A/N: Here's the final chapter of the story. I hope you've enjoyed the story so far and that you'll enjoy the conclusion as well.

Chapter Twelve

It was as if the weather shared in the collective grief that overshadowed the herd. The sky was gray and cloudy for days after Romeo's death. The wind blew fiercely, whistling through the trees like a terrible wail of misery. Rain fell like endless tears from the heavens, and the sky rumbled with sobs of thunder.

The day after the fatal fight, Capulet found Montague standing in his usual corner of the clearing, his eyes fixed on nothing, rain mingling with the tears streaking his cheeks. There was silence for a long moment. Capulet was hesitant to announce himself, unsure of how exactly to proceed. He opened his mouth, closed it again, then took a deep breath and said softly, "Montague?"

The palomino stallion blinked and looked around at him. There was a tense moment in which the two horses just stared at each other. Capulet could see a swirl of conflicting emotions swirling in his old foe's eyes: rage, grief, hopelessness, confusion, all jumbled together in a nameless mass that made Capulet's heart ache.

Then the moment passed, and Montague looked away again. "What do you want?" he said tonelessly.

Capulet pawed the ground nervously. "To say…say that…I'm sorry, Montague."

Montague turned his head again to the other horse, surprise flickering in his gaze. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Capulet repeated. "I…I've done a lot of thinking lately. Thinking about…well, us. About what we once were and what we've become. And I've realized something, something I've tried to deny for far too long." He took another breath and plunged on, "This is all my fault. Everything that's happened between us, it's my fault. I should never have treated you with such hatred. I should have forgiven you and moved on with my life. Instead I held onto my anger, let it grow until it destroyed us. It's because I couldn't forgive that my daughter was afraid to talk to me of her love for…for Romeo." Capulet glanced nervously at Montague as he mentioned the dead horse, but apart from a slight wince, Montague barely reacted to the sound of his son's name. "If she'd been able to speak openly with me, then none of what followed would have ever happened, and he would still be here. So…I guess what I'm trying to say…is…I'm sorry, Montague. It's my fault that Romeo's dead, and I'm so sorry. Whatever our pasts, I never wanted you to suffer as you do now. Please…" He bowed his head toward the silent palomino. "…please forgive me, Montague. Forgive me for everything I ever did to you."

There was a long, uncomfortable silence. Montague stared at Capulet for several seconds, his face unreadable. Capulet waited worriedly as his old enemy pondered his response, hoping against hope that he would be forgiven.

Then Montague surprised him. He smiled. "You're not the only one to blame, Capulet," he murmured. "After all, you had every right to be angry at me. I should have been open to you from the start about my feelings for Livia, and I still blame myself for her death. So you're not alone in the guilt." He sighed. "Capulet, I forgive you. And I would be forever grateful if you would forgive me as well for the pain I caused you."

"Yes," Capulet said at once. "Yes, Montague. I forgive you." He reached out and touched the other stallion's shoulder. Montague closed his eyes and tears threatened to fall, but he smiled all the same. "Thank you, my friend. Thank you so much. If…if there's anything I can do, any way I can help you, don't hesitate to ask, all right?"

Montague nodded but didn't speak. He looked as though he wasn't capable of saying a word. Capulet drew back and turned away, feeling as though a great weight had been lifted from his back.

"Capulet?"

He stopped and turned to face Montague again. The palomino hesitated for a second or two. Then he said, "Would you please tell Juliet that I'm sorry? I do not blame her for Romeo's death. I know she loved him, and…and I'm glad that he was happy with her."

Capulet inclined his head. "I will."

"Thank you…my friend."

Capulet smiled weakly and then returned to his own corner of the clearing, where he found Juliet reclining on the ground, exactly where he'd left her a few minutes before.

Juliet had returned to the herd, but she was changed. She no longer smiled or laughed or even spoke. She remained silent at all times, gazing off into space and refusing to meet anyone's eye for longer than a second, just long enough for everyone to see just how broken the poor mare was. It was as if life had deserted her, leaving behind a body that still functioned but had no soul. It frightened Capulet to see his daughter in such a state.

"Juliet," he said, but the young mare didn't even flick an ear toward him to acknowledge she'd heard. "I've just spoken to Montague, and we have reconciled our differences. We are enemies no longer. I know it's come far later than it should have, but…well, I…I thought you'd like to know."

Juliet made no response. Capulet bit his lip worriedly before speaking again, taking great efforts to not let his voice shake. "Also, Montague asked me to tell you that…he doesn't blame you for Romeo's death. He says that he knows you two loved each other very much, and he's glad you were able to make his son happy."

At this, Juliet turned her head and looked up at her father with her dull, lifeless eyes. They were glistening with unshed tears. There was a pregnant pause.

Then Capulet burst out, "Juliet, I'm so sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for forcing you into a match you didn't want. I'm sorry for saying those terrible things to you and for being so angry with you for following your heart. And I'm sorry, so sorry that my hatred for Montague destroyed your happiness. I'm sorry for all of it. Juliet, my daughter, I love you, and…and I hope to Equus that you can forgive me for causing you so much pain."

Juliet said nothing but continued to gaze up at him in silence for several seconds. Then she dropped her chin just slightly. It was the barest of movements, but Capulet understood what it meant. He smiled in relief and reached out to nuzzle her. "Thank you, Juliet," he murmured. "Thank you so much."

But Capulet's relief would not last long, for before the day was out Tybalt's fever had infected the herd.

Prince was the first to show signs of being ill. He started to cough as Tybalt and Romeo had, a terrible hacking cough that made his sides heave. Others soon followed him, and before long the entire herd was sick.

The single mercy was that the fever was relatively minor. Most of the horses recovered in a few days. Those in the most danger were the foals and the elderly, who were less prepared to fight off the disease, yet even though a couple of foals teetered on the brink of death, none of them succumbed and they were soon well again.

But Juliet only got worse.

As her father, mother, and friends improved steadily, her condition continued to deteriorate. Her cough became so intense that it hurt, and soon she was having trouble breathing. She lay flat on the ground, her side rising and falling shakily as she struggled to draw in a complete breath, her nostrils flared as they strained to find air. For three days she hovered in this state between life and death, getting slowly sicker as the hours wore on. Capulet, who never left her side for a moment, thought he knew the reason. Juliet had simply lost the will to live. Her broken heart had left her unable and unwilling to fight off the infection, which inevitably consumed her.

On the third day of this in-between state, Juliet opened her eyes and looked up at Capulet. For a moment he wondered if she actually saw him, or if she was gazing at something only she could see. Then she gasped, "F-Father…"

"Juliet?" Capulet leaned forward, nuzzling his daughter's hot cheek. "What is it, sweetheart?"

Juliet didn't answer. She merely smiled, her gaze slightly unfocused. Beside her mate, Lady sobbed quietly, her muzzle pressed to Juliet's neck.

Then Juliet hissed out one last word with her final breath: "Romeo…" And her body went limp, her head falling to the ground and her eyes closing. She was dead.

…

Rosaline, tears running down her cheeks, trudged over to where Benvolio lay resting beside his father. Prince looked up at her approach, ears tilted questioningly. "Juliet is dead," she said quietly, her voice trembling. "She just passed away a few minutes ago."

Prince's jaw tightened, his tail drooping sadly, but he said nothing, for at that moment Benvolio tried to sit up. "Juliet is…" he began, but his next words were consumed by a coughing fit, and he fell back to earth with a groan. Rosaline felt her heart miss a beat.

"He's worse," Prince said to her, sounding worried. "I thought he was recovering, but he took a turn overnight." He bent his neck to nuzzle his son. Benvolio moaned quietly, eyes closed in a grimace of pain. "Please, son," Prince murmured, "please don't leave me. I can't lose you, not after everything that's happened. Benvolio…oh my poor son…please fight it, son, please…"

Benvolio coughed again and gazed up at the frantic horse. "Father," he croaked, and Prince's ears swiveled forward to catch every word, "I…I'm sorry for what I said after you banished Romeo. I know…leading a herd is difficult, and you…you have to make hard choices. It wasn't fair for me to talk to you the way I did."

Prince tossed his mane. "Don't worry about that right now, son. I understand." He let out a short, shaky, humorless laugh. "There were probably better ways I could have handled the situation, but I can't go back and undo what's been done." He sighed. "I'm sorry…I feel like such a failure, as a father, a leader…I don't know where I went wrong…"

"You're…a great leader," Benvolio protested, smiling weakly. "And a pretty great father, too."

Prince's eyes swam with tears, which he blinked back. "Thank you, Benvolio," he said. "I love you, my son."

"I love you too, Father." Benvolio replied, and with that he closed his eyes, his breathing deep and uneven.

Prince gazed fondly down at him for several moments before looking over at the other side of the clearing. "I must go speak with Capulet, try to comfort him," he said. "Rosaline, would you please stay with Benvolio? I won't be long. If he gets worse, please get me immediately."

Rosaline agreed, and soon she was alone with the sick colt. He opened his eyes and smiled up at her. She tried to return the smile but didn't manage it so well.

"So Juliet is dead?"

Rosaline flicked an ear in affirmation, head bowed sadly. Benvolio nickered with sympathy. "I'm…I'm so sorry, Rosaline. I know you two were…very close."

"She was my best friend." She sniffed and blinked away her tears. "But let's not talk about that right now. At the moment, all I'm worried about is you. You've got to focus on getting better, okay?"

Benvolio didn't answer but instead started coughing again. Reaching out to touch his neck comfortingly, Rosaline noticed that his flesh was burning with the fever. The heat alarmed her. Prince was right: he was much worse, dangerously worse…

"Rosaline," Benvolio said suddenly, and his voice was so intense that Rosaline lifted both ears alertly. "I…I want you to know…" He laughed shakily. "This isn't exactly how I intended to tell you, but I'm not sure I'm going to have another chance. And I don't want to leave this world without letting you know…"

Rosaline's heart missed a beat. "Don't talk like that," she said. "Benvolio, you're going to be all right. You have to be. Your father needs you to be all right. And…and I do too. Please, Benvolio, don't give up."

Benvolio coughed again, and now his vision was starting to fade, a black border rimming Rosaline's beautiful face. He was just so tired…if he could only sleep…but would he wake up again?

"Rosaline…I love you."

The mare inhaled sharply, eyes widening in surprise. Benvolio was smiling and gazing at her with a tenderness that seemed both strange yet somehow familiar. Where had she seen it before?

Then she remembered: it was the same look she'd seen in Romeo's eyes when he was with Juliet.

Rosaline felt her heart thump heavily in her chest, pumping her full of warmth, and a true smile spread across her face for the first time since the day Romeo had died. "Oh Benvolio," she sighed. "I love you too." She reached out and affectionately pressed her muzzle to his, so happy for a single moment that she almost forgot the terrible events that had driven them all to misery.

Then Benvolio's head fell away, hitting the ground with a soft thud, and Rosaline's heart came crashing back down to earth. "Benvolio?" she gasped. He didn't respond. His eyes were closed, and he was barely breathing. "Benvolio!"

But Benvolio could no longer hear her.

…

When he opened his eyes, Benvolio had to blink several times to make sure he wasn't imagining things. He was surrounded on all sides by an endless expanse of white stretching out in every direction. He couldn't even tell where the ground ended and the sky began because everything looked exactly the same.

Once he was certain that he wasn't imagining this strange environment, he stood up and shook himself, even though there was no loose dirt or grass to loosen from his coat. He breathed deeply, trying to pick up a familiar scent, but the world seemed to have lost all its odors. Not only that, but the act of inhaling didn't trigger a massive coughing fit. His body didn't feel feverish anymore, either. It was as though his sickness was totally gone.

Where am I? he thought, looking around. His brain seemed to be working at half-speed. A world of endless white. No familiar sights and sounds. His body healed. Totally alone.

Am I…dead? he wondered.

"Hello?" he called, and his voice echoed in the silent stretch of nothingness. "Is anyone there? Hello?"

A whinny caught his attention, and he whirled around, his heart jumping into his throat. He wasn't as alone as he'd first thought. Some distance away, far enough that he would have had to raise his voice to speak with them, were two other horses. Benvolio blinked and squinted, trying to make out their features. They seemed oddly familiar to him, though with his mind still not quite fully working, he couldn't place them. One horse, a blue roan stallion, was standing motionlessly, watching with a broad smile on his face as the other, a red mare, galloped toward him as fast as her legs could carry her. The mare all but collided with the stallion, pressing herself to him and burying her face in his shoulder. The stallion rested his head over her neck, holding her close and nickering quietly to her, saying things that Benvolio couldn't hear. The mare seemed to be crying, her body shaking with sobs, and he wondered why she should be so sad. He also wondered why, if she was grieving so badly that tears ran down her face, she was smiling so broadly…

Unless those were tears of joy she was crying…

And then it hit him. He suddenly understood what he was witnessing, and he realized why the two horses seemed so familiar.

Juliet drew back far enough to look into Romeo's eyes, speaking what were undoubtedly words of deepest love to her mate, and Romeo murmured something in reply, touching his muzzle to hers affectionately. They were reunited at last, and nothing would ever come between them again.

Feeling his heart leap with joy at the sight, het let loose a shrill whinny of greeting. Romeo and Juliet both turned their heads toward him and returned the salutation, their shrill cries echoing in the silent whiteness of this strange world.

And then another voice joined theirs. Only this voice was sad and broken with what sounded like moans of grief. Benvolio's ears swiveled around to catch the noise and then turned around to see its source. His heart slipped several notches. The span of nothingness he'd woken in was no longer empty. A gray Appaloosa mare reclined on the ground a few feet away, leaning over the body of a paint colt, her tears splashing on the horse's face and neck. She too was speaking words that Benvolio couldn't hear, but these were obviously not the joyful tidings shared by Romeo and Juliet. These were pleas, desperate appeals to the lifeless form to revive…

Recognition struck Benvolio again, but this time it made his heart break. The mare was Rosaline, and the body beside her was…

It's me! he realized with an unpleasant shock. That's my body! Oh no…then I really am dead!

He turned again to gaze at Romeo and Juliet, who were watching him silently. Were they waiting for him to join them? Where would they go then? What lay beyond life?

He suddenly realized he wasn't ready to find out.

He took a step backward, toward Rosaline and his own body, and this single gesture seemed to answer the unasked question that hung in the air. Romeo and Juliet inclined their heads in understanding and turned away from him, walking into the great white expanse that served as the passageway to whatever realm waited for them, a new world free of pain and heartache, a world where Romeo and Juliet would be free to love each other for all time. Benvolio smiled and whinnied one last time in farewell. The lovers paused to look back at him, and they both reared up, calling a final good-bye to him. Then they resumed their walk into nothingness and disappeared into the white horizon.

Benvolio smiled to himself for a moment as he watched his old friends vanish into eternal joy. Then he turned around again, facing the mare he loved, and took a step in her direction…

…

Benvolio stirred, and Rosaline gasped as his eyes fluttered open. "Benvolio?!" she cried, her voice breaking. "Oh my gosh, Benvolio, thank Equus! I thought you…I thought you were…" She couldn't complete the sentence.

Benvolio smiled weakly. "Nah," he mumbled, "just taking a little nap, that's all."

Rosaline laughed shakily and leaned down to nuzzle his cheek. Feeling the temperature of his skin, she said, "Your fever seems to have broken. I think you're going to be okay."

"Of course I am," Benvolio replied, raising his head a little so that he could look at her more fully. "It'll take more than a little cough to take me out."

As Rosaline rolled her eyes and shook her head, her smile still fixed in place, Benvolio took a look around. The day had cleared: the sun was shining and the grass waving slightly in the pleasant breeze. Beside Rosaline, his father Prince stood with his knees locked, sleeping lightly.

"How long was I asleep?" Benvolio asked. He distinctly remembered the sky being overcast and the ground wet with rain when he passed out.

Rosaline's smile slipped a little. "Two days," she replied, and Benvolio's ears flicked in surprise. "We were all so worried that you'd never wake up again." Her eyes were glistening with unshed tears at the very thought.

Benvolio nickered quietly and reached up to press his muzzle to her cheek. "Please don't cry, my love," he murmured. "I'm all right now. The worst is over."

Rosaline sighed and leaned into his touch. Then she drew back, turning to her leader and saying loudly, "Prince, wake up. Benvolio's awake."

Prince snorted and jolted, immediately alert, his eyes darting first to Rosaline and then down to his son. They widened in surprise and joy. "Benvolio!" he cried, stepping forward to touch the colt's shoulder. "Oh thank heavens! I was so worried…"

Benvolio huffed quietly. "I know. I'm sorry for putting you through that. But I'm feeling much better now."

He rocked forward and rose unsteadily to his feet, feeling his legs shake as they took his weight for the first time in two days. Rosaline and Prince stood on either side of him, ready to catch him in case he started to fall, but they needn't have worried. Apart from a faint cough or two, the last remnants of the fever that had very nearly killed him, he was just fine. He smiled at both of them fondly and then bent his neck so that he could graze. The grass was so vibrantly green that it made him hungry just to look at it…

The thought of color made him freeze, and his thoughts shifted to the dream he'd had while he'd been unconscious. Only he wasn't even sure "dream" was the right word to use. What exactly had that been? A vision? Or had he actually been there in that weird unreality between life and death, teetering on the brink between the world he knew and the one that lay beyond?

Had he really seen Romeo and Juliet again? Had he witnessed their reunion as they joyfully moved on to the next life, life without end, without hardship or suffering or heartbreak?

Then he smiled. In the end, he realized, it didn't matter what he'd witnessed, whether it had been a dream or not. What mattered was that Romeo and Juliet were together at last, and they would never be torn apart again.

And as for him…he looked to his left, where his father stood watching him carefully, and then to his right, where Rosaline gazed at him with unguarded affection in her eyes. He felt his heart swell at the sight of them. He pressed his muzzle to Rosaline's, nickering wordless promises of love to her, and she closed her eyes, smiling joyously.

Around them, the other horses grazed contentedly. Foals played games and ran about the clearing while their mothers watched on. Birds sang and flew from tree to tree, and a faint breeze stirred the warm morning air. Benvolio breathed deeply and sighed, delighting in the familiar scents of the world, and he smiled knowingly at Rosaline. She smiled back, perhaps a little confused at his newfound sense of joy but no less happy to be with him.

Grief would come, he knew. The next few weeks would be sad for everyone. Montague, Capulet, and Lady were all mourning the loss of their children, and he knew the herd would never quite be the same.

But all that could wait for now. For in this moment, this single stretch of eternity, everything was perfect.

A/N: The End!

So it's a bittersweet ending for these horses. Romeo and Juliet are gone, but they are reunited at last. And Benvolio and Rosaline have a promising future lying ahead of them. So hopefully I haven't totally ruined Valentine's Day for you by depressing you…

Thank you so much for reading this story! Please leave a review and tell me what you thought of it. I am open to critiques and suggestions as long as it's constructive, and any tips to help improve the book for publication are much appreciated.