Work Text:
Paris was boring, but France had sea.
Laertes’s lover, Delphine, turned out to be a nice girl with a defaulter father and a rich aunt who waited for the right conditions to provide her niece with money that wouldn’t be spent right away.
Ophelia and Magdalena, still in disguise, found in Paris a place to stay, convincing their landlord that they were students (despite the summer holidays). They would play a married couple, but it was hard considering small height and high voices. Still, Ophelia quite liked men’s attire and was entertaining the thought of buying a fake beard (which made Magdalena burst into laughter every time it was mentioned in their discussions about future plans).
But we started with the sea.
It was perfectly warm and much more beautiful than the boring grey ports of Denmark or Germany.
The girls’ getaway was supposed to be short, but they failed to make themselves leave after only one week.
Back in Paris, they received a letter, a print (a copy of the one already familiar to us) and a coin purse, cleverly disguised as a Bible. It was sent by Hamlet and Horatio, and Ophelia couldn’t decide on the most probable suspects of disclosing their address (their names most likely started with R and/or G, and less likely with L) and what cruel thing to do with them next time she would see them.
They also received a couple of letters from Elsinore that described the reaction to their escape, but “forgot” to read them (the letters said, however, that Magdalena’s parents disowned her and decided to take a break from court and retire to their country mansion; and Polonius stuck with the old kidnapping version and mourned heavily, until Laertes risked and dropped a hint of his French lover, which set the wedding wheels in motion once again).
The girls spent their days at a tiny beach, hidden from the rest of the world, throwing rocks into the water, eating fruits, reading, enjoying sun rays on their once pale faces, and, of course, bathing. Most often, at night. Most often, not even in their chemises.
It wasn’t that the stars here were much different from those in Denmark but they shone brighter, warmer, richer. And what a delight it was for Ophelia to see their reflection in Magdalena's eyes and to see it broken when Magdalena closed them laughing, when her eyelashes fluttered with pleasure. Wet sand on salty skin and in tangled hair was a nuisance yet the only thing preventing kisses, licks and soft bites.
No one could see them, and they only existed for each other.