OK... well, I read Romeo and Juliet when I was in ninth grade, and I started a story about it. Never really got around to making it a real story, I just sort of liked the idea. But then I looked back on it (it wasn't even that long at the time) and revised it. I think it's pretty good.

I've told my ninth-grade English teacher (she's still my favorite and we're still friends, yay!) about it. I've recounted most of it to her, and she seems to think it's a good idea. She liked how I changed the plot around and added twists.

First chapter happens the night before the big ball. *realizes what she just said* ... Damn it. STOP LAUGHING AT MY WORDING!

Anyway, it happens before the gala thrown by the Capulets. Romeo, would you please do the honors?

Romeo: Of course, milady. Lady Ishtar does not own the play which tells the story of me and my Juliet. Thank you for reading it, though. :)


... Are you beholding yet? *messes with a PS2 controller and a screen slides up from the ground* There! NOW behold!

... I will say this, however: it was a bitch keeping all the Elizabethan language in line. The way that "An" is used in the title, it means "If". Please tell me if I got anything wrong! Enjoy!


An Thou Lovest Me

-by A'isha Ishtar-


Violet Capulet considered herself to be a fortunate young woman. Her parents had died when she was fairly young (her mother, Maria, dying when she was about six, and her father, Alessandro, dying when she was nine) and left her with only her older brother, Tybalt. She was very lucky they'd found someone to care for them. Their uncle and aunt, the Lord and Lady Capulet, had taken her in. They, along with the Nurse, had made sure that Violet had everything she needed - and wanted. Because she was living with them, she grew up (since the age of nine) with her cousin, Juliet Capulet. She was three years older than Juliet, being sixteen years of age.

Officially a woman, by the shockingly low standards of Verona, Italy, where the Capulets made their home.

Being a legal adult frightened Violet. She was scared. She had no husband, nor beau… she was lonely, and she had never gone anywhere outside of Verona, and she spent most of her time with Juliet and Tybalt.

The last few days, Violet had not left her room. She did not talk to the Nurse (if anything, she offered a curt "Aye" or "Nay"), and she refused to see neither Lord Capulet nor Lady Capulet. She was very upset about the upcoming masked ball her aunt and uncle were holding. She did not want to go at all, though she was sure Tybalt would find some way to force her to go. She didn't want to go because seeing all the happy couples dancing, and most likely kissing, would only make her unhappy and jealous.

"Dear cousin," came a voice, Juliet's silvery bell tone, outside Violet's door. "May I enter?"

"Aye," Violet answered, lying down on the bed and staring at the stark white ceiling.

So the beautiful cousin with hair in between the lightest wood and the darkest earth, and the eyes bluer than the sea, came bounding into the room. A smile rested on her lips, as always; Juliet made an effort to always be happy, which Violet often appreciated. In truth, Violet had always been secretly envious of her cousin. Juliet was so pretty, and Violet was so… plain. She was different. Her hair was not fair, like Juliet's; her hair was pure black, and had not a curl or wave to flirt around. And her eyes, unlike Juliet's, were green - an uncommon sight in Italy. "Good morrow, cos!" she greeted, bouncing on the bed beside Violet. "How doth this fair day find thee?"

Violet managed a weak smile for Juliet. "Well met, dear cos."

"Thou look'st not in delight, Violet." Juliet slouched down on the bed, propping her head up by putting her fist against her cheek and having her elbow on the bed. "This day is to be much rejoiced! Thou art alive, is thou not, cos?" She jumped up and gestured to the window. "The sun bathes thy room, is it not so?" Sitting again, she put a hand on Violet's shoulder, looking concerned. "Thou dispatch all manner of joy and communication - it is three morrows now that thou hath been so heavy." She let go, easing back into the soft mattress. "What makes thy heart so silent, cos?"

Violet sighed, putting her hands over her stomach and glancing at her most trusted friend - for even the bond she had with her own brother could not compare to the bond she shared with Juliet. "I fear that mine keeper, my brother Tybalt, will pray that I attend the ball morrow e'en, and… thou might find this to be quite silly, but… I have no will to go. And, I have no gown, besides."

Juliet offered a giggle, covering her mouth. "I beg forgiveness for mine amusement, cos."

Violet crossed her arms across her chest. "I shall shun that, good Juliet."

"But thou should'st attend!" Juliet finished, wringing her hands in thought. "Thou might discover romance."

"And suppose that perchance, simply perchance, I do not e'en seek romance, cos?"

"Oh, methinks thou dost." Juliet's demeanor became serious, though her eyes sparkled mysteriously. "I canst see it in thine eyes, my cos. Thou desires to possess a lover to hold, to kiss in heat of passion and night, to make sweet rest to until all the world stands still around thee—"

"Thou plague me with nonsense and disgust, cos!" Violet groaned, tossing a pillow at Juliet. "Begone, then," she mumbled, glaring at nothing in particular.

Juliet crawled over, enveloping Violet in a concerned, sister-like embrace. "Dear cos?" she squeaked tentatively, furrowing her brow.

"Thou act as if I shall strike thee," Violet joked, tilting her head.

"I fear thee may!"

"Thou art as a jester, cos." She let her head fall forward, nearly resting on her own chest. "Verily, then, Juliet," she murmured quiet, almost too faint for her cousin to hear.

Blinking, Juliet tilted her own head. "May'st thou repeat, cos?"

"Verily," she said again. "If it will get thee to stop pestering me, Juliet, then verily, I seek romance. But thou shan't seek me at that frivolous gala. The only way that I shall be attending is if Tybalt comes to my room, galloping fast and hard as a great horse, and drags me to the grand ballroom by my cursèd raven locks!" To emphasize the point, she jabbed a finger at her hair to indicate what she was talking about.

"Oh, mine dear cos." Juliet fiddled with Violet's hair, giving a light, airy sigh - delicate, as everything she did was. "Thou must come! If thou doth not attend, I shall die of loneliness and drown in a pool of mine own tears of monotony before the night doth end!"

"Thou art being a bit melodramatic, art thou not?" Violet retorted.

"Well… perhap. Nonetheless, thou must come withal! I will surely be dead of ennui if thou doth not come. Thou would'st not want that?"

"I should suppose not. But there is still the dilemma of the gown. I doth not have any ones suitable to be worn for a ball. Therefore, I suppose I cannot go."

"Oh, cos! Such a situation can be easily mended. Simply borrow one of my gowns. Thy hips art the same width as mine, e'en an thou art slightly taller. I know just the one that would'st look simply lovely on thee. It is a deep red, with many beautiful decorations of gold and black. It would'st do perfectly to bring out thy hair, and thine eyes! Before the ball, I shall brush thine hair, run the silver brush through it many times, until it shines as the starry night sky! Twill be an ebony-tainted version of the moonlight which reflects off the surface of the calm waters."

"Ay, me, Juliet!" Violet, who had a naturally placid, quiet disposition, threw her hands up in frustration. She could tell she had lost this battle to her more becoming cousin. "Fine, then! I shall go! Wilt that make thee happy?"

"Aye! Aye, grammercy!" Juliet clapped her hands gleefully. "I shall have the gown ready for thee before the ball on the eve of the next morrow. I shall first fashion thy hair to be as handsome as it can be, and then I shall help thee into thy gown." She stood up, and skipped to the doorway.

"Soft! Juliet!"

The brunette turned around, smiling at her cousin. "Aye?"

"What exactly was Aunt discoursing to you earlier?"

"Oh." Juliet's face became slightly sad, but she waved her hand in a dismissive manner. "Mother wishes for me to marry a courtier by the name of Paris. I told her I would not, and she and Father discoursed to me that I must marry him. I shan't give up without a fight, however. They shall have to throw me to the streets before I marry that man!"

"Thou hast not met him, hast thou?" Violet asked.

"… Nay, I hast not. But, verily, suitors are all the same… they would to marry only for status."

Violet knew her aunt and uncle, and they wouldn't give up so easily. "I send thee good luck in changing their minds, Juliet."

"I thank thee! Adieu, dear cos." Juliet looked like she had something devious in her mind.

"Juliet," Violet practically growled out. "What is thou up to?"

"Aye… naught. Naught, dear cos. Adieu!" Juliet hurried out.

Violet sighed, then called after her cousin, "I shall see thee anon, good cos!"

She spread herself out on the bed again, closing her eyes.

If she met a good young man, she would be sure to keep away from Juliet while dancing with him.