three stories

I

The audience is an interesting place to watch your own life from, and whether this was because Claudius wasn't fully present in his own life or because the core of his life was, when he really examined it, not himself, but him he wasn't sure. And though Claudius stood in the audience where no one cared to see him there was still the overwhelming sense that he was being watched, whether by Polonius who prided himself in only having one job- to keep Claudius's family in check, by every arras in the kingdom where anyone was keen to lurk and to hide and to listen or by God, who knew of the contents of Claudius's heart that he was most determined to keep under lock and key. Claudius had secrets, and it was those that he was most afraid of.

Today Gertrude wore her hair pinned at the back. This was not an unusual way for the Queen to wear it, and more likely than not the choice wasn't hers. At least, this was what she told Claudius. He wondered who it was that dictated this action. The King was not home. It was not him. Claudius liked her hair down, but he said nothing to her about it. Gertrude wasn't aware of her beauty and this was something Claudius noted long ago.

"How goes your day?" she asked in that tone, the regal one Claudius envied and couldn't mimic. He stretched a smile across his face which he knew could never be as gentle as his brother's.

"It goes well, dear Queen."

Gertrude nodded politely and made her pass. Claudius would see her later, he would see her at dusk.

A hasty marriage, Claudius thought, was Gertrude's to the King. She'd not been young at the time but Hamlet was older, nearly a decade older than she and Claudius. Hamlet had simply seen her- just a glance- and it was love.

Claudius forgave Gertrude for loving him- how couldn't he? He still loved Hamlet himself, and perhaps it was easy to love someone you never had to see. Truly, absence did such to one's heart. He cracked the knuckles of one hand and went to his room to get away from the walls listening to his thoughts.

'Glimmer' was the word for the ring on her left hand, the way it caught the light and sent it dancing against the walls of the room and sometimes, Claudius kissed it, an act Gertrude mistook for disrespect for the King but which Claudius knew was envy. The King had never been home enough to look at it longer than a moment. Claudius knew he hadn't kissed it more than once. A single child was all their marriage had, and in a kingdom no one married for love.

"Sleep well, my Queen," Claudius would say later, when the sky blackened and the crickets began their song for the night. He could not bring himself to stay any longer, wondering if perhaps on the battlefield Hamlet knew what Claudius did behind his back. Certainly, were Claudius king, he would know. He would understand his kingdom beyond the battlefield. He would honour the ones he belonged to in Denmark. Were Claudius king, he would honour his Queen, and no one would ever hate him the way he hated his brother.

II

Claudius was the first person Gertrude turned to after Hamlet died- she put her hands in his and he pulled her to him in an embrace. He shook his head once, twice, three times, and then his entire body was shaking and the Queen- no, she was no longer a queen- put her arms around his neck and wept.

Gertrude had been the first to pull back and the brother of her dead husband stood, every muscle of his face seeming too tired to hold itself together, and she said, "I understand." He shook his head again, and she kissed him.

"I understand."

He fell against her like a wave against the ocean, and Gertrude never stopped falling.

III

When Claudius was king, the walls, the arrases, Polonius and God watched Hamlet, and Hamlet watched Claudius, a man of murder, envy and lecher. Hamlet had his own secrets. He looked to Horatio for a glimmer of understanding, thought longingly of the father who he loved and didn't have, the one who had been ripped from him and returned to him in death to speak words of understanding and to tell him the truth of his hateful, jealous and unworthy uncle, the father he had to adore in secret or else betray his trust. In the privacy of his mind, behind Claudius's back, when Claudius was king, Hamlet hated Claudius more than Claudius ever hated his brother.

Part of him wondered, as the play he'd directed began, if Claudius would think of the audience as a strange place to watch his own life from.

A/N: I can honestly say that writing Shakespeare fanfiction is not something I ever saw myself doing, but here we are in 2015 and it's happened. I'm thoroughly enjoying reading Hamlet and I suppose this work is tribute to that. Right now we only just got to Act 4 so I'm not sure if anything is going to happen that'll throw this FF right out the headcanon window and into AU but we'll see how it goes. Anyway, thank you for reading. I know I've not uploaded anything in a while but I was really happy with how this one turned out so I decided to post it. I should mention that it's heavily influenced by "Headfirst Slide Into Cooperstown on a Bad Bet" by Fall Out Boy, which is a great song that I highly recommend. Reviews are always appreciated!