Elwin relayed the message, sugar coating it as best he could into more of a you mustn’t disturb him or wake him up kind of thing. He wasn’t entirely sure that Squeaks was convinced, but he had given it his best try anyway. What more could he do?

The day felt bad, and he hoped they could get off this boat soon. Prin being sick on the boat seemed worse than Prin being sick on dry land.

Elwin went quickly to his usual station and started to work, as though he thought if he somehow shoveled the coal faster he could get done faster, even though he knew it didn’t work that way.

The other men seemed ill at ease when he came in, stopping their conversation and turning to look at him when he entered the room.

Elwin shrugged it off, not having the energy or inclination to worry about what they thought of him.

After the first few hours, Elwin, sinking into the mind numbing, almost worry reducing hard physical labor of the job, Mac was at his side suddenly.

“Hey, put the shovel down and relax a minute.” Mac said. “Work isn’t all we do around here.” He laughed, and a couple of the other men laughed in return, knowingly.

“Really? Could’ve fooled me.” Elwin laughed too, although he wasn’t sure what they were laughing at.

“It’s the “day of rest”, which means we still have to work, you know, ships got to run and all. But we goof off a little.” One of the men said helpfully.

“In that case, can I take a break and leave for a little bit?” Elwin cocked his thumb toward the door. He would tell them why, if pressed, but he felt like it would lead to teasing from the men. Not that he was actually trying to hide the nature of his relationship with Prin, it just seemed like these were the type of men that would take any sign of vulnerability and beat you over the head with it if given half a chance. He had met this type before, worked with them for brief intervals bringing in harvests or assisting with castle repairs. Best not to give them anything to work with.

“Where are you going? To see your friend?” Mac wagged his eyebrows at the other men suggestively, and tossed his white ponytail behind him like an arrogant horse.

Well, there went that idea. “Actually, yes. He isn’t feeling well today, and I thought if I had the time I would check on him.” Elwin said, trying to keep his voice even, and not too eager.

“Aren’t you a bit overprotective?” Mac wondered. “If you hold on too tight,” He made a fist to demonstrate. “They squeeze right through your fingers.” He looked to the other men for agreement. A couple were still shoveling and a couple standing around taking a break. They smiled and nodded. “We’ve all been there, haven’t we boys?” Mac continued.

“He’s been sick a lot, all his life.” Elwin said. “It’s not just something small, like a cold or allergies.” Under other circumstances he would have been more defensive, even angry at these men, but he sensed that he needed to keep the situation calm, that something was off in their behavior that he couldn’t put his finger on. Perhaps just an excitement to mess with the new guy. And frankly he was none too eager to be the butt of their jokes.

However, they had always been nice to him up til now.

Mac nodded sagely. “That seems like a tough way to live, for you as well as him.”

“It wasn’t any trouble for ME.” Elwin protested. He thought of all the times he had taken care of the prince, going way back to their young childhood, and could honestly say he had never resented it or felt troubled to be doing it in any way. He had been glad to help. It didn’t hurt that Prin had such a kind and sweet, and clever personality, and Elwin had often thought that anyone would love him who had the opportunity to get to know him.

Mac went to a little knapsack in the corner and pulled out a couple of different flasks. “Have a drink with us first and then we’ll leave you alone.” He took a swig out of the larger flask and made a face. “Phew! Good moonshine.” He passed it to one of the other men, who took a big drink himself.

“That’ll put hair on your chest boy!” The other man said, looking at the flask approvingly.

The other men laughed, and Mac held the smaller flask out to Elwin.

“Hell, Stay and have one drink and then you can leave for the rest of the day for all I care.” Mac said. “If the Captain comes by we’ll cover for ya.” He smiled disarmingly.

Elwin reluctantly took the flask. He ran a dirty hand through his hair (that he was sure was barely any shade of blond any more after a few days on this dirty boat) and took a small sip from the flask. The taste made him screw up his face immediately and his tongue wanted to eject the vile liquid from his mouth. But it didn’t, and he forced himself to swallow it.

The other men laughed uproariously at this.

“Truly a babe in the woods!” Mac said, between gales of laughter. “You can take a better drink then that! It won’t hurt ya!” He guided the flask back to Elwin’s mouth, where Elwin took another small drink, trying to pretend it was a larger one.

Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

Mac saw through this and poured a drink into Elwin’s mouth. “There you go! That’s a real taste of it!”

Elwin spit some back out onto his shirt when Mac turned to look at the other men and laugh in their direction. But the damage was already done and he felt dizzy. He needed to sit down, before he would fall down.

Mac put his arm around his shoulders. “Easy there, kid.”

As Elwin felt the world around him shift, the men’s faces begin to blur and elongate into hideous caricatures. “What--?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of him.” Mac was saying, as the world went black.

*

The prince had wandered in the night. Half in dream and half not, leaning against the walls of the hallway for support. The fact that Elwin never stirred when he got out of bed and left closing the door behind him, nor even when he returned, made Prin think that perhaps he had dreamed the whole thing and never left the bed at all.

However, the huge tarp he had stolen and dragged dragged dragged, all the way back to the little cabin and stowed beneath the cot, had still been there in the morning when he went to check after Elwin left.

He didn’t have any specific plans for what he was doing with this thing, but when he saw it his eyes had sparked and he knew he had to have it. That it would come in handy.

Prin twisted the little gold ring on his pinky. What would Elwin think of him? If he knew the thoughts he was having, the lengths the pain like rats gnawing his insides was driving him to consider? After all, last time he had felt so much better after . . . No, to consciously finish that thought was out of the question. If he had a little sanity left, he would like to keep it that way.

The prince thought he should really want to throw himself off of the ship into the turbulent dark ocean, and let his parts be eaten up by the sharp-toothed creatures within.

But he didn’t. The prince actually had no desire to die. Less even than he used to when he had been a very sick, but harmless, human boy.

Now he wanted to live more then ever.

*

When the knock came at the cabin door, the prince was ready for it. He stepped into lucid dreaming, where he could not seem to wake up, but at the same time he could manipulate the things around him, and even reason things out to a limited degree.

Even a beast can reason.

When it comes to increasing its odds of a safe and satisfying meal.

And what are people, if not the most canny, the most wily of beasts.

Dream Prin could tell a hundred stories in his head in the space between knocks at the door.

“Be right there-e.” The prince called softly. “Don’t give up. Don’t go away.”

He unfolded the large tarp, and once spread out, it covered the bed, the floor, the entirety of the small cabin with room to spare. Yes, this would work out nicely.

He had already stripped down to his underlayer, leggings and night shirt. And at the last moment, he tossed them off too, tucking them underneath the tarp for safe keeping with his other things.

The prince would need his clothing later on, after it was finished, to cover the beast again. Camouflage. He giggled quietly. His stomach barely hurt any more. Already. Or rather, it did, but the feeling was pushed so far aside it was practically a distant memory. As though it were happening to someone else, in another room.

The knocking came again, softly. “I want to apologize for yesterday.” A smooth voice said. “You weren’t wrong to do what you did. I’m not angry. I heard you were sick and brought peace offerings.”

“Just a moment!” Prin called. He got the little knife they had carried along with their supplies, and sat it on the table near the door.

Everything had a strange quality. Sound, smell, even the air itself seemed full of visible swirling particles. Even though it was dark in there, with only one small candle lit on the farthest edge of the table, where hopefully it would be hard to knock over. Not that he needed the light. Just was none too partial to fire.

The prince wondered if other people could see it too.

He went to the door and slid back the bolt, opening it just a crack.

Mac was there, holding a box of colorful wrapped sweets. “May I come in?” He asked, ever so polite, ever so civilized.

His eyes, when Prin opened the door further, revealing his unclothed form, went from cold and calculating, to hot and mean in less then a blink.

The prince could see what he already knew, this man had his own overwhelming hungers. And that made him ever so vulnerable.

“Walk into my parlor?” Prin said, forgetting what else he may have planned to say, for things are like that in dreams, and it’s hard to grasp a solid thought and hold on to it. Slippery things. He smiled.

Mac laughed. He came into the room quickly and shut the door behind himself. “I didn’t expect you to be ready for me. This is nice for a change.”

Prin held the knife behind himself, unsheathed, and ready to find it’s new sheath much more grand. He sat down on the tarp covered bed and patted the seat beside him. “I hope you don’t mind I took my clothes off.”

“Why would I?” Mac sat down the candies and came over to the bed eagerly. “He-ey, you don’t seem all that sick? Did you play sick just to wait for me?” He laughed. “What a cute little thing you are.” He licked his lips like the wolf from a fairytale. “Let’s see if I can mess you up. You won’t want to take those clothes off again for a while.”

With those ominous words hanging in the air between them, he reached for the prince, who ducked neatly aside and out of his grasp.

“Why don’t you take your clothes off too?” Prin asked sweetly. There were so many layers covering the meat, that he thought this would be a good place to start.

Mac shrugged out of his jacket quickly, and when he went to take his shirt off over his head, the prince seized on the perfect opportunity.

He went for the soft belly first, carving out a wide and gutting smile, then the neck, through the shirt that was stretched up over the man’s head.

In retrospect this may have been a mistake, as Prin had underestimated the strength of someone who is at the beginning stage of bleeding out.

Mac roared and stood up, entrails falling out of him like wet birthday banners. He flailed around, unseeing, with his face covered and his arms held awkwardly above his head by the shirt he couldn’t escape from.

The prince caught an elbow, or maybe it was a knee, to the face and went down. But he was back up again quickly enough, dodging around the small room, keeping out of the way like a boxing match gone awry.

It took a forever long few moments for Mac to lose enough blood (and interior parts) to calm down. He began to fall, slipping on his own blood and slumped hard onto the bed. The sounds he made now had nothing of the lion in them.

Prin sat back down beside him, cutting the shirt which had bound him, away from his face and neck. Mac was grimacing still, but his eyes were rapidly dulling, half dead.

“I was going to say something like, this was for my friend.” The prince said. “But who am I kidding? This. Is. All. For. Me.” He grinned as he dug into his meal.