Chapter Text
By the time Laertes and I get back to the wedding (it is perfectly reasonable to walk out of your mother's wedding and then attempt to kill yourself, what are you talking about?) the main ceremony is over.
So this is how it shall be, Claudius and my mother. Her brother in law.
See if I care.
See if I care, see if I react when my incestuous nightmare of a mother finally brings our family's downfall.
The ceremony ends and I immediately stand to find Laertes. I'm sick of them telling me what to do.
It's all 'you can't kiss a boy, Hamlet' and 'you can't wear a dress, Hamlet- you're going to be King soon, for fuck's sake' . I don't care anymore- everyone's courting who they like anyway, I may as well join in.
Laertes is towards the back of the Cathedral, sitting next to Ophelia and Polonius. Ophelia immediately spots me as I walk by and she smiles at me, sweetly.
It's going to break her heart, I already know. It's going to destroy her.
What she needs- what Denmark needs is a man. I am no such thing. I have no ambition to be.
Laertes finally looks up at me, and I watch his face change as his eyes meet mine. Ophelia sits between us, and they're both looking at me- they're both fucking looking.
Fuck.
'Laertes- I-' I make a gesture with my hand towards the exit of the hall. Almost everyone else has already left, presumably to continue the festivities elsewhere. I have no intention of continuing this- this world-ending event.
'Hamlet. I don't think I have yet publicly given my condolences.'
And I'm looking at him- right? I'm looking at him, looking at his- his perfect face- and I-
I've never been so glad my father is dead.
I can do what I like.
Norway's invading soon anyway. They can take it- they can take it all, if I can keep Laertes.
Hamlet and I sit opposite each other on a patch of grass outside the West side of Elsinore. His eyes flit constantly between my eyes and my mouth. I don't know where to look so I just stare at his hands, fidgeting with blades of grass, occasionally hovering over his sword, as if the urge is already back.
'Laertes,' his voice is thick and I'm drowning in it. 'Do you promise me nobody will find us here? I need to know I can speak freely.'
'I told you, I've been here before, it's almost inaccessible if you're coming out of the castle's main exit.'
'Have you been here with Ophelia?' he looks behind his shoulder, as if she's going to discover us any second now.
I frown, and I can tell it's noticeable because Hamlet swears under his breath and flops back onto the grass.
'You're upset because of something I said,' he says, factually.
'You always seem to bring it back to my fucking sister. I keep telling you she doesn't see you in that way. One of these days you need to decide-' I pause, what the fuck am I saying?
'Go on,' he smirks at me. Everything he does is princely, he will always be above me, he will always be better.
'One of these days you need to decide who you want to kiss, me or her.'
Hamlet's face contorts into an indecipherable expression. Fuck this, I've messed it all up. I get up and start walking back towards the palace.
'No- I-' he grabs my arm.
'Leave me alone- we can't- it's-'
Laertes is a good kisser.
That statement makes me sound like I've kissed half of Denmark to make that conclusion, I'm well aware.
And I'm not going to lie to you, it's not far from the truth.
I've only ever- I've only ever kissed one girl. It was Ophelia, unfortunately (unfortunately for both her and me- and possibly Laertes depending on where this leads) and I ran off crying the second it was over.
We must have been around fourteen.
I think we both understood then, what it meant, what I was.
She swore she didn't mind but I see how she looks at me. I fear she will never get over it.
I snap back into the moment and find that Laertes has stepped away from me, he's messing with his hair and looking awkwardly at the floor.
'I'm sorry-'
'It's fine it's just- you kinda zoned out, it's weird to kiss someone who's zoning out.' he smiles at me.
I sit down cross-legged in the flowers and Laertes copies, sitting beside me.
'I need to tell you something.'
He's going to hate me.
He's going to hate me I already know, this is going to kill us, all of it.
'That you're interested in men? I think I gathered that, actually,' he ruffles my hair. 'Your hair's getting kind of long.'
'Actually related to what I wanted to talk to you about.'
'What is it?'
'So I- shit- nevermind.'
'The suspense is killing me.'
'I- Laertes-'
'God, just tell me.'
I look at him, and he's mostly relaxed except for his eyebrows, which are tightly drawn together.
'I wear dresses sometimes.'
'Pardon?'
I stand up- my hand impulsively reaches for my sword, or a bottle of poison or anything, but it's not worth it, not this time, not for him.
'I knew you were going to be a dick about this-'
'No- it's fine, I'm just- I'm just trying to understand. Do you think you're a girl or something?'
'No.'
'It's just- I don't know- you're-'
'A man?'
'Yeah.'
'Am I, though?'
Laertes looks at me, suddenly understanding, or at least partially processing what I have said. He leans in and kisses me, quickly, before he starts walking back to the castle.
Fuck.