All’s Fair in Love and War
Creative Fiction Prose
Adaptation of Shakespeare’s Venus and Adonis and The Two Noble Kinsmen
Winner of “Outstanding Fiction Prose” during the 40th Annual EVVY Awards on May 7th, 2021.
Word Count: 5,083
He finds Arcite exactly where he expects him to be, the quiet section of the university library, head craned to a book. It’s the tender moments that Adonis likes the best, where he can stop for a moment and appreciate him. His boyfriend often tells him that he’s the eye candy, but to Adonis, the world wishes it was as beautiful as Arcite. It’s not just looks, but mind and heart. He approaches carefully, not wanting to disturb the poet from his thoughts, and takes a seat in one of the nearby lounge chairs. Hands folded in his lap, his knee bounces still. He’s been dreading this conversation. Honesty and truth have more power in the hushed quiet.
Arcite licks his finger, flips a page, lets his eyes wander. The smile that grows on Arcite’s face when he spots him makes Adonis’ heart burst. Adonis had to be so careful as to not break it.
“Hey you,” he says, dog-earing the page as he sets it aside.”You haven’t been sitting there for long, have you?”
Adonis shakes his head, shifts his chair closer to Arcite’s. The boy’s lack of the usual overeager and hyper exterior immediately is disconcerting, and something he knows that Arcite immediately picks up on. His head hangs low, and swallows the anxiety that contrasts his throat.
“What’s wrong?” Arcite asks, brown eyes wide with concern. It’s not unusual though, for Adonis to meet him here. It’s been their safe haven for as long as they’ve known each other. It’s where they met, and Arcite was kind enough to have eased him through the essay he struggled with. He was never the academic but, with Arcite’s help, still managed a C. He couldn’t return the favor, but tried in other ways. Equal stakes didn’t matter to each of them, they somehow always found the way to catch each other when one fell.
“I need to talk to you about something, and I don’t-- You’re not going to like it.”
“You didn’t fail out, did you?” Arcite’s cheery disposition is still so sunny, trying to find some humor. Adonis knew this would be uncomfortable, but to see that smile start to crack…
He pulls open his backpack from where it was resting between his legs, and passes over a crisp folder to the other.
“I don’t know how to tell you. I’m-- I’m not sure if I’m sorry,” Adonis starts, a quiet voice shaking as he passes over the folder. Or maybe that was his hand. Or his whole body. Or maybe just the thoughts in his head. “I did it this morning. I couldn’t wait any longer.”
Arcite takes the folder, suspect of what it may contain before he even opens it. It’s not a surprise, or it shouldn’t be. They’ve been arguing about this for the past few weeks, throwing about “if’s” and “why’s” and “please”. He doesn’t open it. He doesn’t need to.
“You enlisted this morning, Adonis?” His voice doesn’t reveal any reaction, eyes low, trained on the paper in front of him. The weight and reality of it was heavy enough. Arcite doesn’t look at him, only grips the paper with the same gentleness he’d caress Adonis with.
“I did.”
“Why?”
“I wanted to. I needed to.” Beyond his will, Adonis didn’t know anything else. With the war carrying through the Middle East pushing west, and even more whispers of it reaching Greece itself, it seemed right. He wants to be able to do something with his life; it wouldn’t be school, it wouldn’t be society. Glory always felt like a blaze to him and the fire beaconed him to greatness.
There’s a beat. In the quiet. Adonis watches Arcite’s face break. His boyfriend drops the folder, only to clasp their hands together-- Adonis lets him. He’ll let him take all he needs.
“Adonis, please,” Arcite begs, voice unable to contain his heartbreak, “I’ve seen the damage war can do. It destroyed my family, it almost destroyed my cousin. It is a beast that eats you up from the inside out and tears everything you love apart.” Tears prick at the corner of his eyes, hanging his head low. Adonis doesn’t apologize, doesn’t say anything. Adonis knows this, and still decided. It’s his life, and yes, he wants it with Arcite, but he would be the only one in control of what he wanted. When the tears begin to roll down his boyfriend’s cheeks, Arcite lets the guilt take over.
“I would rather us die in here, together. Please. Don't leave, please, stay with me. If you're with me, then I'll be happy to be trapped with you anywhere.”
He can’t.
“Adonis, listen to me. Please. I’m begging you... “
He wishes he could. He’d do anything for Arcite.
“I want you happy, I know you want this, but please, don’t leave me.”
But this is the one thing he can’t compromise. The quiet of the library is too much.
“I won’t control you. I won’t, I’m sorry-- I know this is what you want. But, please, for Ares’ sake, Adonis. Promise you’ll come back to me.”
Adonis swallows, squeezes his boyfriend’s hand. “I’ll come back to you, “ Adonis struggles to say. A small smile makes it through.
“We are an endless mine to one another. I need you to survive for me.”
* * *
My dear Arcite,
Arrived safely at training. I’m not the youngest, though I look it. There’s a few boys that look like you and I think I see you in their eyes. I miss you. I love you.
Training isn’t the glory you’d expect. It’s hard. ██████. It’s cold here. My arms are so sore from the work outs. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get the mud out from under my nails. It’s hard. But it’s okay! I think all of this will be okay.
A lot of the guys here are really interesting. All coming from different backgrounds. It feels like university. Without the studying. I’d take the jumping jacks and the gear runs over an essay any day. Even if I can’t catch my breath for what feels like forever afterwards.
I’ll keep sending you letters. I can’t wait to get started.
Yours,
Adonis M.
My love,
A lot of the guys here don’t really seem to want to talk about their own lives. It’s like they’ve completely lost themselves. Like our Drill Sergeant-- I tried to ask him, immediately was disciplined for speaking out of turn. ████████████. I like meeting people. I like talking to them. But the longer these people seem to be stuck in the war, the less like people they feel. I don’t want to forget you. And I don’t think I will. I won’t be here for a long time, I don’t think I want to either. I just want to make a difference. And I need to do this for me.
I love you. Making some progress. I can pass the fitness test in just over eighteen minutes now, but nothing like the other guys...
Thinking of you,
Adonis M.
Arcite,
They’re talking about starting to deploy the troops here. We’re going to be headed to the front lines on the eastern border, where the worst of it is. Some generals and senior officers came by yesterday to see our progress-- and I think they were really impressed! We’ve come a long way, I think I’m going to be great. Safe, but great. I’m just happy to get out of these barracks, start the way to real glory. I’m apparently going to be sorted into General Venus’ troops. She asked for me specifically after training. Oh, I think so at least. The officer in charged kinda smirked when they gave us our positions. ██████ ██████████████████████████████. That must be a good thing. Definitely reached some of my potential.
Letters may come slower, but I’ll keep writing for you. I won’t forget.
I promise I’ll come back to you.
Love you,
Adonis M.
* * *
General Venus worked hard for her position, and had done the time needed to get her stars, to get the power of command for herself. Reputable sure, but with being a woman, it makes things harder. She’s still the only female officer of her rank. She’s trusted. She does good work, chooses good soldiers, makes the right plans. In fact, it is all others that she still holds power over. Any man can work hard to be a war general, but any woman doing the work is almost unheard of.
For Greece, she would do anything. It’s home. She loves it. She’ll protect anything she loves.
It’s not unusual for the generals in the area to be invited to training a few days before deployment. Call it cheap, call it a trick, but oftentimes they are able to talk to the deployment officer and request specifics. Getting as far as she has gives her the access to all the men. It gets her what she wants.
After a lifetime of struggling to get to where she’s wanted, she thinks she’s allowed, or maybe entitled, to have the things she desires. One, being the best selection of soldiers that didn’t catcall her fighting under her orders. Two, well, in war, not much else was important. She’s learned that.
She gets what she wants.
How else would she be able to be taken seriously?
Standing on the observation deck, she watches the new recruits below her. The special access for this afternoon was reserved to only her and three other generals.
“Týr, you’re going west. What makes you think you should have some of the best? Nothing’s happening on that end, and there will always be cavalry if you need support. Venus and I need the strongest on our side, in the east.”
“What Mars means to say,” Venus piques in, “we get first dibs.”
Erra scoffs. She rolls her eyes. Týr tries to hide his anger.
For all she’s known, it’s been her and Mars keeping the strength of the Eastern Front. It’s the most important to keeping the borders of their country safe and supporting the allies through the rest of the border. Keeping the enemy from advancing further is their only course of action-- and an important one.
Dancing with Death became second nature, for Venus and Mars. They had the most experience and the most battle scars than the other two combined.
“Fine then. Take your pick and we’ll pick up the scraps.” Erra said, rolling his shoulder with a pop. “They’re all carbon copies anyway.”
Venus steps closer to the window. She’s played this game long enough to know that there are sometimes soldiers who prove themselves more, those who are quicker and tougher or even just able to throw a grenade farther. Quick reflexes and stamina made for the better type of recruit for the frontlines. That was something that couldn’t be drilled in during training. As she overlooks the lines of new soldiers, faces obscure and tips of their hair coated from the mud from where they remained doing push-ups, one caught her eye.
A younger boy, most likely, elbows quaking with the exhaustion of holding himself up. His blonde, curly hair matted in the rain and not as bright as she assumes it could be, yet still acts like a beacon to her eye. He’s grinning, she thinks, despite the lack of performance. Oh, how he wants to try.
She swallows. Oh, how she wants.
Beauty and virtue are never found on the battlefield. With his deposition to still enlist and do his best, unknowing how he’s failing, his passion was clear.
Yes, that one would do.
* * *
Finding out their deployments was probably the most exciting day for Adonis since arriving. Their officers handed them out lists of paper to know their new locations and which trucks to board to ensure their safe travel to the front. They’d get settled there; everything was quick at training. Everything seemed to live as a drill. Eat quickly, sleep now, do this here. Now. Now. Now.
He wanted the glory. It wasn’t glorious to peel caked mud off your skin before sleeping because you’re not sure you’ll be able to race to the showers quick enough for some warmer water before it turned cold. Surely, things would be better with a gun in his hands faced with a real target. When he could think for himself, act on impulse to protect the other people he’s come to know, it’d all get better.
It reminded him of hunting when he was younger, with his father. The focus and accuracy of lining up the crosshairs perfectly on the heart of a mouflin. Quick, painless, clean.
Arriving at camp was a bumpy ride, and had done enough to shaken up a few of the recruits younger than him. He was almost twenty-two, the idea of an eighteen-year-old in his shoes was rattling. He did wait a certain amount of time for this, until he couldn’t wait any longer. He kept his pack tight to his back, clutching onto the straps like a lifeline as he walked towards the tents, in the back with everyone else.
“Private Mazarin!”
Adonis jumps in his own skin, pivoting on his heel-- almost tripping in the soft grasses-- and holds himself as learned as a senior officer, one he doesn’t recognize, rushes up to him.
“Yes, sir.” He replies, unsure, yet tries to keep his back and shoulders straight. Had he already done something wrong on day one?
“You’ve been ordered to report to General Venus.”
“General Venus?” He can’t read the man’s facial expression.
“Yes, Private Mazarin. At once.”
A couple of the other boys he’d grown close to-- Piers and Alexander-- stay behind, curious to the conversation they had overheard. Though, Adonis doesn’t have the time to ask them their thoughts or what they think. They don’t seem concerned, but Piers frowns. There’s a whistle. They have to fall in line. Adonis doesn’t want them to worry, so he smiles, spirit unbroken.
It’s a good thing. It must be. He’ll get to talk with his general, explain to her his ambition and all will be well. There’s a pep in his steps as he walks, to the other side of their encampment. The sun warms his face, letting the tension ease out from his shoulders. It’s been awhile since he’s relaxed.
It’s been awhile since he’s been able to write to Arcite. His heart churns at the thought. But looking at the grass and the sky and the untouched earth between here and the horizon, maybe war could be beautiful. Maybe it could be just what he had wanted.
Adonis enters the war-tent, ready to ask a secretary for a connection to Venus. He stops short in his boots, as she stands, towering over him, right at the entrance.
“Private Marazin?”
“Yes, ma’am. You wanted to speak with me, ma’am?”
She’s tall. Very tall, with broad shoulders and toned arms; he feels both feeble and in awe in her presence. Her eyes look him over with a glint in them that Adonis can’t quite place.
She smiles. “I’ve heard a lot of things about you, Private. Your cheery disposition, your work ethic, your passion for enlisting. Truly, I’m glad to have a soldier like you in my charge.”
“Thank you, ma’am.” Adonis squares his shoulders again, tries to stop grin at the compliment. A blush rises to his cheeks, happy that his work had not gone unnoticed.
She beckons him further into her space, pointing to a place with her swagger stick. He follows, as he should. A soldier follows orders. Adonis swallows the anxiety in his throat as he takes a seat, keeps his hands in his lap.
“Why did you enlist, Private?”
He didn’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t sure she wanted, all he knew he needed to impress her.
“I felt like I had to, ma’am. Really, I-- I wanted to. I knew about the war, I knew we were at risk. I wanted to fight, it’s the only thing I felt pulled to.”
“A boy like you?”
Her smile slowly curls into a smirk, predatory. Adonis grinds the heel of his boot on the floor, nervous. “I’m sorry,” he starts out of turn, “I misspoke, ma’am.”
Venus doesn’t reply as quickly as first, only adjusts the tight braid of auburn hair behind her neck. She looks again at him, head to toe, with that hungry expression on her face. Why is he here?
“I’ve given you a special assignment, Marazin. When the rest of the recruits leave for the front tomorrow morning, report here instead.” Venus raises the crop and Adonis rises. She waves for him to leave, seemingly content. He still can’t read her expression. She’s unlike anything he was expecting. While her stature is incredibly strong and domineering, her voice seems sincere, and layered with… Adonis couldn’t tell.
“Yes, ma’am.”
Though under her breath, he could’ve sworn he heard:
“Very nice, very nice indeed.”
* * *
Adonis welcomes the soap suds and cold water across his skin. Adonis really wanted to wash his hair, short strands curling against his temple caked with sweat and dirt most of the time was an annoyance. He had been on edge all morning and the quick shower did well to calm his nerves. General Venus specifically chose him for her troop and on the day of deployment to the front… He’s reporting to her instead. He didn’t understand the special treatment. It must be all good things. She seems to like him, thinks he’s capable.
Adonis flexes to himself. He’s a well trained, capable soldier. He marches out of the barracks, uniform crisp. Though he doesn’t see Piers or Alexander, he’s not too worried. He’ll complete whatever Venus wants of him quickly and be able to head to the front like he wants and join the rest. He needs them, just like they need him too.
As he arrives at General Venus’ tent, the trucks begin to leave for the front. Of his rank, Adonis is left alone in the encampment. He hopes it doesn’t sour his mood. She had plucked him from the day he’s been looking forward to. But the special assignment-- only he got one. Adonis smiles, shrugging off all negative thoughts. She was his general, he trusts her.
He enters the tent again, and finds Venus sitting at her desk, reading glasses perched on her nose and papers laid out in front of her.
“Good morning, General!” Adonis announces, standing firm once at the entrance: clean, joyful, and ready.
Her blue eyes meet his from where she sat, offering the same hard-to-read smile again as she removes her glasses and sets them aside. She still holds so much authority, even sitting. Adonis doesn’t move, waiting for her to welcome him.
“Good morning, Private Marazin. Thank you for being timely,” She picks up the stick from beside her desk, points it at him, and then urges him closer to the desk. Of course, he follows, holds his stance in front of the desk, shoulders stiff. “You can relax with me. We’re going to be working very closely together.”
Adonis immediately drops his shoulders, as she asks. Though, after all that has drilled into him, it seems too unstructured as a second meeting between a private and a general.
“Is that the special assignment, General?” He asks, unsure, unsteady.
Venus organizes the papers together on the desk, before handing them up to him. She nods, as he collects the papers and begins to skim through them. Though his eyes read them, Adonis wasn’t sure he actually ingested the content.
“You’re going to be working beside me here.”
He couldn’t say no. Though, isn’t the glory on the front lines?
General Venus encourages him to sit himself at the desk instead, and he does, though wobbly and unsure. It wasn’t his desk. You never touch a general’s desk. Adonis looks over the papers again, trying to understand really what she meant. She wasn’t clear.
“What did you want from me, ma’am? Specifically, um, I mean?”
From behind him, Venus runs a calloused hand across his shoulder. Adonis shivers, though doesn't move.
“We’ll discuss each as they are relevant, Private Marazin.” Her voice is too close to him. He almost chokes.
Still, a good soldier follows orders. Especially straight from the general. Now completely isolated from all other soldiers who were deployed, Adonis would talk to General Venus about it, thank her for the kindness, and return to the other troops from his recruitment by the end of the week. He hoped.
* * *
“General Venus, please, with all due respect, I--” Adonis pushes her hands off of his shoulders. “Please, I-- They need every man they can at the front.”
Venus pulls him back to her, holding him close. He shakes under her embrace, unsure of the advance and the reason for it.
He’s spent the past few weeks working under her, personally. There had been notekeeping, organization, and other small tasks that he hated. Adonis tried to take it with pride. It had to have been some mistake, surely. General Venus never listened to his distaste, or she would try to let him know that it was because of his outstanding performance during training.
If he was so outstanding, why was he to be a lap dog?
The memory of her fingers through his hair makes him shudder.
Adonis pushes her off again, the square of his palm against her hips. “They need me.”
The echo of gunshots ring against his ears. How could they stay here when the front line had moved right up to their encampment. Why wasn’t he out there?
“Adonis, listen to me.” Venus says, unreactive to his forcefulness. She had dropped the formalities with him some days ago. Adonis still kept the respect; she had earned it. Venus took one step back into his personal space, he froze again, unsure of where the line laid between respecting your superior and correct procedure. She places one hand against his rosy cheek, pulling his amber eyes back to meet hers. The only thing he could see in her eyes was sincerity.
He thinks he’s shaking. He didn’t want this.
‘If you go out there,” she says, “I won’t be able to protect you.” The gentleness of her voice against the forceful movements of her body is enough to confuse him further. He wants nothing to do with her, with this distraction, with any of this ‘special treatment’.
Adonis enlisted to fight. No one would stop him from that, not even the one person he was supposed to be listening to.
“You’re not prepared.”
“I am! Isn’t that what training is for?”
“No, your virtue isn’t worth the cruelties of war. I’m doing this for you.”
Adonis rips her hand away, frustration settling in. It feels idioitic, like a child throwing a tantrum. He has all the right reasons. This is not what he thought he signed up for.
“You’re doing this all for yourself. I’m a soldier, I’m here to fight, not to entertain you. I’m not interested.” Adonis bites his cheek and pulls away from her to button-up his uniform jacket. If he hurt her feelings, her face doesn’t show it. She stays cold, stays firm. He doesn’t know if she’s ever been told no; as her reputation shows, Venus holds all the power she’s ever wanted. And she wants more…
Adonis didn’t want to give it. He did this for himself.
He’s never been able to catch up with his troop. He’s not been able to show himself. What was the point?
“I’m keeping your beauty, your virtue, safe. Listen to me.”
Adonis grits his teeth, scowling as he makes it towards the door. She’s only kept him behind. He’d prove himself and assist in the effort; push the enemy back a few kilometers and save his country. To be a hero? Is that what he wants? No, he only wants to be able to make his own choice, follow his heart.
“No, I’m leaving. I’m going to help out there.”
“If you leave this tent, I’ll consider this an act of desertion.” Venus' voice echoes through him, rattling him to the core. Dishonorable discharge for wanting to assist in the effort? Was she that cruel?
Adonis looks back at her. She is tenacious to get what she wants. How hypocritical then, to try and keep him from his own glory. He steadies himself, doesn’t look back. Without another word, he rushes out.
* * *
Active conflict isn’t like what they’ve been told about. It’s not orderly. It’s not the rush of adrenaline that empowers a soldier forward. It’s fear. Adonis runs towards it like it’s all he’s ever known. It’s what he has to, it’s what he signed up for. It’s what he wants. He wasn’t going to give up on that. Not for himself, not for Arcite’s sake, and not for everything he’s believed in.
He rushes into the heat and the dust like it’s the only air he can ever breathe. He coughs through it, pushes through, falls for the instinct he knows that rests in his gut. Blinded by the chaos around him, Adonis trusts his legs to carry him through, following the noise, the heat. The noise is cacophonous, like another rapture of the Gods meeting earth, fighting and trying all for the same destiny. Bodies fall. Bodies get thrown into the air. How did he think this was ever the beauty he wanted to chase?
The soft grasses are gone. The blue sky is gone. It’s grey and brown and red. The orange that burns on the peripheral of the shattering earth he can see around him.
He jumps over a few faces maybe he recognizes. He lurches forward and presses on, keeping the muzzle straight the best he can. If he misses, if a shot goes wide, that’d be it. There’s no room for failure. There’s no room to practice or get used to the environment-- it’s only what he thinks is right.
So Adonis runs towards the ruin. It’s what he wants. It’s all he knows right now. The anger from the mistreatment of his general only adds fuel to the fire that burns like the smoke in his lung. Desertion or not, he is going to the one thing he set out for. Doing something good.
“Mortar! Get down!”
It erupts, like a clashing symphony. The voice sounds far away, but the blast explodes right in front of him. He can feel the heat, feel the ground break and fissure from underneath him. The cries of other soldiers around him deafens his ear more than the ringing of the explosion. Adonis scrambles to catch himself, catch his breath, catch his footing. He fails. The aches in his body as he slams back down against the ground. He coughs, he cries. It does nothing. As he inhales, only does the pain evolve into the waves of fire that lick up into his chest from below his ribs. Adonis screams, unable to muster much else. Any movement, twisting of the area, makes the fire burn hotter. Brighter.
He feels his uniform spread with a stickiness that’s warm, cools the pain but still, keeps him warm. Shrapnel. He doesn’t need to guess, as the explosion’s debris must’ve been sent everywhere. Particularly, him.
Adonis welcomes it. He doesn’t know what else will keep him warm, and focuses on the pain to keep him awake. There’s stillness then, across the ground. The dust settles, coats him like a blanket. He turns his face to the bodies that lay in front of him, unable to tell where one body ends and another begins. He thinks he’s crying.
He doesn’t know what else to do. The choice is made for him, again.
Desertion. Dishonor. Laying in the ground without glory or the sunshine he wishes he could still feel. He wishes he could be home. Or, a library.
* * *
2 May 20██
Arcite ██████,
It is with our deepest condolences that we write to you today to inform you that Adonis Marazin has been reported Missing In Action after a battle on Wednesday the 23rd of April 20██. We are sorry for your loss. You were the only contact listed in Private Marazin’s files and we ask for you to contact us back if there has been a mistake or an issue.
Ministry of War
* * *
He knocks on the only door he knows to turn to, when the weather turns warmer and rose buds bloomed into flowers. Athens is beautiful this time of year and he’s missed it during his time at university. Adonis would visit this house each holiday, gripping a hand of a lover so tightly, scared of a bad impression each time. There’s no hand to hold for strength this time. Sheepishly, he knocks on the door. Once. Twice.
The relief that enters his body when warm chocolate eyes meet his at the door, dark and tired, but his eyes just the same. There’s a moment in that quiet. Arcite’s eyes scan Adonis’ body frantically, zeroing on the left hand that holds at his side. Neither of them are able to say something. Adonis can barely think how long it’s been, and feels like a whole world has separated the two of them. He reaches out, and holds his shoulder. The warmth from Arcite’s body that seeps into his palm feels better than any sunlight.
“I promised you I’d come back.”
“Adonis--”
They fall into each other, like no time had passed at all. Soft curls that tickle the bottom of Arcite’s chin, and slender arms that wrap around the other’s small frame. Maybe they deserve a happy ending. Maybe that’s all that they’re owed. The world doesn’t forgive, nor forgets, but sometimes gives back to the small few of virtue that deserve something good.
Arcite tells him, sometime later, with kind, welcoming touch and soft kisses. “Then it's because of Ares that you lived, and no other… I prayed every day for you, that he'd give you mercy. Maybe that’s it… That all’s fair in love and war.”