Mercutio

Lavishly, they dressed. Rich costumes in most splendid colours. Glorious Venetian masks, each more intricate than the next. 'Twas the perfect stage for secret lovers to unite where all could gaze upon them.

Mercutio accompanied Romeo and Benvolio to the midst of merriment, only to vanish in the gathered crowd. Blue and purple garb transformed into iridescent white as his mask sensed its twin near. An angel doth descended on House Capulet.

"Blessed are mine eyes at thy sight."

Smiling, Mercutio turned. Faintest red remained as his lover's mask transformed his guise to pitch black.

"Is that the sultry voice of a prowling demon I hear?"

"A demon, you hear," said Tybalt. "A sinner, you taste."

Their lips brushed against each other, ever so briefly but o so lovingly.

"Thus from my lips by thine my sin is purged."

"Then have my lips the sin that they have took?" asked Mercutio in pretend shock.

"Sin from my lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Dulcet angel, give me my sin again."

Gently, Tybalt cupped Mercutio's face and kissed his lover yet again. Mercutio's heart beat in a harmonious symphony. His lips left Tybalt. He gazed into his eyes. Dark hooks to the soul. Mercutio pressed against Tybalt, leaning his head against his shoulder. His fingers entangled in his golden curls. Musk and orange fragrance filled Mercutio's being. Longing stirred within him.
How absurd it was this man stood his enemy but a few weeks ago. He had been blind. Now he saw. What was he to do without him? How could he ever walk away?

"You quiver. Mercutio, my love, what distresses you thus?"

"I would not speak of it yet," said Mercutio. "Hold me now, and grant me reprieve. For only in thine arms do I see radiant sun."

💞

Tybalt

Worry filled Tybalt's heart. Strangely, did Mercutio act, holding on as if this be the last time he laid eyes on Tybalt. A tear fell upon his chest.

"Beloved, what is this I feel?" he asked.

"'Tis nought," spoke his lover dismissively.

"Aye, it is. Mercutio, speak to me."

But Mercutio held his tongue, and his periwinkle gaze averted. Tears stained Mercutio's face. Once upon a time, Tybalt would have found joy at seeing one of Verona's elite down in the dust. But not so now.

Music rose. Dancers whirled. Tybalt grasped Mercutio's hand and lead him out now none paid attention. Further and further, away from the festivity, away from the gaiety and glee. Out into the night, they went. Beyond the orchard, to that maze of seclusion, where their love blossomed each night they were together. Masks were discarded. They had no need for them here. Only the stars and pale moon above stood witness to their presence.

"I pray thee, Mercutio, share your burden. 'Tis agony to see you thus."

"Hast thou heard the sentencing after the morrow's brawl?"

Tybalt nodded. Death would befall any Capulet and Montague who acts upon strife. Lord Capulet was quick to inform all kinsmen, so none would perish.

"Escalus knoweth of us. Nay, not of you by name, but that I lie with Capulet while befriending Montague. He orders me a bridge between both Houses." An angry sob escaped Mercutio. "I am Fortune's fool! The Prince's blessing is nought but a curse upon us as his most reluctant heir stands before you!"

Tybalt's eyes widened. He grabbed Mercutio by his shoulders. "Say it is not so! Say I shall not lose thee to Mistress Verona!"

Tybalt's heart shattered. Love unexpectedly gained could not be ripped from him so cruelly. For there was no chance for them if Mercutio stood heir. Verona's lineage needed securing. Mercutio would require to wed. He would require to lie with another.

"There still be a chance."

Tybalt looked up.

"Let us away," continued Mercutio. "Let us forsake Verona and go where none shall find us. Be mine, and I be thine."

Yes. A thousand times yes. But no. Tybalt could not leave Verona. He could not leave his darling cousin to the cruel fate her father tied her to.

"You stay silent?" Mercutio tilted his head, a brow raised. "Why, I wonder."

"Thou knowest why," said Tybalt.

"Is kin more to thee? Is blood?"

"Cruel love, I beseech thee, do not ask me to leave Juliet to a blackguard!"

Mercutio stepped away, grief-stricken. "Is it to be Death then? For I see no other I shall willingly embrace."

"Hush, Mercutio, hush."

"Nay! If I am to be taken from thy warmth, let it be by her! Let Death's icy kiss plummet me into the abyss to deliver me from this ache!"

Tybalt rushed to take Mercutio in his arms. His mouth crashed against his lover's. Salty tears stained sweet lips. Desperate hands sought comforting touch. But none could be given at this dismal time. No solace, no hope, no light. Light...
Pearly moonbeams caught Tybalt and Mercutio. Sparkling diamonds dived from the darkened skies above. They parted as ethereal starlight glistened around them. Fragrant jasmine filled the air. Tybalt's breath caught as he recalled the midsummer night. Could it be?

"How now! Do mine eyes deceive? Nay, this be truly our lustrous Queen Titania's dearest friends!"

Tybalt turned upon hearing the sprite's silvery voice. High on the branches of a pine tree sat Puck.

"Sadness and desolation I see before me," said the tip-eared man with white hair. "Only love should be in thine hearts. Tell me thus what grieves you both so."

"Love, good friend Puck," said Mercutio. "Loss of love, that is."

To Tybalt's surprise, the sprite laughed heartily. "Ha! What fools you mortals be! Love is ne'er lost! Behold!"

Trees parted way. The twinkling lights about Tybalt and Mercutio shone brilliantly as they moved and created a path. 'Twas pure magic.

"Let the stars guide thee on your way to retrieve what you believe lost. Go to, go to!"

Puck disappeared, leaving Tybalt and Mercutio once more to the quiet of night. Dark and periwinkle eyes met. Hands clasped together, and upon the path of starlight, they walked. What hath they to lose, anyhow?