FIC: The Methos Chronicles: Words (2/3)
Mina-Clare Moseley (clare@DAYMEN.COM)
Wed, 20 Mar 2002 18:34:46 -0500
The Methos Chronicles: Words
By Mina-Clare Moseley
Synopsis: Episode 4 of "The Methos Chronicles". In 1583, Methos has
the deal with a lovesick noblewoman, a jealous Hugh Fitzcairn,
annoyingly sappy poetry, Kit Marlowe and a VERY amused Rosalyn.
Rating: PG-13. Language and sexual situations.
Archive: Seventh Dimension and anyone else who wants it.
Author's Notes: This is Episode 4 in the 13 episode season. For more
information on the Methos Chronicles series check out:
http://straykitty.com/deargirl/methos/chronicles . NOTE! This is an
updated address for "The Methos Chronicles" homepage. This page has
been updated, if any of you are interested. With more in-dept
profiles and information on upcoming episodes
Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis-Panzer Entertainment. This is
non-profit fan fiction.
Note: Wow! This is even later than Episode Three. I shouldn't even
try to aim for a date on these stories. They'll come when they come.
Maybe if I lighten up on myself, it'll be a bit easier.
As usual, thanks to Pablo and Fre. Also big thanks to Lenora
Mackenzie, my favourite Fitzcairn fan.
****
Fitzcairn removed his hat, placing it over his heart. He bowed
deeply, kissing Lady Elizabeth on the knuckles. "My dear, you have
gotten even more radiant."
Yawning, Elizabeth eyed Fitzcairn warily. "Oh, Master Fitzmartin."
"Fitzcairn, actually, my dear." He smiled. "I have spoken with your father."
"Well, aren't you lucky," Elizabeth said tiredly. "What has he said to you?"
"He is allowing me to court you," Fitzcairn said, putting his hat
back on. Elizabeth yawned again. "Darling, does this not please you?"
"I thought we were closely related."
"No, my dear. I am your mother's cousin's brother-in-law's son. There
is no problem in our marriage."
"Oh really?" She opened her book. "I was not under that impression."
"What is the problem you see in us marrying?"
Elizabeth thought for a moment. "Well.... You are not my type."
Fitzcairn gaped. "But- But I'm everyone's type!"
"You're not mine," She said casually. "I prefer... An intellectual man."
"Who's more intellectual than me?"
The buzz filled Fitzcairn, overwhelming his senses. His hand went to
his sword. Methos entered the library. His hand was at his hip, close
to his dagger. He noted Lady Elizabeth.
"Who are you?" Fitzcairn demanded. "What do you want?"
"Mr. Fitzcairn, this is Andrew. He is my father's scribe." She
twittered, her cheeks flushing pink. "Hellooooo Andrewwww."
"Who is this?" Methos asked, eyeing Fitzcairn.
"Oh, this is Henry Fitzcairn," Elizabeth waved her hand in dismissal.
"A friend of my father's."
"HUGH Fitzcairn," Fitzcairn corrected her, "I am seeking Lady
Elizabeth's hand in marriage."
"Lucky you." Methos inwardly sighed in relief. "I just needed a
book." He went to the shelf.
Elizabeth watched Methos intensely, licking her lips. Fitzcairn
watched jealously. "My-My lady! Let me try to win you over. Come with
me to the theater!"
"The theater?" Elizabeth turned to Fitzcairn. "I like the theater."
"Ah, then we shall go to the theater. We will enjoy the great words
of a poet, acted by the finest troupe in Europe!"
Sighing in annoyance, Elizabeth looked to Methos. "Will you accompany
us, Andrew?"
Methos raised an eyebrow. "I don't think that's appropriate, my lady."
"No, Andrew is MUCH too busy to come with us!" Fitzcairn growled at
Methos. "Isn't that right, Andrew?"
"Yes, I'm very busy."
Elizabeth seized Methos by the arm. "But Andrewwww..... Fitzcairn and
I just CAN'T go unaccompanied. You could be our chaperone. Besides,
you said you know the troupe that's in town."
"I do, don't I?" He smiled. "On second thought, I will go with you."
*****
"Waitaminute...." Joe halted Methos. "You couldn't stand her, yet you
were chaperoning her on a date?"
"Well, I ended up leaving Fitzcairn and Elizabeth in the audience and
went backstage. I was very close to the seamstress with the troupe."
"You went so you could have a quickie with some whore?"
"HEY!" Rose cried indignantly. "I thought we established I've never
been a whore!"
*****
Methos pulled Rose to him, running his hand up her skirt. They were
both tousled after messily putting their clothes back on. "Mmm....
Best first act ever." He attacked her neck ferociously.
Rose gave a sigh. "I'd love to linger, Old Man, but I need to dress
the leading lady."
"But I need to undress again you first." He tugged at her corset.
"Come on, Rosalyn. I bet the second act is even better."
"Oh, behave! You are insatiable!" she slapped him away, fixing her
clothing. "Isn't your lady in the audience? She is most likely
wondering where you are."
"She is occupied with a suitor." Methos growled, nipping at Rose's
earlobe. "Get this, it's Hugh Fitzcairn."
"Oh really?" She smiled. "I bet that's interesting. Does she like him?"
"Not in the least."
"Oh, well that's nasty. If only she would marry him. Then I could
have my boy back." She moved in for a kiss.
"You just had me, Rosa. Elizabeth means nothing to me." He looked
indignant. "And I have not been a boy since before you were born!"
"Just go out there."
"You're no fun." Methos fixed his clothing. "If I kill her, it's your fault."
****
Methos sat back down beside Elizabeth. She hugged his arm. "Andrew,
we were worried about you!"
"I'm fine. I was visiting with my friend."
Fitzcairn eyed Methos. He was a man of experience. He could read the
look of satisfaction on his face. He had just been intimate. There
were few women inside a playhouse. Maybe he wasn't any competition
for Elizabeth's affection.
****
Methos got ready for bed, practicing a few swings with his blade
before placing it at his bedside. He changed into his nightshirt,
getting into bed.
He heard a light knocking on the door.
Sighing, he rose, opening the door. Elizabeth was standing there.
"Oh.... My Lady...." He groaned inwardly. "What can I do for you?"
Elizabeth threw her arms around Methos, sighing in his ear. "I can't
keep it a secret any longer, Andrew.... I love you!"
He grabbed at her arms, attempting to pull them away. "Elizabeth! I
can't even begin to tell you how improper this is!"
"I don't care, Andrew! I love you! I think we should run away
together." Elizabeth hugged him tighter. "I know how you feel about
me. I can see it in your eyes!"
"Well, you're a very nice girl, but...."
She threw her weight onto him and they fell to the floor. Methos
tried to scramble out from beneath her. "My Lady!"
Methos felt the buzz all through his body. "My LADY!" Fitzcairn was
standing in the doorway. "What in the world is going on?"
Elizabeth had the good nature to blush. She rose from the floor.
"Please consider my offer, Andrew. Good night."
Methos sighed in relief, pulling himself off the ground. Fitzcairn
was seething, grasping desperately for his sword. He huffed and
puffed. "I didn't think you would do it!" he cried.
"I didn't do anything!" Methos retorted.
"I WAS going to let you live!" Fitzcairn shouted. He met his sword
with Methos'. "I didn't think you were a threat! How could you go
after her? You're nothing but a lowly scribe. I can provide for her.
I am nobility!"
"Fitzcairn, you made up your nobility." He sighed. "Really, I am no
threat when it comes to Lady Elizabeth." He pulled out a dagger,
placing it at Fitzcairn's neck. "But I am quite the threat to you."
He lowered his dagger slightly. "You're not even worth the effort,
Fitzcairn."
"Why-why you--"
"Peace! I really don't want your head. You're going to help me."
"Help you? Why in the world would I help a cad like you?"
Methos tightened his jaw. No, if he killed Fitzcairn, Elizabeth would
still be a thorn in his flesh. "If you help me, you'll be able to get
Elizabeth."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I am not the least interested in Lady Elizabeth and I would
really like her to stop bothering me!" Methos rolled his eyes. "Do
you think I'm trying to seduce her? She's throwing herself at me! I
*have* a woman and she's quite enough.... BELIEVE me."
"Get back to the part about helping me get her." Fitzcairn said, his
eyes narrowing at Methos.
"Anyway, the only reason Elizabeth likes me is because she's got this
romantic notion in her head that she needs a poet to fulfill her
soul."
Fitzcairn nodded. "Ah! You will write a poem, give it to me, I will
give it to the Lady and she will fall to my charms."
Methos nodded. "That's basically my plan." He sighed, "There's only
one problem."
"What's that?"
"I don't know how to write romantic poetry."
Fitzcairn sighed deeply. "Well, what good are you then? I need to
find someone who can write romantic poetry for me!" He paused. "I
don't know anyone."
"I know someone."
A silence passed between them. Fitzcairn sighed. "Well, I guess you
are good for something."
****
"Oh great," Joe groaned. "Methos and Fitzcairn, partners-in-crime. I
know this story is not going to end well."
"You really have that little faith in my abilities, Dawson?" Methos
commented, putting his feet up on the table.
"I think I have enough, considering your track record." Joe sighed,
"And Fitzcairn's record is even worse."
"Well, they weren't working alone," Rose commented hoarsely. She
coughed hard, putting a hand to her throat.
"Rosalyn, maybe you shouldn't talk," Methos said, stroking her arm.
"You're still sore from your fight with Shinta."
"I don't trust you to get it right, Old Man," she said, brushing him
away. "Anyway, as Methos and Fitzcairn had already discovered, they
were either too stupid or soulless to write a decent poem...."
"I resent that remark!"
"SO Methos did what he was good at...."
****
Rose let out a sigh as Methos placed gentle kisses over her neck. She
threw her head back, letting out a sigh. "Oh, Old Man.... You don't
know how you affect me."
He smiled, running his talented hands over Rose's form. "I think I
have a pretty good idea." His lips covered hers. After a long,
sensuous kiss, he pulled away. "Now, you've got something from
me....."
Letting out an exasperated groan, Rose pushed Methos away. She sat
up, covering her nudity with her sheet. "You want something!"
"Please Rosa, just hear me out!"
"I'm not killing anyone. I got out of that business."
"No, no," Methos pulled her back to the bed. "Nothing that dreadful.
I just need a poem. A love poem."
Rose arched her eyebrow. "A love poem? Why?"
"It's for Lady Elizabeth." Methos yelped as Rose pushed him off the
bed. "It's not for me! It for Fitzcairn to give to her. He thinks I'm
interested in her."
"Ohhhhh...." She nodded. "I get it. Fitzcairn's an illiterate
simpleton and Elizabeth won't have anything to do with him. Elizabeth
likes you because you're smart and 'romantic'. You want a love poem
so that Fitzcairn looks smart and romantic, because it will get them
both of your back."
"That sums it up." Methos nuzzled Rose. "Please? I can be very kind
when I'm grateful."
Rose smiled, shutting her eyes as Methos sank back down. "Ohhh...
I'll get you a poem.... But this won't work, Old Man."
****
"You traded poetry for sex?" Joe shook his head. "Somehow, that got
left out of your Chronicles."
"It's not like I did it for ANYONE." Methos replied, glancing to
Rose. "Are you telling me you wouldn't?"
"So, you whored yourself out, Rose wrote the poem, you gave it to
Fitzcairn, who gave it to Elizabeth....." Joe stroked his beard
thoughtfully. "Are you telling me it didn't work?"
"It would have. But someone decided to be lazy......" Methos prodded
Rose in the side.
"Hey!" Rose pushed him away, wrinkling her nose. "I said I would get
you a poem, I didn't say I was going to write one..... Besides, you
and Fitzcairn messed it up before that...."
****
TO BE CONTINUED.......