A/N: This is a bit different style of writing than I am used to and feel free to critique me. I don't really mind it but just not make them flames. R&R please. Oh, and I don't own any of these characters, nor would I want to, because it would be too sad for me to end up killing them. Also, if anyone has read Ophelia, then I kind of add some of that in it too, because Ophelia wasn't defined well enough for me in Hamlet. It's a good book, read it. Oh and by the way, some of my quotes are just random and I put them up because I like them and I want to share with the world of their loveliness. 3
Act 1 Scene 1
"Friendship is the gateway to love."
The leaves were browning, bringing the land around Elsinore colour and vibrancy. Horatio walked outside on the turrets, hissing softly at the sting of the chill wind. He welcomed the cold air that whipped his fair hair around his face. He felt the presence of people walk behind him, their articles of clothing brushing the walls and the stone floor in their anticipation to arrive at some destination. Horatio was however, not in a hurry to get anywhere. He felt a peace at standing on the turrets, high above the grounds, like time had stood still for him; especially when he could watch the coloured leaves floating languidly down.
His stomach clenched, as he was drawn away from watching everything, and yet nothing, happening. He felt a malicious growl coming forth from his lips, and his brows furrowed together, forming a line. Hamlet was gallivanting on the grounds with Ophelia, and the sight hurt his eyes, as his breath caught in his throat.
It wasn't so much that he and Hamlet wouldn't go around anymore; it was more the fact that Hamlet was spending a great deal of time with Ophelia. He emitted another growl as he thought of Ophelia and Hamlet. And in his head, he understood what the problem was. It was Ophelia.
Because in vain he loved Ophelia, for she could never, would never, be his. Her heart belonged to Hamlet and Hamlets belonged to her; he could never intrude.
He never thought he could love plain Ophelia, but she had grown into a pretty face that had looked unsightly at her young age. Now she was beautiful, the essence of a fairy tale and the Queen's assistant. But Ophelia was more or less a secret; her affair with Hamlet was not known with the people around Elsinore. They were dressed in peasant clothes, and only someone who knew that they were dressed like that would ever guess around their façade.
He felt at ease, seeing them go out of seeing range. The tears stopped coming, and he wiped the last of the tears trickling down his face.
Ophelia half walked- half ran back to her bedchambers, her rosy cheeks red from the cold; the peasant clothes were want of warmth. She threw herself on her bed, relishing in its warmth, and wrapping herself deep in its lavish covers.
She slept until dawn.
There was a knocking on the door, and she threw the covers unceremoniously off, petulantly raising her body, and shuffling her feet towards the oaken door. She pulled the door open, trying not to wake the nearby rooms with the door's squeaks. She lifted her heavy eyelids, the figure in front of her blurry with the remnants of sleep.
"Good er...very early morning, Ophelia," The deep, husky voice said, a calming sound that almost sent her back to sleep. She swayed on her feet, her vision sharpening, and identifying the broad shoulders, and fair curly hair that tumbled around his hazel eyes; he was woken just then too.
"Yes...good terribly early morning to you too. Horatio," She said with a smile, still blinking furiously, her eyes threatening to close with drowsiness. "Er...come in, good friend." She said beckoning to the stuffed chairs near the darkened windows. She walked over and collapsed in a chair, holding her head in her hands.
"Are you alright Ophelia?" Horatio asked tentatively, peering at her. She looks up, "Oh, I'm just very tired, that's all" she says, her eyes brightening. She shrugged, and as Horatio looked into her eyes, he saw there was little trace of her sleepiness left in them.
"Really? And..." he already knew the answer to the question, "What did you do today?" he asked, trying to muster up something that sounded like curiosity. At this, her eyes lit up, and she livened up, and leaned forward.
"Well, I'm only telling you because Hamlet is your friend, as am I, and obviously I-sorry, we trust you. Hamlet is courting me, and it's a secret. Isn't that thrilling? The risk of it is indescribable, and it quite scary at some points. He took me to that pond, you remember, right? Where Edmund," she made a face at his name, "Tried to drown me. But Hamlet did not," she said, letting out a pleasant peal of laughter, "Hamlet already had a picnic set out for us, it was very lovely." She said sighing, falling back on the chair, closing her eyes with contentment. Horatio's eyes darkened, and Ophelia noticed, and she sat back up, concerned.
"Horatio? Is everything well? I am quite sorry that Hamlet and you don't see each other much." She said, sadness and worry flooding her eyes.
"Yes, everything is fine. I am merely tired, and what with me and Hamlet going on the hunting trip tomorrow, I shall be even more so." He said. Ophelia smirked.
"But Horatio, you are forgetting the it is very early in the morning, and tomorrow, is really today." She said with a giggle. She grabbed Horatio's hand and squeezed it. "I am glad we are such good friends." Horatio's eyes widened.
"Yes, as am I," he did not remove his hand, and neither did Ophelia. She leaned closer to him. Horatio felt that it was then, and even if she didn't remember later on in the day, he would know. He leaned in to kiss her, but she drew back like a startled snake. Horatio closed his eyes in despair and disappointment. She shook her head in confusion and worry.
"Horatio, I am not that happy we're friends." She looked into the hazel eyes and frowned. "I love you like a brother; we can always be the best of friends you know, but nothing more." He sighed and got up.
"I'm sorry I woke you. I had not meant to, only, I had something important I had to say," he gazed of into space, trying to remember why he had come in the first place. "Only, I have forgotten what it is."
"I give you leave to come and find me when you remember," Ophelia tried. He smiled at her efforts.
"I don't think I'll need to do that." He said as he got up and walked through the door. "Good er, morning Ophelia."
A/N: Whee! I was going through my files and I found this with a multitude of mistakes, and I fixed most of them. I also forgot where I was going with the story, so I made up a new plot which I think is better. So thanks for reading!!