Welcome back again to "Mercutio and Allegra". I know I've posted a chapter every day in the last three days, and that's because whenever I breathe, I think of this story - and also because I happen to be a fast typer. I really wanted to get to chapter 11 done by the time it had been one month since I started this story, and that will be tomorrow!!!
Note: This chapter, I warn you, will be very, very, VERY … erm… romantic. Yeah, that's a good word. I was going to say something a little stronger, but let's go with that.
DICLAIMER - I own only Allegra and her first name in this chapter.
Pargoletta - Thank you as usual! Notice I replaced Chapter 10. I hadn't made it clear that Tybalt hadn't actually stabbed Mercutio, but actually twisted Mercutio's wrist - really, really hard - while he was busy looking at Allegra; I also hadn't been clear of the fact that Mercutio is left-handed. Oh, and you are ever so welcome about the "Caro" review. That is a truly brilliant story. Other readers, if you haven't yet, read Pargoletta's "Caro".
Anyway, as I believe I have said before: Reviews are very, very welcome.
Enjoy!
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Shoving past Tybalt and ignoring her cousin's dirty looks, Allegra dashed toward the back garden.
"Mercutio? Still here? Mercutio?"
He was there, indeed, but turned away. He held his broken wrist, massaging it with his right hand. Allegra sighed in relief and approached him. "Oh, you have not left!"
"Not yet," Mercutio said, still not facing her. She heard him breathe in agony.
"Ay me!" she cried, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Tybalt hit you, I saw it." Mercutio said nothing to this. "Are you not well?" Allegra asked.
"Nay!" he erupted suddenly, jerking away so her hand was forced away. "Do not touch me!"
Those words hit Allegra like a stone to her heart. She had done something to anger him.
"Mercutio," she began, hurt, but Mercutio had already begun to rave.
"'Twas a SIN! I was on top of him, he'd called Abram a beggar! 'Twas revolting! Tybalt wad down! I was bloodthirsty!" By now Mercutio was punching an imaginary Tybalt. "I could have swallowed him whole! 'Twas delectable!" He turned to Allegra and gave her a beastly look. "And you broke it."
Allegra did not know where to begin. This was not how she ever thought he would speak to her. This was how her father or Theobald or Tybalt spoke to her. She could have cried, for that's what most girls she knew would be likely to do, but she ignored her breaking heart and gathered her thoughts of dignity.
"It seemed Tybalt was going to swallow you," she said.
Mercutio kicked the dirt in the ground. "He might as well have swallowed me!"
"Well, he would have had I not stopped him! Look at your wrist!" Allegra pointed, and Mercutio put his other hand over it, as if shielding it from her.
"Allegra, there are thing more painful than injuries!" he spat, stomping away to the river.
"What? Ugh! This was not pain!" Allegra cried, following him.
"Thou knoewst not what sort of pain that was!"
"Humiliation and shame!" Allegra yelled. "Thy pride is weak!"
"Why the devil dost thou act as though 'twas thyself hurt?"
"'Twas no fault of mine! It frightened me!" Her voice cracked.
She turned away before she saw him reply. She wished she had not let that slip out. He was being stupidly prideful, and she was not about to play the good little princess who was supposed to depend on her prince's pride.
"Frightened?" he said after letting her words sink in. Allegra did not let herself soften when she heard the sympathy building in his voice.
"Didst thou expect me," she said, "to be calm whilst I see thee nearly die? I would not keep quiet." She turned back to him, her arms crossed. "I could not."
Mercutio sighed, and rubbed at the back of his neck with his good hand. "I could not expect you to," he said, though he was not proud to say it. "Listen, 'twas not my intention to frighten you. I wished something different."
She knew without his admitting it. "You need not strive to impress me," she said, then added, "you do it all on your own."
"Say not that," said Mercutio, slowly filling with guilt. "I am a goat."
Allegra knew he was no longer angry with her, but left him standing there and walked toward the garden, kicking a stone as she went. She heard him kicking another stone, and when he kicked it her way, she kicked it back. She still, though, did not look at him.
"I see your color hath not yet come back," said Mercutio in the same tone that was heavy with ruefulness.
He took her hand in his. "'Tis not a warm night. I cannot have you sicken ago.
"Mercutio, let me go!" Allegra yelled, drawing back. Mercutio's jaw dropped. "I am not fragile!"
Mercutio did not know whether to be hurt or angry. He groaned. "Allegra, what in hell doth make you say that?"
"'Tis true!" Allegra said, her fists clenched. "I am not made of glass, so do not treat me so!"
"Have I said you were?" Mercutio demanded.
"Nay, though thou thinkest I am! So doth mine brothers, so doth mine parents, so doth mine cousins, so doth everybody, and so dost thou, of all people in the world!"
She paced up and down the garden as she shouted this, and then spoke a good six sentences in French before Mercutio decided he could not handle it and tried to calm her down.
"Allegra! Allegra, pray you, do not pace like so! Talk to me, Allegra! Look at me!"
"Quelle?*" She turned an angry face toward him.
"I am not your family. You are not your family." He used each word with equal emphasis**. "Everything we are saying, Allegra, is preposterous. You are not fragile."
Allegra put her hands on her temples, as if to keep her head from blowing up. "I know!" she choked.
"Then why do we argue?"
"I know not!" Allegra yelled.
"Then why do we speak?"
"Thou art the only one who still doth speak!"
"Gah!"
"Gah!"
They both groaned and turned away from each other. Mercutio had not wanted to frighten Allegra, and now, she spoke to him of not being fragile - where had that even come from? And why did Mercutio not understand? Was he not supposed to love her? She did not look at him, and he did not look at her.
But hard as they tried, they could not hold onto pride forever.
Eventually, after they both realized night had fully fallen while they had been yelling at each other, Allegra mumbled, still turned away.
"Say that again?" Mercutio snipped. He heard Allegra turn around.
"We sound rather like mine parents," Allegra said.
Mercutio could not stop himself. He looked down at her. As it had on the night he had first seen her, her ivory skin lit up the night.
"Pathetic," he said.
"Ay," she said.
The gaze they shared with one another sent them both a clear message. They could not stay mad at each other forever. Without breathing, the two of them clung onto one another and shared the longest, most fiery kiss they had ever given one another.
When they finally broke apart, they had fallen on the ground, still on top of one another. Every time they stopped for breath, they kissed again, until they ran out and fell onto their backs, panting.
"For glass," said Mercutio in between gasps, "you are not very delicate."
"Thank you," Allegra said. She picked herself up. Mercutio got up as well, taking her hands and pulling her into a fond embrace.
She looked into his dancing sapphire eyes, and said, "Mercutio… you are a fool, as am I."
He caressed her. "Not you -"
"- yes, me," Allegra said. "You and I have just argued about pride. Foolish, foolish pride. We have just argued about the strength of me, and a fight with Tibby. You are right. Prepostrous." She laid her head on his chest and heard his heart beating. He wrapped his arms around her, warming her as she soothed him.
"No matter how often you sicken," he whispered, "or how you are treated by your family, I, at least, shall never think you are made of glass. Pretty enough to be. Mother of hell, you are pretty…but not fragile - "
"Hush, Mercutio."
She kissed him again, with such passion that for a moment she forget where she was, who she was, and all she thought of was this kiss, and the way he set off a bomb in her soul. She did not remember she was still on her family's land, and all her kinsmen were just inside. They could come out, she knew, at any time, and that eventually she would be sought out.
"'Tis dark," she said in between kisses. "My mother will be looking for me." She did not want to leave him. "Let her wait."
Mercutio went to caress her face. He did this with his left hand by accident, and then broke away from her to massage it.
"Ay me," breathed Allegra.
"Nay," Mercutio said. Allegra saw the bravery in his eyes. "The pain is leaving, I can feel it. Bruna will mend it with ease - do you tire?" he asked, as a wide yawn from Allegra had caught his complete attention.
"Very much so," said Allegra, smiling as she became aware of his pleasure.
He took a step toward her. "My home is not far from your's," he whispered. "I am sure no one in my home will mind if you stay there awhile …"
Allegra could not herself from kissing him again now. He returned the kiss with such enthusiasm he lifted her off the ground and twirled her until they fell into the flowers, laughing. The pain his wrist was gone forever; she had healed it for him. The night shone down on the two lovers, and the moon on Adige gave them light. There was no one to distract them or threaten them. It was only Mercutio for Allegra, and Allegra for Mercutio, in fair Verona that night of April the second, thirteen-hundred.
By the time they woke the next morning, the memory of the previous evening was lost in a fog of euphoria.
*"What?!?" (French)
** EMPHASIS!!!