"My belongings have already been loaded on the ship," Laertes turns to Ophelia, after he gives his room one last sweeping glance, to find any necessary belonging he may have missed, "And with that, I bid you farewell. As well, dear Ophelia, as the winds give benefit and ships sail, sleep not, but let me hear from you. Please write."
Smirking slightly, the rose-colored hedgehog shot back, "Do you doubt that I will?"
Laertes allowed himself a small smile at his sister's cheek, before setting his mouth into a firm line as he continued, "As for Hamlet and his advances with you," at this, Ophelia inwardly groaned, for they had encroached upon the subject she wanted to avoid discussing most, least of all with Laertes, "consider it playful flirting, a phase brought on by his tempered youth. Something like that cannot last. It is sweet, but it will fade in a minute. Not a second more."
"No more than that?" the maiden asked, half-genuinely. Even though some part of her knew that Laertes' words were only spoken out of feelings of protectiveness and a belief that very few men were worthy enough to court her-funny he should think that even a prince wouldn't be worthy of me; dear brother you flatter me too greatly, she thought-Ophelia felt a twinge of doubt at her supposed lover's musings and affectionate gestures, now that her brother brought the subject forward.
"Try and think of it like so," he stated bluntly, "When boys grow, they grow not just in size and bulk, but their responsibilities grow wide withal," Ophelia considers this, unsure of where he was going and slightly embarassed at his blunt and rather sexually-undertoned analogy, "Perhaps he loves you now, and bears no ill-intent," the teal hedgehog continued, unaware of his sister's mounting discomfort, "but you must stand vigilant. Always remember that, because he belongs to the royal family, his intentions, however good, are meaningless. His will isn't his own, for he is bound to his obligations as heir apparent to the state. He cannot, as common people can, carve for himself and indulge in his own desires, for on his choices depend the health and safety of our nation. Therefore, his choices must be circumscribed around the needs and wants of the country he will eventually lead."
Ophelia's heart sank further as she came to the realization that, no matter how much she disliked it, her brother was right, but still, the teal hedgehog pressed on, "So, if he says he 'loves you,' it would be wise to perceive his words as meaning only as much as the state of Denmark would allow them to mean.
"Moreover, think of what would happen if you caved in to his words and his advances," Ophelia's muzzle grew a blush in the same shade as her fur, not wanting to believe that Laertes would even speak of such a subject, but she still said nothing, allowing her brother to ramble on, "think of the loss your honor would sustain, think of the inevitable loss of your heart, and the mangled state your chaste treasure chest would be in, should you succumb to his 'loving,' greedy fingers," even with her head turned to the side, Laertes could not help but notice the deep shade of crimson his sister's muzzle had adopted, and struggled to reel himself back to the boundaries of appropriate speech and innuendos.
"Fear it, Ophelia," he began again softly after a brief pause, which made Ophelia snap her focus back to her brother, "Please, I beseech you, to keep your love under control, and avoid becoming a target of his lust and desire," Ophelia averts her gaze once more, though Laertes fails to notice and continues, "A maid unmasking her beauty to the moon is risk enough-exposing yourself to him should be out of the question. Virtue cannot outweigh calumny, and even the most virtuous of souls fall prey to vicious slander. Worms scurry around gardens, ruining and killing the infant rose blooms of spring, before they even have a hope of blossoming into the beauty we all know they can achieve. These buds, ripe in the dew of youth, are most susceptible to disease and death.
"Be wary then," the teal hedgehog remarks, grabbing the pink hedgehog's hands with his own, "The greatest safety lies in your fear. Youth will rebel against itself, stripping off self-control though no one else be near to tell them to. Remember this, dear Rose Bud."
Ophelia smirks slightly at her old nickname, given to her due to her apparent resemblance to a pink rose. Her smirk then becomes a small smile, as she contemplates how over-protective Laertes can be.
"I shall keep this good lesson close to my heart, as a watchman for my safety," she retorted, now scowling slightly, "But, dear brother, be not like a blasphemous, ungracious hypocrite of a pastor, who shows me the steep and thorny way to the heavens, and shoves me forward while he frolics like a pompous, uncaring libertine on the primrose path of dalliance and sin."
Laertes could not help but chuckle at his sister's boldness, rebutting his advice with her own.
"Fear me not," he assured her, pulling her into an embrace, as their father comes into the room.
"I have stayed here too long, for here father comes," Laertes notices the affectionate smile that the cobalt blue hedgehog wears, witnessing his children's embrace, "What luck! A double blessing is a double grace."
"Still here, Laertes?" the blue hedgehog asked in a stern voice, though his lips were starting to twist into a smile, "Aboard, aboard, for shame! The winds sit within the sail, awaiting on you to embark and to give them the word to move forward," Laertes shared a light chuckle with his father as he releases Ophelia and they embrace, "There again, my blessing now doubled, and, with what I am about to advise you with, your wisdom hopefully widened.
"Give your thoughts no tongue to speak aloud with, nor any ill thoughts be given hands to carry out their ill intent," Polonius began, brushing his brown fringe back, "Be amiable, but by no means vulgarly affectionate. Test the friends that you have to find out who will never cease to be trustworthy and hold onto them."
Polonius and Ophelia began to escort Laertes outside at this point, as his father rambled on, "But, do not dull your palms shaking hands with every unfledged comrade you meet," the cobalt hedgehog then turned to his son, placing both hands on the younger hedgehog's shoulder, and suddenly hardening his face, "Beware, do not pick any fights, but should you find yourself in a quarrel, be sure to hold your own."
The elder hedgehog's face then softens, as he continues, "Lend to all your ears and take their opinion, but give few your voice and even less your own judgement," Polonius pauses as he smooths out a wrinkle in Laertes' shirt, "Afford yourself some expensive clothing, though none so fancy as to be garish; something rich but not gaudy. The clothes do make a man, especially in France.
"Neither a borrower nor a lender be," Laertes was now fastening his coat, smiling at the old man's insistence on reinstating his advice again, "Loans often lose both itself and comrade, and borrowing all but neuters husbandry.
"Finally," Polonius paused, making sure Laertes was listening and not fumbling with his coat distractedly, "this above all: to your own self, be true, and follow it through, like the day does night. You cannot then be false to any other man.
"Farewell, my son," the two men embraced again, "My blessing shall hopefully let all this be absorbed into you."
"I humbly take my leave," Laertes remarks, respectfully bowing his head slightly, "Farewell, father."
"Go now, for the time is right!" the cobalt hedgehog urged, "Your servants and the wind await you."
"Farewell, Ophelia," he waved back at the rose hedgehog, "Remember well what I have said to you, dear Rose Bud!"
"It is locked in my memory," she called back, "and it is you yourself who is the keeper of the key."
"Farewell."
And with that, Laertes began his journey to France.
A/N: I guess I should put a disclaimer here so I don't get shot at or kidnapped by The Copyright SWAT team or something. I own not a single cell of any of the Sonic characters used in this story, SEGA and/or Archie Comics do. Also, the story of Hamlet is not owned by me either, although no one really knows who owns it and therefore can take credit for being the original author because Shakespeare's scripts of it are but his own stage adaptation of an ancient story/stories whose origins and credibility are still being debated today.
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