Chapter Text
The party was just within reach, nothing was stopping Romeo from going with his friends in attendance, not even his despairing state of mind still wishing for Rosaline back. Even so, he found himself stalling as he claimed to Benvolio he required a torch. That led to further sentiment from Mercutio in retaliation. The two argued a short while, as Romeo declared it was not smart, so said his dream.
But Mercutio would not have it, as he did not believe in dreams. They were dreamt, yes, while one slept, but they were not true to anyone.
“My dream told me dreamers often lie,” Mercutio stated in defiance.
“They lie in bed while they dream about the truth,” Replied Romeo. He believed himself fully, and with confidence, but it was only met with a friendly sneer.
“Oh, then I see you’ve been with Queen Mab.” The snarkiness in the blonde's voice was evident, even to an idiot.
Romeo tilted his head, and asked “Who’s Queen Mab?”
With a laugh Mercutio began, “She’s the fairies midwife. She’s no bigger than the stone on a city councilman’s ring. She rides around in a wagon drawn by tiny little atoms, and she rides over men’s noses as they lie sleeping.” Romeo watched as he danced around the empty street, spewing nonsensically about this Queen Mab.
The older boy's words were playfully spoken, and even so, he reached a stop after his lengthy monologue, and finished it with shaking shoulders. It seemed almost as though he’d been wronged by this woman.
“Mab is the old hag who gives false sex dreams to virgins and teaches them how to hold a lover and bear a child. She’s the one-“ Mercutio cried to the group in front of him.
“Enough, enough! Mercutio, be quiet. You’re talking nonsense.” Romeo ran to him with concern, and partly with contempt as he would simply not stop speaking.
“True, but-“ he began again.
“Mercutio,” Romeo stated firmly, grabbing the other boy's face and holding theirs close together. “You are saying nothing,” he breathed out. “Nothing.” The air between them seemed heavy, and Romeo could feel the night's heat catching up to him.
Mercutio stared into his eyes searchingly, and when he seemed to have found nothing in them, sighed and placed his forehead on the others for comfort.
“Dreams are but nothing,” Mercutio mumbled and shook his head lightly.
Romeo bit back a smile, trying his best not to laugh. Not because he was amused by his friend's antics, but because Mercutio seemed to be so cynical and yet such a romantic. It was an impossibly nuanced state of being he was in, and yet Romeo had always found it rather enticing. Hence why they had remained friends so long.
When Mercutio moved his head away from Romeos, who was still holding his face, they seemed to be so alone on that street. The group they had come with stared on with impatience, but Romeo could only see him. He was so concerned for what his friend may have gone through, what he may not have told him, and all of that concern was tunneled into this friendly gesture of comfort.
Finally, reluctantly, Romeo let go, Mercutio smiled, and away they went to the party of the Capulets.
— — —
Later that night, Romeo dreamt of the party, and of the girl he had met. Juliet Capulet, a beautiful person she was.
In a garden they stood, surrounded by tall hedges scattered with pink roses, as they spoke in hushed tones; just like behind the pillar earlier.
“Saints don’t move, even when they grant prayers,” Juliet said sweetly with a smile to match her air.
“Then don’t move while I act out my prayer,” said Romeo, holding her hands in his, as he kissed her on the lips. It was short, and sweet, and something about it felt almost bitter. “Now my sin has been taken from my lips by yours,” he chuckled.
“But it was not your sin you have given me, fair pilgrim,” Juliet frowned. That was far from what she had said earlier, far from the second kiss they had shared.
“What ever do you mean?”
“That was meant for another, one who was not me. Your love for them has transferred to my lips in a most terrible manner.”
“Juliet,” he said, upset, although he had not yet known her name.
“No,” she shook her head. “Dearest Romeo, it is not me you love, as you have only loved one before. The rose was never yours as it’s thorns were too plentiful, and neither am I. Save that second kiss for the one who truly deserves it.”
Romeo stared on with horror at the apparition conjured by his dream. The hedges seemed to impose upon them now, tightening the already small space in which they were enclosed, and soon he felt himself sink into the ground as he watched Juliet’s fair face distort and shrink into one unrecognizable.
When the boy tried to call her name, no sound came out. He felt he could not breathe, as though he was choking on the petals of those peaceful roses.
Then he awoke, with a start. Romeo looked about his room wildly, feeling as though the dream had been all too real. “Dear god,” he muttered to himself as he stood and dressed.
The sun was still behind the sky, the moon now disappeared, as Romeo took a stroll around the house of Montague.
The corridors seemed cold and alone, even as the torches lining the halls stood brightly in the darkness of night and the occasional servant passed by his side. Deciphering his dream seemed a great headache, and yet it would be one he could endure. Surely Juliet was talking about Rosaline. He was not truly over her, and Juliet knew she was just a distraction from his despair.
Even so, Romeo could not help but wonder why she would be so opposed to him loving her. There was no guilt he carried over loving a woman to get over another. It was simply something one does.
When the sun began to shine in through the windows of the home, warm and bright and lovely, Romeo let himself bask in the morning's love. Birds began their song after only minutes, and even they couldn’t silence his spiraling mind.
Why had he loved Rosaline in the first place? Had he truly loved her?
Perhaps not, but perhaps he had. Maybe he was meant to go back to her, maybe she never meant what she said.
But he could not risk the embarrassment of rejecting one’s rejection. And so Romeo made his way to his cousin's room, seeking the company of one who could silence another.