Work Text:
When she was a child she'd crawl into her mother's lap when things became too much. The soft scent of lavendar and fresh linens seemed to calm her. Rosaline's mother would hum her a song, now that she thinks back on it, it may have been something she just made up, a nonsensical song to lull away nightmares and frightening thoughts. When she grrew into a teen, fearing what the future would bring, which country would wage war against her country, her father would give her a soft, patronizing look from across the table, his eyes crinkled in the corner in such a way as if the notion was ridiculous. It made her feel like a child under his patronizing glare, but it made her feel safe. Both instances, she had missed her parents comfort. That seemed like such a long time since the death of both of her parents, comfort had been very far away since then.
When they first came to stay as servants it had been hard, sharing a room had been beneath her and so so had the chores, and so she learned how to deal with and how to talk to the other servants. It took well over a year for her to see herself as one. The other servants taught her to find comfort in the little things, a rainy day, when the heads of the house went off on a trip, or worse, during funerals when they wouldn't be noticed if they snuck off into town and would barely be missed all day. She learned how to live outside of the privileged scope of view, friends she had once had had shunned her, and loves she had once dreamed of having all but disappeared, slipping through her fingertips like sand.
Rosaline's new life of hardship, as a servant in her Uncle's household, was so different from her life of comfort. It exposed her to how cruelly she had treated the servants, much how she ordered them instead of asking politely and it also alotted her her own revenge at times. Still, when Juliet came to her to explain everything that happened and was going to happen she was wracked with worry not just for herself but her cousin. Was he not a Montague? Was it not a Montague who gutted her father leaving him to bleed out in the street like a commoner?
Still, Rosaline knew all too well the call of love and how urgent and necessary the call was. She had once answered it herself, she thought about Escalus for a brief moment. He had landed back in her life as easily as he sailed out of it, she wanted to be angry at him but knew he had as much control over where he was dragged off to as he did when the sun rose and set each day. Rosaline may have no longer had a life in the lap of luxury but she did understand it, you did as you were told, it was your sacrifice to pay for the quality of life you had.
Still, she never would have thought that Escalus would force her to marry such a man. A Montague! Hadn't he loved her? Did everything he had said once still matter? Maybe a part of her was being childish, desperately hanging onto the last comforts of her old life. She should have forgotten him after all these years, but he still hadn't forgotten her. He called out to her as if not a second had passed between the time they had last seen each other. He had wanted to give her back what he thought she lost, what he thought she wanted. She didn't want nobility, it was a burden and a prison most of the time. She wanted....wanted... A chance to start over, with him, and to let him fill that hole inside of her.
She didn't want to marry a damned Montague. She didn't want to marry at all. Rosaline wanted to flee, to travel, to join a convent, to get out of Verona before the city and this silly blood feud swallowed everyone and everything up within it. If Escalus joined her, and she knew he couldn't, that would make it all better. They were at an impasse, he was beholden to his duty as Prince and she to her family, that didn't make her love him or hate this terrible situation any less. He had left her with a hot kiss on her lips and a damning question; What do you want?
That's how she found herself here making her way up through the low streets, it had been another trick taught to her by the servants she shared so many spaces with, the city was connected by these low streets and another death had befallen the Capulets they were too worried about burying the poor child than to worry about her disappearance. The burial would be happening in a town close by but still it gave her times. Escalus had posed a question she couldn't quite answer at that time but she knew now.
"Rosaline? What... What are you doing here?" Escalus asked as Rosaline was ushered inside by the royal guards who left as quickly as they came. "I thought you would be with your family."
"No, Lady Capulet thought it would be best for me to stay behind, she was afraid I'd flee into the country side."
"Ah, I could see the concern."
"How is Isabella?"
"Fine, I assume, she went out to the funeral, to keep things civil. I admit, she can be much more tactful about these things than I can."
"But you're King."
"Sometimes things are just titles." Escalus said and stood up leaving a mountain of paperwork on the desk. "Have you reconsidered the title?"
"Lady Capulet and my Uncle have informed me time and time again that I don't have a choice. This isn't about me or that abominal Montague, it's about Verona." Rosaline said mocking her aunt's false cheery disposition, it but a soft smile on Escalus' face. "You're the only one who asked what I wanted."
"Have you decided?" He asked as he walked closer to her.
"Comfort."
"You said you know not what it is."
"I've decided, or did my best to make up my mind about it."
"What would you like?"
"A conversation in a place where the walls don't have ears. This is no secret that the palace is the biggest gossip in all of Verona." Rosaline said and watched as Escalus pressed his index finger to his lips and beckoned her over to his bookcase with the other. He reached out pulling on the spine of a large golden text and case turned exposing the false wall and a secret apartment. Rosaline was surprised but still expected no less from the previous King, still it was nice to know they could still have privacy.
The office was lit with candles to provide the comfort of light. It lit up the walls that were decorated with familiar paintings, paintings that had been purchased at an auction from her home when her parents were killed. The small room held a dull glow high enough for them to have a conversation. Escalus references towards the chair near the large desk, she took a seat before he moved a chair to sit across from her.
"I'd like you comfort me."
"Comfort you, how?" He asked, he'd dreampt of the many ways he could comfort Rosaline if she let him. There had been a few close calls in their youth, too close.
"A story, a joke, anything at this point. It has been far too long since we've seen each other and when we do you're trying to marry me off to a man I loathe--"
"But Vero--"
"There is no Verona right now, there's just you and I, and whatever you feel comfortable telling me." Rosaline said as if it were law, it was one of the things he enjoyed about his time spent with her. Rosaline could tell him the sky was purple and raining oranges in such a way that he would be inclined to believe. It's why he loved her and why it had to be her to end this ridiculous blood feud.
"Venice was a much different place, not nearly as much blood shed, I had to get used to this again." Escalus said and Rosaline gave him that damned perfect smile, he'd sell the world right from underneath their feet if she had asked. Yet it was the one thing she wanted the most that he could not give her, while it set his blood on fire it also set a damned unnerving tingle down his spine. As much as he pushed for this wedding she would wed Benvoli, she would have a Montague-Capulet offspring and all he had dreamed of having with her would finally be crushed.
So he took this moment to not only comfort her but to give himself a bit of comfort, he remembered the curves and lines in her face, the way she looked when she laughed and the gentle raise of her face, and every miniscule action she probably hadn't thought about. Escalus was unsure how much time passed but he knew it was a sizable amount of time. He hadn't wanted this to end, he wanted her to have dinner with him, to tell him how Livia was progressing, what happened after both of their parents perished. He didn't want her to leave this palace and if she did it would only be after she was crowned Queen. It was a heavy feeling pressing down on him but it was much lighter than all the blood that would be on his hands if the Capulets and the Montagues kept on as they had been.
"It must be late now, I should go." Rosaline said.
"I'm sorry to have kept you so late." Escalus said, it hadn't been the words he had wanted to say.
"It was...nice. We should do this often."
"You're a lady now, Rosaline. It would be strange to continue to be seen with you."
"When I'm forced to marry that brute I'll be in your company more and more often, or at least Isabella. We'll see each other unless..." She started but the words died on her lips.
"Unless what?"
"You're leaving again." She said and bowed her head and folded her hands.
"Verona is my city, Rosaline." Escalus said and laughed, it haunted him how much he sounded like his father at times. "I'll be here until they break down the walls."
"If I'm out any later they may do just that." Rosaline said and looked up with a brilliant smile on her face. They stepped through the false door and back into his office. The weight of their worlds shouldn't have left them so easily but it did, and when they stepped back through it was like walking back through an oppressing portal.
"Should I call a carriage?" Escalus asked.
"I have feet and a mind of my own, your grace, I'll be fine." Rosaline said and smiled at him one last time before slipping out of his office, he looked out the window and watched as she made her way back onto the streets of Verona as easily as she left them. He wondered, just for a moment, if she knew how she carried his heart with her as she left him.
"Your Grace," A guard said from the door.
"Yes."
"There's been another murder."
"Capulet or Montague?" He asked.
"Montague, your grace."
"As I figured, have the guards double up and keep a beat on patrol. There will be blood spilt tonight for sure." Escalus said reassuming the mask and the crown as easily as he had taken it off. Escalus may have been caught between two great loves; Verona and his Rosaline, but he knew who would win, who would have their way in the end.