WWI-verse Anarchist AU

[ay_my_lord]

*Horatio has a room in a lodging-house not far from the castle; he shares the house with three other men on his floor and an extended family on the floor above him. his belongings, he has largely left in Wittenberg, on the (perhaps vain) hope that the war will soon be over and he will be able to return within a few months' time at most.

with his fellow-lodgers at work, though, he has the narrow front room to himself--or rather, in this case, to himself and Hamlet. he is pouring out tea for them, his spectacles slipping down his nose* I'm glad you came to call today. I'd been hoping I'd hear from you soon--it's been awkward trying to get back to the castle without a wedding invitation.

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[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*puts sugar (and then more sugar) in his tea, then pushes his spectacles up his nose and sits in the chair by Hamlet* So, uh ... you've met someone.

[willnotbenow.livejournal.com]

In the moonlight, on a rocky shore, like in a Gothic horror -- except I was the maniac instead of the maiden. And I wasn't actually going to fall off a cliff. I might have later. *stretching and unstretching his hand, thoughtful* He says he's going to help me.

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

Help you with ...? *and then sudden comprehension* You told him about it?

[willnotbenow.livejournal.com]

*an odd little smile* I think I was meant to.

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*low, worried* Do you think we can trust him?

[willnotbenow.livejournal.com]

I think he wants the same thing. *acknowledging that's rather a different question* And I think we can trust him.

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

Who is it? Someone I know?

[willnotbenow.livejournal.com]

*that same odd smile* Laertes. Ophelia's brother.

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*blinks* ...

...

... I thought you and Ophelia were ...

[willnotbenow.livejournal.com]

*confused 'go on, finish that thought' look*

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*a little lamely* Practically engaged?

[willnotbenow.livejournal.com]

*reallyconfused* I didn't know that. Were you going to tell me?

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

But you were writing those sweet notes to her, telling her how much you missed her and comparing her to ... *can't remember exactly* ... something astronomical ...

[willnotbenow.livejournal.com]

I did miss her -- she was our friend since we were young, and she couldn't come to Wittenberg with us, so I wanted her to know I was still thinking about her. And she was like a far-off star in the belt of shining Andromeda. *-- puts the most frankly ridiculous things in his letters ever* ... And I wrote you sweet notes, too! I wrote you that one in class that made you blush to the back of your ears -- because I wanted to see you blush like that. But I wrote it!

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*as he remembers what he'd read in class, the back of his neck goes very red--at least his collar covers it* And that was it? You just wrote it to her because she was your friend? *pause* Does she know that?

[willnotbenow.livejournal.com]

I thought she ... *bites his lip -- and compared to staging a coup, his stupidboy-troubles are so refreshingly ordinary, but* But I said things, sometimes, when I was feeling sentimental and playful ... I said things to everyone, and I meant them when I said them, but the way I said them was a little extravagant, a little romantic, and no one took that seriously. You never took me seriously, did you? *-- see, this is where Hamlet's practice pretending to be mad came from, from playing the fool for his schoolmates, and that's part of why it's so hard playing prince, being dignified and responsible for what he does and says -- no one takes that seriously, do they? yes, Hamlet, they do*

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*a weak little smile* Never really. Sometimes, at first, I would think you were completely serious ... and then it would all spin out into a gigantic joke, and I'd just have to be there laughing with you.

[willnotbenow.livejournal.com]

*quiet, small* I never hurt you, did I?

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

Of course not. *takes his hand, and takes a sip of his tea to steady himself* You've never hurt me.

[willnotbenow.livejournal.com]

*looking down at their hands, smiling a crooked half-smile* Not when you kissed me?

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

You did confuse me. *squeezes his hand, and lets go* But it was my fault for playing along.

[willnotbenow.livejournal.com]

I suppose so. *just looking at his own hand, now* I suppose it was strange, and unexpected. And when something strange and unexpected happens, you can't do anything better than laugh about it. I kept half-hoping --

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

*quiet, waiting for him to finish--if he shouldn't make to speak, Horatio will ask gently* What did you hope, or half-hope?

[willnotbenow.livejournal.com]

It doesn't matter. It's ridiculous now -- all of it is. I've been trying to make a joke of whatever's happening with Laertes, just so it can exist -- so that even if it isn't real, I can still talk about it and laugh about it as if it were. The more ridiculous it sounds, playing husband and wife or characters from a Gothic horror, the better off it is, because then it won't risk being true. Nothing feels true -- nothing that isn't about murder, or vengeance, or regicide, or rebellion -- and everything else is ridiculous. Untruths are better off. But for a moment I ... *curling his fingers, to keep from shaking -- it's harder, now, everything is so hard -- and looking up with a perfect, teasing smile* ... You know something? Those spectacles are adorable on you. Whenever I see them, I want to kiss the bridge of your nose and fix them for you. I think it's because they always need to be fixed.

[ay-my-lord.livejournal.com]

Now you're being absurd with me, because you want to make me blush. *and he is blushing* And anyway lots of Gothic horrors are about murder and vengeance, and some of them are about regicide, too. It's real, too ... at least a little bit.