My fic: Raffles: Anniversary: Gen
Mar. 15th, 2022 05:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
stonepicnicking_okapiI almost forgot it's the Ides of March--Happy Raffles Day!
Title: Anniversary
Fandom: Raffles
Pairing: Bunny/Raffles
Rating: Gen
Notes: Inspired by today's Year of Wonder offering which is 'Va tacito e nascosto' - 'Go silently and stealthily' from Guilio Cesare by Handel. Shifting POV.
Summary: Raffles and Bunny celebrate their anniversary at the opera.
The ides of March. It was the ideas of March, and Bunny and I were at the opera. Even if I’d forgotten the day, the libretto would’ve reminded me. Giulio Cesare. Bunny and I were not the type of chaps to remind each other of something so prosaic as an anniversary, but then he and I were also not the type of chaps to forget an important date. Bunny knew what today was, and he knew that I knew what today was, and that was enough for the two of us.
So here we were, making a night of it, at the opera. Too highbrow for a cricketeer? Maybe but I rather liked the French horn, going about its solo, and Ceasare singing.
the wise hunter
seeking prey
goes silently and stealthily
and he who intends evil
will not wish to show
the deceit in his heart
In my more romantic moments, I supposed I was that wise hunter, going silently and stealthily, seeking my prey. I do have to look over my shoulder, but I don’t have the emperor’s anxiety about treachery in the ranks. Bunny would sooner gnaw off his lucky foot than betray me.
Could I say the same?
The opera might have been too sophisticated for a gentleman and a player, but it was just the thing for a cracksman with an eye for precious works of art hanging about the swans in attendance. As the drama unfolded in trills and arias on stage, I commenced construction of a careful plan to liberate an arrangement of emeralds from the delicately nurtured neck of the lady across the aisle. They would look much better draped about the collar of my precious rabbit than they did on their current hostess.
And they would make the perfect anniversary gift.
---
Happy anniversary, Raffles. Did you even remember what today is? As for me, I have forgotten and remembered so many times, including before and after you suggested tonight’s entertainment and before and after the usher handed me a progamme.
Giulio Cesare.
Cesare suspected he was going to be betrayed. He was correct, though a few years away from the ‘et tu, Brute?’ moment. The character reminded me of Raffles. He, too, was suspicious, mistrustful, even of himself. But as the French horn played a magnificent solo, I revised my thinking. It was I, not Raffles, who ought to be suspicious, I who ought to fear betrayal. After all, between the two of us, it was Raffles who had misled, misdirected, and manipulated me from the beginning, from our second beginning, our important beginning, on the Ides. He didn’t tell me we were going to steal our way out of our financial difficulties, to thieve our way out of our despair, but I suppose I was naïve to think he proffered a noble method of exit.
I changed my mind again. Cesare’s role might be mine, but no, I am no emperor.
I’m just a rabbit.
Maybe, after this, Raffles and I would enjoy a quiet dinner. Maybe we would reminisce, drinking and smoking, joking and laughing, until late and retire together in peaceful partnership.
It would be a fine way to celebrate a special day.
Poor Cesare.
I slid my eyes towards Raffles without turning my head, a prey’s move but one I have honed through much practice, much surreptitious observation of him.
Oh, no! Damn him!
I caught him looking, while pretending not to look, at the woman in the spring-coloured frock and matching baubles across the aisle.
Of course. He’ll have to have them. Tonight? Tonight.
Happy anniversary.
Title: Anniversary
Fandom: Raffles
Pairing: Bunny/Raffles
Rating: Gen
Notes: Inspired by today's Year of Wonder offering which is 'Va tacito e nascosto' - 'Go silently and stealthily' from Guilio Cesare by Handel. Shifting POV.
Summary: Raffles and Bunny celebrate their anniversary at the opera.
The ides of March. It was the ideas of March, and Bunny and I were at the opera. Even if I’d forgotten the day, the libretto would’ve reminded me. Giulio Cesare. Bunny and I were not the type of chaps to remind each other of something so prosaic as an anniversary, but then he and I were also not the type of chaps to forget an important date. Bunny knew what today was, and he knew that I knew what today was, and that was enough for the two of us.
So here we were, making a night of it, at the opera. Too highbrow for a cricketeer? Maybe but I rather liked the French horn, going about its solo, and Ceasare singing.
the wise hunter
seeking prey
goes silently and stealthily
and he who intends evil
will not wish to show
the deceit in his heart
In my more romantic moments, I supposed I was that wise hunter, going silently and stealthily, seeking my prey. I do have to look over my shoulder, but I don’t have the emperor’s anxiety about treachery in the ranks. Bunny would sooner gnaw off his lucky foot than betray me.
Could I say the same?
The opera might have been too sophisticated for a gentleman and a player, but it was just the thing for a cracksman with an eye for precious works of art hanging about the swans in attendance. As the drama unfolded in trills and arias on stage, I commenced construction of a careful plan to liberate an arrangement of emeralds from the delicately nurtured neck of the lady across the aisle. They would look much better draped about the collar of my precious rabbit than they did on their current hostess.
And they would make the perfect anniversary gift.
---
Happy anniversary, Raffles. Did you even remember what today is? As for me, I have forgotten and remembered so many times, including before and after you suggested tonight’s entertainment and before and after the usher handed me a progamme.
Giulio Cesare.
Cesare suspected he was going to be betrayed. He was correct, though a few years away from the ‘et tu, Brute?’ moment. The character reminded me of Raffles. He, too, was suspicious, mistrustful, even of himself. But as the French horn played a magnificent solo, I revised my thinking. It was I, not Raffles, who ought to be suspicious, I who ought to fear betrayal. After all, between the two of us, it was Raffles who had misled, misdirected, and manipulated me from the beginning, from our second beginning, our important beginning, on the Ides. He didn’t tell me we were going to steal our way out of our financial difficulties, to thieve our way out of our despair, but I suppose I was naïve to think he proffered a noble method of exit.
I changed my mind again. Cesare’s role might be mine, but no, I am no emperor.
I’m just a rabbit.
Maybe, after this, Raffles and I would enjoy a quiet dinner. Maybe we would reminisce, drinking and smoking, joking and laughing, until late and retire together in peaceful partnership.
It would be a fine way to celebrate a special day.
Poor Cesare.
I slid my eyes towards Raffles without turning my head, a prey’s move but one I have honed through much practice, much surreptitious observation of him.
Oh, no! Damn him!
I caught him looking, while pretending not to look, at the woman in the spring-coloured frock and matching baubles across the aisle.
Of course. He’ll have to have them. Tonight? Tonight.
Happy anniversary.