Welcome to Chapter Thirteen! Be prepared for a loooooooooooong chapter.
Some of you may recall an annoyingly dramatic author's note in place of chapter twelve that said I would probably not be continuing this story. Well, it was a dream. Probably something you ate. I'm continuing, all right.
DISCLAIMER - Check the other chapters. Nothing has changed, I promise.
Thanks to all who have read, reviewed and enjoyed so far!
Please enjoy this! And of course, please review.
Happy spring holidays!
...
That fog of euphoria did not leave the two of them for the next couple of weeks. All in Verona, except the Capulets, no longer referred to Mercutio as 'Mercutio' or Allegra as 'Allegra'. They were both 'Mercutio and Allegra', and they were always together. They were a fiery match, always flirting and making jokes, and they could make everybody smile without even trying. It did not look as though the two of them would ever break apart.
A heat wave broke out in Italy. On the first day it was introduced to Verona, Mercutio had just returned home from spending time with Benvolio and a few other friends in the plaza. Allegra had told him earlier she was needed at home to do schoolwork, and although he had already seen her that day, he felt a black hole in his insides throbbing at his heart, where she was meant to be. The day before this had gone the same way. He had been delirious with the thought of her and could not sleep, for he was fully energized. He had not eaten, either, and though his friends had tried to force feed him, he decided nothing would touch his mouth but Allegra. Now, he got that familiar feeling of his emotions screaming out for Allegra, and decided he had to see her.
Just as he was about to open the door, a chubby hand turned him around by the shoulder.
"Well, good morrow, Bruna!" Mercutio said, covering his disappointment with a huge pretend grin. "I knew not thou wert here! Lovely day, is it not? Fare thee well, Bruna!"
Bruna knew him far too well. She took his arm as he was about to run away. "Why, do not try to hide it, Master Mercutio! I have been around for some time in this city." She jokingly nudged him. "I know Verona's charm hath captured thee! How is thy dear one?"
"I know not," Mercutio said, smiling sadly. "I have not spoken to her in over four hours."
"Ah, I feared so," Bruna said. "I heard thy stomach crying out from the floor above this. I do not deny that thy little mistress is good for thee, but she hath fed thee with her love and taken thy stomach for food. Thou art peaky with lovesickness, and I shall see thou dost not waste away with thy wandering dreams of the little mistress."
"Ah, I should have known," Mercutio said, and Bruna laughed. "You and your fear of our starving. I am going to see Allegra now, and she shall not mind if my stomach growls a bit."
"Does she expect thee?" Bruna asked.
"Nay, I shall surprise her."
"Then thou must eat now," Bruna insisted.
"Bruna," Mercutio said, feigning a whining child.
"Nay, Master Mercutio! Thou hast only nineteen years and I still love to care for thee!" She pinched his cheek, and he pushed her off playfully. "No maiden likes a frail suitor. Now come with me to the kitchen or I shall pull thee by the ear."
"You are like Romeo's mother," Mercutio said as he followed her.
Bruna giggled. "I am far worse, I assure thee! But what wouldst thou do without me?"
"I can only imagine it," Mercutio said.
They entered the kitchen and Bruna gave Mercutio a few pastries, which she was glad to see him eating. Mercutio knew Bruna loved him and Valentine like sons, and he loved her as much or more than his mother. She knew Mercutio had a reputation, and yet still found great joy in mothering him. Mercutio had hated it all his life, but, as his parents were so busy, a part of him needed it. He knew this.
Valentine soon stumbled into the kitchen. "Mercutio! I've looked everywhere for you! What are you doing in here?"
"Digesting," Mercutio said, leaning against the wall and rubbing his stomach.
"Wha? Uh - Bruna?" said Valentine.
"Master Valentine, thy brother was half-starved. I did him a favor," said Bruna in an I'm-the-boss tone.
Valentine looked Mercutio up and down, then shook his head. "No matter. Bruna, pray let me speak to my brother alone?" He looked wary of the eavesdropping servants that worked in the kitchen. "In the hall?
Bruna nodded. "Very well." She kissed Mercutio's cheek and the two gentlemen left her.
"So, brother, what must you tell me?" Mercutio asked. "Have I missed anything while inside? Hath Rome fallen?"
Valentine scratched at his curly head. "I was asked by one of your friends to tell you good evening."
On the word 'friends', Mercutio flashed a mischievous smile. "Were you? And what friend might this be? Fair hair, bright eyes? A close friend, perhaps?" He batted his eyelashes dramatically, and sat on a windowsill as he and Valentine entered the front room.
"Nay, sorry, brother. 'Twas not Allegra," Valentine said.
"Ay, so I thought. She'd have come here if she were out." He laid down on the windowsill. "'Twas a gentleman, then?"
"Well, do you know any other ladies?" Valentine teased, and Mercutio prodded him with his boot. "'Twas Tybalt."
"Ah, so 'twas a lady, then," Mercutio said, sitting up.
"Ay, brother," Valentine said, his face wrinkled with worry, "and not your admirer. He doth desire a good fight with you. I told him you were not in. You shall not do it to-night, shall you?"
"Nothing would give me more pleasure."
Valentine had always had an open fear of his brother getting hurt, and as Mercutio was so risky, Mercutio understood why. He read his brother's face.
"But alas, I fear mine hands are too weak and my belly too full to take on the King of Fleas to-night." Mercutio waggled his eyebrows. "And, a certain maid shall wait for me by the river in an hour's time. I shall do her -" he paused "- the honor of meeting her there."
Valentine chortled, and then his face turned tranquil. "Lucky man, I must admit. You have taken her heart and shall hug it close forever."
Mercutio waved his hands. "Yeech. Valentine! I've a toothache. Too sweet. 'Tis a deeper thing than that. Deep thoughts, brother, deep thoughts." He jumped up, did a cartwheel and sat in a chair, and all the time, Valentine spoke to him.
"Ay, deep thoughts, but how do you manage them? Mercutio, I am not one to seek advice on a woman, but I find there are so many on top of me that I know not which one to choose and how to do it!" He was quite out of breath after he was done spilling this out.
Mercutio put his arm around his brother. "Valentine, lad, choose whichever maiden that doth give you that feeling of raising spirit - and I mean this in the most solemn of ways. Maidens are not candy to anything but the eyes. At first you may wish to take them all, but you shall find in time you want only a certain one."
Valentine rolled his eyes. "You are sick with it, brother."
"Oh, ay. As a dog. But I do not jest." He flopped himself onto a sofa, enjoying a little picture in his mind of her asleep on the couch next to him.
Valentine was eyeing his brother with a bewildered grin when Bruna shuffled her way in with a few other maids to dust things.
"So," Valentine asked Mercutio, "have you chosen the time to ask her yet?"
"Why, ask her what?" Mercutio asked.
"Why, to marry you, of course!" Valentine said brightly.
Mercutio's face turned rather white. He stood up, rubbing at the back of his head. "Ask her what?"
"To marry you!" Valentine repeated. "When shall you?"
Mercutio began to act a bit strange. He lightly kicked the sofa a few times, and knocked his fists together. He mumbled an answer at one point, and it sounded quite like "when hell freezeth over", but he did not say it out loud.
Valentine poked him. "Aren't you well?"
"Huh? Ay. Very well." Mercutio's expression was so puzzled that Valentine actually laughed out loud.
"Why, what dost thou laugh at, Master Valentine?" asked Bruna, lowering her feather duster onto a shelf.
"Nothing, Bruna!" Mercutio answered, frowning at Valentine.
"Someone is afraid of something called 'marriage'," Valentine crooned, batting his eyelashes as his brother had before.
Bruna heard nothing but 'marriage'. She squealed and hugged Mercutio until his white face turned blue and Valentine had to pull him away from Bruna.
"Nay, Bruna, nay," Valentine said. "He is not going to be married. He is afraid of marriage."
"Oh," said Bruna, her shoulders falling in disappointment. "But why dost thou fear such a wondrous thing as marriage, Master Mercutio? 'Tis a joyous thing!"
"Right," said Mercutio through a false cough.
"I do not understand," said Valentine. "He doth love her, and yet he doth not wish to marry her?"
"He shall find he doth," Bruna said. "Fret not, Master Mercutio! Thy brother and I shall convince you the pleasures of marriage."
Mercutio bit his lip. Then he laughed in a nervous sort of way and tried to speak again, but his speech was lost when he backed up into one of the maids. She screamed, and the vase she had been dusting fell and shattered. Mercutio gave her an awkward salute that served for an apology. Only Bruna's serious face kept Valentine from rolling on the floor laughing.
"Hmm," Bruna said, hands on her hips. "Well, Master Valentine, this may need a bit of time to convince. Where shall we begin?"
But Mercutio was already out the door and halfway down the street, dodging passers-by and vendors, running away from the thought of marriage.
. . . . . . . . .
The heat wave pressed on for the next few days. Mercutio tried his hardest to forget what Bruna and Valentine had said to him, but the memory grew bigger every time he ignored it. Little did he know Allegra would soon have the same feelings.
One blazing night at the house of Tancredo Capulet, the family had just sat down to dinner. He and his wife and sons had not seen young Allegra all day before this. From what Celestine had raved to him, he understood the girl had been out and about in Verona all day, as she had been for the past week. Apparently, she'd found a companion in some mysterious gentleman who she claimed she was in love with. He could believe that. Allegra popped in and out of the house once in awhile, and her eyes were always sparkling, and she was laughing as though she had had too much wine. It was very annoying to have in the house, and did nothing but distract him. After all, there were the Montagues to worry about.
"Tell me, Theobald," said Tancredo after they had finished thanking, "my brother has told me 'twas thyself and thy friend Petruchio who defeated Lord Montague's cousin in combat to-day. Have I the right to be proud of thee for this?"
"Yes, Father, you do," said Theobald. ""Twas some little brat on the street who challenged us straight away when he recognized me. He regretted it sorely."
Tancredo straightened up a bit in his chair. "My eldest son, thou art worthy of the name Capulet."
"Ay," Theobald said, giving his father a proud salute.
"Ricardo, cher, 'ave you something to say to zis?" Celestine asked Ricardo, who had been cut off time and time again by his father and brother.
"Ay, Mother, thank thee," Ricardo said. "I saw Lord Montague's son Romeo on the street today, a step too near Capulet territory, and I found myself wondering, had his father sent him to spy?"
Tancredo's eyebrow climbed up his wrinkled forehead. "'Tis a fair question, though I have seen Romeo before. He is no man for spy work; he doth lack manhood more than any of his kinsmen." He paused as a servant refilled his wine glass. "Didst thou challenge him?"
"He was unarmed, Father," Ricardo said, looking down at the table in shame.
"Unarmed?"
"Well, he carried a small knife," Ricardo said. "Though 'twas too small for me to fight fairly."
"Son of mine, dost thou see that an excuse not to destroy this man?" Tancredo demanded. "Ricardo, boy, shouldst thou see this Romeo again with a small knife, do as I say now: take advantage of its size, and do it with power!"
Allegra, who had been smiling into her plate the entire time, burst into laughter upon hearing this. Allegra had had a mouthful of wine, and giggled so hard she began to choke. Ricardo hit her gently on the back and she swallowed it down, still in a fit of laughter.
"Allie," said Ricardo carefully as his sister pulled herself together, "are you not well?"
"Ay, Ricky," said Allegra. "I am well. Pardon me." She sat in her chair normally and prepared to eat again. She realized all eyes were still on her, and looked around. "Pardon me," she said again.
"Thou dost act strangely," said Tancredo, giving his daughter the evil eye.
"Stranger than usual," Theobald said into his wine glass.
"'usband, I 'ave told you, Allegra is in love," Celestine said.
"With whom?" Tancredo asked Allegra in a sharp tone.
Allegra's grin vanished. For the last couple of weeks, she had narrowly avoided telling her family who it was she loved. Now that Valentine was courting Consolata, having her mother think it was him was not an option. Now, Allegra had been put on the spot, and her family all stared at her with eager eyes, awaiting the truth. She could not lie to them!
"Valentine," Celestine answered.
"Nay!" said Allegra. She thought it best to get it out quickly. She took a deep breath, and blurted, "'TisValentine'sbrother."
"Speak like a lady," her father snapped.
"Yes, sir. 'Tis Valentine's brother."
"Who is Valentine?" Theobald asked. Ricardo shrugged. Allegra let out a quiet, relieved breath.
"A kins-mon of ze Prince," Celestine answered. "I met 'eem once at ze plaza and 'ee was a gentlemon to me. I knew not 'ee 'ad a brother."
"Is his brother a gentleman?" Tancredo inquired of Allegra.
"Yes, Father," said Allegra, trying to refrain from turning bright red and failing. "He is a very good man and he admires me very much."
Celestine sighed as though it was her in love, but Tancredo's gruff face did not soften at the sweet emotions of a love-struck maiden.
"I would meet him one day," he finally decided, "and he if he fails to impress me, I have another match for thee."
Allegra fidgeted a bit. "Who, Father?"
"Thy ever brave cousin, Tybalt," Tancredo said as though it were obvious. "He is not a blood relative, and thy children shall be - for goodness' sake, mouse, do not look as though I have stabbed thee!"
"'usband," said Celestine. "If I may say so, Tee-balt is a goodly gentle-mon, but I sink any kins-mon of ze Prince shall be a good match for Allegra. Our niece Juliet eez going to wed Paris, no? 'Tis a good idea for -" Her voice came to an abrupt stop as her husband gave her a dirty look.
"Has thy 'beloved' asked thee yet?" Tancredo asked.
Allegra ignored her father's mocking tone. "Why, asked what, Father?"
"Why, to marry thee, of course!" Tancredo cried.
Allegra bit her lip and thought fast. She had not thought of this. The word 'marriage' struck her like an earthquake. "He has not. I know not if he will."
Tancredo narrowed his eyes. "I would he ask thee to-night. Fourteen summers hast thou, and still thou lollygags round my house like the princess of Italy, throwing away all my well-earned finances every second, when thou sickens -"
"Daught-air, what your father means is zat with ze Montagues around, it will be safer if you were wed," Celestine said, "and under ze protection of a man who loves you."
I will surely never find protection here, Allegra thought, hiding her anger as she picked at her food.
That night, Allegra could not sleep. The word 'marriage' appeared in her mind, written out in bold strokes of writing, every time she closed her eyes.
. . . . . . . . . . .
Soon the two of them realized they could no longer hide their feelings. They both silently decided this at the same time. It happened one afternoon when they had been walking together across the bridge in the middle of town Mercutio had been talking away his nerves, and while Allegra listened, she could tell he was as nervous as she was. Allegra stopped and stood on the side of the bridge's railing, looking at her reflection in the river. Mercutio's reflection appeared next to hers a moment later. She smiled.
"Allegra, have you ever thought about Venice?" Mercutio asked spontaneously.
"Well, nay, I have not, until now," said Allegra. "Why?"
Mercutio smiled widely. "My father brought me there years ago, and I have longed to return ever since, but he hath not been called back and he hath not thought of going. Now I am nineteen and he shall not mind if I travel alone." He took a deep breath. "Want to go?"
"Slow down, pray!" Allegra giggled. "When shall we go? I must ask mine parents first."
Mercutio's happy, eager face turned suddenly pensive. He held out his hand and helped Allegra down from the bridge's railing.
"You are disturbed, pretty one," Mercutio said, for Allegra was looking at her feet as they walked across the bridge and through the street.
"I am," Allegra admitted, though being called 'pretty one' eased her pain a great deal. "Two nights ago, my father ... well... he told me he wished for me to marry Tybalt, but my mother told him I loved Valentine, but I told them I was in love with Valentine's elder brother, and mine brothers know not that you are Valentine's brother so 'tis not a problem, but then my father said he doth want me out of the house and that I should marry."
Mercutio had skidded to a stop. There were so many things wrong with what she had just said that Mercutio thought he might faint. "Tybal - Valenti - wait, wait, wait, let us... say again?"
"Very well," said Allegra, biting her tongue to settle her nerves. "My father said he wished for me to marry Tybalt -"
"What did you say?"
"- then my mother said I loved someone else," Allegra said.
"Viva la France," Mercutio said.
"But she still thought I loved your brother. So I said loved Valentine's elder brother, but that was all right because my brothers knoweth not who Valentine is. But then my father asked me if you had asked me to -"
Mercutio hated this. "Allegra, I am not the type to marry," he said quickly, and then let out an enormous breath as though he had just been underwater. The thought had been eating away at him for only a few days, but it had been killing him inside. He fell against the window of a shop, praying Allegra would not be angry at him for this.
She was just as relieved as he was.
"Nor am I." She shuffled down the street, waiting for him to follow.
For a moment, Mercutio feared she was leaving him, but then he let her words sink in. He followed the only blonde maiden on the street and turned her around with a gentle hand.
"Yeessss?" Allegra said,
"There is something very wrong with this," Mercutio said. "Every other man in the world would love to hear his lady say she doth wish to marry him, yet I have just heard my lady say she doth not wish to marry me and I am very happy to hear that."
"Marriage is two big a thing for us," Allegra said. She loved how he nodded as she spoke. "You are a free spirit. I want to be like you. I want to be with you, as well, but -"
"I like not the word 'marriage'," Mercutio said, wrinkling his nose. "I am tied down just at the very sound of it!"
"Me too!" Allegra said. She was about to go on, but Mercutio lifted her off the ground and carried her a few blocks. She laughed the entire way, and so did he. There was nothing as calming as wild spontaneity, as far as they both were concerned.
He finally put her down when they reached a street bench. Mercutio calmed Allegra's laughter by pointing to the river, which they had a perfect view of from there.
"See that, pretty one?"
"See what?"
"The sun on the river, how it doth sparkle. I see it in your eyeball. Nay, nay, do not laugh, really... 'tis there." He cocked his head. "Ay, right there. 'Tis nice. Very nice." He paused. "Venice is all sun and river. Unless it is dark, then 'tis moon and river, which I think is just as nice. Do not tell Abram I think so, I pray you."
Allegra shook her head. "Even if we are not married, may we still go to Venice one day?"
"Ay, we will. Never fear, we shall go one day. I care not what my friends will say, we shall go, and stay there for however long we wish... great place, Venice..." He went on, but Allegra heard his voice and not his words.
Allegra wanted to go more than anything. Nothing pleased her more than the thought of going with Mercutio, away from worry. She paused as this thought filled her mind and made her sigh aloud. The feeling of being with Mercutio in Venice, where no one would find them, where Tybalt would not challenge him, where her father would not ridicule her.
The words of her mother two nights ago rushed into her head. She realized only now, as she sat on the bench with her love, overlooking Adige, that her mother's words had been sitting with her for the past two days.
"'Twill be safer if you wed and were under the protection of a man who loveth you."
A man's protection was something Allegra was a stranger to. She had come to realize she did not need it. All those times she had been sick, she talked herself through it. She had not needed anyone's extra push, and she had never gotten the pleasure of having it. She had defended herself from the harsh words of her father.
"Mercutio?" she asked, interrupting Mercutio's pointless ramble.
"Ay, pretty one?" Mercutio gave her his warm smile.
Allegra blushed. "Would it be all right if I sleep on your shoulder for awhile?"
"You need never ask! It would be very all right."
Allegra did, and he put his arm around her.
And Allegra thought as she slept that all the security she would ever want was with her when she was safe in Mercutio's arms, and that she would always find a protector in Mercutio.