LAERTES & OPHELIA | starter for @dryadborn
Laertes’ eyes were shadowed by dark bags that seemed now to be permanently etched into his skin. He could hear the footsteps drawing closer to where he and Ophelia had made their shelter; in the back of his consciousness he made sure what used to be his sister was still sleeping. Her breathing was even, and so Laertes reached for the sword that, now, never left his side. Whoever hoped to take them by surprise would not.
As he crouched, wrapped in a thick cloak he’d stolen from the gravediggers, the stranger came into view. It was not a man, as he expected, but merely a girl. She couldn’t have been much older than Ophelia -- a thought that Laertes flinched away from. Still, they couldn’t afford her spreading news of the two of them. “Turn around, and make thyself forget the sight of us,” he said, his voice flat, quiet, but full of warning.