Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Once upon a time, far out from civilization, in a forest below a dark sky that was daring to storm, in a narrow tall and escape proof stone tower, decorated for decrepit royalty, sat Romeo. Romeo wasn’t always a tower dweller. There was a time he had a warm home, warm clothes, warm food and a fairly loving family. While his underfed body sagged against and half below the windowsill, his heart remained in Verona; the place he would be right now if it wasn't for whatever green monster brought him here. 

The kidnapper was depicted in paintings hung on three walls in this lightless place. The absurdity of the situation didn't really surprise him anymore. He was never one for the mystical. There were only a few times in his life he had wound up in danger due to magic or creatures. Masterfully slaying a puffing magic dragon, an octopus witch, and an overgrown blind snake. He was quite proud of that last one. He had split its head open in front of a cheering crowd. It oozed metallic teal all over his hands. He lightly scratched his knuckles.  

Those times had ended, for his one and only love, Juliet, was dead. Her skin cold laid within the deepest red in lace. The sight was too much to bear, so he ran. She belonged to a family that harbored hatred for him, but she was everything to him. He does not remember how she died any longer. All he remembers was the sting between his ribs.

Now he sat in his own lace dress, except it was a mourning black; rough and itchy. His previous clothes lay sweat-ridden, wrinkled and strain across the floor a few feet from him, partially under the round oak table which wobbled if anyone were to pick up or put down the small and uneaten, dust-collecting tarts.

The pale moonlight rested on his face; cold. He was only twenty three. He expected dragons and cheers, not an old man's way out, but then again, the cold felt sickly sweet. 

That's when he heard it. A rustling from the bushes below. Far below. Barely a sound… Barely. Who could it be? Who would even visit a failure of a man who couldn’t even keep his love alive? “‘Ello?” A jolly yet deep Italian voice rang out from the darkness. Romeo peered down to catch a look at the intruder. He saw a kind round face looking back up at him. The intruder’s eyes seemed to shine in the moonlight as they stared back. “Wow. You’re … something.” The kind man said through his chunky mustache. 

“Who art thou! What is thy purpose here hidden intruder!” Romeo called down. Did this man intend to capture him for ransom, at a time he couldn’t fight back? Taking advantage of his weakness?

“Oh no! I don’t mean to intrude!” He nervously replied, “I caught word that Lord Bowser imprisoned … you?”

Romeo took a step back. Bowser? It was all a nightmarish blur. In his memory there was running and more running into forbidden woods and then no more. Juliet’s death had happened that day and he couldn’t find it in himself to clear his mind.

Since then, weeks have flown by, and he'd become resigned to it all. Time had lost its meaning, but perhaps this intruder was telling the truth. If so, could he really help him be free? Romeo called down, “And if it is I the rumor speaks? Why venture here? For laugh and jest?” 

“It’s not a joke your highness! You’re in danger! Bowser plans on marrying you to George the Third for money!” The mustached man told him. 

On this Romeo’s confusion only grew. George the Third is a name he’s only heard ever in legends. A fictional figure. And what’s more, how would this Bowser monster gain money from his marriage. Romeo found no words. All that left his lips was, “How?”

“You do not know your highness?” The man called up with softness, “Bowser’s married your father; Lord Montague.” 

At those words Romeo’s soul left his body. How could this be? In a matter of weeks, he’d achieved a spiky and kidnapping stepmother. The grief from Juliet must have really left him paralysed. 

He sank down further, no longer able to see the kind man’s face, gaze to the ceiling. “My thanks, kind sir.” He spoke with glassy eyes, sending beads of sorrow which soaked the hem of his black dress, “Now I know what fate has planned for me.”

“Well… it doesn’t have to be?” The man replied with a smiling voice, “I’m here to save you!” 

At that, Romeo spun back and stared down, seeing the moustached smile he had heard so clearly. 

“That, such a kind deed, you would do?” He stuttered out, unable to hide his tears any longer. 

“Of course!” The rescuer screamed out into the cold air. 

A wave of warmth crashed through Romeo’s heart, as though the moon had become a hearth. A sunshine he’d only ever felt around Juliet in the past; and Rosaline; and Susannah; and Jacqueline; and Anastasia; and Fiona, of course. But other than them, this was all so new. “Thank you! A thousand times thank you!” Romeo yelled down at the darkness, “Yet, how does a wave of relief set a stone tower aflame? It defies the possible, and yet I beg you prove it right.”

“Ah… Well… Ah” The mustache he wore seemed to slant downwards with each sound as joy turned to a confused doubt, “Do you have long hair?” 

Romeo shook his head and all the short dark curls on it. “Might thee possess beans of great powers?” Romeo questioned. 

His saviour looked up at him with one eyebrow raised up in an unreadable expression, “Why do you ask?” 

Romeo turned away realizing how odd it sounded, “I have simply heard tales of great beanstalks, heaven-reaching, that one may climb.” He began to murmur, “I heard them when I was merely countertop-reaching. They’d likely prove false.”

“Oh! You have? Is that what these do?” The intruder replied, “I saw a bald man with no nose, carrying these beans! I think he was a wizard.” The rescuer held out his hand for Romeo to see roughly 10 gold beans in his palm. 

Romeo’s jaw dropped, “How!? What did thou spend?”

“Aaaah. . . Unimportant.” The man’s mustache started to sweat as he looked away.

Romeo tilted his head to the side, “What did thou spend?” he asked again slower this time. How evil was this rescuer. Maybe he’d be better off accepting his fate and marrying King George. 

“Well,” The rescuer sighed, “I didn’t exactly spend anything… See, he was asking for a fight.”

Romeo’s fear then subsided at those words. His rescuer was no backstabber or murderer… probably. Merely a thief or street fighter and he could settle for that. Platonically. So, he called back, “Alright that is! Do plant them! I shall climb down to you!” He planted the seeds, and the next moments passed with the tree leaves blowing quietly around them. “May I know thy name, my rescuer?” Romeo asked. 

“It’s me, a’Mario!” Mario replied. ‘Mario’ Romeo thought. What a name. If you say it loud then music starts playing. Yet, say it soft and it’s almost like praying. Romeo sighed contently. However, his dark angel below him was still waiting it seemed. Waiting for what? “Tell me yours.” Mario called up as if reading his mind. 

“Oh, I am Romeo Montague. You knew that not?”

The mustache quivered somewhat, as if in its own realisation of some kind? It took Mario a moment to respond. “I didn’t. All I knew was Bowser's step son was in trouble.”

Romeo huffed a laugh at that. “Well, I am grateful that allowed for us to be met.” Romeo confessed. 

It was at that moment the beanstalk decided to grow and grow it did. It came up like a vertical tsunami. Vines of varying sizes tangled and twisted roping around one another as they rose, shooting for the stars. Huge leaves the size of Romeo himself sprouted off of it. One even fell in through the window. Romeo staggered back and Mario started to laugh contagiously from below. 

“I love stealing magical beans!” Mario beamed as he bounced along up to the stalk. 

“I-Isn't it I who climbs down to thou?” Romeo asked. 

“That will take longer!” Mario yelled back as he started to jump. 

Mario jumped and kicked against the stalk with far greater power than Romeo could’ve thought possible. He then jumped off and kicked against the tower. Romeo’s initial excitement turned to worry as the stone was pushed out of place by Mario’s feet. Romeo let out a gasp too late as Mario had already done it twice more. Over and over. Against the beanstalk against the tower, each time the stone rattled more, as Mario gained height. “CEASE!” Romeo yelled, but by that point Mario had already reached the window. 

Time stopped.

After sweeping elegantly through the window, placing both his boots on the floorboards, Mario was suddenly right in front of Romeo.

He was taller than Romeo thought, almost matching Romeo’s height. He wore a rose red suit with ocean blue overalls and a matching red cap, which read, in white, the letter ‘M’. He was staring at Romeo with large, round, dilated, dark eyes of the softest and most all encompassing woodland browns.

There was barely any space between them. It smelt of vanilla and the woods too.

The humble man's warm soothing breath brushed against the prisoner's face. The room was dark, quiet, yet it was still visible when Mario's face began to flush with a faint crimson, rivalling his hat. Romeo could feel his heart beat hammer away at his chest…

CcccccrrrrrRRREeeaakkkK!!! 

Romeo snapped his eyes away to find the room had started to tilt, spinning down around him and- 

BOOM! 

The sound of stone and wood falling harshly into splinters. 

After that was a blur. There were trees and the deep blue sky above him. Just him? No. Two arms were wrapped under him. He was being held. Carried. Later, there were people talking. A woman’s velvet voice. She seemed annoyed. More time passed in a blur. 

Rays of gold stretched out against a light caramel ceiling. The room was filled with the soft smell of polished old wood. Romeo was lying down on a bed. A very soft silken bed, beneath the still itchy black dress he was wearing, but an incredible improvement it was to the bed at the tower.

At the foot of his bed rested some folded up clothes; a white weightless and fancy ruffle-sleeved shirt, and beneath it, some light-blue silk flowy overalls with pearly buttons. Both items smelt like cinnamon in his hands.

On the bedside table next to him sat a pink-painted clay vase of flowers. They were petaless and instead had multiple rings circling their white centres. These rings were a contrasting dark blue. It would’ve been a comforting sight, except each flower had a face. Cute faces, just two adorable eyes, but still, faces.

The door creaked hesitantly as someone appeared. Something? A short person who looked as though they had a red spotted white mushroom for a hat or scalp. “HELLO MR. ROMEO!” They squeaked in a cheery, high pitched whilst awfully gravelly voice. “ARE YOU ALRIGHT?” They lightly stomped their way in, carrying a plate. A plate of a dozen sugary, fresh cupcakes. 

“That remains unknown,” Romeo stuttered, his voice also strangely croaky, “Where be this place?”

“You’re currently in rest mode at MUSHROOM KINGDOM!” They answered. “The princess just said CUPCAKES! So, we improvised!” Romeo looked around the bedroom some more. There was a princess nearby? “I’m TOAD! Mario and the princess are very worried about you!” Romeo’s eyes met Toad’s. ‘Mario is real’, his mind screamed. “Also, some lady called JULIET said she KNOWS you! I think she’s worried too!” Toad screeched. Romeo blinked. And blinked. What? 

He must have misheard. Juliet is dead. He saw her corpse. Cold as winter and breathless as stone. There was no way she… oh no… Mario’s also dead. They both died in that tower and Heaven is run by mushroom people.

Romeo’s eyes started to flood. This was too much, and each thought hurt more and more. Stabbing against an already sick head. “UH OH!” Toad gravelled out gesturing around him frantically, “WHAT?!”

“I am befallen? Slain?” Romeo croaked between tears. 

“FUCK NO?” Toad exclaimed with a very unnecessary curse word all things considered; not adding much to the story nor being very humorous to read and simply just breaking the immersion all together.

Romeo looked up at the creature with red, weak eyes. Before he could ask any more, Toad had, at lightning-speed, slammed a cupcake straight into Romeo’s mouth. 

Normally, he would be furious, but it tasted amazing, and he was just then realizing how incredibly hungry he was. While he sat there pathetically chewing a full cupcake and crying, Toad told him that Juliet would visit him soon, and if Romeo had died, he would definitely have gone to hell. This was likely a joke, but it did nothing except intensify the waterfalls from his eyes as Toad awkwardly took their leave. 

* * * * *

Juliet woke up to a blurry scene. Darkness all around, housing the luminous, warm, orange glows of many, many candles, stretching out in patchy lines around the sleeping tomb she was in; some on walls; some on the stone grey floor; flickering in and out. Alive and dead. Alive and dead. Her eyes were dry, like they'd been bathed in salt. They wanted to close again. Was her heart beating? It had to be, surely, but she couldn't move it. She couldn't move anything. 

Nothing wanted to move, but it did anyway. Against her, without her. Her back was placed linear upon a stone altar, made from beautifully carved but simple and grey stone, though she couldn't marvel at the waving pattern. Within her torso, everything was resurrecting itself urgently. Blood pumped weakly. All her stomach contents began to slosh. She wanted to throw up. She wanted to die, or rather, stay dead. This whole thing was a terrible idea. 

The colourful but shadowed ceiling above smoothly changed itself between being a blurry orange-lit mess to a detailed masterpiece. Back and forth as her eyes tried pathetically to remember dilating.

She expected her rose; the boy she faked her death for. Instead, there was just the silent and still sight of the flaked, painted, domed ceiling above, displaying angels and demons. Putti and people, all piecing together a scene. Dried paint above, living more than the breathing corpse beneath them. There were two groups fighting, good and evil, so similar were they to her family and the Montagues. Both families that she betrayed with love. Only to end up alone. 

Where was he?

She tried to turn her head, but the action only sent shivers of pain down her neck. Her dark fringe fell with the motion, pointing into her eyes. Her blurry vision stood no chance facing the door. There was only darkness. Darkness that she stupidly and ridiculously felt was nearing closer. Creeping towards her, with a sloshing spongy noise. A white crescent appeared, made of triangular teeth. 

One thing that hadn't waned its skill were her ears, as she could hear the shyest huffing and puffing from the floating crescent. Floating? No. It was large enough, or rather, close enough now to see easier. The darkness exhausting the breathy sounds was metallic, shimmering and dripping. Dripping. Dripping. It stepped closer. Two large eyes opened above its mouth, trained on her, but without thought. Without feeling. It raised an arm up above her, reaching out. This was it. Hell was taking her.

SLICE! Juliet flinched. Her dress was weighted in parts. She looked down to find it stained with a splash of something. It looked like… ink? Her heart started to beat even faster. She couldn’t move but a sword slicing through air kept sounding around her. She was in danger. She had to flee! 

Splash! Silence followed. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw someone.. A hooded in pink figure, with a matching pink skirt, flowing above pants of a darker shade. The figure held the sword, standing with a ring made from puddles of ink. The figure walked. Sharp but quiet footsteps came closer to her altar. She looked up to clearly see the blonde woman’s face. Hair like golden silk, similar to the painted angels, and determined eyes of blue hydrangeas, gazing firmly onto hers. This lady slipped her hands under Juliet’s arms and helped her sit upright.

“Hi? Are you alright?” The lady inquired in a rich, honey-sweet and foreign accent. Juliet only shook her head. “I’m Peach,” The angel said gesturing to herself with a white gloved hand, “and you are Juliet Capulet, right?” 

Juliet tried to answer. She opened her mouth, but no words came out. Her throat began to sting. The strange woman simply nodded. 

A breathy sound lurked a few metres behind Peach. They both turned to see the same creature – or a different one? – it almost appeared two dimensional somehow. It lacked colour, like an inky drawing on pale parchment. It looked unreal, like it was bleeding into reality. It looked demonic. Slowly, it raised its head and stared into them both with dripping inky eyes. Its smile pointed upwards in the same crescent as its horns. 

Peach threw a dagger out from her pants pocket, and it spun in the air along its trajectory of hitting the creature directly through the chest, squrting ink out in all directions, and clanking to the floor behind it. It staggered back, and then sank, melting into the stone dead ground of the Capulet family vault. 

Juliet turned to look up at Peach. Peach returned the gesture with a maritozzi sweet smile. “It’ll be alright now.” she whispered. She didn’t have to. By her overly cheerful face alone, Juliet had known she was safe.

They left the vault of the dead. Juliet’s arm slung around Peach’s shoulder as they stumbled through the cold streets. Once alive and bustling with bright window lights, drunkards singing, and the scent of horses. Now, it was devoid of habitation. The sun had set hours ago; Silence fell against the buildings; Shadows paced in the alleys and pools of ink dripped down window ledges from windows of lifeless hollow homes. 

Where did everyone go? Where could they even go? Nowhere around here felt safe. Peach seemed to be leading them to the edge of the city. Juliet’s mind was a haze. Was she seriously leaving the only home she’s ever known? She had walked these streets less than others in the city, but still more times than she could count. Granted, she couldn’t count far. Girls weren’t allowed in school. However, she still kept reading her books when she could. Books she hadn't had on her at that moment. When would she see them again?

Juliet’s mind finally quit rambling once they reached the city’s walls. Before them stood an opened sturdy gate unlocked to a deep forest which grew untamed. Peach tried to walk forward but Juliet raised her arm to block her. Frozen in place. This was the forest she was told for years to stay clear of. The forest which let anyone in and not a soul out. She was not about to walk into death’s grip.

Not without her Romeo. 

Peach stared through Juliet, and read her with ease. White silk gloves tightly wrapped around Juliet’s hand. “We’ll be alright. I know the path through,” She whispered, “Come on.” She pulled forward and the two of them ran towards the dark winding trees. Distant screeches sounded out from the city behind them. Juliet bolted her eyes shut as she runs alongside this woman. Faster and faster, unable to think of the consequences of breathing in air over this soil. Unable to think of the dangers ahead. All lost to her as she focused on the grip between their hands. 

The next thing she felt was the presence of leaves and sharp vines against her skin, and scraping against her deathbed dress and cloak. Their shoes trudged between patches of mud and grass as they ran. She could barely breathe anymore, but all focus was on escaping the monsters; escaping death; escaping with pure instinctual running. After a few minutes of running, they both slowed to a stop, allowing her to catch what remained in her lungs. Juliet opened her weary eyes to see a large opening in the hillside. A tunnel of sorts. A huge concrete green pipe leading into a dense shadow. Large enough to be its own house. Small sections of paint had pealed from it along with small scratches and dents. A faint rust was in the air, and the gentlest most soothingly ghostlike breath whispered out from the structure. She turned to Peach who slightly suppressed a laugh at Juliet's befuddlement.

“I'm guessing you're a bit confused?” Peach asked though she knew the answer. Juliet tried to speak only for a croak to escape, so she simply nodded. Peach’s eyebrows frowned as she examined the damsel's face, from her shadowed brown eyes to her ears to her lips. Nothing was damaged. She only hesitated for a second before spilling the news, “Your home, Verona, has fallen.”

Juliet’s chest compressed as whatever was once inside it cracked and broke.

“There was nothing we could do. Monsters of ink flooded the streets, and an immediate evacuation was ordered. Most citizens made their way out to the nearest city, to the west, seeking asylum across the lake, in New York.” Peach caught light in Juliet’s eyes, “Yes, your family too. They’re safe, and ordered me to find you, or rather, retrieve your body. Though, after Friar Laurence came clean about your survival, it became a rescue mission.” A freezing air went down her throat and Juliet stung herself on her own gasp. She could only imagine the fear her parents must have felt. But everything's still blurry. A war broke out while she slept? How long had it been? And where, o where, was her rose.

Peach mistook her Juliet's tilted head for a different question. Why had this Peach been the one my parents sent? The angel answered, “You see, my kingdom was the main line of defence during the battle, sending aid and toad-power. It still wasn't enough to save the city, but it stalled for time while people fled. 

“At the time, the road to the bay and route from there, sailing over to New York, was safe. But now it seems the ink monsters have taken over that path too. Luckily, they are just frustrated with failing to cross the water. Only a fraction of their army remains lurking around Verona.”

Peach reached into her pocket and pulled out two rings. They were both golden and had writing scratched into them, but in a language which was completely new to Juliet. Peach placed one ring onto Juliet’s finger and the other one on her own. Then she vanished. Peach was gone, replaced by air, and Juliet’s breath hitched once more as danger creeped in from all angles. She spun around for any sign of the angelic woman. “I’m still here.” Peach stated. Maybe that was for reassurance, but it only scared Juliet more.

Looking down at her own body, Juliet found herself missing as well. Had they become air somehow? Ghosts? No. She still felt solid and in place. “Look, there’s another pipe after this one which should bring us home,” Peach explained with an unseeable look of sorrow, “My home. Not your home. You can't reunite with your family just yet. Once we reach the kingdom, you'll be safe there.” Her invisible hand grabbed Juliet’s firmly, “There’s a long trip we have to take first though. Can you promise not to let go?” Peach cupped her face and used her thumb to brush along the tired woman's cheekbones. Juliet closed her eyes and nodded against the magic-hidden silk of the angel's gloved hand.

She was led into the giant’s pipe, their footsteps echoed in delicate taps around the smooth round walls. The walk through the hushed darkness took a few minutes, which for the most part were spent for Juliet, leaning against the kind angel's shoulder.

The world they stepped into was remarkable. It was gorgeous. Almost everything was deep moss-green and thriving, but there was an air of war to the place. After some hours of hiking, Juliet decided to test her vocal cords again, “How did thy acquire such rings?” Peach startled at her voice. Most of this trip had been silent. 

Peach said, “They were made long ago in this world, long before I was born. I was told they were spares by the sales-elf I bought them from. They were cheap. He said he wanted them gone.” With their invisibility, Juliet couldn't see how honest her saviour's words are. 

They continued mostly in silence after that, until they reached the next green pipe. It was in an odd location compared to the last one. This one was surrounded by tall fires, flicking up against the green stone, and up in the distance was the tallest tower-like structure Juliet has ever seen, holding within it an orange cat's eye. 

Juliet shivered at the sight. Peach swung her free arm around the damsel's shoulders and gripped her hand even tighter. They stepped through the next pipe, happily leaving whatever was behind.

Chapter Text

Juliet’s first and only few weeks thus far in The Mushroom Kingdom were like heaven. She found herself exploring the kingdom more than she thought of her own home. And how could she not? The roads were made of the softest and kindest dirt and they snaked their way around mushroom-looking houses of various colours, each with large white spots. 

The castle itself wasn't mushroom themed. It looked in many ways similar to a classic castle from a fairytale, except smooth and shining in the sun. It had cylindrical towers of grey stone bricks, topped with red almost cone shaped brick roofs each holding up triangular rose red flags. It was in many ways a regular lovely castle, except it went above and beyond with the 'lovely' by somehow being painted the most calming versions of its colours. All this was settled comfortably on the gentlest grass hills Juliet had ever seen. 

Needless to say, she needed multiple occasions of convincing to truly believe she hadn't passed on and led here by an angel. In reality, Peach wasn't an angel at all, she was a princess; The Princess, though, she operated more like a queen. The first few days after this discovery, Juliet couldn't help but turn red whenever Peach was near her, and she struggled with not referring to her by her full title. 

Princess Peach. 

Something about that alliteration sent a sparkle of goosebumps along Juliet’s arms.

For the past few weeks Juliet had also been continuously asking for information on her rose. Where he might be; where he was during the attack. No news was found on Romeo. 

It felt like a piece of her was missing, replaced with shadow. The stakes felt high enough back then, when their love could've meant life or death, but now, she just felt lucky to be alive; lucky to be here in a mushroom-themed land, with the luxuries of good food and accommodations, and lucky that her parents were still out there.

Somewhere.

Still, she hoped to God each day that, Romeo still breathed.

One evening, Juliet’s eyes were caught by colour over the land out her window, as a carriage wobbly rolled its way along a dirt path into the city. It was definitely being drawn by a horse from this region as the horses here were the slightest touch more wooly than in Verona.

The carriage didn't have a roof and she could make out just two figures on it. One was driving the carriage and the other was lying down. Neither were toads.

Juliet went around the palace until she found Peach and informed her of this peculiar sight. It wasn’t long after that when she found out it was Romeo’s arrival, only achieved by Peach’s friend Mario saving him from some tower out east.

Romeo needed time to rest, but each second was gruelling away at Juliet. At the news he was safe she was overwhelmed with relief. The shadow in her was replaced by that light that once bloomed there; the piece that was missing. 

She paced the halls while Romeo slept. Then a toad approached her and told her Romeo had woken up and that he'd requested her company.

The door opened and Romeo took a shaky breath in. Eyes fixed on the face of his lost sun. She was still stunning, and more alive than ever. The sunlight streaming in through the door outlined her figure. The dress was new, sage green, and fit for royalty, however, her hair was hanging loose in such stark contrast, he almost fell back on his bed. How long had she been here? “Is it truly my bright star that stands before me? For I thought I’d never see the dawn again.” Romeo spoke almost a whisper. 

Juliet walked up and knelt beside his bed holding his hand firmly. “I'm sorry.” she whispered. “It was my belief that my rose was cut from the ground and taken to a high stones; left to wither. I’m glad to see that change.” She smiled.

Sunlight broke through the window over the two. A comfortable silence. Holding the other's hand in their own. Then, Juliet remembered the unease; the questions she'd been wanting to ask; the questions only he could answer. 

“Why weren't you there?” She whispered. “What happened?” 

“Why wasn't I where? At the tomb?” he asked softly. “I thought thee were dead, my fair sun. How art thou alive?” He felt his features smile, eyes mirroring as glass.

“T’was all a ploy… We were supposed to meet there.” her voice cracked. “Did Friar Laurence tell thee not?”

Romeo shook his head.

“Then,” She squinted. “what did thou do?”

“I-” his gaze fell to their clasped hands. “I heard of thy death. My legs quickened.” His features crumpled up with the cowardliness soaking in. “I ran and ran out from Verona. My feet led me to trees of the north-east.” He breathed. “Without thy,” They locked eyes. “No purpose had I of breath.”

She embraced him. Without a moment's more thought, Juliet had swung her arms around the boy's back. He hooked his arms around her's in return, the two of them insisting to themselves that yes, it would all be okay.

Romeocontinued with his story. “I spent hours trampling weeds through those dark looming woods before I fell. The ground beneath me dropped and everything was encompassed by black. I awoke in a cramped stone tower, lost to the wilderness. 

“I had no clue as to who or what brought me there, other than a few huge paintings on the walls depicting a monstrous green beast with a spiked shell, and on a wooden table in the centre of the main room, there lay a piece of paper with the peculiar word ‘Bowsered’ written on it in scraggly handwriting.” His face sharpened with confused hate. Her's, only with confusion.

Romeo broke away from the hug to lock their eyes once more. “What fate befell thy?”

A darting spike of anger cursed through Juliet at that question, and she couldn’t fathom why. He cared. He cared, but it hurt still. It hurt that he didn't wake her; that he assumed her to be fragile - a sun that had set. Yet it hurt more that she was fool enough to think her plan would work at all; that they had any chance of a fairytale ending. To explain it to him would only explain her foolishness.

She told him what happened. Verona's fall, Princess Peach’s rescue plan, and her arrival here going through the same doomed woods he wished to die in. By the end of it he was speechless. He had gone far in his life and fought many strange and bewildering creatures, but the strangeness of the last few weeks - understandably - left them both in need of rest.

So there they stayed, embraced. Bracing out all pains together.

The worst pain was the loss of home.

After a while, Romeo asked softly, “Do you know of my family's health?”

Juliet's smile softened, “Yes. The princess told me all the Montagues made it safely to New York.” 

Romeo released an aching breath he didn’t know he was holding. "Thank god." He said. Then, his eyes dipped lower and he asked even more quietly, “Do you know of…Rosaline's health?”

The room froze a smidgen, as the sun was shielded out by the drifting clouds. Juliet’s throat went dry, “All of my family survived,” Her words hardened faintly, professional almost to anyone who didn't know her. “Including my cousin Rosaline.”

Romeo released a small sigh of relief. He loved Juliet more than he'd ever loved anyone. How could he not? She was day. Yet still, it wasn't long ago he saw Rosaline as a glimpse of sunlight, and he still would find himself crushed and buried by any ill news of her.

“Why do you ask specifically of her?” Juliet asked.

Romeo sucked in a breath. He knew this would be an uncomfortable conversation to have, but it was important. “Before I met you, I mistakenly thought I loved her.” 

A thin pane of glass had been chipped somewhere within Juliet.

“But not anymore.” he quickly added. “Seeing thy at the masquerade, my heart was sent into orbit around thou.”

“Sent off its previous orbit.” she corrected. “Rosaline was your first love. Your rose.”

“No, neither,” said Romeo. “She was far from my first love of course,” he smiled, “but to call her a rose would be insulting.” Juliet’s head tilted in confusion and Romeo shifted himself slightly before explaining, “It is love that is the rose. Not tender, not sweet; painful. Luring one in with its smell before cutting up one's hands on its thorns.” he relaxed further and reassured her “My love for thou was picked and handed to me without my permission.” He gripped her hands tighter, “I know it’s the strongest love I have because it's the strongest burden to hold it.” 

Juliet in that moment was the sheaf of a dagger. A dagger which usually lay dormant, now twisted suddenly. Slowly, she pronounced each word, “Your love for me is painful. You measure a rose's beauty by its thorns?” her eyebrows furrowed and she let go of his hands. She stood up and began to pace the room. 

“Pain isn't the thing I measure beauty upon.” He tried, “Beauty is the flower but love be its cutting stem. I hate to love because love is a torture.” he stated.

“Love is not torture!” she screamed from across the room. “My love for you wasn’t torture! The only pain in it was the fear of it flashing out; of getting struck by that joyous feeling and then having the storm roll on!” There was a moment of ear-splitting silence. 

She clutched the door handle and snapped the door open before facing him again, “I'm sorry that ‘rose’ is but an insult to you.”

She walked out

* * *

On her way out and down the corridors, her head began to cool and her footsteps softened. The boy in that room was a different one to who she thought she would spend the rest of her days alongside. A hope at familiarity in this place, now roughly lost.

Up ahead were two people talking. One was Toad (a strange name for a toad) and the other was Romeo’s rescuer; a somewhat short, moustachioed man with a red hat on, indoors, and red shirt to match which was worn underneath some farmer's overalls. 

Right before she could join the conversation, it had already ended with Mario walking along right past her, giving a small smile and friendly wave as he bounced. “Who was that man?” she asked Toad who seemed to roll their eyes at more questions being thrown their way. Where they this sarcastical when they met?

“That’s Mario!” Toad explained, “He’s the Princess’s ex-husband!” 

Juliet did two slow blinks like a lizard. “ex-husband?” she asked, “Standing as former?”

Toad huffed, “YES.” and rolled their eyes.

Juliet stared at Toad as her brain churned, “But she was married?” She clarified. “One can cease a marriage here?” 

“Yes! They got divorced.” Toad croaked out lightly.

“Divorced?”

* * * * *

Mario entered the bedroom to find Romeo still sitting on his bed, staring at his cupcakes miserably. He didn’t know what he was expecting but this wasn't it. Romeo had just had the first talk in a while with the love of his life, surely he must be thrilled. Yet, instead of thrilled, he looked almost the same as he did in the tower, except now more speechless?

“Are you a’feeling alright?” Mario frowned. Romeo looked up with wide eyes, red and splotchy around their edges, startled by how fast visitors could reach his room. 

“Quite,” Romeo snapped quickly and harsher than intended, “Fully fine.” He looked back down at the cupcakes. 

“Hmm,” Mario hummed sarcastically, “Can I sit down?” he gestured to the bed. Romeo nodded. So, he walked over and sat down. There was silence, but he hoped it was a comforting one for Romeo. 

Ever since the tower fell due to Mario’s recklessness, causing the man beside him to be bedridden, he's wanted nothing more than to mend Romeo’s peace of mind. This place is safe, even if it is different. He hoped this would be a good time to apologise, but maybe not. 

Mario gestured over to the cupcakes. “May I have one?” he chirped. Romeo nodded again, more hesitantly this time. After eating a cupcake Mario placed his hand on Romeo’s shoulder for comfort and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Romeo replied through a sob. He looked up to meet Mario’s eyes and felt his gut drift to his feet, “Well, in truth, many things…” He looked away. “I thought my fair sun had faded only to find she still shines - thank the lord - but she hates me - though, I'm not sure why - leaving me the sorrowed moon,” He began scratching his knuckles as he spoke, “I am an outlaw in my home city and my angel’s heart. What more is a man once he is hated by whom he loves?” Romeo sank. 

Mario sat still for a minute before answering, “The same guy as before?” Romeo gazed up at him with an eyebrow raised. Oh no, had he been too quick to answer? All these metaphors were quite dizzying. The plumber continued, “Who loves you doesn’t define you. Not completely. It’s more complicated than that.” He gazed away, and his mustache grew colder, “Who you love is a huge part of who you are though. So, I understand that you feel pain over everything. You're hurt, but - though it may feel like it - you aren't broken. Your life hasn’t broken. It’s just changed very quickly,” Mario’s eyes began to sparkle. “Maybe you can find some good in this change.” 

The two of them sat there for a bit longer, staring into each other’s eyes, neither daring to break the moment. Then Romeo smiled. “You're a good friend. Thank you.” He placed a firm pat onto the plumber's shoulder, “Would you like a second cupcake?”

Chapter Text

His pair of black overalls flared out at his ankles and swung haphazardly in the morning winds. Mario was taking him out for a stroll around the plumber's home. Romeo couldn’t believe his eyes when he first saw it. A blinding light fell upon all his exposed skin as his soul warmed in the sun. There were houses and houses connected by ivory-stone paved streets, and each home formed a Toadstool appearance. Mushroom cabins all perched upon rolling emerald grasses, with hundreds of bustling toad people, travelling to and from work, shops or cafes. It was truly a sight filled with comfort, as though being in this town meant simple local safety. But what were more grounding were Mario’s perilous stories.

“I've been living here since I was eighteen, so about six years now. Excluding that small visit here I took as a baby. I've been living in the palace for most of those years due to helping save Peach from Bowser so much and, honestly, haven't been doing too much plumbing since really.” He smiled loosely, “Well! Romeo. We've walked for several yards around these streets and, gone over my brother and battles with Bowser but, you haven't told me too much about your life.”

Romeo leaped at the subject. “Oh! We don't have to converse on such matters. It's not as full of colour as your own!” Mario grinned drawing in a long breath of air. Perhaps he was about to talk. Romeo cut him off. “See, sir plumber I-”

“Mario.” The mustached fellow fixed.

“... Mario. I want to thank you for all you've done for me. And with Verona abandoned, I'd never be able to prove it to you, but believe me, nothing worth while was born in that place.”

Mario paused, “You were born in that place.” 

Romeo halted, his gaze souly on the flowers by his boots. “In each of your stories, you've won. Running headfirst into the fight is how you've saved your friends, and your love. Yet it's brought nothing but greater and greater suffering for me.” Those flowers were looking mighty sad now.

Mario blew out a silent breath. “I'm sorry you've been so hurt.” He spoke softly. They both stood for a moment, before Mario intervened. He grabbed Romeo's wrist and excitedly pulled them both towards, and within, a shelter housing a small crowd.

It was gathered around seven toads who were all holding a variety of brass instruments. Golden trumpets, tubas and flugel horns were being played in a genre that had never before reached Romeo’s ears. It bounced. It skipped. It was so fast and joyful. Like everything Romeo had ever danced to but enhanced and enhanced again by time and practice. The tired veronian once again found he could no longer hold a smile down.

Turning to Mario, he saw that same unrefined joy radiating off his mustached friend, who smiled along with the other citizens to the bounding music.

☆☆☆☆☆

Five days had passed since Romeo first arrived at The Mushroom Kingdom, and what a kingdom it was. He was routinely surprised by the sheer grandness housed in every detail of the land. He'd been outside only a few times in the five days, and each occasion he considered never going back indoors.

Yesterday, Mario once more led him through the luxuries that the plumber somehow considered part of regular everyday life. The music the toads played outside with their joyful brass beat to it, made his heart sing and bounce around in his chest.

These thoughts stirred around unrestrained in his head while he chewed his eggs on toast. 

He was alone, sat atop a windowsill in a palace hall. The thick clear glass separated him from the morning hills. Strange how something as simple as a window can remind you of home. Yet this wasn't his home. For, his home did not have sunny green hills. His home had winding trees that crept upon fair houses. City streets where kids would play, and those same streets where duels were lost. 

Veins were opened.

Lives were extinguished.

Mercutio didn't deserve that fate.

It was Romeo that should not have denied Tybalt's request. He should have fought him first, that way things could be the same, only Mercutio could still have kept his pulse. 

The breakfast he chewed grew inedibly denser.

But he didn't. He refused to duel, knowing it would only bring Juliet pain, engaging in fights with her cousin, and Mercutio did die. Now he's gone, and Tybalt's gone, and Paris is gone, and Juliet was gone, and fair Verona is, apparently, overrun by… well by what? Demons? All due to love. It's almost comedic.

He once thought there was no world without Verona’s walls, only torture and pain. Now he's lived to see the day those walls fall, and this strange land might just be heaven. Albeit, less dull and white and more vibrantly cheerful.

Juliet was alive, though they did not speak anymore. 

Perhaps they would again one day.

Luckily, this spot was far out and unpopulated and away from where Juliet liked to walk. He saw her every now and then. Usually being talked to, or assisted by a toad working at the palace. She seemed to be adjusting to the new world much better than he was. She smiled often. He felt happy for her. 

Eating in this quiet place felt wrong; too peaceful; too comforting. It Felt as though the walls would attack at any moment. What he would give for a good fight. There were aspects he hated of battling, of course. No one enjoys pain. But the quickening of the pulse and the outrunning of thoughts were some aspects he enjoyed. Wiping grins off unrighteous faces was something he enjoyed. Correcting injustice was harmony but it all fell to regret later on. Romeo wondered briefly if this kingdom had any education involving fighting. A fight course or club. It probably didn't know anything about pain, being too happy and innocent for that, which somehow irked him more. 

The hallway was silent, it had been for hours, except for one barely noticeable creak. Romeo turned from the window to the ajar door down the hall. Was it Toad?No light shone from it. Wasn't he alone? There was no reason for fear.

The hairs on his neck slowly rose as goosebumps unravelled down his arms. He put his plate down under the sunlight and stepped closer to the mystery. 

Romeo was always fond of mystery, even if chasing it for so long landed him in a bizarre mushroom world. 

Hand shaking, he pushed on the golden doornob. The smell of dust echoed out from the pitch-black room. ‘Was this perhaps a bad idea?’ he almost mused aloud, as he stepped further into the darkness. The air in his lungs began to rot. It whispered to his mind images of old eggs and dog’s breath in the dark. Every step echoed against the polished wood, until Romeo felt something soft under his shoe. It was hidden in the darkness, so he continued onward, actively ignoring it, but altogether failing. 

Eventually there was a sight. Light blue shone from behind a corner. A shadow against it was of a man. Romeo squinted as his stomach churned. The shadow had some curly hair, a fairly square jawline, and it was hunched over, occupied with something fidgety.

Then it froze. The shadow twitched slightly, attention drawn. Romeo turned as slowly and noiselessly as he could. The open door was in sight and he was leaving. But he couldn’t. Wood choked behind him and he began to look back. Down came the sharp sound of a metal pipe.

Romeo opened his eyes and recognised the ceiling. He was back in his room. Looking around, it still seemed peaceful. The pinker sunlight through the window would suggest some time had passed since breakfast. He remembered everything about that dark room, but his head still buzzed from the hit. If whoever was inside knocked him out, who placed him in his own room again? The door opened, and out stepped two toads. One of them was Toad - the one who rudely told him he was alive - the other was someone new. Standing shier, they had pigtails dangling over their shoulders from their pink mushroom.

“Hey!” Toad gravelled, “We found you sleeping in a hallway!”

“In a hallway?” Romeo repeated.

“That’s what I just said.” Toad stated, annoyed, “Very odd place to take a nap, so we brought you here.” 

They turned and whispered in the other toad’s ear. The pink-shroomed toad spoke in a higher pitch than Toad did, but their timbre still contained an element of gravel, “Hi! Nice to meet you! I'm Toadette.” 

Romeo blinked thrice, like a lizard. Higher pitched voice, feminine sounding name, and seemingly kinder are all elements that might suggest to this toad being a lady toad. Should he assume she's a lady? Should he ask? Or would that be rude? Romeo asked rather hesitantly, “Are you a lady toad? Do your people have men and women?” 

Toad was the one to answer with a laugh, “Of course we have men and women! We have over 13,000 different genders!”

Romeo’s jaw fell in shock, and Toadette awkwardly cut in with her news, “Princess Peach is going to host a party soon, and you're invited!” They smiled, “There'll be pastries and donuts … oh! Yes! And cake!” 

♡♡♡♡♡

Despite being there quite a few weeks, Juliet had only seen her rescuer a handful of times. 

The first time, Juliet had only just woken up, gotten dressed and left her room when Peach was there standing right outside her door. “Oh dear!” The princess exclaimed richly, her hand flying up to cover her mouth, “Terribly sorry! I meant to knock!” she chuckled. She proceeded to help Juliet around the palace, explaining the different corridors, doors adorned with golden stars and said that if Juliet ever needed her help with anything, she'd be there.

The second time, Juliet went out for a walk through Toad Town. The large mushroom houses on either side of the street reflected the sunlight a bit too harshly for her eyes. Luckily, in the distance atop a small hill overlooking a green field, there sat a pink parasol resting on the princess’s shoulder. Juliet walked over and asked what the field was for. Peach introduced to her the game of golf, and told her how to play. Juliet then asked questions, both out of interest and an indescribable yearn for small talk. To these questions, the princess somehow found more amusement than there actually was.

The third time was at night. The night after her disagreement with Romeo. Juliet couldn't force herself to sleep, not with her mind spinning circles between numerous and pointless topics. After a few hours with no luck, Juliet decided to sit up, stand up, and walk out of her room. 

Juliet had always been a little bit afraid of the night, of darkness, of ghosts. This was another occasion of that fear showing itself. She knew it would, but she was equally not in the mood for another sleepless night of lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. Arguing with herself about this or that was an activity she simply couldn't do given the recent… everything. Strangely, this place felt different from others at night in terms of fear factor. It could be haunted, but surprisingly the thought wasn't so bad. The ghosts here might echoe everything else, being cute and kind, perchance. 

Rounding a corner, Juliet caught a glimpse of her. Lit faintly on either side of her face by wall-torches which cast two different shadows across the wooden floor of the vast dark room. In front of the princess stood a wooden dummy with several indents and scratches. Peach leaned her head back and released a sigh. Then, in a spark of time, she landed a heavy blow against the dummy with her pink parasol. Then another and another. Each hit echoed in a stampede along the walls. Juliet didn’t stray her eyes, aside from flinching twice at the louder and more powerful hits. 

The show ended with a bang, when the parasol was cut over halfway through the dummy, which slowly fell like a tree, causing another clamour on its landing.

Peach stood mouth wide and breathing heavily. She turned and Juliet could see her face shimmer with sweat. Eyes widened with exhaustion, before haste flooded in. She locked eyes with her host's embarrassment. Embarrassment. That's what it was, and what an unusual face it was on the woman. “Did you?” Peach began, before words failed her, and she cleared her throat. “Sorry.” she spoke earnestly. “Why are you here?” 

“I simply could not sleep.” Juliet answered immediately. A prepared answer, which filled the space with more awkwardness.

Peach looked past Juliet’s eyes as she thought for a second. She shook herself out of it, “Why couldn't you sleep?” 

Juliet let out a sound between an engine and a sigh before answering, “All things really. Just… continuous ambushing thoughts.” She shrugged.

Peach’s eyebrows tensed with this new information. Both good and bad information. Helpful information. “That’s terrible. I deal with that sometimes.” she nodded.

Juliet’s attention dashed over the dummy again. 

“There’s a pretty easy fix for me,” Peach stepped closer until there was barely any distance between them, “It might help you.” Her gaze softened with a smile, “Come along.” 

Peach led Juliet down the halls to the castle's library, and handed her a book. Since then, there's been books in her room. Many in fact. Juliet read nightly and seemed to slumber perfectly fine since. But a part of her was annoyed by that fact. She hadn't seen the princess since and given a choice between time spent asleep or talking to Princess Peach, she would certainly choose to catch up.

Time spun on. Three or four days really since Romeo and Juliet’s love had withered. Not impossible to save, just a garden left unattended for too long. At least, that's what she keeps repeating to herself. Their relationship will mend and heal with time like all things do. This was just a hiccup; A cough in a symphony. It had to be. 

Sometimes she passed the large room she saw the princess in most recently, believing for a second that the sight might reappear, and she could speak more properly this time. But alas, that did not happen. 

One evening, Juliet wandered around in search of novelty. She went up and up the red carpeted stairs, noticing less and less toads with each increase. Quieter, with fluffy clouds and winds making most of the noise behind the tall windows and outer walls. She strolled through another hall and passed a whispering door. The door itself didn’t whisper, but whoever was behind it certainly did.

Juliet stood there unsure of what she could or could not do for a long while. A few minutes went by, and she was starting to get bored. At first a tiny voice inside her said to open the door, but that voice was silenced and hadn't spoken up again since. She was just about to leave and explore elsewhere, when a group of wise old toads came tumbling up the stairs, chattering to one another. 

When they saw her, they jumped but their surprise fled almost immediately. They opened the door she was listening next to and ushered her in first before following after her. Juliet stumbled getting in.

The room was very large. As large as the further downstairs and emptier room she saw Peach in last, but this one was more fit for royalty than late night training. Peach was there at the other side of the tall room. She stood dark against the bright multicoloured daylight flooding in behind her. It streaming from a huge stained-glass window - of churchlike pointed shape - depicting a side-on view of the princess herself, surrounded by roses.

The princess gave a small curtsey to both the wise toads and Juliet as they entered. A fleeting surpise washed over her before she appeared seemingly unbothered by Juliet’s presence.

The small toad beside her who had pink pigtails and must have been who Peach was whispering to before, gave their own curtsey and scuttled off to the side of the room. In the centre of the space was a large circular bronze table with many tall chairs perched around it, now being filled by the toads. Peach took the spare time to politely glare at Juliet. “Can you still not sleep?” she asked, smiling halfheartedly.

Juliet felt herself scowl. How dare this princess?

Once everyone was seated, except Juliet who stood to the side like Toadette - seatless - and except Peach who stood beside the table regardless of her privileged fancy bronze chair towering over the others, the meeting began. 

Peach cleared her throat. “Good evening counselors. As we know, on the 28th of November 1594, the land of Verona was attacked by an army of unknown monsters intent on killing as many humans as possible. Given the horror of the event, news spread fast.” The princess spoke like a sophisticated general. “And as not just a protector of this land, but also as someone who's been unwillingly taken from land to land many times, and has willingly saved many of those places,” she took a breath, “I felt it was the only choice to extend a hand to our neighbors.”

The toads murmured among themselves, a touch confused. “That’s not the reason for this meeting, Princess Toadstool,” one aged and crackly voice called out. “No one blames you for toad lives lost in the fight. It was the right decision to send aid. We're more worried about the prophecy.” 

Some toads nodded and hummed in agreement. Peach’s eyebrows furrowed. “What prophecy?” 

“The one Merlumina wrote on a paper found in Verona.” A wise toad said, “It made it way back here and, well, it's caused quite the gossip. She had written that: ‘Vengeance will sneak into Mushroom Kingdom.’”

Peach blinked twice, like the flicker of a fire at unexpected air. “Huh. I don’t know anything about this.”

“Could it be Bowser?” Another wise voice spoke, “We know he can do magic. He could've been the one to send the ink army. Surely whoever sent them is going to sneak in here.”

Peach spoke mostly to herself, “It is true he keeps sneaking in here, and those monsters were obviously made from magic. They were soulless, weightless. They must have been casted, as with most magic, using an artifact, meaning one person is to blame for that war. We know all of this. I've known all of this for a while now. But Bowser was busy kidnapping Romeo at the time and has seemed, if anything, less vengeful in recent years,  so I doubt it's him.”

The room held a quiet murmur. “Could it mean Romeo?” Heads turned to face the voice, “He must have been angry about Juliet’s death and his family had a long rivalry with the Capulets.” The idea sank in.

A toad in front of where Juliet stood shared another fact, “Sometimes artefacts make their way to the humans, and they don't fully know how to use them. I doubt the horror of the ink monsters was intentional. No one is that cold hearted.”

A toad to the right of Peach added, “But whoever cast them might then feel guilty, and that repressed guilt could fester into a deluded sense of injustice. If they still had the magic artefact, they might create more ink creatures in an act of revenge. Here in our home.” 

There was more murmuring. 

Juliet’s stomach flipped. They were seriously considering Romeo? He would never summon those creatures. And if he did, he would never go more than ten minutes of keeping it a secret. The thought almost made her laugh. Another stupid idea was about to get squashed. She turned to Peach. 

Outlined with the red of the pink window in the evening, Peach stood there... different. Juliet saw it. A fire behind Peach’s blue eyes, that wasn't there while watching golf or fighting dummies, it was a fire of efficiency. Juliet had seen it before in her life. Parents, suitors, servants, warriors; each looking to win.

The princess was considering the most efficient solution. Were the counselors' words right? If it was Romeo, would that story quiet people's fears the most? Peach’s mouth opened and Juliet knew whatever sound left it could make or break life. It could make or break Romeo’s life. She couldn't stand for it.

“IT’S NOT ROMEO!” Juliet cried out. Everyone's attention turned on her, including Peach’s shock at the outburst. “If Romeo did it!… then he would have said something!” Her palms stung as her fingernails stabbed down deeper. 

Toadette made their way around the room and stood beside her with concern. “Mrs Montague-”

“I'm not Mrs Montague!” Juliet declared with finality, “I've been Juliet Capulet my whole life, the same life sharing a city with Romeo Montague! I may not have known him directly for much of it, but in recent times he has denied fights and has accepted banishment with dignity. He is not the one who summoned demons onto our land! He would rather sulk than take vengeance! Rather die than even consider hurting others! Because he is kind!” 

No one said much after that.

After the meeting, the wise toads went on their way home and Juliet made her way down a few flights of stairs before footsteps behind her creaked the carpeted wood. “Wait.” Peach called out, voice level; a demand she expected followed. So, Juliet - still irritated - waited. Not until Peach was right behind her did she try turning around.

In a flair of  actions, she suddenly found herself held by Peach's grip on her wrist, pressing it - and her - against the wall. The princess’s eyes didn't waver. She spoke softly against Juliet’s face with a curiosity that warmed her breath, “What was all that about?” 

Juliet, not for the first time, was at a loss for words, “All of what?”

“Well, to name a few things,” Peach said, “Walking around the upper floors of the castle, making yourself at home in a private meeting, and then snapping at those in attendance, who were actually invited.” her voice sounded peeved but the small upwards tilt of her lips suggested otherwise.

“I did not consider how walking around was apparently off limits.” Juliet scoffed, “So, excuse me Princess Peach,” she glared, “or was it Toadstool?” 

Juliet held that glare for a while, neither of them daring to break the silence.

Peach asked, “You do know that they might now be wondering if you're this sneaky vengeance, don't you?” The smile was more obvious now, “I heard you and Romeo had a row. Yet you're still in the mood to put your neck out for him?"

Juliet shook from her grip, “Unlike some, I'm not in the mood to sentence an innocent man as guilty over speculation,” She looked the princess up and down. “Also, I love him.”

Peach returned the same scanning gesture, albeit with a slower trail. A greater curiosity sparked in her eyes. Juliet couldn't cope with it. She pushed away from the walk and stormed off, leaving Peach staring motionless after her.