✹ Emanuel Capulet ✹ “The Soft Husband.”
7/12/26 Backstory for my roleplay character.
Trigger warning: injury, domestic abuse, mentions of war.
Emanuel Capulet, first born of House of Capulet, was raised alongside many siblings, cousins, friends and other relatives. Lord and Lady Capulet were the shining standard for a ruling household and a healthy relationship. Perhaps due to previous generations feuding, and the infamous star crossed lovers, the standard was set for acceptance and love, and pointless fighting was shunned. Thanks to the family's past, Emanuel was raised to believe in true love, acceptance, and to solve issues without violence…
In his youth, Emanuel enjoyed far, playful competition, spending time in nature and with animals, especially his favorite horse and dog. Due to the large family he was raised in, he spent a lot of his time taking care of his younger siblings and cousins who often created little dolls or structures out of sticks and plants. Eventually this evolved into intricate flower crowns that they would “bestow” upon Emanuel, hinting at his eventual rise to Lord Capulet. He also loved to roughhouse and often showed his affection through physical touch such as big hugs and playful pushing. This habit of his was broken one evening when he pushed his dear sister to the ground, breaking her arm in the process. Besides his immediate regret, his family still verbally disciplined him for many days. He vowed to be more careful with his strength there on out. After all, he could never shake the sound of his sister’s cries and screams.
When Emanuel came to age, his family had wasted no time finding him a proper match with another high ranking Household in Verona. It was not hard to win the other household over as Emanuel was surely a sight for sore eyes and held a warmth and charm unmatched by other lords his age. The evening he met his soon to be wife, to say it simply, he fell in love. They danced and talked all night throughout his family's ball, seeming to both have so much in common, their energies perfectly matched. They engaged in playful banter, light hearted jokes and stole many tender moments throughout the night. But unlike him, she was more of a fighter, with a desire to win and succeed as her motivation in life. Whereas he spoke more softly, she was a presence to be reckoned with. Given this, they balanced each other for many years and she even coined a pet name for him… “my soft husband” which he wore with great honor. They raised two children together, both girls, whom became his pride and joy.
Years passed and Italy fell into a time of war with a nearby country, all men were to report to the battlefield in honor of the Ruler of Verona. Emanuel had the heart wrenching job of sending a number of his knights and staff to their fate. Many did not return and in time, Emanuel himself was requested to join the fight due to the country's desperate state. Lady Capulet, his wife, felt strongly about the political state of the war and wanted nothing more than for Italy to be victorious. She urged him to accept the request and to fight for his country, since she could not go herself. He refused… at first. One night, they bickered back and forth as he expressed his distaste and hatred for the war, his fear of death, never seeing his loved ones again, but most of all, his fear of hurting others. “This is not what I’m meant for, I was not put on this earth to destroy others.” He cried.
She belittled him, “I did not realize I had married a coward!” They continued to bicker, their voices growing louder, echoing down the halls into his young daughters' rooms, where they listened.
A sudden smack could faintly be heard, followed by silence… Emanuel held the sore spot on his temple, in complete shock; his hair laid over his face from the impact. There he looked upon his furious and unforgiving wife, still red in the face with rage. The result of that night on his psyche did not settle in until he was hundreds of miles from his home...
…Emanuel managed to survive his time on the battlefield, though was not spared from the sights and horrors that would haunt him for years after. Likely he only survived due to his own gutlessness, with a single desire to see his family once more. To make things worse, Italy retreated and had no choice to wave a white flag. On the carriage ride home, bandaged from some major and minor wounds, he dreamt of the night he danced at the ball with his wife. There he stayed in his mind, like a child wrapped in their favorite blanket. Nearing home, he hoped his wife would be happy for his safe return... But that was far from reality. Not only was she disappointed with the country’s loss, but blamed Emanuel’s lack of effort in battle. She used the pet name he so cherished as an insult, “My soft, pathetic husband who could not even do his duty and die for his country.” When she laid hands on him again, he considered defending himself, but the screams of his dear sister from years ago erupted in his mind and he fell completely still.
Perhaps it was the hatred in her heart or the guilt of how she’d treated her husband, but Lady Capulet passed suddenly a year later. Confused, tormented, and grieving… Emanuel comforted his daughters, and stayed by his wife’s grave for many days, caressing the silver ring around his finger. He still loved her. In her loss, a strange weight was lifted from his shoulders and mind, but now an even heavier weight was planted in his chest. He removed his ring and instead decorated a necklace with both their promises, a way to keep his wife near his beating heart. Perhaps this way she could keep listening and be reminded of his existence which he fought for.
On a warm spring afternoon, Emanuel sits beside his siblings and friends on the grassy earth, who teach his daughters how to create the flower crowns they once laid upon Emanuel's head. He only speaks of his favorite memories of his wife.
