The lover of Mercutio

Chapter 4 - Dreamers often lie

Mercutio practiced prancing around his room, watching as the sun lazily drifted down over the city. The sky was painted with all of the colours he could think of, and yet strangely he found no beauty there - he was thinking of Vita's face. For nothing could compare to the strange beauty that lay in her sparkling eyes and vicious tongue. He craved to see her again, but alas, he was going to the Capulet ball. He imagined what it would be like if Vita had snuck into the ball as much as he and the Montague boys were, dressed in fineries and wearing a mask. He would sweep her across the floor and they would nearly float as they danced the night away...

"Ah, you fool, think! She is but a crafter's daughter! What would she know of dancing and courting..." he mused, checking his soft-soled dancing shoes. Shaking his head, he looked over the garments that Vita had dropped off earlier that week - admiring the quality of the fabric, the neatness of the stitches, the softness of the trim - 

"Ah! What is this?" Mercutio tutted, holding his finger as it blossomed with a drop of blood. There was a sewing tack still within the trim of the hose! "She must of sewn it then - with the intention to cause discomfort. But I will not be dissuaded! If anything, this proves that she thinks of me!"

Carefully pulling the tack out of the garment, he inspected the rest of the clothes. He found no less than three more sewing tacks carefully hidden away. After placing them delicately on a nearby table, he dressed himself in his garb, then pinned the tacks along the neck of his tunic - he would wear them with pride and keep them a reminder of Vita's thoughts - good or bad. For his adoration - nay, love - of her, was something too precious and tender to let out of his thoughts for even a second. 

He danced around his chambers as the lights dimmed, letting the shine of the moon bathe him in her chaste and delicate light.

"My lord Mercutio, your companions Lord Benvolio and Lord Romeo are here for you sir," a servant called from the doorway.

"Tell them I will be down soon, for I am nearly ready!" Mercutio crowed, placing the final touches of rouge on his lips and cheeks, to cover the fact that he hadn't slept well. Despite the fact that he would be wearing a mask, he still did not wish to appear gaunt. 

Grabbing his mask, he galavanted down through his manor, arriving in the court yard where Benvolio and Romeo were waiting.

"Ah my friends, are you prepared for tonight? For I am ready to dance the night away!" Mercutio sang, dancing around his friends and pulling at their hands, as if to dance with them.

"Mercutio, Romeo does not feel that this is a proper idea to be going tonight, for he is sure that we will be caught!" Benvolio teased, joining Mercutio in his silly jaunt.

"That is not my reason - I am weighed down by the arrow of love that Cupid has pierced my heart with, so much that my heart cannot bear!" Romeo lamented, pulling his hands away from his friends and grabbing a nearby torch to light their way. "Let me carry the light, for I am not going to dance tonight"

Mercutio looked at his friend in disbelief and humour - what a way to be. To pine so much after a love that cannot be yours, but instead of challenging that obstacle and overcoming it by any means, he admits defeat and resigns to depression. He was looking at it all wrong! He should be breaking through all of the barriers, thinking of his love every moment and attempting ways to see beyond what stops it, but what can carry it forwards into the bright future!

"Oh Romeo, you're a lover! Don't think of love as a weight, but as a way to fly above it all and soar! This party will serve as a chance for you to see that there is more to this than lamenting in your sorrows!" Mercutio vowed, wrapping his arm around Romeo's shoulders.

"Ah my friend, but I had a dream last night that we should not go - that misfortune awaits us," Romeo replied.

"And I had a dream last night too."

"Ah, and what was it pray tell?"

"That dreamers often lie."

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Vita stood at the door of Lady Rosaline's chambers, waiting to see how she liked the new dress that Vita had been slaving over for the last day. She had made sure to make it as flattering as possible, since her father told her that ladies were especially gracious with their coin when they looked better than they actually were. 

"Oh Vita, this is simply stunning! I could not have asked for a better garment! You are a god-send!" Rosaline cried. Vita stood patiently as Rosaline walked out of her dressing room and paraded around like a peacock. Vita admired her work with pride, as she had made a plain looking woman seem like a goddess, the navy blue bringing out her warm brown hair. 

"My lady, it was my pleasure. I am happy to see that you are pleased," Vita acknowledged, bowing slightly.

"My dear, what have I said! You are to call me Rosaline!" the lady laughed, spinning around. 

"Yes, Rosaline." 

"Oh Vita, I must simply hire you! You would do so well to be my personal seamstress, and I would pay dearly for your services!" Rosaline asked, standing in front of Vita with a look of pleading in her eyes.

Vita recognised that perhaps all was not well with Rosaline. She seemed anxious to hire Vita, as if she needed more than just a seamstress. Maybe she was lacking company? Rosaline's maid was old and nearly deaf, and Vita recalled that as she was walking through the manor, there was barely anyone else within. 

"I would have to ask my father, however I would be happy to make you your dresses and alter your existing ones. Possibly every few weeks I can show you the latest fabrics and make you some new garments?" Vita offered, thinking that this could be how she is able to get her family's business more well known amongst the lords and ladies of Verona - perhaps even beyond. 

"Oh Vita I am delighted! You will be welcome in my manor, and I will tell all my friends of your talents!" Rosaline beamed, giving Vita kisses on the cheek. Ignoring Vita's startled expression, she turned towards the window, gazing across the city. "Oh look! It is some young men travelling towards the ball! My, I wonder who they are," Rosaline mused, leaning on the balcony.

Vita approached Rosaline, internally wondering whether Rosaline needed a friend more than a seamstress. Depending on how well Rosaline paid her, she might be willing to oblige. Looking down to where the group of young men were walking, Vita started. She recognised the styles and fabric that those young men were wearing - it was the Montague boys! And Mercutio as well! A small flash of light caught her eye on Mercutio's tunic. It took Vita a few moments to realise that they were the sewing tacks that she had left in the garments. 

Why would he wear them so proudly on his chest, as if they were badges of honour won in battle? They were meant to provide ample evidence that she had rebuffed him - or were they?

"Vita my dear, it is getting close to the ball, and I must be leaving," Rosaline spoke, pulling Vita from her thoughts.

"Ah, yes Rosaline, I will see you soon then? Perchance to make some more gowns for you to impress Romeo?" Vita questioned.

"Of course my dear! Actually, perhaps you could come by on the morrow and look through my current gowns - see if any are worth their fabric."

Vita nodded and bid Rosaline farewell. As Vita left the manor, she could see the glow from the party bathe the surrounding buildings along the street. Whilst she did not wish to be there, she still wondered what sort of things would be happening there, what occurred in the dark corners and balconies, what secrets were whispered behind masks. 

But most of all, deep in her subconscious, she wondered what Mercutio was doing wearing those tacks.