Good den, readers! It's good to be back; this is my first story in months! Anyhoo, the story belongs to William Shakespeare, but Seraina, Viviana, Adriana, and Sylvano all belong to yours truly. Enjoy!
Serafina Capulet hated the summer. The summer was hot, and humid, and the air became thick with anger and sweat. She preferred to stay indoors during the summer. At home there was shade, and oft a cool breeze. Much better than the market, where the loud yells of the commoners could make any girl faint in minutes.
It was still morning. Serafina walked carefully down the stone steps into the garden; some of the steps had cracked and crumbled when stepped on. Her garden was so precious to her. Many a day she sat in the shade of her orange trees, splashing her feet in the rock pool.
"Serafina!" came a shout from an upstairs window. She looked above her to see a young girl's head poking out the window, her soft brown hair falling a ways down. The girl was Serafina's sister, the youngest of the four, Viviana.
"What is it, Viviana?" Serafina replied, halfway down the steps.
"Mother wishes to speak with you," the girl replied. Serafina sighed. The garden would have to wait. She turned around, and started up the steps. As she moved, one of the steps gave way under her foot. Serafina stumbled and the step crumbled, and she toppled over into the bushes beside the stairs.
Viviana's hand flew to her mouth, and she disappeared from the window. Seconds later she flew out the garden door, ran down to the crumbling steps, and tried to locate her older sister within the plants and leaves.
Serafina was laughing hysterically when Viviana found her hands amid the branches and pulled her out, onto the stone stairs.
"Thank you Viviana," Serafina laughed. The younger helped the older up into the house.
"Mother!" Serafina called, "Thou desirest for a word?"
"Ah, yes, Serafina," said her mother, who proceeded to pick the leaves out of Serafina's long dirty blond hair. "I require some bread, and I want you to purchase three loaves at the market."
"But mother!" Serafina protested, "Can you not send Sylvano? Or Tybalt?"
"Thou knowst what mischief Tybalt will stir should he encounter a Montague at the market, and Sylvano is at the church."
"B-but--" Serafina began, but she stopped. Her mother was right. Lady Adriana gave her daughter the money needed for three loaves, and sent her on her way.
"Yes, thank you," Serafina said, dropping the coins into the merchant's hand, and placing the loaves of bread in her basket, which was cradled in the crook of her arm. She was about to leave when she heard some shouting behind her. She turned to see her two friends of her eldest brother, Tybalt, jesting at and insulting two Montague men. She clapped her free hand to her mouth, knowing what was about to happen.
Serafina lifted the corner of her skirt to ease her escape. She heard the shriek of swords being drawn, and the clang of metal.
"Oh, Antonio! Regard the Capulet girl!" someone shouted. Serafina turned to see two Montague men coming toward her.
"Aye Salarino," Antonio replied, "A pretty little one, too. And not without her maidenhead!"
"I'd opt to take her maidenhead," Salarino laughed maliciously, "Or the maiden's head, whichever I desire!"
The two men began to advance faster. Serafina screamed and threw her basket at them and ran.
The Montagues proved to be faster than her; they didn't have heavy skirts to slow them. Serafina had to push commoners aside to escape.
"Tybalt! Sylvano!" she shrieked as she ran, hoping one of her brothers would hear her. Knowing Sylvano was at the church, she headed in its direction. When she got there, she saw Sylvano exiting the structure, to her relief, but the Montagues were still in pursuit.
"Sylvano!" Serafina screamed, "Aid me! They want my maidenhead!"
"A dog of the house of Montague dare touch my sister?" Sylvano shouted, drawing his rapier. Serafina ran behind her brother as he advanced on Salarino. When she moved, though, she felt a rock move under her foot. She found a loose stone in the pavement, about the size of her fist. She heaved it up and threw it at Antonio, winding him.
The sound of Sylvano and Salarino's swords clashing together was lost among shouting and crashing. The argument farther back had escalated into a full-out brawl. Sylvano lunged, Salarino dodged, Salarino slashed, Sylvano deflected. The fight was intense, and the two men seemed equally matched. Serafina threw the thought from her mind; Sylvano was better! How could a Montague best a Capulet?
Suddenly, Sylvano knocked the rapier out of Salarino's hand. The Montague turned and fled. Antonio had also slipped away unnoticed. Serafina clutched onto Sylvano, weeping silently. He stroked her hair comfortingly. They both looked up when a loud fanfare reached their ears.
"Rebellious subjects! Enemies to peace!" came a shout from the same direction as the fanfare. Being atop the church steps, the two young Capulets could see across most of the market. From their perch they watched the town's prince Escalus ride into the square on horseback, accompanied by his train. They effectively chased most of those involved in the brawl up towards the church.
"On pain of torture, from those bloody hands throw your distempered weapons to the ground and hear the sentence of your moved prince!" Escalus shouted. Sylvano simply opened his palm and let his rapier drop, where it clattered down the steps. The rest of the people dropped theirs as well.
"Three civil brawls," the prince continued, "bred of an airy word by thee, old Capulet, and Montague, have thrice disturbed the quiet of our streets. If you ever disturb our streets again, your lives shall pay the forfeit of the peace. Once more, on pain of death, all men depart!"