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crack_van2009-10-09 08:06 am
pargoletta.livejournal.com) wrote in crack_van2009-10-09 08:06 am
Entry tags:
Good Night, Sweet Prince by Meltha (R)
Fandom: SHAKESPEARE -- HAMLET
Pairing: Hamlet/Horatio
Length: 2500 words
Author on LJ: n/a
Author Website: Meltha's Blackberry Patch
Why this must be read: So what was Hamlet like before he became the Melancholy Dane? He certainly talks a great deal about his young and presumably cheerful past, and he does have his college buddies, including Horatio, who stands devotedly at his side all the way from Act I through the bitter end (Act V, for those who are counting). Just how close are they, and how did they get to be that way? Meltha gives us a glimpse at a happier time, with a teenage Hamlet and Horatio in that particular convergence of youth and status where the world really is their oyster . . . and yet they each want just one thing more.
“I do,” Horatio breathed. “A thousand times, I do. The sun has never kissed your cheek that I was not joining my lips with his on your skin in imagination, nor the breeze sift through the golden curls of your hair but my fingers followed phantom-wise, nor the chill of winter force you to draw your arms close about yourself but I would that it had been me they drew closer to warm you. Hamlet, I need no ale to make me drunk but the liquor of your sighs. Will you not give me to drink of them this night?”
Good Night, Sweet Prince
Pairing: Hamlet/Horatio
Length: 2500 words
Author on LJ: n/a
Author Website: Meltha's Blackberry Patch
Why this must be read: So what was Hamlet like before he became the Melancholy Dane? He certainly talks a great deal about his young and presumably cheerful past, and he does have his college buddies, including Horatio, who stands devotedly at his side all the way from Act I through the bitter end (Act V, for those who are counting). Just how close are they, and how did they get to be that way? Meltha gives us a glimpse at a happier time, with a teenage Hamlet and Horatio in that particular convergence of youth and status where the world really is their oyster . . . and yet they each want just one thing more.
“I do,” Horatio breathed. “A thousand times, I do. The sun has never kissed your cheek that I was not joining my lips with his on your skin in imagination, nor the breeze sift through the golden curls of your hair but my fingers followed phantom-wise, nor the chill of winter force you to draw your arms close about yourself but I would that it had been me they drew closer to warm you. Hamlet, I need no ale to make me drunk but the liquor of your sighs. Will you not give me to drink of them this night?”
Good Night, Sweet Prince