Author's Notes: It's my first Shakespeare fic, and I do not yet have the skill to write in 'Ye Olde English', so it's mostly in modern prose, but I have avoided modern cliches. I may continue it with other people's perspectives, but I want to see if I'll get any feedback first. It's a short introspective piece, taking place sometime during Viola's masquerade as Cezario.
Disclaimer: They all belong to the bard.
TALES FROM THE TWELFTH KNIGHT: VIOLA
You don't see me, Orsino. Not really. Your ears have proven blind to my words and not once have you listened to me. Yet I have loved you all this time, as though it didn't matter. And it doesn't. Because whether you hear me or not, I will still love you.
I wish you could see what she does to me--what you do to me. I would have put up with Olivia's dotings for no other. Despite my horror at the situation, it still holds fascinating for me that your lady-love was struck by Cupid's arrow to dote on my creation. And that is all Cezario is: a creation.
Yet this creation has been your greatest friend, and has caused me to love you. It is a strange truth. I have taken on a roll. That roll is your herald, the boy to whom you tell your most romantic fantasies. But within this boy, there is a girl named Viola, and she envies your Olivia.
And as for Olivia? I know not what to think of her. I may sympathise--I know the pain of a lost brother--but I cannot understand her. I did not create Cezario to entice. Yet she fawns over 'me' as I attempt to repel her, and rejects you. What sane woman would do as such? Or perhaps it is as simple as this: she is not sane.
As much as I love you, there was another I loved as much, though in a different way. His name was Sebastian, and he was my brother. Though you would doubt me, the fact that I lost him wounds me a thousand times greater than the pain you have in knowing you will never have Olivia by your side. And I think you do know she will not have you; you have simply seen fit to deny it.
But Oh! How I wish you could see me for who I am! I am viewed as a brother, would that I were seen as a wife. I am trapped in my own deception, yet not once have I lied to you. If only you knew how difficult it is to maintain that hold on truth. Look at all I have said to you...
"My father had a daughter..."
"I know...too well what love women to men may owe..."
"I am all the daughters of my father's house..."
"...loved a man as much, were I woman, I would your lordship..."
But I am woman, and I do love you. I drop traces of truth in your way for you to see, but you have eyes only for Olivia's beauty. I cry out for you to understand with silent pleas and, as always, my screams fall upon your sweet deaf ears.
A/N: Please Review.
Disclaimer: They all belong to the bard.
TALES FROM THE TWELFTH KNIGHT: VIOLA
You don't see me, Orsino. Not really. Your ears have proven blind to my words and not once have you listened to me. Yet I have loved you all this time, as though it didn't matter. And it doesn't. Because whether you hear me or not, I will still love you.
I wish you could see what she does to me--what you do to me. I would have put up with Olivia's dotings for no other. Despite my horror at the situation, it still holds fascinating for me that your lady-love was struck by Cupid's arrow to dote on my creation. And that is all Cezario is: a creation.
Yet this creation has been your greatest friend, and has caused me to love you. It is a strange truth. I have taken on a roll. That roll is your herald, the boy to whom you tell your most romantic fantasies. But within this boy, there is a girl named Viola, and she envies your Olivia.
And as for Olivia? I know not what to think of her. I may sympathise--I know the pain of a lost brother--but I cannot understand her. I did not create Cezario to entice. Yet she fawns over 'me' as I attempt to repel her, and rejects you. What sane woman would do as such? Or perhaps it is as simple as this: she is not sane.
As much as I love you, there was another I loved as much, though in a different way. His name was Sebastian, and he was my brother. Though you would doubt me, the fact that I lost him wounds me a thousand times greater than the pain you have in knowing you will never have Olivia by your side. And I think you do know she will not have you; you have simply seen fit to deny it.
But Oh! How I wish you could see me for who I am! I am viewed as a brother, would that I were seen as a wife. I am trapped in my own deception, yet not once have I lied to you. If only you knew how difficult it is to maintain that hold on truth. Look at all I have said to you...
"My father had a daughter..."
"I know...too well what love women to men may owe..."
"I am all the daughters of my father's house..."
"...loved a man as much, were I woman, I would your lordship..."
But I am woman, and I do love you. I drop traces of truth in your way for you to see, but you have eyes only for Olivia's beauty. I cry out for you to understand with silent pleas and, as always, my screams fall upon your sweet deaf ears.
A/N: Please Review.