New story!

I'm really excited to have my first story up here. I'm aware the Shakespearean language may not be great, but I wanted to give it a try! Basically, this story is about Tybalt and Rosaline, told mainly from Rosaline's point of view. It takes place before, and then during, Romeo and Juliet.

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone from the original Romeo and Juliet play, but I own Rosaline's personality, and several new members of each family.

Enjoy!

UPDATE - This story has been discontinued. It has, however, had the grammar and spelling checked and edited, as well as had the appalling Middle English removed.


I appreciated being out in the open air, instead of the miserable hovel I referred to as home. And I appreciated being with him too.

He was pretty much my saviour. We were only related through marriage to the great Capulet family. He was part of it - I am not, although I wish I was. I wish I had a family like his.

"Tibby" I said, using the name he only allowed his mother, Juliet and myself to call him "When do you think we should return home?"

"Return home?" he repeated, lying on his back, staring into the sky. Tybalt liked to come to the meadow as much as I did. It was peaceful, it was quiet, and it gave us time alone. We didn't need to speak sometimes, we merely sat in each other's company. Sometimes Tybalt would bring me a book to read to him. He was taught to read as a child, although he despised it, wanting to play with the children in the streets. I was not, and had to beg my mother to beg my Capulet relations to arrange for me to be taught. I did enjoy my lessons, and these lessons expanded to mathematics, in which my tutor proclaimed I had a natural gift for numbers and figures, particularly with money.

Alas, as a female, I could not continue this. After surpassing Tybalt's reading skills, I took to reading to him, to encourage him to give it another go. But his temper ran short with his tutor, and the tutor refused to teach him. Word spread about his desire not to be taught, and consequently no one would teach him. This suited him fine. I think he only liked to hear me read to him, because he liked the sound of my voice.

"Yes. I was just wondering, as the sun is getting rather low in the sky, and it is not the safest thing to do, to walk home through my street…" I let my voice trail off and Tybalt sat up.

"I am armed" he stated, gesturing to his rapier with pride. I felt relief wash through me, but dread, as I knew all too well how foul-mannered Tybalt could be, especially in the presence of…

"The Montagues" growled Tybalt, pointing.

"Where?" I asked, more dread filling me up.

"Over there" he pointed in there direction again.

"Is Romeo there?" I questioned, worrying.

"No, because otherwise his ugly face would be causing us to go temporarily blind"

"Thank goodness" I sighed.

"Why? Has he been giving you grief again? I'll kill him. Just say the word and I shall do it"

"If you want to be locked up for the rest of your life, go ahead. But I won't visit you in prison"

Tybalt rolled his grey eyes "I will walk you home, then"

"Thank you" I replied. The shadows caused by the dying sun flicked as we walked along, praying not to be seen by the Montagues. I noticed Tybalt shaking, trying to stop himself running over and starting a fight with them, for my sake, and I felt a small sense of pride. Tybalt had never been good with his temper, and then Mercutio and Romeo realised they could hit him…with words. He is not clever, and therefore not particularly witty. They poke fun of his name, his fighting skills, his clothes, anything they can think of. It is usually Mercutio. Romeo is too busy writing another love poem to some poor unfortunate maiden (these days, it is usually me)

"This way" Tybalt led the way away from the Montagues, and then we heard an all too familiar voice.

"When he was two he-" the voice cut off to explode into a fit of giggles.

"Tell us, Hermia! Tell us!" begged the crowd of Montagues.

"He toddled all the way past your lot, past the Lanceley's, past the Fulgencio's, all the way up to the Prince, and said 'Your hose is twisted around the wrong way and your crown is lopsided!'"

In the blink of a second, Tybalt had turned away from me, and was storming across the Meadow.

"No…" I groaned to myself, before following.

"Hermia!" he roared. Hermia, the black sheep of the Capulet family, turned, her short red hair loose and askew under a cap, that actually belonged to Tybalt. I recognised it as a gift from his eccentric mother. That wasn't the only item of clothing she wore that belonged to Tybalt. I recognised his doublet, hose, and shoes. Hermia grinned as she watched Tybalt look at her bizarre outfit.

"That…that's my doublet! And my hose! And…that hat! My mother gave me that!" roared Tybalt across the meadow as we neared them.

"She does look lovely!" exclaimed Mercutio, a horrible young man of sixteen, whom I recognised as Romeo's best friends, as Hermia did a twirl.

"No!" snarled Tybalt "Hermia! As a young lady, you should not be wearing an outfit as revealing, as, as, that!"

"Oh, but Tybalt, my favourite cousin, you are so fat that your doublet keeps everything under my waist covered. The rest, well, you display those to the world as well"

Tybalt was lost for words. I knew the pattern so well. Someone or something would offend him. He would argue his point until they out-witted him, and he didn't know what to say. Then he stood still, lights flashing behind his hostile grey eyes, until he either let go, and charged at the enemy, or thought of something else to yell at them about. He was at the stage where his eyes flashed.

"You are a badly behaved, promiscuous, disgraceful-"

"Tell me something I do not know, Tybalt" sang Hermia.

"I am going to walk Rosaline home. Then I am going to take you to your father, and your father will punish you. Do you understand?"

"No. Could you say it again, please?"

The Montagues all laughed at Tybalt and the cycle began again, his eyes flashing.

"I don't think you are funny. Do you think she is funny, Rosaline?"

I shook my head "Let's go, Tybalt. It is getting dark. Let's leave Hermia to humiliate herself"

Tybalt glared in Mercutio's direction "I will make sure Hermia never spends one more minute in your company after today" he hissed.

"Tybalt" I warned.

"Yes, that is right, off to Rosaline. What is she, your mother?" mocked Mercutio. It was Hermia's turn to laugh at his jokes. All of a sudden, Tybalt twisted around and grabbed Mercutio by the shoulders.

"How dare you insult me in that manner! How dare you abduct and debauch the maidens of my family!" Mercutio was shook for every syllable Tybalt hissed.

"I don't see any maidens from your family, apart from yourself" Hermia sniggered.

"She is a boy!" giggled one of the younger lads. He probably wasn't even thirteen.

"Cleverly observed, Haroldo" Hermia nodded.

"Tibby, let's just go" I begged.

"TIBBY!" the Montagues roared with laughter "What a stupid name! Is that what she calls you! Tibby!"

"Tibby darling!" shrieked Hermia in a high-pitched voice, that was meant to imitate mine. Tybalt dropped Mercutio, who crumpled to the floor, and grabbed Hermia by the waist, slinging her over his shoulder. Hermia meowed in protest, Tybalt's hat falling off her head. Tybalt stormed away, with me following in his wake. The Montagues jeered and shouted after us, but Tybalt ignored them, his jaw set defiantly.

We set off.