| Date: 19 January 2008
Characters: William Shakespeare, Estelle Cole Location: hotel hallway Link to IJ: thread #40881 |
 He was either horribly hungover and hallucinating in pain.Or in the middle of a fantastic, impossible, discovery. He'd intended to stumble down to the kitchen and have something to eat so his innards would stop sloshing around. He'd been stopped short by the glare of light on the other side of the door. Bright, steady, not flickering. He squinted against it, stepped into the hall, and let the door swing shut behind him... And wandered on, drawn forward step as if compelled or controlled or...fascinated. When he reached the intersection of several halls and stood in an open space, he laughed out loud, clapped his hands together and then threw his arms wide, like he could embrace the whole thing. "Brilliant!" |
 His exclamation startled Estelle, and she dropped some of the flowers she'd been bringing to her room.She looked up with a smile. "Hello, new here?" |
| He looked over his shoulder, spotted the woman, and broke into a broad, pleased smile. He let his hands fall to his sides and started toward her, stooping to pick up a flower. He twirled it between his fingers and offered it out. "Oh yes. Very new." |
| "Welcome to this place, then," she said as she stood. She studied his clothes with a curious expression, trying to place them. |
| Ren faires probably weren't in her experience. "My thanks. I think, if you are any indication of the local residents, that I will enjoy my stay." |
| "Oh, I don't actually live here, not usually," she assured him with another smile. "I just stay here for as long as it lets me." |
| "A guest." He looked around the room. "Then this is some fantastical dream on what an inn and tavern might be?" |
| "Oh, it's not a dream," she said. "It's a real place, just ... unlike anyplace else I've ever been. There's an inn, and the pub, a lovely park -- that's where I got these -- shops, and a library. Just about everything." |
| "Real." This being a real place was impossible. Then again, he'd seen more than his fair share of impossible. "If this is all real, and I will not wake on the morrow and have no memory, will you forgive my boldness and grant me your name?" |
| He spoke liked he'd stepped straight of an old book and it took her a moment to "translate." "Oh! Where are my manners? I should have said right off!" She juggled the flowers and offered her hand. "Estelle Cole." |
| He took just her fingers. "It is my sincere pleasure to meet you, Estelle Cole. I am William Shakespeare." |
| She couldn't help it, she giggled. "Oh you must get teased something awful for that," she said, not making the connection just yet. |
| He'd bent to kiss her hand. He paused and looked up at her instead. "...teased, my lady?" |
| "Because your name is the same as... " She trailed off, looking at him and his clothes and then blushed beet red. "You're him, aren't you?" |
| He straightened up entirely, curious now. "You know another William Shakespeare?" |
| "No, I don't," she said, flustered. "That's the thing, see? With your clothes and the way you talk. I ... you're an author, right?" She was going to be mortified if this *wasn't* actually Shakespeare and he was just having her on. |
| "Author, vaguely. Playwright, more directly." He smiled, a little confused. "You have perhaps heard tell of one of our performances?" |
| "Heard of?" she said, laughing lightly. "Everyone's heard of you! Why you're required reading!" |
| Now he looked even more confused, but amused too. "Required reading? Required reading of what?" |
| "We should find someplace to sit down," she said. "This is going to take some explaining." |
| "I will follow where you go." And he would. But he had to ask: "You don't, by chance, know a Doctor?" |
| "I do!" she said, leading him toward a little sitting area at the end of the hallway. |
| He waited for her to sit, then joined her. "Allow me to clarify. A doctor with an Ethiop as a companion?" |
| "A what?" |
| "A...blackamoor lady. He." He paused. "If I offend you, please forgive me." |
| "I'm not offended," Estelle said. "I can't be, really, although I feel a little silly because I'm having trouble understanding. The doctor I met here was by himself, but there are a lot of people here. More every day. So this ... blackamoor? lady you're looking for might be here too." |
| He heaved a sigh of relief, clapped his hands together and rubbed them briskly. "Excellent. Then I think I'll stay." |
| "You might not have much choice," she said, trying not to stare. She was having a conversation with Shakespeare! |
| "No choice?" That sobered him a bit. "What, like a prison?" |
| "No, we're free to wander about as we may, there's just ... well, it seems this place chooses when you can return to wherever you came from." |
| "The place." He looked around the room again. "The walls themselves have a mind and a will?" |
| "I don't know," she admitted. "The others might be able to tell you more." |
| "Where are the others now?" He smiled at her. |
| "You'll probably find lots of people in the pub, some in the library and the others ..." She shrugged but smiled back. |
| "And if I wanted to find you again?" |
| "I usually have tea in the afternoon," she said, blushing slightly. Shakespeare wanted to know where he might find her. "Or out in the park I mentioned." |
| "I'll look for you in the afternoons, then. I don't mind tea." |
| "I'll be there," she promised. |
| He held out a hand for hers again, and kissed her knuckles before he stood. "I look forward to it." |