Numb: The Postscript

II. Plunder

When the seas were serene and the winds sang nonchalantly, I laid snug in between the crates with my cloak that kept me protected from the early chills of autumn. I looked at the damp ceiling, in deep thought, trying to come up with a plan... Just something. A thought continued to consume my mind— Why Arendelle of all places?

Redemption was one of my considerations, but it seemed to be futile at first. Until I realized that its execution determined whether it would be successful or not. I had some kale in my hands that I found from a neighboring crate, and I began to fiddle with as I was planning. That didn't last long however; the slow rocking of the ship caused me to drift off into sleep.

I was half-awake when I was disturbed by a conversation of loud whispering.

"I say we throw 'im out."

"B-but we're arriving in Arendelle in less than half an hour, sir."

"Yes, but thieves like this on' need to be punished. His plunderin' ended his free trip for sure. Y'see, me self-"

I fell back to sleep. I felt as if I were flying in my dreams. But then suddenly I was falling. Startled, I opened my eyes the moment I hit the unexpected, hard surface of the water. I was dragged down several feet from air.

Struggling.

Fighting.

I got rid of my cloak since it took me down further.

Kicking.

Gasping.

I saw the ship sailing and arriving at the ports.

So close. I was kicking faster. The distance elongated more and more as I was more worn with fatigue. I seemed farther away from the ports but still close to the ends of Arendelle. My eyes closed. I felt my mouth fill with water as I choked on it.

Black.

Sounds.

"Young man!"

I felt my body slam on wood. I was on top of a deck for sure.

"Euughh..." I made incomprehensible groans.

"Alive! Alive, he is!" I opened my eyes to see a middle-aged gentlemen with such joy on his face. "Good! You need some rest, sir. I'll have you some shelter."

Back to black, I went.

I woke up to feeling warm hay on my backside. I was in the back of an old wooden wagon and I thought that I was traveling in the mountainside of Arendelle, judging by all the trees and elevation. I closed my eyes again but didn't sleep. I just listened to the wheels hitting the rustling leaves and the jagged rock. Then it all stopped. Silence.

"'Ere we go," the man said as he descended from the wagon, "Awake?"

I coughed, "Yes, thank you, uh-"

"Étienne, humble merchant of Arendelle."

"Étienne." He must be of French descent.

"I was picking up my shipment of kale from the Southern Isles, and then, I saw something floating in the fjord beside me. 'Twas you, young man! I was for sure that you were dead! Yet, I still had my doubt," he raised up his cane, "You see? If I didn't have this, I would still be trying to pull you out. Heh. Can you stand? I would help you but I don't have much in me right now." I nodded and gave him a grin. I was grateful, but didn't really know how to express it. I slid down to my feet and dusted my back off.

I heard a breathy, sweet voice call out, "Papa! I'll help with the kale!"

I turned to see soft, charcoal grey eyes that studied me. She had full rosy lips and dusky hair of ebony. I wanted to leave her a pleasant impression, and so I half-smiled. She moved the sides of her lips up a little bit.

"Uh, Papa..." she looked at Étienne with slight confusion.

He replied, "I saved this man's life not too long ago. Heh... He was unconscious! He needs to rest!" He turned to me, with a big smile, and then a look of realization came about, "Oh, sir! My daughter, Noèle, must be pleased to meet you." Étienne beckoned for Noèle to come nearer to the both of us, and so she did. She curtsied timidly with a shy grin. And I responded with a small bow. Our attention was directed towards each other. Étienne began to speak again, but to Noèle, "Noèle, please set up a bed in our storage room for this man," he turned to me, "We'll talk of your origins in a latter time, shall we? Just have some rest, and I'll bring you some clothes so that you can get out of those dirty, damp ones." Étienne looked at Noèle and gave her allowance.

"Please follow me," she said softly. I trod after her, exhaustedly. She opened a door to a quaint room. It was slightly dusty, but that was easily tolerated. She took out comforters, a quilt, and a couple of pillows. Then, she opened a big wardrobe to a mattress that stood up. Noèle attempted to carry it, but failed.

I offered my assistance, "Here." I eased my hands onto its sides.

"Please... Don't you worry..." Noèle was concerned. I let go and allowed her. She attempted once more, and she successfully carried the mattress to an old bed frame. She spread the sheets and placed the bedding. I watched her and observed. Quite the fair maiden. Her tenderness was simply refreshing, especially after everything.

Thereafter, she quickly exited the room. Ètienne entered shortly after, "Surprisingly, I actually found some of my son Jérémie's clothes from when he still lived here." He handed them to me carefully.

"Thank you, Étienne."

"You're very welcome. I hope this room is fine. It's not that clean; we haven't used it in a few years. Now it has some purpose."

"Yes, thank you again."

He nodded, "Well, I'll leave you be. Rest up. If you need anything, just walk over to our house from your right— Noèle and I will be there, dealing with the kale and whatnot." He left immediately.

I changed, and looked at myself in the window's reflection. Just as expected. Minor scratches above my brow and my cheekbones. I squinted to distort my reflection. I walked right outside and found Étienne and Noèle bringing the kale into their home.

"Étienne?"

He put a crate down, "What do you need?"

"A razor, if you have one."

"Of course, I do!" Étienne said as he stroked his beard. How would I possibly know he owned one? Anyway, he continued, "But of all things? Heh. I guess if that will clear your conscience. I'll be back."

He left, and I picked up the crate he put down. I caught up to Noèle. "I wanted to say thank you." I looked at her expecting a verbal reply. She looked up at me and grinned congenially.

"'Ere you go!" Étienne ran up and gave me the razor with some shaving cream as I traded the crate.

"Thank you, Étienne."

"Thank you."

I went back to the storage room and looked at myself in the window. I slathered the cream at only the sides of my face. I hesitated, but I brought the razor by my ears and began to cut. I cleaned off the cream on the razor with the outside washbasin. I splashed some water at the parts of my face my facial hair and sideburns used to be. I ran to the window from the outside. I no longer looked like the prince I once was and no longer am. I thought I was making a wrong decision, but I needed change. And I embraced it.

****

Oh, sa-NAP! Hans be changin'!

Hehe, anyway, I've been updating constantly, so I think I should update on a weekly basis. Sunday is good, right? I think so too. My future busy schedule will be happy with this.

Please expect updates to be on Sunday, but also prepare to not see them at times... I get REAL busy.

I'll keep typin'!

Thanks, baes! ^_~