Caspina de Gatto: Thanks for all your nice compliments! ;-D
Henry II's the type of guy who's always trying to be one step ahead of his enemies. As they say, "Keep your friends close, but keep your enemies closer".
Yes, I think we all can guess what Hyde plans to do now...
You know Loki, he loves to annoy his big bro! ;-D
Yes, poor Mercutio is going to have a very hard time in the next few months... :-(
The three songs in this final chapter are: *1. "Bicycle Race", by Queen.* *2. "Caribbean Blue", by Enya.* *3. "Non Nobis, Domine", by City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, Patrick Doyle, and Simon Rattle - Henry V: Original Soundtrack Recording, 1989.*
I have to admit, the song "Non Nobis, Domine," from Kenneth Branagh's 1989 movie of "Henry V" is one of the most beautiful pieces of music that I've ever heard. When I watched the film, that's what struck me first. The song and the scene that it went with were just so beautiful. The scene was filmed in one shot, actually; you've got to have good actors to pull it off in one go without any cuts!
This took a long time, but I hope you all like it! :-D
"Come on! Up! Up!" Warwick turned on the lights in each room as he stormed down the corridor. He kicked open a door, not caring whose room it was, and turned on the lights before moving further down. "Up! Up! Up! UP!"
"Be quiet, Warwick, I'm on the phone!" Ned yelled back from inside his room.
"Turn it off; you've been on it for ages!" Warwick snapped back and moved down the corridor.
"I'm up, Sir!" Harry came out of his room.
"So am I!" Tudor echoed, coming out of his.
"Here!" Richard and Clarence came out of the lounge area.
"ROLL CALL!" Warwick yelled, and everyone came spilling out of their rooms.
"Loki and Sigyn here, Sir!" Mischief grinned, holding onto the girl's hand tightly.
"Where's Thor?" Warwick frowned.
"LOKI!" Thor angrily came running up the corridor. "YOU ARE DEAD! YOU PUT SPIDERS ALL OVER MY BED?!"
"Oops, have to dash!" Loki turned and ran, but Thor grabbed him by the collar before he could get anywhere. "Oh, rats!"
Warwick rolled his eyes. "Right. Is everyone here? Register! Everyone go into the lounge area!"
Warwick stood by the door and ticked the names of the students as they came in one by one. He frowned. "Where's Banquo, Macbeth?"
"He's in his room, but he'll be out in a minute," Macbeth answered. "There he is!" He pointed, seeing his best friend come running down the corridor towards them.
Banquo gave a bright smile to Warwick in apology when he reached them. "Sorry, Sir, just putting something away," he said.
"Good, everyone's here. Right, off to the stage, everyone!" Warwick grinned, tapping his pen against the clipboard he held.
As the students trooped out, Richard leaned over and tapped George on the shoulder. He motioned suspiciously to a scarf that the American had recently put round his neck. "What's that on for?" he whispered.
"Nothin'!" the American snapped back. "Mind yer own business!"
Slim saw the anger radiating off the boy, and placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him. He then looked over at Richard and nodded with his head to signify something. Richard nodded back.
"Good luck, Tudor," Harry smiled at his cousin.
"And you, Harry," Tudor ruffled his cousin's hair fondly.
"Let's knock this competition dead!" Hal grinned.
"2, 4, 6, 8, who do we appreciate?" Clarence sang out loud.
"Not the King, not the Queen, but Middleham High's music team!" Richard joined in.
"That's treason, you bastards," Hal mocked gasped. "Bow to me now for penance!"
"Never!" Ned laughed good heartedly at him.
"Alright, simmer down!" Warwick chuckled. "Ned, you know what to do. I'm counting on you."
"Chill, Warwick. I've got it covered," Ned replied. Then his phone went off. Ned opened it. "Hastings, babe!" he grinned. "How's my man-crush doing?"
"'Man-crush'? Ewww!" Clarence yelled, disgusted.
"I'll have to speak to you later, babe, I'm about to go on stage. Yeah, yeah, love you too, bro! Laters!" Ned hung up the phone and noticed everyone glaring at him. "What?"
"'Man-crush'?" Clarence repeated.
"'Babe'?" Richard looked confused.
"'Laters'?" Edmund raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, shut it! Hastings is my best friend in the whole world. He practically raised me, along with Dad."
"That makes it even more sick." Clarence twitched his nose in disgust.
"Whatever." Ned rolled his eyes dismissively.
"Move it or lose it," Warwick told him. "Get your Yorkist backsides onto that stage before I can say: 'Mad King Harold would be a better king than you'."
"Ouch!" Ned took a deep intake of breath.
As the Gang walked through the door, Warwick reached over and placed a hand on George's shoulder. "Sorry, lad. Scarf has to go off. Besides, you weren't wearing it earlier..."
The small teen blinked at him in surprise and suspicion. "I can't take the scarf off, Sir," he said quietly and slowly.
"Why not, lad?"
"I have a nasty gash that I don't want people to see."
"I'd gladly put some antisceptic on it for you now, if you want."
"No. Thank you."
"Son, I have to tell you now as a command to take the scarf off."
"I'm not your son! I'm not anyone's son!" George's eyes flashed with fury.
"I'm sorry, lad, but I have to take that scarf off."
"Why?!" George stepped away. "If I want to go on stage with a scarf on, I can!"
"Right, I'm sorry for this, lad." Warwick grabbed the scarf and pulled it away before George could stop him.
Bright red bite marks covered the lad's neck.
"Bite marks. Who's bitten you?" Warwick coldly asked.
"No one!"
"Clearly someone has, lad..." Warwick knelt down in front of him and placed his hands on his shoulders. "Who?"
"It's nothin' to do with you! You were a teen once! I'm sure you got bite marks too!" The frail boy cried in protest.
Warwick searched his eyes and sighed. "Was it someone in the Gang? No one else could have given you them."
"No."
"A stranger? You're not allowed to do that on a school trip, George."
"As if I give a damn!" George pulled angrily away. "Why can't everyone jus' leave me alone?!" He stormed off to join the others. Warwick sighed sadly as he watched him scurry off. "Poor boy..." He muttered to himself. "He seems so lost..."
"Come on, guys, let's go, let's go!" Ned coached. "Right, Clarence, Gloucester, you know your positions for this song. Hal, get ready to kick some French ass."
"Waterloo and Agincourt! Doodah! Doodah!" Hal chanted, grinning. "I'll do my namesake and predecessor proud!"
"That's the spirit, Hal!" Ned clapped him on the back. "Brothers, are you ready?"
"As ready as we'll ever be, Ned..." Richard grinned and turned to Clarence. "Alright, Clarence, let's rock this stage!"
"After you..." Clarence smirked, and followed the other three males onto the dark stage.
*1. "Bicycle Race", by Queen.*
(The stage was dark and silent before three voices filled the air.)
Three voices: Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
(The lights flash on to reveal Ned, Clarence and Richard standing in a row behind Hal, who stood at the front. Hal is wearing a prop crown on his head.)
Hal: I want to ride my-
(The beat begins and Hal starts to bounce up and down on his feet.)
Ned, Clarence and Richard: Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
Hal: I want to ride my bicycle!
I want to ride my bike!
I want to ride my bicycle!
I want to ride it where I like!
N, C and R: You say black!
Hal (Spins round to point at them): I say white!
N,C and R: You say bark!
Hal: I say bite! (Clenches his teeth at them.)
N,C and R: You say shark!
Hal: I say, hey man! (Shakes his head at them.)
Jaws was never my scene (He spins back round to face the front and slides to the left, throwing his hands in the air in a declaration.) and I don't like Star Wars!
(The three York brothers gasp in shock and Ned puts a hand to his head as if to faint.)
N,C and R: You say Rolls! (Slides to the left.)
Hal: I say Royce! (Slides to the right.)
N,C and R: You say God!
Hal: Give me a choice! (Throws his hands in the air in exasperation.)
N,C and R: You say Lord! (Point at him.)
Hal: I say Christ! (Falls to his knees and throws his hands up to the ceiling.)
I don't believe in Peter Pan,
Frankenstein or Superman!
All I wanna do is:
(Stands up and slides over to the right.)
N,C and R: Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
Hal: I want to ride my -
N,C and R: Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
Hal (Runs across the stage, leaping into the air): I want to ride my bicycle!
I want to ride my bike!
I want to ride my bicycle!
I want to ride my:
(Slides down in front of the three York Brothers, onto his knees, and assumes a praying position. The York Brothers copy his stance, hands also in prayer.)
N,C and R: Bicycle races are coming your way-
Hal: So forget all your duties, oh yeah! (Hal takes his crown off his head and throws it aside.)
N,C and R: Fat bottomed girls, they'll be riding today-
Hal: So look out for those beauties, oh yeah! (He holds a hand over his eyes, scanning the stage for a woman on a bike.)
(The York Brothers pick him up and position him into a running stance.)
N,C and R: On your marks! Get set! Go!
(Hal speeds off across the stage as other Gang members come onto the stage to cheer him on as he runs.)
First half of the group: Bi-
Other half: cycle race! Bi
First half: cycle race! Bi
Other half: cycle race!
Everyone (Excluding Hal): Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
Hal (Now back at the centre of the stage, at the front): I want to ride my-
Everyone (Excluding Hal): Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle! Bicycle!
(I want a)
Bicycle race!
(The stage is submerged in darkness as the sounds of bicycle bells ring out.)
(The sound of guitars and drums fills the stage, and the light comes back on to see Edmund and George quickly playing the guitars, while Geoffrey plays the drums at the back.)
N,C and R: You say coke!
Hal (Whirls round to face them): I say caine!
N,C and R: You say John!
Hal: I say Wayne!
N, C and R: Hot dog! (Angrily stamp their feet at Hal's audacity.)
Hal: I say cool it, man! (He spins back round to face the front and slides to the right, throwing his hands in the air in a declaration.)
I don't wanna be the President of America!
(Ned pretends to faint again.)
N, C and R: You say smile!
Hal: I say cheese!
N,C and R: Cartier!
Hal (Faces them and puts on a begging pose): I say please!
N,C and R: Income tax!
Hal (Falls to his knees in disbelief): I say Jesus,
I don't wanna be a candidate
For Vietnam or Watergate!
'Cause all I want to do is-
(Hal leaps to his feet again, running over to a bike actually brought out onto the stage, and he begins to ride around the stage.)
N,C and R: Bicycle!
Hal: Yeah!
N,C and R: Bicycle!
Hal: Hey!
N,C and R: Bicycle!
Hal: I want to ride my-
N,C and R: Bicycle! Bicycle!
Hal: C'mon!
N,C and R: Bicycle!
(Hal continues to ride the bike but starts to slow down to reach the centre of the stage. He then stops as he begins to sing.)
Hal: I want to ride my bicycle!
I want to ride my bike!
I want to ride my bicycle!
I want to ride it where I like!
(The lights fade out, leaving everyone in darkness.)
*2. "Caribbean Blue", by Enya.*
(The lights come back on to reveal Tudor at the keyboards.) "While the Gang prepare for our last song, how about a nice, slow, calm song to pass the time?" he offers the audience.
(Kate and Anne appear on stage and Tudor begins to play the keyboards.)
Kate: Eurus
Afer Ventus..
Anne: So the world goes round and round
With all you ever knew.
They say the sky high above
Is Caribbean blue...
Both: Ooooooh. Ooooh. Ooooh! Ooooh!
Anne: If every man says all he can,
If every man is true,
Do I believe the sky above
Is Caribbean blue...
Kate:... Boreas...
... Zephryus...
Both: Aaaah. Aaaaaah Eeeeeh. Aaaah.
Anne: If all you told was turned to gold,
If all you dreamed was new,
Imagine sky high above.
In Caribbean blue...
Anne: Aaaaah. Aaaah. Oooooh. Aaaah... Aaaaah. Eeeeeeh... Aaah
Kate:... Eurus...
Afer Ventus...
... Boreas
Zephryus...
... Africus...
Both: Aaaaaah. Aaaaaaah...
(Tudor's playing stops and he stands up to bow as the audience claps politely to him and the girls, who curtsey.)
Hal appears on the top of the stairs, wearing royal clothes and his prop crown. He starts to speak:
"Do we all holy rites.
Let there be sung Non nobis and Te Deum,
The dead with charity enclosed in clay,
And then to Calais, and to England then,
Where ne'er from France arrived more happy men."
- Henry V: Act 4, Scene 8.
Translation of the speech:
"We'll perform all the holy rites. Let Non nobis and Te Deum be sung, and let the dead be buried properly. Then on to Calais, and from there to England. There have never been more fortunate men than we to return from France."
(This is after the victory at Agincourt, where King Henry V and his men praise God for their astounding victory against the French and prepare to go home to England.)
(The lights fade down again for a minute.)
*3. "Non Nobis, Domine", by City of Birmingham Symphony Orchestra, Patrick Doyle, and Simon Rattle - Henry V: Original Soundtrack Recording, 1989.*
Translation of the lyrics:
"Not unto us, O Lord, not unto us,
but unto thy Name give the praise!"
(The lights shine on stage to see Harry at the far end, wearing a monk's outfit, with the hood over his head, holding a golden cross prop in his hands against his chest. He stands at the right hand side of the stage and slowly starts to sing by himself.)
Harry: Non nobis Domine, Domine.
Non nobis Domine.
Sed nomine, sed nomine.
Tuo da gloriam!
(He starts to walk across the stage, followed by the Plantagenet males, who are all (apart from Hal) wearing similar monk outfits. Hal is at the front of the group, wearing his royal clothes and prop crown.)
Plantagenets: Non nobis Domine, Domine.
Non nobis Domine.
Sed nomine, sed nomine.
Tuo da gloriam!
Non nobis Domine, Domine.
Non nobis Domine.
Sed nomine, sed nomine.
Tuo da gloriam!
(They walk towards the stairs, where there are two sets. They split in half and one group goes up one set, and one group goes up the other.)
Set 1 (With the higher voices): Non nobis Domine, Domine! Non nobis Domine!
Set 2 (With lower voices): Non nobis Domine, Domine.
Set 1: Sed nomine, sed nomine!
Set 2: Sed nomine, sed nomine.
Set 2: Tuo da gloriam.
Set 1: Tuo da gloriam!
(They all join up together at the top of the stairs.)
All: Non nobis Domine, Domine.
Non nobis Domine.
Sed nomine, sed nomine.
Tuo da gloriam!
Non nobis Domine, Domine.
Non nobis Domine.
Sed nomine, sed nomine.
Tuo da gloriam!
(As the instrumental plays, they begun to walk down the stairs again. Hal stands at the centre of the stage and the step beneath him begins to rise as a kind of pedestal. The Plantagenets watch in awe as Hal rises higher and higher into the air. All other members of the Gang join the stage, the boys and the girls, and sing with the Plantagenets.)
All of the Gang (Apart from Hal): Non nobis Domine, Domine.
Non nobis Domine.
Sed nomine, sed nomine.
Tuo da gloriam!
(They raise their hands in the air and point to Hal as the spotlight shines on him. He has a sword and is pointing it up high in the air. He looks very much like an ideal, golden, medieval king.)
All of the Gang (Apart from Hal): Tuuooo daaaaaa gloooooriiiiaaaaaaaaaaaam!
"Ladies and gentlemen, that is Middleham High School's encore! Now for a quick half hour break before the French students perform their encore. Then, after a final decision by the judges, the winner shall be announced!" the presenter declared cheerfully over the hall intercom.
Hal's smile was infectious as he strolled back to the dressing rooms. Ned clapped him on the back. "You were brilliant, Hal! I couldn't have done that better!"
"Ah, Ned, you were great as well!" Hal laughed. "That was awesome!"
"Alright, guys, it'll be a while before we have to go back up there, go and have a rest!" Warwick patted both of them on the shoulder.
"Sure, come on, Ned," and the two males walked down the corridor to the dressing rooms.
Warwick, smiling, turned round.
George was scarpering as fast as he could out of the emergency fire exit door. Frowning, Warwick followed him.
What he saw was George approaching an incredibly tall man wearing very old fashioned looking clothes. Was that a top-hat and cane?! Who went around looking like a Victorian man nowadays?! Was he in his 20s? 30s?
Fear settling into his heart like cement as the man placed a strong hand on the frail teen's shoulder, Warwick made a move. "George!" he called out quickly.
The man's head whipped round, and what Warwick saw chilled him to the bone and made his blood run cold.
The man's eyes were feral, narrow, murderous. His eyes were green but they looked almost yellow, like they were shining like headlights. His teeth were pulled back into a snarl and seemed to be jagged and pointy, like that of a wild animal. Good God, the man seemed more beast than man!
George whispered something and the man stopped snarling, though his warning gaze never wavered from Warwick's eyes. "Touch what is mine," he seemed to hiss at him, "and you're dead." His hand never moved from its tight grip on George's shoulder, but rather seemed to tighten; Warwick could see the muscles flexing in his hand, like he was readying himself for a fight, like he was a coil ready to spring.
"Leave..." the voice of the man was like that of a wolfish growl, or a snake's hiss. It had a constant growlish quality to it, like he was always angry towards everything and defensive in his approach to everything. He was like a creature constantly on the watch, always scanning the world to see if any threats were present. Watching and waiting to protect itself and its belongings.
Good God, he was treating the poor boy like a possession, like an adult lion standing in front of its young. But there was nothing paternal about this; Warwick's blood chilled even further when he saw how the man's other hand was...stroking, if you like, the lad's neck. Where the bite wounds were.
Warwick's eyes widened in horror. This creature was the one responsible for giving George those raw red wounds. The poor lad was being abused by some peadophile, surely!
"George, come with me. This man should know better than to hang around boys far younger than himself..." Warwick's voice was trying to remain calm, though the eyes of the creature had him pinned in fear to where he stood.
"I'm 17!" the creature hissed loudly. "I'm the same age as him!"
Now that he mentioned it, the beast did look younger than Warwick first thought him to.
"I'm okay, Warwick, this is my...friend..." George's eyes were silently pleading for him to take the hint and leave.
"Friends don't give each other wounds like that," Warwick replied coldly.
"We're friends with benefits, if you will..." the other teen's smile was horribly wicked. Warwick did not like him at all; it wasn't that he was deformed in some way, but he gave off some form of repugnance. Just looking at him gave him the shivers, even if he was human-looking and an attractive young man. There was something off about him; poor George looked like an innocent child next to him.
"George, come on," Warwick called to him. "We need you back inside."
"He's not going back inside for half an hour," the creature hissed angrily.
"How do you know that?" Warwick was quacking inside with fear.
"I've been watching the show; you're all very talented, Warwick, I must say!"
God, his name sounded horrible on this vile creature's tongue! Warwick hoped he'd never have to hear his name spoken by such an evil creature ever again. He shuddered in disgust.
"I'm okay, Sir, really." George's voice was quiet. "I won't be out long."
Warwick feared getting in this creature's way, but he feared for George's life more. "Now, George," his voice was firm.
"He's not going anywhere..." the creature's eyes seemed to flash in warning. "Leave us alone."
"I'm fine, Sir, really!" George looked terrified. "Please leave!"
This battle of wills was never going to end.
Then, the creature pushed the lad forward suddenly. "Go on, dear... I can see when I'm not wanted..." He mock-sighed, and turned as if to casually walk away.
Warwick strode forward and took a hold of George by the arm. "Who are you?"
The creature turned back round, his eyes narrowed and glowing. "My name is nothing to you. Pah!" He spat at Warwick, grimacing as if the older man were nothing more than an annoying fly.
"George, you will tell me who he is..." Warwick turned to the boy, eyes serious. "Now."
The creature laughed, hollow and evil sounding. "Go ahead if you want to, darling! Tell them who I am!"
George looked at the creature with desperation and sadness. He didn't know what to do, poor lamb... Then,
"Hyde... Edward Hyde..."
Now, wasn't that a cursed name? Warwick felt sick hearing it.
"My full name." Hyde's voice was that of a clear demand.
"Leonard Edward Louis Lucidius Robert Hyde," George gave his name in full like a child would recite a learned speech when a teacher told them to. "My...acquaintance..."
Warwick looked to the creature, now known to him as Hyde, and gulped in fear without realising. But Hyde saw, and his eyes gleamed with the knowledge of the power he held over the older man. Everyone was afraid of him.
"Mr. Hyde..." God, he hated that name already! "Why are you here?"
"To support George. He is in this competition, after all!"
"And why have I never seen you? Or heard of you before?"
"I live in France. George is distant...family." He grinned at the boy, eyes gleaming, as he knew that there was nothing 'familial' about their relationship at all - if only the fact that George had 'created' him, in a sense, like Frankenstein had created a monster that had brought nothing but pain and suffering to everyone it encountered. He turned back to Warwick. "I have every right to be here, Warwick..."
Warwick hated this beast more than words could say, and he'd only known him for less than five minutes! "I suggest that you leave, Mr. Hyde," he said slowly.
"Why?" The creature frowned, anger visibly radiating off of him. "What gives you the right to tell me to leave?"
"As George's headmaster and caretaker on this trip, I am responsible for his wellbeing," Warwick placed a protective arm around the boy.
"Oh, yes, and you've all been doing a MARVELLOUS job at that, haven't you?" Hyde snarled. "Where were you when his mother died?!"
"I BEG your pardon?!" Warwick lost his fear for a moment when he heard this insult from the vile monster's lips. "Where were you?!"
"Not even born yet!" Hyde wanted to spit back at him, but instead he lied and said: "I did not know. I only just found out last month..." Technically, he'd met George exactly two months ago this very night, but he knew everything about him long before he'd met him.
George stood still, head bowed to the floor in embarrassment at Hyde's lie; everything to do with Hyde was his fault, he knew that and would never forget it.
Hyde noticed George's anguish and felt anger burst within his veins. "We can talk later, Warwick. Look to the boy." He flicked a hand towards the lad and sneered in impatience.
Warwick frowned and knelt before George, like he was young child. "George, is he correct? Is he right? Is he your family?"
George nodded sadly. "My only family. He's all I have in this world now." The confession felt even worse to him, as he knew that his Aunt was now seriously ill, and could actually very well soon become a truth.
Hyde's eyes flickered with delight and sadness all at once.
"Do you want to go with him?"
George looked up at the two of them and nodded, slowly. "If you would allow me to, Sir..."
Warwick placed a tender, worried hand on his shoulder. "If ever you need help," he whispered, so that Hyde couldn't hear, "come and see me. Stay safe, George."
George looked into his eyes and nodded, while Hyde frowned and raged inside. What made that man think that HE could look out for the boy?! The boy was Hyde's! And Hyde's alone!
Warwick sighed and gestured for the boy to walk away. "Come back within half an hour, George. Good day to you...Mr. Hyde." His heart sickened when saying his name.
Hyde grinned, tipped his top hat in acknowledgement of the hidden disgust that he knew the man had for him, gave the man a mock-bow, took George's arm, and walked away, tapping his cane, as he went, against the ground. As he watched them go, he saw Hyde put his arm around the lad, and saw him kiss his head briefly as they went. George's shoulders seemed to sag at his touch, like was burderned with a heavy weight in his heart, and Hyde grinned back at Warwick triumphantly for a moment before turning back round and walking briskly away with the boy under his claws. Warwick wanted to call out for a moment. Stop the boy from walking into the lion's den, but he knew that George had already done so some time ago. Whether it was of his own choice, or through force, or both, Warwick didn't know, and didn't want to know.
The lamb was the lion's property now, and the lion was determined to show and prove to everyone that fact.
"You want to what?" Hal asked, softly, but incredulously as well.
Mercutio shuffled his feet nervously, wringing his hands together in embarrassment. "I want...I want to sing a song after the French do their encore. A song for my father..." his voice cracked at that, and Hal placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "One I think he would like. The Italians know what it is; one of the girls can sing with me."
"I'll ask Warwick. If this is what you want, Mio amico..." Hal's electric blue eyes scanned his lost friend's face. "If you are sure."
"I am, Hal. I'm sure."
Hal squeezed his shoulder gently, and left the room.
"I'll ask the judges if they will allow it," Warwick replied, after Hal had done much pleading on his friend's behalf.
"Thank you, Warwick..." Hal sighed in relief. "I'm surprised, that Mercurio wants to do this, but he is determined, and I will help him in whatever way I can."
"You are a good friend, and a good man, Hal. You will make a fine king, in good time." Warwick bowed to him. "Your Majesty."
Hal clasped his shoulder in thanks. "I am Hal to you. I am still a student at your school, and I want to be treated as such."
"You are a king, Hal. You have to be treated as such at times. But I will treat you as a Devil Twin still. Just don't throw stink bombs through my office window again!" Warwick warned him. "Or you will be in trouble: king or no!"
"Oh, Warwick, how could I ever forget that?" Hal laughed.
"The judges have your approval," Warwick told the young man. "If you still want to, you can sing after the French do their encore."
"You're sure about this, Mercutio?" Romeo asked his lifelong friend.
"Ay. I am sure." His voice was no louder than a whisper, but he could still be heard. "I am certain of this. I want to do my father's memory justice, after I forgot about him for so long..."
"'Twas not thy fault," Hal took a hold of his arm. "Never forget that. You were a boy, and you were ill with amnesia and PTSD."
"I know," Mercutio turned to face him. "I know, Hal, and I thank thee for thy concerns." He turned back to face Warwick, and nodded his head, face set with determination and grim with sadness. "I will do this. For my father's memory."
"He would have been proud of you. You are a good son to him." Hal's voice was wavered with empathy, for he too was fatherless. "I wish I could have been such a son to my father..."
"Dost thou not see? That thou art such a son?" Mercutio gave him a small, sad smile. "I see it in thee: everyday thou reigns, I will continue to see such a son. King Henry V of Lancaster-" he backed away from him and bowed to him. "I am proud to serve thee as thy friend."
Hal pulled him up to his full height. "Nay, none of that," he told him. "We are equals, you and I. Princes. Knights-" he cracked a reminiscent smile at the memory of their boyish pacts. "We will live and die together as comrades, as brothers. Everyone of you," he turned to face the Gang as they sat around in the lounge, "is my brother. My sister. Except for my beloved wife, of course," and he cracked a laugh from the others. "Together, united, we are an unstoppable force. Together, nothing can stop us. Together, as one. Together, as the Gang!"
Mercutio smiled, and it was the first genuine smile that he had cracked since his world had unravelled around him. He took a hold of Hal's hand tightly, and held their joined hands together in the air. "Together!" he cried, and he laughed heartily when the voices of his comrades echoed suite.