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The Prince

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Hamlet trudged through the dark halls of the castle as the last sounds of dinner rang across the marble, his cloak swished behind him on the as his shoes slapped the floor. With a grunt, he threw open the door to his room to reveal Horatio sitting in a chair in the corner with a book open in his lap. This wasn’t an unusual occurrence as the two were good friends and Horatio had been sent to watch over the young prince many times. Hearing the door, he looked up with a curiosity which slowly changed to worry as he took in the anger on Hamlet’s face.

“What is it, My lord?” he asked, slowly shutting the book and setting it on the table before him. Hamlet didn’t respond, instead choosing to close the door and sit in the chair across from Horatio with a sigh as he brought a hand up to rub at his temple. Horatio raised an eyebrow, looking at him with concern as Hamlet pushed a stray hair off his forehead with his free hand.

“It was my damn uncle..father...whatever. He decided that, as he is now the supposed head of the family, we should sit together and have a meal. As if he could call this a family? A family of murder maybe, not like he would care. And my dear, mother, sat back and acted as though he had been sent down for god. Oh, Horatio,” Hamlet murmured, groaning and rubbing his eyes before lowering his hands to his lap. Horatio nodded, his brows furrowed

“My lord Hamlet, I understand and I am sorry. What do you think you will do?” When the king was involved, there really was no way to soothe his anguish, only to listen to whatever idea had sparked. Hamlet shifted in the chair, the discomfort from the meal coming back as he summons the memory.
“I do not know what I will do, yet I do.”

“What do you mean?” Horatio wondered aloud yet, Hamlet only grinned slyly as though he had been waiting for the question, eyes lifting to meet Horatio’s
“What I mean is I know what should be done and what he rightly deserves yet, I do not know whether it is an action I should take.” With that, Hamlet stood, smiling again, though softer than before, to Horatio before starting a slow pace across the room. Horatio knew that soft smile which graced the prince’s lips. Hamlet had a plan and he wanted to share.
“What is it that you are thinking, my lord?” He questioned, rising from the chair and walking over to the prince.

“You see, Horatio, if I do nothing he remains as he is with a hope of heaven still in his grasp and if I take action myself, the consequences may be deadly. He holds me in his grasps as he did my father yet, the hand holding my life is my own.” Horatio nodded slowly, beginning to say something but deciding against it. Seeing this, Hamlet raised an eyebrow but decided to continue on with his rant instead, Horatio nodding along and adding in comments when necessary.

After a few minutes, the plans lie exhausted on the floor, the two standing across from each other. The chatter had died down and Hamlet spent the silence studying Horatio’s face. His face was soft yet lined with age and the stress that came along with his knowledge. His eyes shone out a dark brown against the pale of his skin and the brown hair that opposed the blond on Hamlet’s very own head. He looked trustworthy, which was a good trait for someone in his place.
Horatio made a noise in question, breaking Hamlet from his trance.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” and Hamlet smiled, different than before as he walked over to Horatio quickly, pulling him close. He stared at him for a minute, eyes taking in the curve of his brow and the look of confusion in his soft eyes before placing a kiss to his lips. This wouldn’t be the first time the two had fooled around, though never getting much farther than maybe a handjob in the dark under the guise of Hamlet needing some watching over. Horatio smiled softly, kissing the prince back before bringing his arms up and around Hamlet’s waist as Hamlet rested his own hands in the other’s hair. Hamlet pulled back slowly, a smile spread across his face as though it was about to break

“Horatio, my sweet Horatio,” which earned him a grin in return
“Oh, how I wish we could tell others of what we can only share in the dark,”
“My lord,” Horatio warned, his eyes dark

“I know, they wouldn’t think too highly but, Image Horatio. Me, the king and you serving right beside me. Would that make you a queen? Or would they allow two kings just this once?” Horatio chuckled softly before bringing a hand to push back a strand of Hamlet’s hair.
“Do you love me?” Hamlet says softly, though his face doesn’t change. Horatio’s hand froze, his dark eyes looking to Hamlet’s light ones in question

“Love. You know, do you love me as one would say to another as we do in the dark,” Hamlet paused, scrunching his eyes in thought before continuing
“Do you love me as I say I love fair Ophelia? As I love you...Horatio..”
“Do you or do you not?”
“I have not put too much thought to it, My lord, but, I do suppose I do. If that is how you think of me, I can assure you that I return that feeling with as much as I can give,” as he finished, a smile crept onto his face as Hamlet kissed him again, slower than before as his eyes fluttered closed.

After a few minutes holding each other close, Horatio pulled back
“I must go,” he said softly, dragging a hand along Hamlet’s face before separating himself and leaving with a single glance back. Hamlet stood where he was, watching Horatio leave and softly shut the door behind him.

“Horatio,” he mused aloud, tugging off his dark cloak and sitting down on the bed in the center of the room.
“He thinks of me as I do him, I would never have imagined myself having such luck. I had the mere notion the first night we lie together, heavy in breath and in heart,” He sighed softly with a soft smile at the memory before lying down
“Oh, if only this had come at a better time, as long as I stay the king, my uncle, only deceives further. I must go to action in vengeance but what of Horatio? As I may lie in my grave, what is to become of him?” With this, he extinguishes the candle that sits on the table and returns to bed. After crawling under the covers, he examines the ceiling in deep thought as he thinks over what he plans to do but, mostly of Horatio.