withoutverona | Sunday Morning, Montague Offices, Verona

Saturday night had been for the wedding feasting, which had passed uneventfully, save a few harsh glances and harsher whispers. But Sunday after Mass, the time came to pay the piper. And so Romeo ascended the elevator to his father's office with a heavy heart. He thought he knew what would happen, and, while he'd dreamed of being summoned home, he never thought it would be like ... so.

Clasping his hands behind his back, he nodded to his father and cousin. "You wanted to see me, sir?"

	"I did, and glad I am that this request, at least, you did honor." Ted shook his head, watching his son with a sober look. "Our fortunes did not fall out as I would have had them at the hearing."
	"But, Father, I won my right to return to Verona should I please," Romeo countered, surprised. "Surely Juliet's purse is nothing against that."
	Thus far Benvolio had been silent, full aware of the precipice on which he stood: of those of the blood of Montague, it might be said he had usurped the position that once had been Romeo's, favored son of the house. "And with that, gentle cos, art thou content?"
	"I follow you not," Romeo said, eyes innocent. "Why would I not be content?"
	"That which should have been yours and by extension that of the family Montague, is held forfeit for thy freedom which should never have been at hazard," Ted said with a scowl. "And while thy freedom and life is no small thing..." He stared at his son, and shook his head. "What life will you have here in Verona, now, my son? In truth. Tell me, what do you see in your future here?"
	Benvolio shifted awkwardly, loosened the cravat that now felt far too tight. "'tis but a poor reparation of your fortune, I fear; all that which from thy grasp was torn can never in fullness be returned. Art thou at peace with that, Romeo? Say thee but nay, and I'll not hold it improbable; would that I could with a word set things on their prior course, but to my regret such things are beyond my grasp."
	"Such things are beyond the grip or the ken of man," Romeo said. "Therefore we should dwell not on them, though, Cos, I thank thee for the wish itself. I have as much peace in my bosom as any man can have, and more than a murderer deserves." His eyes went to his shoes before skittering to his father. "Why, Father, I hope I should have a good life, and honest, and gentle, better than might have been mine had none of this befallen us." Though he was starting to realize he hope that life might start a little later, say, in a year, after graduation. "Dost thou tell me such cannot be mine, within our family's house?"
	"Within our family's house? Always. You are my son, and the last lingering memory of your mother shines on in you." Ted's voice softened. "But within Verona, but without our house and home? Tybalt's friends are many, with long memories and much malice. You may walk the streets in honor today and for that I am grateful; but in safety, never." Ted looked over at Benvolio, his voice becoming brisk. "Your cousin has all my confidence in his calm nature and steady heart, which even deserved forgiveness can not reclaim for you. Within Verona he may speak for me and not inflame our ancient feud. You, Romeo..." Romeo's father sighed.
	"Soft, uncle," protested Benvolio, holding up a hand. "The tumult of these preceding hours may prove so harsh an ordeal that 'twould belabor one man to persevere, erect and unbowed. Would you have our Romeo a Hector, torn and dishonored before the gates of Troy? What's done is done; let the tooth of time gnaw these ancient ills, and afford him such victory as we can bestow."
	"But will time alone heal such a bleeding sore, so oft rubbed open by the very hands that now aim to anoint it?" Romeo despaired, the full impact of his relatives' words sinking in. "My father is right; my fate must need lie outside these walls, or live here as a child, thinking himself hidden by his mother's skirts."
	"You are a man, Romeo. Were it not so, I could not let you go." Ted reached out a hand to his son, laying it on his shoulder. "Had you not returned to untangle this nest of thorns then I would dread for you in the wider world, and the mistakes you would re-visit beyond my sight." He squeezed Romeo's shoulder, then let his hand drop. "I will yet fear, but no longer for thy honor. This is your home and ever shall be. Send back word to your family of what lies beyond, and know that we think of you as one whose place at the table, and place in our hearts, is assured."
	Benvolio placed both palms flat on the desk, the reflection of light off his wedding band but a garnish on the palpable agitation in the room, and leaned forward, modulating his voice to softness. "'Strewth, an were our time of peace not but new-minted, respite within Verona's walls might have for thee more substance than a wayward shade who looks upon the living from 'yond the veil. I fear no shelter can there be beneath the monument for he who first struck upon the chisel, but who gaze upon what he has wrought . . ." He faltered, hoping he had made his meaning clear.
	Romeo smiled slightly, bitterly. "No, Cos, I struck the chisel but in such an ill-timed manner, and at an angle so poor, than only the skill of craftsmen following me could prevent a full split. We are young; there is time. Therefore let me away to school again, and hope that when my studies are ended my place here is more clear." It was obvious that Ted and Benvolio approved of this plan.