valmora: "Monty Python and the Holy Grail": King Arthur abusing a peasant, captioned "Help, help, I'm being repressed!" (repression)
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Quite probably my last Romeo & Juliet fic, the sequel to "Entreat", a ficlet in which Mercutio and the Friar speak, certain things are asked, and decisions are made.

This is "Relayed."


Title: Relayed
Author: Val Mora
Rating: PG
Fandom: Romeo and Juliet
Pairing: Mercutio/Benvolio
Disclaimer: Romeo & Juliet and all associated characters belong to Wm. Shakespeare, although by now it's all probably public domain. I do not own, only play in his world, and make no money.
Notes: Bloody iambic pentameter, again. ::snogs [livejournal.com profile] cbizkit wildly for remembering that IamPent isn’t necessary between lovers::


Tracèd paths of stone lead the street to the Friar’s chapel, and it is here that Mercutio stands waiting when another comes, two shaded from the gaze of passing by high walls suiting better a fortress than a worship-house.

“Apologies, Mercutio – insisted, did my lady aunt, upon seeing Romeo t’home, and as thou–” A silence, then, in meeting of lips, quiet lovers’ embrace.

“Rosaline?” quoth Mercutio, visage cast in humour. “He pines still?”

“Still and always, or so do his vows swear.” The look between them shared lights both their faces.

Mercutio is first to part, words bright. “He vows upon inconstance – what comes, what upon his eyes doth light, what feminine sweetness seems most fair – but little villainy from such vices shall t’him come. Thy aunt has little need of worry.”

“Perhaps, but –” and here a pause, for breath and sparking hope, “you and I, we fear other happenings.” A request in silence unanswered only by yet more stillness unstirred. “Mercutio, hast thou spoken to the Friar?”

“I have.”

“What say he?”

“Of dust and dust, of Writ and Word, of blood and soil – of this are we made, as any and all.”

“Thou say’st nothing of substance, Mercutio. Come, pray tell, speak.”

“I say all of substance, Benvolio, for the answer was no.”

Benvolio’s head is bowed a moment, and his lips part briefly in the thought of speech, but no words pass them.

Quoth he, “We hoped else,” and a gesture of beckoning from Mercutio brings them embraced, no comfort but despair.

Date: 2005-09-28 02:59 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] valmora.livejournal.com
I was just saying that since it's a prose fic, you didn't really need it
I interpreted what you said to me. XD Mostly, the reason I chose not to do it in iambic pentameter is because they weren't being formal towards each other (and Mercutio doesn't, for the most part, speak in iam-etc anyway).

considered making this the poster story for the gay marriage debate? Ouch.
LOL. I'm so terribly topical.

*nitpick is embraced and edited* My Shakespearean is a little rusty. When are you supposed to use 'doth', anyway?
XD Anachronism = the spice of life. Even the best do it (*coughShakespeare's Julius Caesarcough*). Fixed it anyway.

THANK YOU for writing this! :D
Was a pleasure. ^_^ Now I need to read Twelfth Night...

Date: 2005-10-11 10:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cbizkit.livejournal.com
I think "doth" is for the singular third-person or, like, a single thing – but man, I can't figure it out completely, because sometimes it's "does". And I don't know why. >___<

YES, you do need to read Twelfth Night! OMG so much canon slash. <3 Plus it's funny and sweet even while not being, like... Romeo and Juliet-sweet. :P

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