On the Tenth Day of Christmas Anne went outside to see…Ten Lords a Leaping!

On the Tenth Day of Christmas Anne went outside to see…Ten Lords a Leaping!

“Anne!” Came a voice from Anne’s elbow. It was Maggie Pie, the pickpocket and employee of Jasper Trustworthy. “Come outside with us!” The young girl tugged at Anne’s sleeve and handed Anne a cloak and a pair of boots. Knowing better than to ask where the cloak or boots came from, Anne wrapped the fabric around her shoulders and pulled the shoes on her feet.

“What’s outside Maggie?”

“There’s some high born lords out there kicking around a ball on the ice!” Maggie led Anne out of the Dirty Duck Inn and they watched as some of the wealthier inhabitants of Bristol went sliding and leaping about on the icy patches of the streets.

“Want to go sliding?” Maggie asked.

“Why not?” Anne stepped out on the ice and slid a few feet. A memory of the arctic and the icy shores flashed through her mind. “Come on Maggie!”

Maggie slid a bit more cautiously than Anne, but within minutes the two girls were sliding about and throwing snow balls at the lords playing football. Some of the children of Bristol joined in and Anne found herself being tackled by many of the nipperkins from the Dirty Duck Inn.

“Watch my head!” She cried out as she allowed herself to be tugged to the ground. “All right all right, you’ve got me!”

Just then there came some sort of cry from the door of the Duck promising a hot beverage if the little ones would be ushered in. Anne and Maggie had their hands full rallying the anklebiters back into the warmth. It might have only been a quick fifteen minutes of skating, but it was worth the frozen noses and fingers. 

Fin. 

On the Ninth Day of Christmas there Just So Happened to Be, Nine Ladies Dancing!

On the Ninth Day of Christmas there Just So Happened to Be, Nine Ladies Dancing!

Anne endured the teasing jibes of her fellow sailors with the least amount of blushing that she could manage, which only made them tease her more about her “tumble” with Roxy. It was a well known fact that Anne liked to stay away from brothels, and Andrew always took flack for not visiting the houses of ill repute during shore time.

“So, you’re finally a man now are you Andrew?” Frobisher gave Anne such a hard slap her back that she almost choked on the mug of beer that had been handed to her moments before.

“I s’pose so Capt’n.” Anne rasped out as she caught her breath.

“Couldn’t let the men keep teasing you about being a girl.” Captain Hawkyns teased with a twinkle in his eye. Anne wrinkled her nose at her father and too a swig of beer.

“Exuse me.” Came the voice of young Daisy Crazy LeStrange, a member of the Bristol Buskin Frolic. The bells on her hat and belt jingled brightly as she bounced up and down with excitement. “We’re going to start dancing and need some men!”

“Come on Andrew!” Captain Frobisher dragged Anne from her seat. “Go dance with the girls.”

The menfolk helped to move most of the tables in the Dirty Duck Inn to the sides of the room, creating a fairly good-sized dance floor.

Those of the Bristol Buskin Frolic who played musical instruments pulled their various noise makers out from nowhere and a few more of musicians joined in starting with a lively reel.

While Daisy Crazy LeStrange dragged Anne into the dance, it soon became apparent that Anne Drew was the only “man” among the dancers. In fact, they seemed to be one lady short of ten dancers. Fiona LeSmitherfield the Fiddler was dancing in among the others while playing her fiddle.

As Anne hopped and twirled and chassed her way through the reel she wondered how much breath she’d have by the end of the dance. The musicians seemed to never want to end the weaving and turning melody. One by one dancers dropped out and were replaced by others. It came down to Daisy and Anne as the only two original dancers remaining.

Anne could hear the shouts of encouragement and teasing coming from her comrades, and she could see how Daisy was starting to tire out. Anne knew how to push through being tired from her days on the Gabriel. She also knew when to spin out of a dance, and now was not the time to be competitive.

Jumping out of the dance Anne added her voice to the triumphant cries congratulating Daisy on staying in the dance the longest. Daisy collapsed against a table and was surrounded by her friends laughing and hugging her.

The musicians gathered together for a few moments then started another country tune. Anne decided to sit out this one and catch her breath, there’d be time for more dancing later. 

Fin. 

Sorry about the short length of these last two posts. I'm battling something that's not quite a cold and writing's been tough, but I'm still plugging away! 

On the Eighth day of Christmas the Floozies Gave to Me…Eight Minutes Peace

On the Eighth day of Christmas the Floozies Gave to Me…Eight Minutes Peace

            Anne glance up (for once) at the diminutive Draco Disciple and tax collector, Vinz Clortho. “Heaven forbid you’d ever catch me breaking the law?”

            “And why would someone like you break the law?” Vinz questioned, peering over his round spectacles.

            “I don’t see how this is relevant to the occasion.” Anne avoided the question and looked to the floozies for assistance.

“Well,” Roxy Coxcomb drew a long puff from her pipe. “I think it’s a criminal offense to not be having any fun on Christmas.”

“Does Andrew want to have some fun?” Jezebel added, wiggling her…eyebrows.

Vinz frowned, but as the floozies proceeded to crack jokes about Anne’s supposed lack of experience and teaching the “lad” a thing or two, he slunk off to rejoin his fellow Dracos.

“That was nearly a disaster.” Anne sighed.

“It’s not quite over yet luv.” Chastity tilted her head towards a fairly irate Captain Frobisher.

“Can you distract him?” Anne pleaded. “I’m not going to make it through the night if the captain finds out.”

“Come with me,” Roxy brushed off her skirts and wrapped an arm around Anne’s waist. “I’m sure they’ll stop talkin’ now.”

Upstairs the din of the party was barely muffled. Anne could make out the sound of the Captains different laughs and the tunes that the Bristol Buskin Frolic was playing. She and Roxy sat in silence, waiting for a long enough time to pass before they went down among the party again. It'd been at least eight minutes.

“Any word of Fanny?” Anne asked from by the window, looking at the snow falling gently on the streets of Bristol.

“Nothing new,” Roxy sat of the edge of the bed. “Sorry dear.”

“S’alright.” Anne shrugged. “So how long do we need to stay up here before people will believe my lie again?” 

Fin.

On the Seventh Day of Christmas Anne managed to avoid…Seven potentially disastrous “out-ings”

On the Seventh Day of Christmas Anne managed to avoid…Seven potentially disastrous “out-ings”

Anne gripped the beam for dear life, hanging over a crowd of Bristol visitors and inhabitants. Thanks to Captain Drake, who had spotted the hiding place of the Cabin Boy, Anne was now giving those below her a fine view up her un-tucked shirt. This, however was not Anne’s most worrisome problem. There was the issue of how she’d actually get down from the beam.

The first problem was solved by Stretch the Sailor. Stretch was so tall that he was able to move under Anne Drew’s feet and shuffled to a supporting beam. Anne climbed down and quickly tucked her shirt back in, glancing around nervously. Most of the town of Bristol already knew her secret, but some remained a little ignorant on accounts of bad eyesight or simply not having met Anne before.

It was Estella’s expression in particular that Anne was worried about. The Draco was wavering between outrage and disappointment. Looking to do some damage control, Anne rushed over to the distraught Estella and whispered a hasty explanation in her ear.

“But you’re a girl!” Estella shouted above most of the din of the party. Unfortunately, Frobisher was in earshot and happened to turn his head towards the two young women at that very moment.

“What’s that?” He strode over in two steps. “Who’s a girl?”

“But…But…” Estella sputtered. Anne thought quick and ducked behind Frobisher and hurried to Hawkyns.

“We’ve got a problem.” Anne informed her father. “Estella knows I’m a girl and she’s about to tell Frobisher.”

“Captain Frobisher knows you’re a what Anne-Drew?” Captain Drake interjected. Since Anne had once thought that Captain Sir Francis Drake might have been her father at one time, she had never disillusioned him of the notion that she might not be male.

“I’ll explain later Francis.” Hawkyns ushered Anne away from a very confused Drake. “I’ll do damage control on Frobisher, keep by the rest of the crew for now.”

Anne found a spot by John T Hawser the Boatswain, Stretch the Sailmaker, and most of the BBF. There was a rousing round of a few dice games going on, and plenty of money was changing hands.

“Come to join us, lass?” John misspoke and Anne turned on her heel, looking for another crowd to seek safe haven with. There seemed to be quite a heated discussion between Estella and the other Dracos, with many furtive looks towards Anne. Hawkyns was still talking animatedly to Frobisher and Drake. Anne wondered if she’d last the night without another major mishap. The last time she had to out herself was when Frobisher almost took away her trouser privileges.

Surprisingly, the floozies of Bristol seemed to be low on business at the moment. Thinking that among the company of these women would be as safe as anywhere in the Duck, Anne sought a seat by Ginny Lightskirts, Jezebel Harlot, Roxy Coxbomb, and Chastity Trollop.

“I think Frobisher knows I’m a girl.” She groaned as she took her seat.

Jezebel looked up in surprise. “You’re a girl?”

“You didn’t know?” Anne raised her eyebrows in surprise. “I thought almost everyone but Frobisher knew!”

“Yes, luv.” Chastity agreed. “You’re a little too pretty to be a boy.”

“I’ve seen pretty boys before.” Roxy drawled around her pipe. “More than a few of them were girls too.”

“Besides,” Ginny comforted, “Frobisher never remembers these things for long.”

“True, but what if the Dracos catch me?”

“What if we catch you at what, Anne Drew?” Came the sneering voice of Vinz Clortho. Goosebumps erupted on Anne’s arms as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Now she was in for it. 

Fin

After yesterday's disaster of a failure to post (yes, that is a double negative), I thought something lighthearted that I enjoyed at Bristol would be best to write about. Out-ing Anne was honestly one of my favorite bits and 7 outings in one post was quite the achievement when you're working with a two page limit. Count them, there are 7.

Apologies.

Apologies to you all reading my Bristol Christmas stories.
Sometimes, even with the best of intentions and personal goals, life comes in and says "You're not doing this today."

Please let me assure you that all circumstances are external and not because I gave up on the "post every day" rule I set for myself. It simply was not possible for me to write a full length post.

Hopefully tomorrow everything will be back on board and there will be another post- if for some reason I need to put my Bristol Christmas away for now I promise posts as soon as I am able.

My apologies,
The Author.

On the Sixth Day of Christmas, The Criers Gave To Me…Six Hiding Places.

On the Sixth Day of Christmas, The Criers Gave To Me…Six Hiding Places.

Anne quiet moment would not last. Once again the door of the Dirty Duck Inn burst open and a horde of Draco Disciples burst in with a flurry of cold air and snow, Estella Foxglove among them.

Leaving her mug on the nearest table, Anne darted for the first hiding place she could find, beneath Dorcas Oddpick’s skirts.

“What are you doing?” Dorcas hitched up her skirts and kicked the cabin boy out from under them.

“Um…” Anne thought fast. “I’m playing a game, want to play?”

“What kind of game?”

“Hide and seek. We’re going to hide from Estella Foxglove and the other Dracos.”

“Foxgloves are pretty flowers.”

“And poisonous!” Anne dove beneath the stairs as Estella and Vinz Clortho came their way. Dorcas didn’t follow and Anne hoped that the Towne Crier would have the presence of mind to not say anything to Estella.  

“Estella!” Dorcas cried out to the Draco. “We’re playing a game!”

Anne cursed herself for saying anything to Dorcas. She was a very sweet girl, but sometimes she seemed more than a little absent minded. Anne spotted Dorcas’ fellow crier, Emmaraude A’Right about to pass the stairs and tugged at the passing crier’s skirt.

“Psst, Emmaraude.” She hissed. The crier sank down and grinned in greet.

“How now Anne Drew?”

Anne tugged Emmaraude into her hiding place. “I need to keep away from Estella and Dorcas keeps giving away my hiding places.”

“Hide behind me and we’ll see if Harold can help!” Emmaraude moved quickly with Anne shrinking behind the towne crier towards Harold, who was in conversation with Jasper Trustworthy, man of many (questionable) business enterprises.

“Harold! Jasper!” Emmaraude, ever a ray of sunshine, interrupted. “Know any good hiding places?”

“What for?” Jasper’s eyes roved about, as if he was taking in all of the possible places where he had hidden various objects. “How large are we talking.”

“For Anne Drew. She’s trying to avoid the Dracos.” Emmaraude pulled Anne from her stooped position and Anne crossed her arms.

“I can think of one hiding place…” Harold winked at Anne and her hand went to the short knife at her belt without hesitation.

“Mine’s sharper, and will do more damage.” She retorted.

“There’s always the lake.” Jasper suggested. “We could always tie you to a rock.”

“Already had my bath.” Anne winced at the no so far away memory of her dip in Lake Elizabeth.

“There’s the beams in the rafters…” Emmaruade tapped the side of her nose in deep thought.

“That’ll work.” Anne looked up and studied the beams. It could be a good spot to try. “Gimmie a hand Harold?”

So with Jasper steadying Anne’s arm and Harold giving her a leg up, Anne was able to reach one of the main beams and swing her leg over. “Stop looking, Harold.” She chided, the laughed as the only male crier gave her a wry smile.

Being careful to not look down too much, Anne made her way to the center of the beam and tucked her feet up so she lay in a frog leg position over the party. It reminded her a bit of the crow’s nest on the ship.

“ANNE DREW!” The voice nearly shook Anne off of her perch. “WHAT IN THE NAME OF ST. ELMO ARE YOU DOING?”

Fin. 

This was a hard day to write. Not really happy with this episode. We'll see what happens tomorrow since I'll have even less time to write than I did today. I've just got to remind myself that even if these posts aren't what I want them to be, I'm working on learning to meet my own deadlines and this is "good for me." 

On the Fifth day of Christmas…The Duckies Made Me Sing, Five Sea Shanties!

On the Fifth day of Christmas…The Duckies Made Me Sing, Five Sea Shanties!

            Anne Drew wiggled through a crowed and plopped down next to John T Hawser, her fellow sailor, at the biggest table and snatched up a chicken leg from a platter of food. Everyone was crowded around this table, talking and laughing, and there was even a little bit of singing from the Bristol Buskin Frolic down at the far end.

“How’s your head Anne?” John inquired.

“Hurts a bit,” Anne admitted. She didn’t like to advertise injuries. “How’s your back?”

“It’s doing fair enough.” John nodded. The life of a sailor wasn’t easy on anyone. Each member of the crew of the Gabriel had his (or her) own small aches and pains they managed. “Nice to be back on land.”

“Can I get you gentlemen some Adam’s Ale?” asked Kate of the Dirty Duck Inn, ever ready with a pitcher of Adam’s Ale to quench the thirst of the Duck’s guests.

“Aye, please!” Anne held out her mug and Kate poured a generous amount into her cup. “Grammercy.”
            “Will ye sailors be gracing us this evening with some music, mayhap?” Kate inquired. “We haven’t had any shanties for such a long time.”

Anne and John looked to each other and shrugged. “If the Captain agrees to leadin’ I don’t see why not.” Anne looked about for Captain Frobisher. “CAPT’N!” She shouted.”

“WHAT?” Came the roaring reply from a dusky corner of the Duck.

John raised his eyebrows. “Well, you’ve distracted him.” He gave Anne a nudge.

Anne tiptoed her way over to where her Captain had been busy with Chastity Trollop. Now he was vaguely annoyed at being interrupted. Deciding to play the ignorance of her captain’s romancing, Anne took a bracing swig of Adam’s Ale. “We’ve been requested to sing some sea shanties.”

“Can’t you see I’m busy?” Frobisher protested. Chastity, however, looked mildly interested in participating with the shanties. She had a few songs of her own that got a crowd laughing and singing along.

“They promised free something-or-other.” Anne lied, taking another drink of Adam's Ale. She hoped that she could wheedle a mug of mulled cider out of Master Peter Cabot, the owner of the Dirty Duck Inn.

“Free?” Frobisher’s ears perked up.

“Why not?” Chastity stood up, to Frobisher’s great disappointment, and the trio made their way towards the main throng of guests. Kate was already standing atop a cleared table (how the ducks managed that is simply impressive and nothing short of a miracle!) and was talking up something she called the “Shipwreck Shanty Show.”

“Can I join in?” Came two voices at Anne’s elbow. Maggie Pie, and Lettuce Gardener two inhabitants of Bristol who possessed lovely singing voices. Maggie’s fellow co-worker, Lefty the Ingles-man (who spoke an extraordinary amount of Spanish for one native to London), joined the group claiming that he knew all about shanties from having lived in one.

“Why not?” Frobisher agreed. “Oy! John, get up here!”

Within minutes the small group of shanty singers had grown to a chorus, still vastly outnumbered by the guests of the Duck. With a quick word to Mast Peter Cabot about the Captain’s free drink, Anne took a perch on the edge of the table and joined into a very loud and multi-keyed rendition of “Pay Me, You Owe Me.”

Much laughter and five songs later, the Bristol Buskin Frolic took over with some merry Yuletide songs and the shanty-sing turned dispersed. Captain Frobisher, with his “free” mug of mulled cider, had sat himself by Captain Hawkyns and Drake and was regaling them with much embellished tales of his latest voyage to the arctic. John yawned and said that he thought that he’d better get some shut eye for the night while there was still a bed to rent in the Inn.

Anne found herself a solitary position, leaning against a standing beam and just taking in the warmth that emanated from not only the fire, but also the people reveling and merrymaking. It felt good to be back in Bristol. 

 Fin. 

I finished this and posted it before 9pm!!! YAY! I haven't liked needing to post things late. Makes me antsy. As always, I hope that you are enjoying these stories and shall post again tomorrow!