After stowing their bags in the small room, which they would come to discover was the height of privilege to even get, the tour was continued and the boys were shown where they would be expected to spend most of their time.
They were taken down below, where the coal was shoveled into the ship’s hungry red-hot guts. Soon to be with Elwin's assistance. It did look like a hot and miserable job, but at least nothing that demanded any special expertise. Which was good since he had none.
Then the captain took them to the ship's galley. By this point Prin was already looking pale and fatigued, if not positively green around the gills. But if he was seasick he was trying hard not to react to it.
There was a figure bent over a huge bin of potatoes. His brown hair was down over his eyes and his nervous hands more fidgeted with the potato he was holding, then actually peeled it. Elwin immediately recognized this as Squeaks.
“I hope ya like potatoes.” The captain smacked Prin in the shoulder and laughed.
The prince managed only a queasy little smile, neither confirming nor denying his fondness for tubers.
“I wasted enough time with you lot.” Captain Beams said. “You.” he pointed at Elwin. “Head back to your station, there's coal to shovel.”
“I don't-- we shouldn't be split up.” Elwin said.
The captain gave him a hard stare. “You'll be split up plenty fast when I throw one of yous into the ocean.”
“Fair enough.” Prin waved Elwin away. “It's fine.” He sat down on one of the bolted down wooden benches, propping up his stick against the table.
“I'll check on you later.” Elwin said softly. Every ounce of his better judgement screamed that this was a bad idea, but what choice did he have?
*
The prince trusted that whatever came up, Elwin could handle it. He knew this feeling wasn't mutual, but ah well, El would just have to live with the worry for the next few days. Or however long this ship journey would take. Wait, how long was this boat ride supposed to be?
Prin watched Squeaks peel potatoes, though it looked like it was harder for him then it should be, the prince knew there was no way he could do it better. He was definitely being stared at, through mousey strands of hair.
“So,” Prin asked tentatively. “How long does it take to reach the first port?”
Squeaks looked around, head going exaggeratedly side to side, as though confirming that they were indeed alone was of the utmost importance. “'bout a week, sometimes ten days.” his words were halting and his accent a bit hard to decipher, or rather, you had to really concentrate.
“Ah, that long then? But I guess it could be worse.” the prince said.
“Thars plenny long enough for things to get bad.” Squeaks assured him. “One time we got in the middle of this big storm, right as we were pulling out of port . . .” He continued staring at Prin, no doubt taking in the paleness of his face and not knowing how much of it could be attributed to fear and how much sea sickness. Prin didn't even know, himself. “Never mind.” Squeaks said. “What's your name?”
“Well . . . they call me Prin, which isn't really my name but, what's the difference anyway?” The prince said. “I'm sure Squeaks isn't really your name either.”
“Nah, but it's okay. I got used to it.” Squeaks said, looking shyly back down at his potatoes.
“How long have you worked on this ship?” the prince asked.
“Th-this one? Two years. I think.” Squeaks said. “But I'll never be leaving. Even my ghost will haunt this place.”
Prin struggled for a long moment to come up with a response to that. Nothing was appropriate. “Would you like some help with those?” He shifted uncomfortably on the hard bench, his stomach lurching and rolling with every capricious dip in the ocean.
Squeaks nodded his head. He got up and pulled a second small knife from a latched cabinet. “You're not gonna bleed on the taters are ya?” He asked, preparing to hand over the knife but withholding it for a moment dependent on Prin's answer.
“Well, not if you show me how to do it right so I don't hurt myself.” the prince smiled wide through his queasiness. He needed all the friends he could get right now, and it definitely seemed like this boy did too. “I'll be depending on you!”
Squeaks' face turned red, what of it you could see through the hair anyway. “No 'count depending on me for nothing. I guess I could show you how to peel taters though.” He handed over the extra knife and put his hand on Prin's, positioning his fingers correctly around the hilt. “Hold it like this, and the tater like this. See? Wait, you aint gonna throw up on them are you?”
“I'll try my damnedest not to.” Prin said, not making any promises.
The morning passed with more awkward silence then not. The prince concentrated hard on the task at hand, only managing to cut himself just a little and missing the potatoes handily with any blood droplets (thank you very much). Every time he looked up Squeaks was staring at him. Like maybe he wanted to say something. Or maybe not.
His hands got very cold and cramped. And, although wrapped in strips of rags, his small cuts were beginning to sting as though salt were getting in them.
“Squeaks.” Prin said.
“Yes?” Squeaks asked timidly. Prin did not have to look up to see if he was looking at him, since he never had stopped.
“What are you staring at?” the prince felt like shouting it from the top of the ship's mast but managed to somehow hold his volume down so as not to sound like a crazy person.
“You.” Squeaks said.
Prin sighed. At least he wasn't trying to hide it. He put the potato and knife down and massaged his hands. “I'm sorry.”
“No need ter be sorry.” Squeaks said. “It's just . . . the cap'n told us you lot was some kind of important people and we should all play nice wiff you.”
“He did?” the prince wondered what Dolce had told the captain, or if he had somehow figured out exactly who they were. He seemed like an astute old man. Still, so was Dolce, and Prin chose to imagine that she had come up with a reasonable lie that would improve their odds on the ship without giving everything away. After all, what merchant ship would take off with a prince? If you knew what you were doing you could get into a lot of trouble. He imagined.
“And I was kinda wondering what kind of important person you was. But I didn't like to say it.” Squeaks said. “Actually that aint even haff of it. The real story is, I just thought you was the most loveliest person I ever seen in my life.”
Prin could feel him look away finally, and sure enough when he raised his head from staring down at his poor hands, Squeaks was looking away into the corner of the room, his face bright red once again.
Prin could feel his own face heat up. “Well . . . what do looks mean anyway? It's an accident of birth and doesn't tell much about the person.” He had trouble believing this was even true, although the kid had said it with sincerity. Prin had always just assumed that he was ugly, but maybe that's because he had felt so miserable most of the time he had assumed that he had looked like he felt. But he was starting to think that he had made a lot of assumptions about what things were facts in life that simply weren't true. That, and Squeaks had apparently not seen very many people in his life.
Prin popped another slice of raw potato into his mouth, it didn't have much of a taste but the crunch was nice, like eating an apple. And he supposed he had nervous hunger, though it had to be close to lunch time come to think of it.
“You think so?” Squeaks asked.
“I know it.” the prince said.
“You're a nice person too.” Squeaks said. “So, I fink maybe your looks does tell sumfing about you, but maybe it aint true every time.” He nodded. “Since you are nice, it don't seem right not telling you, you shouldn't be eating them raw taters.”
“Why not, am I going to get in trouble with the captain?” Prin wondered, it was the first time this had occurred to him. But he supposed the food may be tightly accounted for on a ship.
“Nar, it aint that. They're poison.” Squeaks said seriously. “You eat one too many of them, and you don't know which one it'll be, and boom, your guts fall right out your arse and you die. 'Course cooking them takes the poison out.”
Prin's mouth fell open and the partially chewed bite of potato fell right out and onto the floor with a plop. “Wh-why didn't you tell me earlier?” he gasped out. He felt cold all over. Was the poison working on him already? Was Squeaks just watching him all day to see when he would fall over and croak?
Squeaks doubled over in his chair and the loudest clear laughter, like it came from all around the room and not his little hunched over body, filled the air. “You should see the look on yer face!”
The prince stared agog for a long moment before he figured out he'd been had.
“How does it look now?” Prin asked, sticking his tongue out and wrinkling up his nose at the offending prankster.
This just produced further gales of laughter, and Squeaks looked like he might fall off the bench.
Just then the door swung open and one of the sailors came in and went to the counter, helping himself to a mug of hot soup that was simmering. Squeaks stopped laughing immediately and picked up a potato and got back to work.
Prin picked his potato up too and tried to look busy until the man left with his soup, in case he was someone in charge.
“We don't really have lunchtime, see? People just help theirself if they're hungry.” Squeaks said quietly, voice barely above a whisper.
Once the sailor had gone, the prince decided he might as well go back to stealing food if it wasn't going to kill him, he raised another bit of potato towards his mouth.
Squeaks put his hand on Prin's arm to stop him. “It really wheel give you stomach cramps, some people.” He informed. “Lemme get you some soup.”
*
Elwin was exhausted. He had no idea what time it was, it could have been two hours or twenty since he had started his labors. Being in the bowels of the ship, there was no daylight anyway, and certainly no pleasant view to look upon, such as the sky.
The other men seemed to be treating him alright, or if they weren't Elwin was too busy to notice.
He wanted to fall down and just stay on the floor, letting the other men walk around him in their heavy shoes. Or just walk on him. At this point, who really cared?
Elwin's hands were red and swollen but they didn't really hurt yet, just felt hot.
Finally, a man with long white hair in a ponytail, that seemed to belie his age, and a weather beaten canvas jacket, came over and took the shovel from Elwin. He laughed good naturedly as he did so.
“We were just waiting to see how long you would keep going.” The man said. “But you aint half bad kid, I didn’t think you were ever gonna quit.”
“I can keep going.” Elwin said. His voice, even to himself sounded dead and lifeless.
“Well it's shift change time.” The white haired man said. “And you must be hungry and tired. Even though you're young, no one expects you to have the energy of a god, okay?” He laughed again, like this was the most delicious joke. “Let's get some supper.” He suggested, ushering Elwin towards the stairs.
“I don't need to eat, I'm just tired.” Elwin said.
“Yes, yes you do.” the man insisted.
“Prin!” Elwin suddenly remembered, getting a renewed surge of energy. He had left Prin to his own devices all day long, which hadn't been his original intentions at all. He had planned to sneak back to the galley as soon as he was able to check up on him.
“Hmm?” the white haired man asked.
“My friend is in the kitchen.” Elwin said.
“Good thing that's where we're headed,” The man said. “I'm Mac by the way.”
“El, Elwin.” Elwin said. He hoped Prin was alright. Would he still be in the kitchen after all this time? Walking around on the deck, it was almost completely dark, and it had been just after dawn when they had boarded the ship. His hands hurt.
Unlike this morning, the ship's galley was bustling with people. Elwin wasn't sure how many men worked on this boat, but it was clear that they all couldn't eat at one time. Though not for lack of trying. He muscled his way through the stinking men (he surely didn't smell like a peach himself after the day he had), to the far side of the room where Squeaks and a man in a chef's hat were dolling out food. Suddenly he got a bad feeling and his head darted side to side frantically looking for Prin.
“He done really good today.” Squeaks said. “But affer a while he had enough fun and had to go lay down.” He grabbed a plate and plopped some food down for Elwin. “He were a bit worried about you but too tired to go a lookin.”
Elwin winced. “I lost track of time.”
Squeaks nodded sagely. “It don't have much meaning when yer on a ship. And then you die.”
“Shut up you!” The chef elbowed him in the ribs. “This little rat's always saying things that put people off their feed, never mind him.” He told Elwin.
Elwin took a couple bites quickly and a swig of the drink he was offered. He almost spit it out when it turned out to be beer, but after the surprise wore off . . . When in Rome. He wanted to make his way back to the prince at top speeds but he was also aware he had to try and keep his strength up. If both of them pooped out and went to bed mid shift, they may truly be tossed overboard by the captain. Or at least yelled at. Hopefully yelled at.
Elwin scarfed his food and drink down quickly and headed with difficulty back out the door, using any skills he possessed to rebuff attempts at conversation as well as move people physically aside without starting a fight.
He made his way back to the little room and opened the door, which was unlocked. Damnit, hadn't the captain warned of keeping the door locked? He would have to scold Prin about it, it was too important.
Those thoughts flew out the window when he saw the prince curled up on the little bed, more of a cot really, but attached to the wall. He was still fully dressed including the boots and his face was scrunched up with discomfort or bad dreams. His poor hands were dressed with bandages made of old rags. He had clearly over done it. Of course, Elwin was guilty of that one himself.
He lit the little oil lamp, with light from the hall, before closing and bolting the door behind him.
Prin awoke with the shutting of the door. He squinted up at Elwin, a relieved smile gracing his face. He propped his head up on his hand.
“Oh, Elwin, how did it go?” His voice slurred with exhaustion, and Elwin knew he was no better off himself so he preferred to avoid much conversation.
“It went okay.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off with difficulty, “Are you alright?”
“I dunno.” The prince said, but he was still smiling up at Elwin, glad to see him.
“Then we are about in the same boat.” Elwin laughed weakly at his unintended pun, and the prince joined him.
Soon they were both doubled up in painful delirious laughter that took a while to subside.
“Can I take these off for you?” Elwin pulled the tall boots off of Prin without waiting for an answer.
“Does that mean I have to put them back on in the morning?” Prin asked, making a face.
“Well, you could always peel potatoes bare footed.” Elwin teased.
The prince, too tired to laugh any more, pulled Elwin down beside him. And there they slept, curled up in a space more suited for one person, still dressed in their sweaty clothes, lulled to sleep almost instantly by the rock a bye swaying of the sea.
After stowing their bags in the small room, which they would come to discover was the height of privilege to even get, the tour was continued and the boys were shown where they would be expected to spend most of their time.
They were taken down below, where the coal was shoveled into the ship’s hungry red-hot guts. Soon to be with Elwin's assistance. It did look like a hot and miserable job, but at least nothing that demanded any special expertise. Which was good since he had none.
Then the captain took them to the ship's galley. By this point Prin was already looking pale and fatigued, if not positively green around the gills. But if he was seasick he was trying hard not to react to it.
There was a figure bent over a huge bin of potatoes. His brown hair was down over his eyes and his nervous hands more fidgeted with the potato he was holding, then actually peeled it. Elwin immediately recognized this as Squeaks.
“I hope ya like potatoes.” The captain smacked Prin in the shoulder and laughed.
The prince managed only a queasy little smile, neither confirming nor denying his fondness for tubers.
“I wasted enough time with you lot.” Captain Beams said. “You.” he pointed at Elwin. “Head back to your station, there's coal to shovel.”
“I don't-- we shouldn't be split up.” Elwin said.
The captain gave him a hard stare. “You'll be split up plenty fast when I throw one of yous into the ocean.”
“Fair enough.” Prin waved Elwin away. “It's fine.” He sat down on one of the bolted down wooden benches, propping up his stick against the table.
“I'll check on you later.” Elwin said softly. Every ounce of his better judgement screamed that this was a bad idea, but what choice did he have?
*
The prince trusted that whatever came up, Elwin could handle it. He knew this feeling wasn't mutual, but ah well, El would just have to live with the worry for the next few days. Or however long this ship journey would take. Wait, how long was this boat ride supposed to be?
Prin watched Squeaks peel potatoes, though it looked like it was harder for him then it should be, the prince knew there was no way he could do it better. He was definitely being stared at, through mousey strands of hair.
“So,” Prin asked tentatively. “How long does it take to reach the first port?”
Squeaks looked around, head going exaggeratedly side to side, as though confirming that they were indeed alone was of the utmost importance. “'bout a week, sometimes ten days.” his words were halting and his accent a bit hard to decipher, or rather, you had to really concentrate.
“Ah, that long then? But I guess it could be worse.” the prince said.
“Thars plenny long enough for things to get bad.” Squeaks assured him. “One time we got in the middle of this big storm, right as we were pulling out of port . . .” He continued staring at Prin, no doubt taking in the paleness of his face and not knowing how much of it could be attributed to fear and how much sea sickness. Prin didn't even know, himself. “Never mind.” Squeaks said. “What's your name?”
“Well . . . they call me Prin, which isn't really my name but, what's the difference anyway?” The prince said. “I'm sure Squeaks isn't really your name either.”
“Nah, but it's okay. I got used to it.” Squeaks said, looking shyly back down at his potatoes.
“How long have you worked on this ship?” the prince asked.
“Th-this one? Two years. I think.” Squeaks said. “But I'll never be leaving. Even my ghost will haunt this place.”
Prin struggled for a long moment to come up with a response to that. Nothing was appropriate. “Would you like some help with those?” He shifted uncomfortably on the hard bench, his stomach lurching and rolling with every capricious dip in the ocean.
Squeaks nodded his head. He got up and pulled a second small knife from a latched cabinet. “You're not gonna bleed on the taters are ya?” He asked, preparing to hand over the knife but withholding it for a moment dependent on Prin's answer.
“Well, not if you show me how to do it right so I don't hurt myself.” the prince smiled wide through his queasiness. He needed all the friends he could get right now, and it definitely seemed like this boy did too. “I'll be depending on you!”
Squeaks' face turned red, what of it you could see through the hair anyway. “No 'count depending on me for nothing. I guess I could show you how to peel taters though.” He handed over the extra knife and put his hand on Prin's, positioning his fingers correctly around the hilt. “Hold it like this, and the tater like this. See? Wait, you aint gonna throw up on them are you?”
“I'll try my damnedest not to.” Prin said, not making any promises.
The morning passed with more awkward silence then not. The prince concentrated hard on the task at hand, only managing to cut himself just a little and missing the potatoes handily with any blood droplets (thank you very much). Every time he looked up Squeaks was staring at him. Like maybe he wanted to say something. Or maybe not.
His hands got very cold and cramped. And, although wrapped in strips of rags, his small cuts were beginning to sting as though salt were getting in them.
“Squeaks.” Prin said.
“Yes?” Squeaks asked timidly. Prin did not have to look up to see if he was looking at him, since he never had stopped.
“What are you staring at?” the prince felt like shouting it from the top of the ship's mast but managed to somehow hold his volume down so as not to sound like a crazy person.
“You.” Squeaks said.
Prin sighed. At least he wasn't trying to hide it. He put the potato and knife down and massaged his hands. “I'm sorry.”
“No need ter be sorry.” Squeaks said. “It's just . . . the cap'n told us you lot was some kind of important people and we should all play nice wiff you.”
“He did?” the prince wondered what Dolce had told the captain, or if he had somehow figured out exactly who they were. He seemed like an astute old man. Still, so was Dolce, and Prin chose to imagine that she had come up with a reasonable lie that would improve their odds on the ship without giving everything away. After all, what merchant ship would take off with a prince? If you knew what you were doing you could get into a lot of trouble. He imagined.
“And I was kinda wondering what kind of important person you was. But I didn't like to say it.” Squeaks said. “Actually that aint even haff of it. The real story is, I just thought you was the most loveliest person I ever seen in my life.”
Prin could feel him look away finally, and sure enough when he raised his head from staring down at his poor hands, Squeaks was looking away into the corner of the room, his face bright red once again.
Prin could feel his own face heat up. “Well . . . what do looks mean anyway? It's an accident of birth and doesn't tell much about the person.” He had trouble believing this was even true, although the kid had said it with sincerity. Prin had always just assumed that he was ugly, but maybe that's because he had felt so miserable most of the time he had assumed that he had looked like he felt. But he was starting to think that he had made a lot of assumptions about what things were facts in life that simply weren't true. That, and Squeaks had apparently not seen very many people in his life.
Prin popped another slice of raw potato into his mouth, it didn't have much of a taste but the crunch was nice, like eating an apple. And he supposed he had nervous hunger, though it had to be close to lunch time come to think of it.
“You think so?” Squeaks asked.
“I know it.” the prince said.
“You're a nice person too.” Squeaks said. “So, I fink maybe your looks does tell sumfing about you, but maybe it aint true every time.” He nodded. “Since you are nice, it don't seem right not telling you, you shouldn't be eating them raw taters.”
“Why not, am I going to get in trouble with the captain?” Prin wondered, it was the first time this had occurred to him. But he supposed the food may be tightly accounted for on a ship.
“Nar, it aint that. They're poison.” Squeaks said seriously. “You eat one too many of them, and you don't know which one it'll be, and boom, your guts fall right out your arse and you die. 'Course cooking them takes the poison out.”
Prin's mouth fell open and the partially chewed bite of potato fell right out and onto the floor with a plop. “Wh-why didn't you tell me earlier?” he gasped out. He felt cold all over. Was the poison working on him already? Was Squeaks just watching him all day to see when he would fall over and croak?
Squeaks doubled over in his chair and the loudest clear laughter, like it came from all around the room and not his little hunched over body, filled the air. “You should see the look on yer face!”
The prince stared agog for a long moment before he figured out he'd been had.
“How does it look now?” Prin asked, sticking his tongue out and wrinkling up his nose at the offending prankster.
This just produced further gales of laughter, and Squeaks looked like he might fall off the bench.
Just then the door swung open and one of the sailors came in and went to the counter, helping himself to a mug of hot soup that was simmering. Squeaks stopped laughing immediately and picked up a potato and got back to work.
Prin picked his potato up too and tried to look busy until the man left with his soup, in case he was someone in charge.
“We don't really have lunchtime, see? People just help theirself if they're hungry.” Squeaks said quietly, voice barely above a whisper.
Once the sailor had gone, the prince decided he might as well go back to stealing food if it wasn't going to kill him, he raised another bit of potato towards his mouth.
Squeaks put his hand on Prin's arm to stop him. “It really wheel give you stomach cramps, some people.” He informed. “Lemme get you some soup.”
*
Elwin was exhausted. He had no idea what time it was, it could have been two hours or twenty since he had started his labors. Being in the bowels of the ship, there was no daylight anyway, and certainly no pleasant view to look upon, such as the sky.
The other men seemed to be treating him alright, or if they weren't Elwin was too busy to notice.
He wanted to fall down and just stay on the floor, letting the other men walk around him in their heavy shoes. Or just walk on him. At this point, who really cared?
Elwin's hands were red and swollen but they didn't really hurt yet, just felt hot.
Finally, a man with long white hair in a ponytail, that seemed to belie his age, and a weather beaten canvas jacket, came over and took the shovel from Elwin. He laughed good naturedly as he did so.
“We were just waiting to see how long you would keep going.” The man said. “But you aint half bad kid, I didn’t think you were ever gonna quit.”
“I can keep going.” Elwin said. His voice, even to himself sounded dead and lifeless.
“Well it's shift change time.” The white haired man said. “And you must be hungry and tired. Even though you're young, no one expects you to have the energy of a god, okay?” He laughed again, like this was the most delicious joke. “Let's get some supper.” He suggested, ushering Elwin towards the stairs.
“I don't need to eat, I'm just tired.” Elwin said.
“Yes, yes you do.” the man insisted.
“Prin!” Elwin suddenly remembered, getting a renewed surge of energy. He had left Prin to his own devices all day long, which hadn't been his original intentions at all. He had planned to sneak back to the galley as soon as he was able to check up on him.
“Hmm?” the white haired man asked.
“My friend is in the kitchen.” Elwin said.
“Good thing that's where we're headed,” The man said. “I'm Mac by the way.”
“El, Elwin.” Elwin said. He hoped Prin was alright. Would he still be in the kitchen after all this time? Walking around on the deck, it was almost completely dark, and it had been just after dawn when they had boarded the ship. His hands hurt.
Unlike this morning, the ship's galley was bustling with people. Elwin wasn't sure how many men worked on this boat, but it was clear that they all couldn't eat at one time. Though not for lack of trying. He muscled his way through the stinking men (he surely didn't smell like a peach himself after the day he had), to the far side of the room where Squeaks and a man in a chef's hat were dolling out food. Suddenly he got a bad feeling and his head darted side to side frantically looking for Prin.
“He done really good today.” Squeaks said. “But affer a while he had enough fun and had to go lay down.” He grabbed a plate and plopped some food down for Elwin. “He were a bit worried about you but too tired to go a lookin.”
Elwin winced. “I lost track of time.”
Squeaks nodded sagely. “It don't have much meaning when yer on a ship. And then you die.”
“Shut up you!” The chef elbowed him in the ribs. “This little rat's always saying things that put people off their feed, never mind him.” He told Elwin.
Elwin took a couple bites quickly and a swig of the drink he was offered. He almost spit it out when it turned out to be beer, but after the surprise wore off . . . When in Rome. He wanted to make his way back to the prince at top speeds but he was also aware he had to try and keep his strength up. If both of them pooped out and went to bed mid shift, they may truly be tossed overboard by the captain. Or at least yelled at. Hopefully yelled at.
Elwin scarfed his food and drink down quickly and headed with difficulty back out the door, using any skills he possessed to rebuff attempts at conversation as well as move people physically aside without starting a fight.
He made his way back to the little room and opened the door, which was unlocked. Damnit, hadn't the captain warned of keeping the door locked? He would have to scold Prin about it, it was too important.
Those thoughts flew out the window when he saw the prince curled up on the little bed, more of a cot really, but attached to the wall. He was still fully dressed including the boots and his face was scrunched up with discomfort or bad dreams. His poor hands were dressed with bandages made of old rags. He had clearly over done it. Of course, Elwin was guilty of that one himself.
He lit the little oil lamp, with light from the hall, before closing and bolting the door behind him.
Prin awoke with the shutting of the door. He squinted up at Elwin, a relieved smile gracing his face. He propped his head up on his hand.
“Oh, Elwin, how did it go?” His voice slurred with exhaustion, and Elwin knew he was no better off himself so he preferred to avoid much conversation.
“It went okay.” He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots off with difficulty, “Are you alright?”
“I dunno.” The prince said, but he was still smiling up at Elwin, glad to see him.
“Then we are about in the same boat.” Elwin laughed weakly at his unintended pun, and the prince joined him.
Soon they were both doubled up in painful delirious laughter that took a while to subside.
“Can I take these off for you?” Elwin pulled the tall boots off of Prin without waiting for an answer.
“Does that mean I have to put them back on in the morning?” Prin asked, making a face.
“Well, you could always peel potatoes bare footed.” Elwin teased.
The prince, too tired to laugh any more, pulled Elwin down beside him. And there they slept, curled up in a space more suited for one person, still dressed in their sweaty clothes, lulled to sleep almost instantly by the rock a bye swaying of the sea.
