How did it come to this? Was the only thought that was running in Ella’s mind as she looked at the scene before her, eyes blurry from the angry torrents of rain. The angry sea of mobs was divided mostly by two colors; the red, enraged Capulets and the blue, shouting Montague.
The kingdom guards stood in the center like a wall, but they could barely hold up against these emotional people. Even Prince Escalus himself was here, but even the presence of a royal was not enough to deter a brewing fight.
She looked at the side to see a pair of a young couple laying side by side, hands loosely clasped in each other. They looked peaceful, lying close together. It would have been romantic, were they not currently in a freaking crypt.
Also if the two of them were currently breathing.
She wasn’t sure if the shaking of her hands was caused by the cold rain or something else.
The shouting was making her ears ring. The rain shows no signs of stopping. Juliet hated getting drenched.
But Juliet wasn’t breathing. Oh God. They weren’t breathing, and the people just kept on shouting.
“Romeo… Juliet…” Ella whispered, eyeing a dagger that was lying close to the couple and praying that the small streak of red in its blade was purely her imagination. Even so, she couldn’t prevent the sense of dread spreading to her chest. “What the fuck have you done?”
Five days before the civil pandemonium
It’s already late in the afternoon, Benvolio noted, heaving out a frustrated sigh as his dear cousin continued to wail by his side. He had found the young man slumped by a grove of sycamore trees, and now he wished he had just left him there earlier instead.
"Romeo, shut up before I actually throw you out of the window. It’s been almost four hours. You're being ridiculous."
"Ah, Rosaline!" Romeo moaned in despair. "My lovely Rosaline, does my undying love not earn a place in your heart? Does my passion not prove my sincerity?"
"Heavens above, stop it— you're making my head hurt!" Benvolio exclaimed, rubbing his temples. "You met the girl for, like, a day and you already want to prostrate yourself to the ground and offer your body for her to walk on?"
"That's because you never experienced such strong feelings of love, dear cousin," Romeo waved his hand dismissively. "You could never understand such strong emotions that would render you helpless and in complete devotion to the object of your affection," he murmured softly, his fist tightening in his lap.
"And I certainly hope to never feel at any time in the future," Benvolio muttered. Romeo was a nice companion most of the time, but he tends to get... overly emotional, and Benvolio always ended up being the one to listen to him moan about it.
In short: it was a fucking nightmare.
"Anyway, where is everyone?" Benvolio asked, noticing the absence of some of their family members.
"Huh? Oh, they were called to the palace by Prince Escalus. Another fight broke out between the Capulets, I heard."
Oh, that. Benvolio couldn’t help but mentally wince. Yeah, there was that fight in the street that morning. In his defence, he did try breaking the fight, but he just wasn’t expecting Tybalt Capulet , of all people, to arrive later.
After that, well. . . Benvolio believed that there was no need for further description. After all, it ended up with a summons from the prince of Verona. The last time Benvolio saw the young prince, he looked as if he wanted to pull his hair off.
Romeo continued to whine pathetically, and Benvolio had just had enough of it. "Come on," he pulled his cousin by the arm. "Let's go downtown. Maybe we can find you something to take your mind off of Rosalie." He chose to ignore Romeo's indignant "Her name's Rosaline !" and quickly went outside the manor. If he listened for another half an hour of crying, he might actually set himself on fire.
Ella grunted as she tried to balance her basket in her hand while clutching a big parcel of bread with the other, their scent and heat saying that they’re fresh out of the oven. Her dear stepmother had specifically instructed her to return by three, but she could barely see the road past her basket. She idly wondered what her stepmother would do if she got home late. Probably make her skip dinner.
Well, screw her.
She huffed as she finally positioned the bag right, sweat beading on her forehead at the dry, afternoon sun, and started walking down the uneven cobbled pathway—only to bump into something and land painfully and ungracefully to the ground.
"Shit, ow," Ella couldn’t help the curse word from escaping her mouth as she massaged her lower back.
"Please watch where you're going!" the person she bumped into exclaimed, and isn't that nice ? He was the one who had bumped into her , and he had the guts to tell her to watch where she was going? Oh, hohoho— she very much wanted to slap the guy.
"Romeo!" a guy with sandy-brown hair panted as he jogged toward the rude man. His eyes landed on her, and his eyebrows rose, "Oh my god, are you alright?"
Before she could answer, Mr. Rude-guy started walking away with his head down and shoulders slumped. Wow, the guy's a total gentleman , wasn't he?
The sandy-haired man looked at Ella and the quickly retreating back of his companion, muttered a quick apology, and started running towards the guy. Ella sat there for a few seconds, eyes wide as she watched the retreating pair, before she stood up and dusted herself off.
She looked down at her things. The contents in the basket seemed relatively safe, but the bread was on the floor, and the bottom of the paper bag was ripped. She had no change left to buy another batch. She sighed in defeat. Maybe they wouldn't notice it.
. . . Yeah, right .
She continued her trek to one of the older and larger houses near the outskirts of Verona, fenced with low hedges and surrounded by blooming flowers of different colors. Ella could already smell the roses in full bloom as she opened the back gate and entered the kitchen, setting the basket on the wooden table. Maxx, the old family dog, barked in welcome and wagged his tail at her. Ella laughed and petted the dog on its ears.
She then heard the obnoxious sound of bells ringing from the main part of the house, signalling that her stepfamily was looking for her, followed by them calling her name from where she believed was the second floor. Ella rolled her eyes and went up the stairs, finding all three of them in Camilla's—the eldest of the two daughters—room, throwing clothes everywhere. Her eyebrows shot up as she looked at the dress-covered room and decided against commenting.
Camilla spotted her first. "Oh great, you're here." She continued throwing clothes from her closet in frustration. "Hurry, help us with this."
"Sorry, but I'm not really sure what I should do here."
"The Capulets will be throwing a party tonight," Karina answered distractedly, practically diving into the large pile of colorful clothes on the floor. "I heard this one was more special since they wanted to celebrate their daughter's engagement as well. They invited all of the powerful families in the city, and we would not let this chance slip by."
A ball? Ella looked outside the window, where she could see the red outline of the roof of the Capulets' manor. It would, no doubt, be a grand one, especially since it is in honor of the family's only daughter. The whole populace of Verona is probably looking forward to it.
She blinked at the thought and shrugged. Nah, not really her thing.
"Indeed, girls," their mother, Lady Seraphina, nodded. "This ball will be of great chance to find you both suitable husbands of high status and wealth, and so you must prepare yourself the best way possible." She looked at Ella with her nose high in the air, "You. You are to help them prepare for the ball tonight. Make sure that they look their best for it."
Ella looked at the three of them. Her stepmother, despite getting there in age, looked as youthful as a young woman in her early thirties, with her silver-streaked curls pinned securely in her head, letting the long strands frame her face. Most people would probably mistake her for a younger lady. Her daughters, particularly Camilla, however. . .
Eyebrows too thick, nose too flat, and lips that looked like they were in a permanent state of smug grin—oh, wait, that was probably more on her personal bias. But still . And didn’t Karina just turn 15?
"Sure," she shrugged at her. Good thing she's done with her chores then.
Camilla ran out of the room as soon as Ella agreed, shouting about some lucky hairbrush. Karina was practically squirming in her seat, ready for her updo. Ella shook her head and went to work. By evening, the whole room smelled of hairspray and makeup; it would probably explode if someone were to do as much as light a matchstick.
"Hurry up, hurry up!" Karina whined as she looked at her reflection.
"Relax, you still have at least an hour before the party starts," Ella put down the hairspray bottle and comb at the dresser. She looked at Karina's long and thick red hair before nodding to herself. She then started twisting it into intricate twists and curls, making the younger girl look as if she were wearing a crown as she excitedly babbled about the party, how grand it would be, and how she would meet her future husband there.
"Oh, it will be magical, I bet!" Karina exclaimed, and Ella couldn't help but smile. Out of her three stepfamily members, Karina was more often than not sweet to her, even if a little bossy. She, at least, never tried to add more to Ella's chores.
"I bet it will," she agreed as she put the last of the pins on. There, all done. Ella nodded with herself in satisfaction and noticed Karina looking at her. "What?"
Karina looked a little worried, biting her lower lip. "You—" she cleared her throat. "You're not upset about being left here? I mean, don't you want to go to the party as well?"
"No, not really," Ella answered honestly. "It would be nice to have the house for myself for a few hours." Karina looked a bit relieved at that, though she still looked quite unsure. "Go have fun and hunt for that future husband of yours," Ella told the girl, making her laugh and snort.
When they heard Seraphina shouting, Karina quickly ran out of the room towards the carriage waiting outside the gates. Before she went inside, Seraphina turned and gave Ella a stern look. “Do not let anyone in the house,” she hissed. “If I find anything, anything, missing, scratched, or destroyed, I will have you pay the total damages.”
“ I lived here, too,” Ella hissed in reply, but her stepmother only gave her a smug look before climbing inside the carriage. Ella watched the carriage go before getting inside the house. How dare she. How dare she.
“Arrgh!” Ella kicked a broken pail hard, hitting the old well. “That. . . That old witch ,” she growled as she started pacing around the well. “Feeling like you own this place, are you? What gave you the right? It’s my house! It’s my father’s house!” She was panting hard, her throat starting to hurt after shouting. She sat at the edge of the well, the corner of her eyes starting to sting as her view blurred. She hadn’t cried in so long after her father’s. . .
“Mother... Father...” she whispered in a small voice as tears fell down her cheeks. She’s already sixteen, and she has already promised herself that she will never break down again, especially in front of her stepfamily.
Right now, though, she’s alone, and she just missed her parents so, so much. The nippy, cold night air just made her feel even worse as she rubbed her arms, remembering the last hugs she had from her parents.
“What seems to be the matter, dear?”
Ella jumped in surprise, practically jumping away from the well lest she actually fall. By the pumpkin patch, partially covered by the dark of night, she noticed an old woman in an old, tattered cloak and a wooden staff.
How did she end up here in the first place?! She could have sworn she locked the back gate earlier.
"Um," she tried to rub the streaks of tears on her face and peek through the dirty cloak the old woman wore. "Are you alright, ma'am?"
The woman shifted and raised her sharp, blue-green eyes at her, alert and full of life. "Oh, oh! I'm fine, dear, just fine!" she waved her gnarly hand at her. "Don't you mind me here, just sitting here admiring your pumpkin patch!" The old woman cackled.
One of Ella's eyebrows rose. "O. . . kay." She didn’t look dangerous, but this woman was getting more suspicious.
"Actually!" Ella jumped at the woman's sudden exclamation. "I could use some water for a drink. It's been such a hot day, and my throat's parched." The woman looked at her expectedly.
"But there's a well over there," Ella pointed to her. "Didn't you see it on your way here?"
The old woman blinked at that, looking surprised. "Ah, I. . . guess I haven't seen it." Ella tilted her head a bit. She continued looking at the woman, who had been eyeing her and the pail she was holding. Oh.
"Um, wait," Ella grabbed a clean bowl from the kitchen and filled it with water, giving it to the old woman. The woman gratefully accepted it and chugged it.
"Thank you, dear," the woman said, returning the bowl. "You're such a sweet child!" Then, to Ella's shock, the woman stood up straight and shook her head, parting her graying hair from her face. "Shall we get started, then?"
“ Start what?” Ella started to ask, but right then a white light surrounded the woman, covering her from head to foot. Soon, the dirty-looking old woman turned into a beautiful lady wearing a flowing white dress, with long, silky, straight hair. Ella stood there gaping as the old-turned-young beautiful lady cracked her neck in a satisfying pop.
"Well, that was uncomfortable," the lady commented as he stretched her neck. "I really hate disguising myself like that, it's a terror for the back and neck."
"Then why did you?" Ella asked. Why force yourself to do something if you don't like it?
"Well, it's more mysterious that way!" She looked at Ella expectantly, but the girl only stared at her. "So! Shall we get to it?" the lady asked as the silence continued.
"Again, start what? Wait, actually, who are you?"
The glittering lady positively hopped in surprise, "Oh! Oh dear, silly me, I forgot to introduce myself!" She shook her shoulders lightly, and a translucent pair of wings appeared behind her, flapping and making her hover in the air. "I am Titania, the Fairy Queen, and I am here to help you answer your dreams, my dear!”
Ella gaped at the sight. “Or actually,” Titania added, “I'm just a temporary substitute as the fairy assigned to you as your godmother came down with a cold, and I am so bored with nothing to do, so I volunteered today!"
She clapped her hands together, looking at Ella with an excited gleam. "Now, that's settled, we gotta get you moving if we want you to arrive not any later!"
Ella was shaken from her dazed state. She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but you haven't explained to me yet what it is we are supposed to be doing? And why would I be late? Where?"
"Why, to the grand party held by the Capulets, of course! We will be tight on schedule, but no worries, sweetie! I could conjure you up beautifully in no time!" Titania clapped her hands again, and a shimmer of light covered Ella.
"Whoa whoa wait, slow down there, um. . . Your Highness, but I had no intention of going to that party!" She busily swatted the lights away, the powdery glitters making her cough, and so did not notice the Fairy Queen's gaping at her.
"Wh—but why would you say that?!" The fairy looked like she was having trouble understanding her statement, her mouth opening and closing like she didn't know what to say next, her eyes large.
"Because—damn it, what is this glittering thing?—I don't really have an interest in going," Ella swatted the remaining shimmering lights and huffed a breath. The fairy continued looking at her, stunned.
"I'm sorry, I'm having a hard time understanding this. Why would you not be interested in attending such a grand event? All of Verona's looking forward to it!"
"Yeah, I kinda get the idea, but I'm still not going."
"Do you have any reason why you are not inclined to attend such an event?" She was now looking at Ella with a worried look. Ella merely shrugged.
"Do you have any reason why I should?"
Titania raised her arms in disbelief, "It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! To enjoy the grand luxuries to be provided, to enjoy the company of others, to find your romance amidst the people behind the masquerade! Besides, didn't you want to get away from your stepfamily for a few hours?"
"I am doing that right now." Ella shook her head. "If I go there, they'll just see me, and that's the furthest thing from getting away from them. And I'm not interested in going."
"Oh, but such a problem could be solved with a simple spell!" Titania clapped her hands again, gleefully.
"No, wait, I told you I—Uwaaah!" Ella coughed as more shimmering lights covered her entirely, the Fairy Queen laughing and rubbing her hands together, eager to get started.
"Damn, the Capulets really outdid themselves with this one!"
Benvolio nodded in agreement to his friend Mercutio's statement. The Grand manor of the Capulet family seemed to be glistening, the lights from the chandelier making the stone pillars glow in such beauty that it reminded him of a fairy tale. The scent of flowers and expensive perfumes wafted through the air as guests in expensive suits and evening gowns poured through the large door, the fragrance so thick that it was clogging.
Mercutio guided him and the still-moping Romeo to the side, eyeing the people attending to make sure their covers worked. They really wouldn't like any Capulet to recognize them, especially not in their territory.
Now, how did they get into this mess? Well, when it was apparent that Romeo would continue moping even after hours of walking in town, Benvolio was left with no more ideas. He was biting his thumb in worry when Mercutio found them. After Benvolio told him of his cousin's problems, a messenger from the Capulet family announced that there would be a party and invited almost everyone in the city. Mercutio was then hit with an idea.
Frankly, Benvolio thought it was more of a bad idea than anything.
"A few gulps of good wine would do well for his troubles. And who knew? Maybe he'll find someone there to help him forget this girl," Mercutio said with a wink.
And so Benvolio allowed himself to be convinced into gatecrashing a Capulet Family's celebration, and good heavens, Romeo better appreciate what he's doing for him and cheer up, or he'll strangle him.
Mercutio wasted no time and grabbed two glasses of champagne. "Come on, gentlemen, why the long faces? The night's young, and the hearts yearn for the sweet nectar for the pleasure of a lovely companion to ride the time!"
Benvolio was reminded of how much he hates his friend whenever he tried to be poetic. Mercutio merely laughed at the flat look directed at him.
Mercutio, with a glass in his hand, approached any woman he saw, holding their hands and almost getting into their personal space. Most of them quickly walked out, with one particular lovely girl with dark blond hair and a light blue dress looking like she was about to punch him in the face if it weren't for the fanfare announcing Lord Capulet and his family's arrival.
The people started clapping, and Benvolio pulled Romeo and Mercutio close to the wall after seeing more Capulets arriving by the minute. His eyes found Tybalt at the bottom of the staircase, where the Lord of the House was standing, and he kept himself from groaning. The guy's probably the most hostile and short-tempered Capulet there is. Why did he agree with this again?
Without really looking where they're going, they accidentally elbowed one of the guests, who then elbowed another man, causing some of his drink to fall into Romeo's face, making him fall down.
"Romeo! Are you alright?" Mercutio exclaimed, and Benvolio smacked him. Did he forget that they were gatecrashing here?
He looked around and noticed that everyone was busy applauding to see or hear the accident. That was a relief. Mercutio helped Romeo up.
"We are so sorry, my Lord. It was our fault, we were not looking on our path," Benvolio offered as he looked up to the. . . really tall stranger.
"No worries there, laddie! Shoulda watched me surroundings better," the tall, lanky stranger laughed. The guy wore a mask that covered the upper part of his face, his complexion too pale. There was also a weird object poking beside his head. . . was that a pointy ear?
The stranger just waved them goodbye as he navigated through the crowd. Benvolio squinted in his direction. A foreign visitor, maybe? He never knew anyone who was that tall, and he knows most of the people in Verona.
He shrugged, dismissing it, and looked at Romeo, who was now standing stiff with his eyes wide and his mouth gaping slightly.
"Romeo? Are you alright?" He waved a hand in front of his face, but the man didn't even blink. He looked at Mercutio, who shrugged his shoulders, not sure himself.
"Benvolio."
"What?"
"I. . . I think I'm. . ."
"You're what?"
"I. . . I think I'm in love."
He shared a look with Mercutio at that statement. He's what now? He looked back at his cousin and noticed that he was already smiling widely, his cheeks a soft touch of red, eyes practically glowing in awe as he looked up at the grand staircase.
Right at the sole young daughter of Lord Capulet.
Benvolio's not sure who he wanted to smack first, Romeo or himself