Author's Note: A Still Star Crossed Fic. (IF you aren't watching you should be even though it's predictable as anything because it's still awesome and adorable and I love it:) It's on Monday nights on ABC at 9pm. Please Review!
"And here I thought you were counting down the days." No sooner had the words escaped Benvolio's lips than he had cursed them. He hadn't just flirted with the Capulet, had he? No. He was teasing. To make her uncomfortable. To torture her. NOT to flirt. He was certainly, most definitely, NOT flirting.
But just to be on the safe side, he made sure not to offer his arm as they walked back towards the affray of their families. When they reached the square once more, they both stood tall, calmed their expression, and surveyed what needed to be done.
"This is out of control." Rosaline murmured. She looked up at him. "No one will take me seriously. You need to take charge."
"Me?" Benvolio asked with a start. "Isn't that the prince's job?" Huh. He hadn't meant to sound so bitter about Escalus, but his words had certainly come out with more emotion than he'd intended.
"Of the rest of the people, yes. But we need to control our families before any more blood is shed." She was right, and Benvolio knew it. He also knew that she would likely be better at manipulating the situation than he was. But she was a woman, and neither his uncle, nor hers were just going to listen to any show of power from her. They had to unite their families. And they had to remind the visiting emissaries that Verona was strong, and united. Glancing around, he saw the stage they'd been standing upon mere minutes earlier. He reached down and grabbed Rosaline's hand in his and led her there. Once they stood upon it, rickety and charred as it was, he was taller than anyone else in the square.
"People of Verona!" He called out loudly. The noise in the square quieted and he could feel them staring at him. His eyes sought out those who mattered. His uncle, Lord Capulet, the Prince, the ambassadors, and then finally, the people. "A tragedy has occurred on what was to be a blessed day for my beloved and I. But we do not stand desolate and afraid. We will rise against those who seek to tear us apart. My uncle and hers are both committed to our union. It was not Capulet nor Montague who did this today. It was a foreign power. Seeking to weaken Verona. But we will not weaken! We will stand taller and stronger than ever before, as our great families combine their power to rebuild this square." People were murmuring appreciatively now, and Benvolio could see his uncle smiling, pleased. Lord Capulet, however, looked... bemused. A bit dazed even. He could see two of the ambassadors taking note of the speech as well. The third, the man from Venice was it? Benvolio couldn't find him. He only hoped the man hadn't been harmed in the blast. That would foretell no good for anyone. "We begin strengthening and rebuilding now. Those of you whom are injured," He paused, analyzing what he knew. Capulet had no money to lend to this cause, but rebuilding and strengthening the city had to come from both the families for their scheme to work. The Capulets and Montagues had to truly align if they were to escape marriage to one another. "Those of you who are injured, find shelter in Capulet's house. The Montagues will be sending doctors, apothecaries, and supplies there to treat you." Benvolio knew his uncle could foot the bill and not even dent his stores. And with Capulet's grand home, there would be more than enough room for all of the injured. Benvolio's eyes met the Prince's and he paused, confused. The man had the oddest look on his face. On one hand, he seemed to approve of Benvolio's words. On the other, his eyes kept dashing down to where Benovlio's hand held Rosaline's own quivering fingers.
Oh. Right. The Prince favored her. Benvolio had even seen them kissing. His fingers clenched around her's involuntarily. It was ridiculous. He didn't want to marry her. He was actively trying to avoid that end, in fact, right this very minute. And yet...she was his fiance. It was the principle of the thing, really, nothing to do with Rosaline. Other men shouldn't go around kissing engaged woman, no matter the situation of the engagement. It was... horridly... It was inappropriate. It was against all situations of decorum and if anyone else had seen, he'd have had more than enough grounds to refuse the engagement and demand... well another Capulet probably. His uncle may be forced to admit that he couldn't very well claim true love with a girl caught kissing another, but that didn't mean a marriage to a Capulet wasn't still what he'd be forced into, and the other cousins, they seemed... meeker. More... well not more, they seemed less... less like Rosaline. He despised the Capulet to be sure, but of the lot as a whole, he could do a lot worse. At least with her he knew what he was getting. At least with her, she despised him as much as he did her and he wouldn't have to deal with some fanciful girl fooling herself into thinking she was in love with him only to have to break her heart one day. Neither of them loved each other. And that was good.
Wasn't it?
It was cold. That was what Rosaline was thinking as they walked back towards the square. It made no sense. It was summer. The entire square had just been lit on fire. And yet she was cold. Frozen. Her hands were starting to shake they were so cold. She'd just gotten herself engaged to Benvolio Montague. And then the square had exploded. She'd been fine - thrilled even - as they'd chased down the culprit. Her heart had raced at the excitement as they'd planned and schemed, and she'd even been a touch charmed when he found himself comfortable enough to tease her. They were going to have to work together to bring about this change in Verona, and stop their marriage. At the very least, it was good that they might become friends during this process. Not that she'd want to stay friends with the Montague afterwords. But they'd work together better if they weren't jumping down each other's throats the whole time. It had been good. They'd been planning. She'd been thrilled at the first glimpse of hope she'd had for weeks. But then they'd walked back to the square. Then she'd had to step over a dead body. Then she'd seen her uncle walking about like a ghost as her sister sat, covered in blood, tending to their aunt who looked equally as shell shocked. Then she'd seen the guards drag her friend, the Princess away to safety. Then she'd seen the ambassador from Venice, impaled and bleeding. She'd seen the true damage the man had wrought, and she was cold. She was so unbearably cold. Benvolio took her hand as they'd climbed back onto that hateful podium where she'd sworn herself away to him. His hand was warm, she'd noticed. His had was wonderfully warm and she clutched it, desperate to feel warm again. He spoke to the crowd. He spoke well. And his plan was good. Very good. Capulet and Montague, working together to help the people. It would give them a chance for a few 'love' displays at her home while the people watched, to really cement the idea that the families were one and to show her uncle that she was dedicated to the job so that Olivia could become a lady again. As he finished, the people were nodding. There was a sort of steely resilience beginning to show in some of their eyes again. They could do this. They truly could. When he'd finished his speech, his uncle stood and approved of the plan, looking to her own uncle for his declaration. There was none. Her uncle simply looked out into the crowd, dazed. Much to her surprise, Rosaline's aunt stood, a large cut very visible on her arm. She accepted the Montague's assistance of personnel and supplies, and officially invited the injured to join her at her home where we could heal together. Benvolio moved to remove them from the pedestal, their hands still joined. He looked at Rosaline, confused.
"You're shaking." He spoke quietly. She nodded.
"It's freezing." Rosaline let out, between chattering teeth. Benvolio looked around and then back at her, his eyes conveying his confusion at her words. Instead of remarking on it, he simply let go of her hand, and wrapped his arm around her.
"I'm quite warm. I'm happy to share the heat with you, my lady." It was thusly that they walked over to some Montagues that Benvolio knew.
"Lysander." He spoke, tossing a coin to one. "Let me borrow your horse. I must get my betrothed back to her home."
"I haven't a carriage here." Benvolio shrugged.
"It's a short ride." With his own gesture of indifference, Lysander handed Benvolio the reins to his horse. Benvolio held turned to Rosaline and reached out, gripping her hips, lifting her onto the horse. In a single motion, he swung up behind her and reached around her, gripping the horse's reins. This position meant that his arms were wrapped around Rosaline, holding her in place, but also, it was important to note, just holding her. It could have almost been romantic if the two of them had held any interest in the other what so ever. He urged the horse into a trot and they slowly made their way out of the square. Rosaline held onto the horse's mane, her eyes closed.
"Do you ride often?" Benvolio asked as they made their way to the other side of the city.
"Yes." She replied, much to his surprise. "Well, not recently. I used to quite frequently. Papa bought Olivia and I horses for our 8th and 10th birthdays respectively, and we used to ride all over the country side. It was my favorite thing to do as a child. Barron and I would spend all day running about if we could, before mama called me in to be a proper lady anyway." Rosaline smiled at the memory. She missed riding, more than she'd admitted to herself. But now, feeling the movements of the horse beneath her, she remembered well the feeling of flying through the feilds, a grin on her face, and a laugh in the air. She bit her lip, and turned back towards Benvolio.
"Can we run?" She asked. "I know we're in the city limits so we aren't supposed to go faster than a trot unless there's an emergency, but the town square just blew up. I think that qualifies as an emergency." Benvolio grinned at her and in a moment, he'd urged the horse on and they were running. Rosaline held on to the horse's mane delighted, and smiled, feeling the sun's hot rays on her skin.
She laughed. It was one of the first times since she'd become her cousin's servant, but in this moment, Rosaline laughed.
He still hated her. Actually, probably not hate. He still held her in great contempt, if not viewing her as a useful ally in his quest to NOT marry her.
But even he had to admit. She had a beautiful laugh.
A/N: Please Review!