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i. hermia and helena
These two girls took their first steps leaning on each others’ shoulders and hips, and then they taught each other how to speak. They didn’t need nouns or verbs, just adjectives and gestures that stood for prepositions. People had trouble interacting with them and passed them over as nonverbal children. At some point they looked at each other and decided they should make some effort to get along with the world they were given, since it was never going to be the one they expected.
When they are a little older than either of them seriously thought was a real age, but younger than their fathers would deem appropriate, they fumble through the dark and learn from one another the language of love. It looks like a double cherry fused together from a ripe young age and it feels like the dew on their arms when they wake up in the grass together.
ii. hermia and demetrius
Two kids keep a cautious distance outside of the school. they don’t trust each other and both know they are dealing with an unknown element. Hermia especially is facing something new, alone for the first time. She misses her favorite playmate and doesn’t know what to do.
Demetrius, on the other hand, is used to being alone. He prefers his own company to the friendship most people can offer, which renders him rude and impatient. However, his peculiar code of honor insists that he must give everyone a chance before rejecting them, so he introduces himself.
“I’m going to be a soldier when I grow up, and they’ll decorate me for sure.”
Hermia giggles and when she does, she doesn’t sound like an awkward little kid anymore. “My father’s the general, which means our families will be seeing a lot of each other.”
“So does that mean I should become good friends with you to earn promotion, or do I use diplomacy with your father so I can talk to you at all?”
She thinks about it for two and a quarter seconds and then smiles. “Both.”
iii. lysander and helena
They started calling her a vixen when she was thirteen, and worse names besides. She used to cry about it all the time because she knew she wasn’t any of those horrid things. Helena couldn’t help it that she was pretty, and she didn’t even think that she was most of the time: when she looked in the glass all she saw was her long horsey face in a tangle of hair, the fingernails she always bit ragged, and worst of all, her colorless, ordinary eyes.
Now that she’s sixteen and almost an adult, she’s getting better at accepting herself and these days she takes refuge at the old cathedral. She stays there until her knees hurt, praying for — something, she doesn’t know what. For things to change, for herself to change, or maybe she just wants it all to go back to the way it was.
Clutching her prayer book, she pushes open the wooden doors and comes out into the sunlight. She falls into the words and does everything she can to lose herself there, and that’s why she doesn’t see the youth in the leather jacket until she walks right into him. This is Lysander; everyone knows him from the roguish gleam in his eye.
“Hey,” he calls, “Aren’t you Nedar’s daughter?”
“I have to go,” she says, barely moving her lips, and she ducks her head to get away.
“Hermia talks about you all the time!”
This rouses her. She closes her book and looks him straight in the face. “You’d better be treating my best friend right.”
He nods. “By my troth, I do.” He sounds like he means it.
iv. hermia, lysander, and helena
He sits on a hill outside the city watching the stars with the best members of his gang. Even sitting, he’s taller than both of them, so his left arm rests on Hermia’s head and the right on Helena’s shoulder. The girls lace their fingers together in his lap and the three of them are the perfect moment they share.
Helena flings a finger towards the sky. “There’s Draco curling around the sky! And that’s Cygnus the Swan!” It’s good to hear her laugh. She used to be nothing but moody towards him, always watching out for the friend she loves like a sister. Until Hermia told her to stop worrying and to come along on one of their outings. Since then, they’ve been inseparable.
“Father says they’re sending more ships out tomorrow,” Hermia says. “I expect I’ll have to dress up and look my best. Oh well, it’ll be over soon enough.”
“I’m not for the navy,” Lysander says, stretching. “I’d much rather draw a bow. He guides Hermia’s hands to show her how it would work.
“Like Artemis, our chaste huntress! How romantic!” She swoons into his lap.
Helena rolls her eyes. “You two lovebirds can keep your chastity, I’ll take wisdom, and even the name of that patron goddess can ground me in this city.”
“We’ll have each other forever,” says Lysander.
“Yes,” says Helena.
“Yes,” says Hermia.
v. helena, demetrius, and hermia
She has no reason to be so nervous about this. It’s Helena’s special day, not hers. Demetrius reserved the Kraken weeks in advance, and they think it’s going to be The Dinner. Helena told her about it as soon as she found out. “I want you to be there so you can remember everything because I know I’m going to be too fluttery to even think of what I’m saying.” Naturally she said she would come and the night he’s going to propose to her best friend has finally arrived. Demetrius can be rough and tumble at times, but he has a good heart and does his best to correct his mistakes. Lately he’s even been nicer to Hermia, even though they’ve been teasing each other since grade school. He’s a good match for Helena and Hermia couldn’t be happier for them.
She spins around a few times, trying to reach the zipper on the back of her dress. It’s rose-colored and in a simple cut because she’s there to help her playmate shine. She can be almost certain that Helena will be wearing her strapless raspberry number that makes her look like a dream.
“Oh, thank goodness you made it, Hermia!” He seems more nervous than either of the other two. “I was worried you wouldn’t be here. Take a breadstick.” The meal is delicious of course, and Helena smiles so beautifully, ready to start the rest of her life as soon as she’s asked.
“So dessert — how does red velvet sound?” says Demetrius. After they’ve ordered, Hermia gives him a Look; he’s waited long enough. “Okay, um, I’ve never done this kind of thing before, so you’ll have to bear with me.” As he gets down to his knees, she glances at Helena, who’s covered her mouth in amusement and anticipation. Then he reaches for his breast pocket. “Will you marry me… Hermia?”
“What.” She blinks several times. “I’m sorry, but what are you talking about?”
“Your father asked me to marry you and, naturally, I said yes.”
“You said yes. I never said yes, no one ever even asked me. How dare—”
She is cut off by a loud sob from Helena. “I love you, Demetrius! I thought you were proposing! Did you already plan to throw me over when you made the reservations?”
“Oh come on, babe, I wouldn’t set you up on purpose! Things changed and it was too late to cancel, and I knew Hermia would be here, so what was the harm?”
Hermia pulls Helena into a hug and glares at him over the top of her head. “You are a horrible man and even if I weren’t perfectly happy with Lysander, I could never marry someone who would treat any friend of mine like that.”
vi. lysander, hermia, and demetrius
Something is very wrong with the clock in the duke’s antechamber. While Hermia’s father is off talking to the Philostrate, Lysander closes his eyes and tries to figure out why the ticks are sometimes in waltz time and sometimes a march. To ease the tension they must all be feeling, he squeezes Hermia’s hand and says, “Theseus is a reasonable man. I’m sure he’ll hear us out.”
Demetrius has been sulking against a wall with his arms crossed and he scoffs at this. “Reasonable or not, the law is rigid and must be followed. Relent, sweet Hermia, and marry me. Just admit it was all a big misunderstanding.” He nods at the grand doors. “We’ll be able to put all this behind us and start a life together.”
She tosses her head imperiously. “I already have a life and it doesn’t include a prig like you. In fact, I think you’re the one who should relent.”
But it seems to Lysander that Demetrius’ heart isn’t really in it. He’s asking Hermia to be merciful and insisting that she owes him, and everything else a jilted suitor should, but it seems that he’s just going through the motions. So Lysander tries a different approach. “Don’t you remember Helena? She suited you, made you better, and you’re really going to give all that up for a bit of politicking?”
“Past tense,” Demetrius counters smugly. “I’m a different man and what that man wants is nothing but Hermia.”
“That may be true, but what she wants is nothing but Lysander,” she says as she tilts her head up.
Before he can kiss her, Egeus blusters through, dragging the three of them along. “Happy be Theseus, our renowned Duke!”
vii. helena and demetrius
It’s not that he finds her repulsive; he just doesn’t particularly care what happens to her one way or another. He used to like her and now he doesn’t, but there are plenty of men who still do (and women too, if the rumors are to be believed). He doesn’t understand why she can’t be satisfied with one of them. But he also doesn’t understand why she’d tell him about Hermia’s departure instead of keeping him all to herself. Not that he’s complaining.
“Now where did they go once they got into the woods? You must have some idea!”
Her teasing eyes, that 'wouldn’t you like to know?' smirk, the casual shrug of her shoulders, all of these remind him of their carefree afternoons painting self-portraits and playing cat and mouse. They were good times. He shakes it off.
When he turns around, there she is again, hands arching towards his chest. “If I didn’t have to chase you to help you we’d probably make better progress, don’t you think?”
“Well sure. If you actually have a clue where to go next, if you don’t just attack me and keep me here with you.”
“Hmm. Tempting. Was that a proposition?”
“Absolutely not.” He runs off and it seems to him the woods are full of a shrill inhuman laughter.
viii. hermia and lysander
Hermia feels like she can breathe easier once they get past the city gates. They are still on the duke’s land, however, so they have to keep moving. It’s tiring but exciting and she doesn’t think she’ll get bored of these woods, not if Lysander is by her side.
When she trips, he notices right away and offers to stop this wandering. To be honest, she could keep going; she is not nearly the frail hothouse flower he expects. She is uneasy about the milestones she can still see here. The numbers are high but that they exist at all shows her that they are still too close for comfort, so she keeps going. But when he says he’s forgotten which path to take, she agrees that maybe it’s time to take a break and he’ll remember better in daylight.
Hermia isn’t really in the mood to cuddle, and Lysander clearly wants more than that, so she pushes him away, gently at first. “Lie further off, in human modesty.”
“You’re sure?” he says sadly. “You get a better view of the stars from where I’m lying.”
“Sorry, Lysander. You know how I get about touch, but I promise our troth is still one.”
“I’ll dream of you,” he mumbles, already half asleep.
She takes a bit longer to get there, staring up at the spots of sky cut out of the leaves. When she finally gets to sleep, she doesn’t even dream, she is so tired. Until the serpent comes.
ix. demetrius, helena, and lysander
The trouble is, she can’t tell if Lysander believes this or not. They were best friends, what feels like decades ago, so it’s possible that some seed of infatuation was growing inside him that whole time. He does sound sincere, and his words are almost enough to sway her… but… no! Those looks should be given to Hermia and she won’t have another couple broken up because of her. Hermia is her bosom friend and she wants to keep it that way.
When she stumbles back from the force of pushing him away, she trips backwards over someone. Another body in the woods! Is it something about these trees, or is she just naturally clumsy because she’s so tall? She barely has five seconds to ponder this phenomenon because it is Demetrius and — surprise, surprise — he adores her too. “My sight is returned to me,” he tells her reverently. “I had forgotten the sight of the sun, so caught up was I in the moon and her pale weeping!”
Yesterday all this would have been the only thing she longed to hear, but it’s entirely too coincidental that they would both be so transformed in her presence. They must be working together and she can’t abide a trick. She’s had just about enough of this nonsense and she tells them so.
x. lysander and demetrius
The forest adds; the forest takes away. Demetrius knew this in a general sort of sense, but it’s not until he’s chasing another man to win one girl and give up another that he understands this. “Lysander!” he calls, “Listen, buddy, I don’t want to fight anymore. Don’t you think it’s time we talk about this?”
The forest mocks him with a series of howls and shrieks but he can just barely make out “Come forward then, you cur! Here’s level ground for talks, or what you will!”
Demetrius fights his way through vines that seem to be moving to trap him, towards his friend’s taunting voice. He really shouldn’t be all that surprised to walk into a fist.
“Why did you have to take her away from me?” pleads Lysander. “I loved her first and you were happy with the other one.”
“I’ve already told you — I’ll let you be with Hermia. I’ve recognized the error of my ways and now my love is only Helena!”
“Helena, Hermia, it doesn’t matter. No matter what or who I love, you suddenly choose to love them right away, following on my footsteps. And you love better, with words worth speaking, like it’s your duty to rub it in my face how much I’ve failed. We used to be friends, do you remember?”
“I admire you,” he blurts.
“What?”
“Greatly,” he adds. “You care about things and people and you don’t care what anyone thinks of you, and I’ve always been envious. If I ape your style, it’s because I don’t have one of my own. I promise it was never a mockery.”
“Well it wasn’t very nice, and people are not baubles or accessories.”
“I know,” he says. “I’m sorry.” Then because he keeps staring at Lysander’s lips and now is not the time, he says, “Hit me again.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’d deserve it. And then we can sit down and figure out who we really love. Maybe we’ll turn out to have no contradictions at all.”
“We’ll talk to the girls too,” Lysander reminds them both. “All four of us will decide our own fate.”
xi. demetrius, hermia, lysander, and helena
The day breaks, the birds call, the duke’s hunting dogs bay, and four young Athenians awake on the forest floor. At first they don’t know where they are, but as they look around at each other’s faces they know who they are and who they belong to, and that’s nothing the laws of Athens can do anything about. Demetrius’s hand rests on Hermia’s hip while Helena spoons her from behind, and even in sleep her hand is tightly linked with Lysander, whose chest supports the comforting weight of Demetrius’s head. Their legs are tangled every which way and their clothes have been scattered in all the wooing and fighting and wooing some more of the previous night.
“Saint Valentine’s is past,” chides Duke Theseus, but he hardly seems angry, more amused than anything else. “Do you mind telling me what brought you to this grove?”
Hermia sits up to look at him, ignoring Helena’s sleepy sound of protest as she clutches at her waist, and then she gasps and shields her chest. By some miracle Demetrius still has an undershirt, which he takes off and offers her right away, and she accepts it gratefully. Oh God, her father is here too, and so is the duchess.
Lysander is the first to find his tongue and he explains in a voice of soft amazement how he fled with Hermia in the night, how Demetrius pursued Hermia, and how Helena with the soul of love came in chase of him. What came between those circumstances and the dawn light that greets them now, he cannot say. It hurts his brain a little even to think of it, and the little he can recall is not for the duke’s ears.
He is saved from having to explain the unexplainable by Egeus and his ire. “Enough, my lord, you have heard enough! Demetrius, they have defeated you and me — you of your wife, and me of my consent that she should be your wife.”
Helena giggles and pokes him in the back, whispering, “That’s your cue,” so he scrambles to stand up beside Lysander. More formally than he really feels like being, but appearances do matter now that they’re awake, he offers Lysander the kind of handshake that soldiers exchange. It is a handshake for brothers, for comrades, for people who have been through wonders and terrors together and come out the other side confident that they can rely on each other, and at the end of it he pulls him into a hug.
And then he turns to the duke, not the general, to speak of love and vows and food that cannot be stomached in sickness but returns joyfully now that he is whole again. It is Helena he has wronged the most, Helena he makes his apologies to, Helena that the adults will understand, but when he turns to Helena and says, “Now do I wish it, love it, long for it, and will forevermore be true to it,” the love he speaks of belongs to all four of them. They are inseparable because it’s the only arrangement that works.