Chapter Text
Once upon a time in Denmark, there was a boy. And a girl. And a boy. There was Hamlet, the prince, the future king, even. More than anything, he was just a boy-- he scribbled poetry in his notebooks, he roughhoused with his best friends, he loved his mother, feared his father-- you see, what many do not realize is that just because a man is meant to have an heir does not mean he is meant to be a father.
His only friends were two companions brought to Elsinore castle solely for his entertainment, who had grown into the dearest people in his life, alongside his mother, who coddled him, perhaps, and shielded him from his father’s mistempers. These two boys showed him love in the way only children can-- easy and pure, unselfconscious. For the most vulnerable years of his life, Hamlet spent every day with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. Until, on a whim, his father decided he did not want his son constantly in the palace, being far too loud and far too present, with mere commoners, no less. He was to be king, for God’s sake, he had to grow up already. And so, at the age of seven, the boys were sent away, and never spoken of within those walls for the rest of Hamlet’s childhood, indeed, for the rest of King Hamlet’s rule.
And so, the boy-- Hamlet-- was sent off to spend his days with the children of a trusted advisor-- this way, he would not be underfoot; out of sight, out of mind, and Polonius would ensure nothing untoward happened. He was really intended to play only with the son, Laertes, but there was no stopping his sister from joining in.
A bold, bright-eyed girl overflowing with kindness and laughter, Ophelia looked up to her brother, followed him through the trees, and often led him, truly, as she, at that time, was fearless.
Laertes was a sweet boy, if overprotective of his sister, shielding her from imaginary dangers as the two spent their days in the fields beyond their manor. The one place where he never had to feel like he was different or didn’t belong. Of course, their father never ventured out into their property.
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The children were formally introduced by Polonius before being sent out onto the property to do whatever it was that children did. Any awkwardness dissipated as Ophelia showered the prince with questions about his life, his favourite foods and colours and what it was like to live in a castle. Her energy was contagious and the conversation turned into a game as Hamlet imitated and exaggerated the mannerisms of the court, Ophelia assuming her own role, drawing on her father’s business meetings which she had spied on more than a few times and encouraging Laertes to join in. Their laughter reached the treetops, signaling the beginning of many years of joy.
The three became completely inseparable, spending nearly every day together for years upon years. Their games of acting and mockery evolved and became more dramatic. Laertes showed Hamlet how to climb the great tall trees behind the manor and how to swim in their small pond. Ophelia braided flowers into his unruly hair and taught him the folk songs her mother had sung to her before her untimely death.
As they grew older many facets of their lives changed. Wrestling and tree-climbing were replaced by fencing practice, games of pretend by poetry recitations. Ophelia’s sense of humour sharpened into a quick wit. Laertes, on the other hand, grew only quieter with time as his father kept a closer eye on him, his boisterous childhood giving way to a pensive adolescence, though his sweet demeanor never wavered. Hamlet developed a somewhat sarcastic disposition, hard to the world, to everyone except for the two people who made up his world. For when the three of them were together, all inhibitions disappeared, only love and honesty remained. This, they knew, was the one thing that would never change with time. At least, they believed it so wholeheartedly that no one could have convinced them otherwise. Not then.