Almost, at times, a Fool
Nov. 14th, 2019 01:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Title: Almost, at times, a Fool
Fandom: Hamlet
Verse: Ohtori AU
Characters: Fortinbras, Hamlet
Summary: Fortinbras, in the Confession Elevator, takes what is offered to him, and then he takes what is not.
Word Count: 302
Warnings: violence, suicidal ideation, manipulation
Fortinbras spins the black ring with the rose seal around and around his finger until its blur matches the elevator descending among one hundred coffins. It’s time to decide what world he will leave behind him.
He recalls how the Rose Bride serves him tea and cake and ices, and he knows how easily that ice can melt into the water which drowns. He knows, too, the names of the poisons which are harder to detect under an overwhelming and unbearable sweetness. But if he makes Ophelia his own, at least he’d be safe from her maneuvering, he thinks. She might continue to despise him but under the rules of the game she’d have less room to act on that feeling, and isn’t that akin to safety in a place like this?
Ohtori is in crisis already, so he’d hardly be pushing the moment at all, but seizing it for himself. It’s what he deserves and what his father deserves, and why shouldn’t he do what Hamlet’s always done?
You are not Prince Hamlet, nor were meant to be, whispers the voice in his head that always sounds disturbingly similar to Chairman Dansker’s.
No, but he could have been, he thinks. When he’s done sobbing he stands up so quickly that the chair he’s been in falls over, its clang echoing too loudly in the confessional booth silence. It’s time to revolutionize the world.
The prince paces before him with no mind to any audience he might have, and goes back and forth on whether he has the strength to his quietus make. The question that throbs at the skull of Fortinbras now is “Do I dare? and do I dare?” He finds his answer in the blade he pulls from Hamlet’s chest.
Fandom: Hamlet
Verse: Ohtori AU
Characters: Fortinbras, Hamlet
Summary: Fortinbras, in the Confession Elevator, takes what is offered to him, and then he takes what is not.
Word Count: 302
Warnings: violence, suicidal ideation, manipulation
And would it have been worth it after all?
Fortinbras spins the black ring with the rose seal around and around his finger until its blur matches the elevator descending among one hundred coffins. It’s time to decide what world he will leave behind him.
He recalls how the Rose Bride serves him tea and cake and ices, and he knows how easily that ice can melt into the water which drowns. He knows, too, the names of the poisons which are harder to detect under an overwhelming and unbearable sweetness. But if he makes Ophelia his own, at least he’d be safe from her maneuvering, he thinks. She might continue to despise him but under the rules of the game she’d have less room to act on that feeling, and isn’t that akin to safety in a place like this?
Ohtori is in crisis already, so he’d hardly be pushing the moment at all, but seizing it for himself. It’s what he deserves and what his father deserves, and why shouldn’t he do what Hamlet’s always done?
You are not Prince Hamlet, nor were meant to be, whispers the voice in his head that always sounds disturbingly similar to Chairman Dansker’s.
No, but he could have been, he thinks. When he’s done sobbing he stands up so quickly that the chair he’s been in falls over, its clang echoing too loudly in the confessional booth silence. It’s time to revolutionize the world.
The prince paces before him with no mind to any audience he might have, and goes back and forth on whether he has the strength to his quietus make. The question that throbs at the skull of Fortinbras now is “Do I dare? and do I dare?” He finds his answer in the blade he pulls from Hamlet’s chest.