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FIC: I am the Daughter of Fortitude (Historial)
TITLE: I am the Daughter of Fortitude
FANDOM: Historical
PAIRING: John Dee/ Edward Kelley
RATING: PG
WORDS: 1,358
NOTES: The ‘Daughter of Fortitude’ is the product of Edward Kelley’s mind, and I make no claim on it. Also, I wrote this after only visiting a couple websites. Then I read a biography about Dee. I’ve change the story accordingly, but it’s not entirely accurate in the events depicted.
I am the Daughter of Fortitude
“I am the daughter of Fortitude, and ravished every hour, from my youth.” The language of the angels was so easy to speak now; after years of having it flow through him, he spoke it as fluently as his mother Irish.
“For behold, I am Understanding, and Science dwelleth in me; and the heavens oppress me. They covet and desire me with infinite appetite; few or none that are earthly have embraced me, for I am shadowed with the Circle of the Stone, and covered with the morning Clouds.” The language was familiar, but these words? He did not know. They came from somewhere calm and distant and outside of his mind. The words flowed from his lips, but he did not know where they began.
“My feet are swifter than the winds, and my hands are sweeter than the morning dew. My garments are from the beginning, and my dwelling place is in my self. The Lion knoweth not where I walk, neither do the beasts of the field understand me.” Were they angelic, as Dee was sure they were? Demonic, as he himself feared they were?
“I am deflowered, and yet a virgin; I sanctify, and am not sanctified. Happy is he that embraceth me: for in the night season I am sweet, and in the day full of pleasure.” Or were they nothing but delusions, brought about by his unconscious but sinful desires? “My company is a harmony of many Cymbals, and my lips sweeter than health itself. I am a harlot for such as ravish me, and a virgin with such as know me not: For Lo, I am loved of many, and I am a lover to many; and as many as come unto me as they should do, have entertainment.” He did not know what he was saying, why he was saying these things. Was it his voice? Or was it higher, sweeter; the voice of an angelic woman putting those beautiful, poetic, dangerous words in his mouth?
He hoped that it was so, prayed that it was so.
“Purge your streets, O ye sons of men, and wash your houses clean; make yourselves holy, and put on righteousness.” Righteous. The word sent him shaking, sent the whispering, seductive voice of the tempter caressing in his mind. Righteous, righteous…look at him, Edward Talbot, so righteous in his belief, so righteous in his drive and possession…he is killing you, using you, you are just a tool for his ambitions, and you are letting him, aren’t you? Where is your thief’s mind now…?
My name is Edward Kelley and shutupshutupshutup…
“Cast out your old strumpets, and burn their clothes; abstain from the company of other women that are defiled, that are sluttish, and not so handsome and beautiful as I, and then will I come and dwell amongst you: and behold, I will bring forth children unto you, and they shall be the sons of Comfort.” But he kept on speaking, kept the connection with the spirit world despite the sin-encased-in-velvet voice of Baal. The dog-shadow of the tempter was somewhere close, panting and laughing and whispering killhimfuckhimrobhimkisshim… “I will open my garments, and stand naked before you, that your love may be more enflamed toward me.”
“As yet, I walk in the clouds; as yet, I am carried with the winds, and cannot descend unto you for the multitude of your abominations, and the filthy loathsomeness of your dwelling places.” But he wasn’t in the clouds, he was on the floor in the dark study with the weight of its books and voices pressing in on him and he didn’t understand how he was there for surely the winds wouldn’t let him drop and
He began to cough and choke on the wine being trickled down his throat. Instinctively, he lashed out and hit something. It was only at the dull clang of the goblet hitting the floor that Edward came somewhat to his senses. Dee’s bright, child-like eyes were staring at him happily; but behind the man, the room was spinning.
“That was marvelous, Edward! Marvelous! The poetry, the sheer beauty of the words…” Dee’s voice came down to him from somewhere high above and slightly out of range of understanding. Didn’t Dee realize that the words weren’t marvelous? That the poetry was nothing more, just nothing more then the revelation of his sins and desires and oh God…
Baal had crept forward, and was now leering him from under the table, his tail thumping on the ground. Edward shook his head, and tried to scoot away.
“Demons,” he rasped, “It’s the work of demons, of delusions, it’s not beautiful, it can’t be…”
Dee frowned. “Edward, what are you saying? It can’t possibly be the work of demons.”
“But it is! Oh, God, don’t you see, John…” Sitting up was a bad idea, but he had to make him see the truth. The room spun faster, and Edward gripped Dee’s arms to keep from falling.
“You just need a good night’s sleep, that’s all. When we continue tomorrow, it won’t seem so bad,” Dee’s voice was kind, gentle; the voice of the child in his eyes. A brilliant child to be sure, but a child nonetheless. And, like a child, Dee was utterly selfish in his wants. He wanted Edward to scry for him, to talk to spirits and gain the knowledge of the ages and…
Edward gazed at the child in Dee’s eyes, and knew he was defeated. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be; he was supposed to con Dee and then flee with the wealth. He was an amoral, half-educated forger; he wasn’t supposed to have gotten himself caught up with being a medium and talking to spirits. They were growing harder to control now, and talked to him constantly. Baal crept closer, moving so much like the big black dog that he appeared to be that Edward tried to move away again. But the only way was forward, and Dee was kneeling there. Close, now, oh so close, and without thinking Edward kissed him.
He kissed Dee as if he were the only sane, stable thing in this dreadful, voice-infested and still spinning study. He kissed Dee as if the other man were his only link to sanity, instead of the unrelenting and child-like hand pushing him ever further away from it. He kissed Dee deeply, roughly, until the doctor pushed him away.
Edward fell back against the floor and just stared up at Dee with wide, disbelieving eyes. He had dragged him down with him, and now Dee was above him, arms braced to keep himself from falling on the younger man.
Underneath the chair, Baal laughed at them, though Edward was the only one to hear him.
“Did the spirits tell you to do that, Edward?” Dee asked softly. Edward numbly nodded, and the doctor’s frown deepened. “Interesting, interesting…” His bright eyes flicked down for a moment, and thoughts ran across his face far too quickly for Edward to decipher. Dee leaned down to kiss him, but Edward moved his head to the side so the kiss landed on the corner of his mouth.
“You’re flushed,” Dee said softly. Edward didn’t answer, and the doctor sighed. “I’ll get you some water, Edward,” he said at last, crawling off him and getting to his feet slowly. Dee walked out of the library, and Edward curled up on his side. But now he could see Baal, and the young, angelic girl patting him.
“Madini?” His voice hoarse and soft, barely audible, but the girl nodded happily. “I thought you said you would help me…how is this helping me?” Edward asked, helplessly.
But I have helped, Edward! Madini’s voice was high and bright, the voice any other young girl. There was a long pause where Edward was evidently supposed to speak, but didn’t. Still beaming, the girl went on anyway. You haven’t been hungry or impoverished once since you meet Dee, have you?
He just stared at her, and closed his eyes with a moan. “I am the daughter of Fortitude,” he whispered, “and ravished every hour…”
Fin.
FANDOM: Historical
PAIRING: John Dee/ Edward Kelley
RATING: PG
WORDS: 1,358
NOTES: The ‘Daughter of Fortitude’ is the product of Edward Kelley’s mind, and I make no claim on it. Also, I wrote this after only visiting a couple websites. Then I read a biography about Dee. I’ve change the story accordingly, but it’s not entirely accurate in the events depicted.
“I am the daughter of Fortitude, and ravished every hour, from my youth.” The language of the angels was so easy to speak now; after years of having it flow through him, he spoke it as fluently as his mother Irish.
“For behold, I am Understanding, and Science dwelleth in me; and the heavens oppress me. They covet and desire me with infinite appetite; few or none that are earthly have embraced me, for I am shadowed with the Circle of the Stone, and covered with the morning Clouds.” The language was familiar, but these words? He did not know. They came from somewhere calm and distant and outside of his mind. The words flowed from his lips, but he did not know where they began.
“My feet are swifter than the winds, and my hands are sweeter than the morning dew. My garments are from the beginning, and my dwelling place is in my self. The Lion knoweth not where I walk, neither do the beasts of the field understand me.” Were they angelic, as Dee was sure they were? Demonic, as he himself feared they were?
“I am deflowered, and yet a virgin; I sanctify, and am not sanctified. Happy is he that embraceth me: for in the night season I am sweet, and in the day full of pleasure.” Or were they nothing but delusions, brought about by his unconscious but sinful desires? “My company is a harmony of many Cymbals, and my lips sweeter than health itself. I am a harlot for such as ravish me, and a virgin with such as know me not: For Lo, I am loved of many, and I am a lover to many; and as many as come unto me as they should do, have entertainment.” He did not know what he was saying, why he was saying these things. Was it his voice? Or was it higher, sweeter; the voice of an angelic woman putting those beautiful, poetic, dangerous words in his mouth?
He hoped that it was so, prayed that it was so.
“Purge your streets, O ye sons of men, and wash your houses clean; make yourselves holy, and put on righteousness.” Righteous. The word sent him shaking, sent the whispering, seductive voice of the tempter caressing in his mind. Righteous, righteous…look at him, Edward Talbot, so righteous in his belief, so righteous in his drive and possession…he is killing you, using you, you are just a tool for his ambitions, and you are letting him, aren’t you? Where is your thief’s mind now…?
My name is Edward Kelley and shutupshutupshutup…
“Cast out your old strumpets, and burn their clothes; abstain from the company of other women that are defiled, that are sluttish, and not so handsome and beautiful as I, and then will I come and dwell amongst you: and behold, I will bring forth children unto you, and they shall be the sons of Comfort.” But he kept on speaking, kept the connection with the spirit world despite the sin-encased-in-velvet voice of Baal. The dog-shadow of the tempter was somewhere close, panting and laughing and whispering killhimfuckhimrobhimkisshim… “I will open my garments, and stand naked before you, that your love may be more enflamed toward me.”
“As yet, I walk in the clouds; as yet, I am carried with the winds, and cannot descend unto you for the multitude of your abominations, and the filthy loathsomeness of your dwelling places.” But he wasn’t in the clouds, he was on the floor in the dark study with the weight of its books and voices pressing in on him and he didn’t understand how he was there for surely the winds wouldn’t let him drop and
He began to cough and choke on the wine being trickled down his throat. Instinctively, he lashed out and hit something. It was only at the dull clang of the goblet hitting the floor that Edward came somewhat to his senses. Dee’s bright, child-like eyes were staring at him happily; but behind the man, the room was spinning.
“That was marvelous, Edward! Marvelous! The poetry, the sheer beauty of the words…” Dee’s voice came down to him from somewhere high above and slightly out of range of understanding. Didn’t Dee realize that the words weren’t marvelous? That the poetry was nothing more, just nothing more then the revelation of his sins and desires and oh God…
Baal had crept forward, and was now leering him from under the table, his tail thumping on the ground. Edward shook his head, and tried to scoot away.
“Demons,” he rasped, “It’s the work of demons, of delusions, it’s not beautiful, it can’t be…”
Dee frowned. “Edward, what are you saying? It can’t possibly be the work of demons.”
“But it is! Oh, God, don’t you see, John…” Sitting up was a bad idea, but he had to make him see the truth. The room spun faster, and Edward gripped Dee’s arms to keep from falling.
“You just need a good night’s sleep, that’s all. When we continue tomorrow, it won’t seem so bad,” Dee’s voice was kind, gentle; the voice of the child in his eyes. A brilliant child to be sure, but a child nonetheless. And, like a child, Dee was utterly selfish in his wants. He wanted Edward to scry for him, to talk to spirits and gain the knowledge of the ages and…
Edward gazed at the child in Dee’s eyes, and knew he was defeated. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be; he was supposed to con Dee and then flee with the wealth. He was an amoral, half-educated forger; he wasn’t supposed to have gotten himself caught up with being a medium and talking to spirits. They were growing harder to control now, and talked to him constantly. Baal crept closer, moving so much like the big black dog that he appeared to be that Edward tried to move away again. But the only way was forward, and Dee was kneeling there. Close, now, oh so close, and without thinking Edward kissed him.
He kissed Dee as if he were the only sane, stable thing in this dreadful, voice-infested and still spinning study. He kissed Dee as if the other man were his only link to sanity, instead of the unrelenting and child-like hand pushing him ever further away from it. He kissed Dee deeply, roughly, until the doctor pushed him away.
Edward fell back against the floor and just stared up at Dee with wide, disbelieving eyes. He had dragged him down with him, and now Dee was above him, arms braced to keep himself from falling on the younger man.
Underneath the chair, Baal laughed at them, though Edward was the only one to hear him.
“Did the spirits tell you to do that, Edward?” Dee asked softly. Edward numbly nodded, and the doctor’s frown deepened. “Interesting, interesting…” His bright eyes flicked down for a moment, and thoughts ran across his face far too quickly for Edward to decipher. Dee leaned down to kiss him, but Edward moved his head to the side so the kiss landed on the corner of his mouth.
“You’re flushed,” Dee said softly. Edward didn’t answer, and the doctor sighed. “I’ll get you some water, Edward,” he said at last, crawling off him and getting to his feet slowly. Dee walked out of the library, and Edward curled up on his side. But now he could see Baal, and the young, angelic girl patting him.
“Madini?” His voice hoarse and soft, barely audible, but the girl nodded happily. “I thought you said you would help me…how is this helping me?” Edward asked, helplessly.
But I have helped, Edward! Madini’s voice was high and bright, the voice any other young girl. There was a long pause where Edward was evidently supposed to speak, but didn’t. Still beaming, the girl went on anyway. You haven’t been hungry or impoverished once since you meet Dee, have you?
He just stared at her, and closed his eyes with a moan. “I am the daughter of Fortitude,” he whispered, “and ravished every hour…”
Fin.