Set in an AU where Hamlet continued loving Ophelia. This is just a drabble I wrote in my Theology journal.
"Good Horatio!" Hamlet, prince of Denmark, suited himself with a radiant smile as he hugged his close friend and former scholar. "How art thou this day?"
Horatio grinned in greeting. "I am well, my lord. But I carry with me saddening and sobering news."
Hamlet's cheerful face instantly disappeared. He swallowed thickly. "It does not concern sweet Ophelia; I beseech of you, let it not ring true!"
The man's fist clenched, his eyes brimming with worry for his good and caring love. Hamlet had taken note of her new, strange ways, and her sobbing seemed to echo through floors and into his ears when the witching hour arrived.
He had wished, many times over, that he could take Ophelia away to a place that was not troubled with madness, greed, and incestuous marriages.
"Ophelia drowned herself in the waters yesternight. The kingdom is mourning her restless soul."
And then Hamlet was the one being sucked down into the depths, lungs gasping for air, instead of his good lady Ophelia.