Title: Almost Nobody Dies
Fandom: Hamlet
Rating: PG
Length: 862
Summary: Five times when things don't go as Hamlet expected, and once when he decided to make the best of a bad job.
A/N: Yes, this is crackfic, set at the time of the original play, but anachronistic language and attitudes.  With some violence and bad language.

It began when Hamlet was brought before Claudius, who demanded to know where he had hidden the body of Polonius.  After prevarication, Hamlet had given sufficient directions for them to find the body.  Only the guards returned to say it wasn’t there.

Claudius grabbed Hamlet and dragged him to the stairs where he claimed to have left the body.  Even Hamlet could see there was no body, nor any sign of the body having been taken there.  Fortunately Claudius seemed to take Hamlet’s surprise as being genuine and only hit him once.

“Think yourself lucky I believe you are mad,” Claudius said, “or I would beat the old man’s location out of you.”

Hamlet was packed off to England that night.

***

Hamlet lay on his bunk in the ship.  To all intents and purposes he was asleep, but he could hear the conversation between Rosencrantz and Guildenstern.  As they continued Hamlet became more alarmed until he heard Guildenstern say, “What’s wrong with you?”

“I don’t see why Lord Hamlet has to be killed.  He doesn’t deserve it,” Rosencrantz said.

“Safest way all round.”

“It doesn’t seem right.”  Was there a tremor in Rosencrantz’s voice?

“What?  Oh, for f*k’s sake, you’re in love with him.”  Guildenstern’s laughter sounded very harsh.

Up until that point, Hamlet had been intending to turn the tables on the pair, but he didn’t have the heart to have poor lovesick Rosencrantz killed, so he bargained with the pirates to not only get himself set back on his homeland, but Rosencrantz too, although further away.

***

Back in Elsinore, Hamlet hammered on the castle door.  When it was opened he demanded to be taken to the king.  He was shown into the main hall, where Laertes greeted him surprisingly warmly.

“I asked to see the king,” Hamlet stated.

“And indeed you are.”  Laertes bowed to him.  “I am now King of Denmark.”

“But where’s Claudius?”

“Scarpered.  I arrived with some armed men, he took one look at us and left by the back door.”

“But I am the true heir to the throne.  Old Hamlet was my father and Claudius took the throne by trickery.  It is mine by right.”

“Ah.”  Laertes turned to one of the courtiers.  “Could you ask Queen Gertrude to join us?”

***

Gertrude had been delighted to have her son back.  She made a fuss of him, until he insisted on asserting his rightful position.

Laertes said, “I think, madam, it would be best if you explained.”

Gertrude pulled Hamlet away from the others, to sit in a secluded bower with her and began, “The thing is Hamlet, old Hamlet wasn’t your father.  Claudius and I have been seeing each other for years and you’re actually Claudius’ son.”

“What?”  All heads turned at Hamlet’s shout.  “Did my father, I mean old Hamlet, know?”

“Yes, he was aware.  The thing is, there were certain things he couldn’t do, so when I became pregnant it was a bit of a giveaway.  But he wanted an heir, so he didn’t say anything.”

Hamlet jumped up and strode towards Laertes, “But I am still nephew to the true king.”

“But you know Denmark’s laws: if a king abdicates he does so also on behalf of his direct descendents.”

Hamlet fumed and then a thought struck him.  “Why aren’t you wearing mourning clothes?”

“What?  Oh, you hadn’t killed Dad.  He fainted at the shock.  He’s fine and even thinking of marrying again.”

“In which case,” Hamlet took a deep breath, maybe something good would come out of the whole fiasco.  “I would like to ask for your sister’s hand in marriage.”

***

Hamlet waited impatiently whilst someone went to find Ophelia.  He tried hard not to think of the triangle between old Hamlet (his presumed father), Claudius (his biological father) and Gertrude (incontestably his mother).  He tried even harder not to think of the suspiciously girlish giggle his mother had made at Laertes’ comment about Polonius marrying again.  And he definitely wasn’t going to dwell on where that could end up.

Finally Ophelia and Horatio appeared holding hands.  Ophelia had a very unmaidenly blush which seemed to go to the depth of her cleavage (not that Hamlet was looking, of course).  Both she and Horatio had hair which looked like they had been pulled through a hedge backwards.  And Horatio’s buttons had clearly been done up in a hurry.

 “Lord Hamlet,” Ophelia said brightly, “how lovely to see you.  I understand you had something you wished to ask.”

“Yes, ah, umm, …”  Hamlet found himself lost for words.  At that moment he hated everybody: Laertes, who he could sense was smirking at him; Gertrude, who he realised had transferred her attention from him to Polonius who had recently come in; and Horatio, who had stolen his girlfriend when he had been occupied elsewhere.  “I’m returning to Wittenberg and don’t know when I’ll be back.”

With that he turned and stormed out of the castle.

***

He had no particular wish to study any more, but that had been the first thing which came into his head.

He pulled his cloak around him and set off down the road. Maybe he could find Rosencrantz.