Prince Hans Westerguard of the Southern Isles bit back a snarl as the ship that carried him to the region of his banishment started to rock almost erratically due to the waves. He was accompanied only by a small group of servants, most of which had willingly agreed to travel with him. He remembered with loathing the sentence that his brothers had set upon him following his return to the Southern Isles. Leopold, his eldest brother and the current ruler of the region, had not the heart to sentence his youngest brother to death (unlike some of his brothers who were eager to argue that the offense was worthy of a dishonored hanging). Instead, he sentenced Hans to a lifetime isolated from the Kingdom, a banishment to an old summer home for the family near nothing save a simple village.
Hans recognized that he should probably be grateful that Leopold had spared his life, but he couldn't help but feel bitter anger instead. The look on his face began to betray the anger within, although on the majority of the trip here, he had managed to lock it away under a mask of indifferent composure. One of the servants, a maid by the name of Astrid had been watching him closely and noticed the change of expression. "Something wrong, sir?" she asked with obvious concern, causing the eyes of the rest of the servants to turn toward the Prince.
Hans' scowl deepened at suddenly having such an audience. Then an unhappy, bitter laugh burst forth from his throat as he said "Wrong? Why no, I enjoy the thought of being confined to an empty summer home in the middle of nowhere!" What was the point? There was no longer any reason to conceal his hatred, no reason to keep up his charming façade.
Astrid's head tilted downward at the comment, and she looked truly sorry. "I apologize, milord. I will not question you again." She said softly, obviously pained at his words.
The eldest of the servants (and no doubt the wisest of them all) turned a disapproving look on Hans, unafraid of the young man's position. Leopole was his name, and there was little wonder that the former King and Queen had decided to name their firstborn after the loyal servant. He was the most trusted servant of all, and was not afraid to reprimand any of the young princes as they grew up. Hans was no exception. "Young Master, there is a lesson here that I'm afraid you may have missed. Taking your anger out on Astrid, or anyone else for that matter, will not help you right now." Leopole scolded.
Hans rolled his eyes, although he knew that Leopole was right. The eyes of all the rest of the servants were on him now, but when he looked up coldly to meet their gaze, for the most part they all looked away. Only Leopole continued to meet the young prince's eyes with a kind but firm gaze. Finally Hans turned his back to them all and continued to look out over the expansive waters, wondering just when they would finally arrive on land. He knew it would soon come into view, and not moments later he thought he could just make out the faint lines of a nearing shore.
His suspicions were confirmed when the ship's Captain approached him and said "Nearly there, sir. Just another fifteen minutes and we will be docking onshore." This news did nothing to life Hans' mood, and he merely grunted at the man, a scowl still haunting his features. The Captain turned away then, shaking his head.
Hans didn't care. The Captain's opinion meant nothing to him, and he stood motionless, watching the shoreline drift closer and closer until the ship was finally docked at the tiniest shipyard imaginable. Hans was sure that the ship was at least twice the size of this docking area. He turned his nose up at the men rushing up to greet him. They looked like they were in great need of a shower, and some new clothes.
It was apparent that news of his attempted assassination of the ruler of Arendelle hadn't yet reached this far, because the men in question rushed up to greet their royal guest with excitement. Hans fought up enough strength to feign a charming smile for his welcoming committee. "Thank you for such a… warm reception." He paused to allow the men a chance express their delight at having one of their princes reside near their humble town.
One of the men admitted to being the mayor of Herrington Village; "Or as I like to call it, Fisherman's Paradise!" The man guffawed at his own attempt of a joke. Hans held back the urge to roll his eyes. "Anyway, my dear sir, Mayor Beau Childress, at your service, sir!" With that, the mayor bowed obscenely low to the ground, almost as if to make a mockery of the prince, but Hans knew that there was no malice behind the gesture. An exceeding lack of wit and charm, yes, but definitely no ill will.
Hans turned another charming smile on the men in front of him. "I really hate to impose on you gentlemen, but there is an awful lot of luggage that my servants and I must carry to our new residence. Would you mind… lending a hand?"
Terra Dawson worked tirelessly at catching the last of her father's prize-winning hens that had "mysteriously" escaped from their pen earlier in the morning. She silently cursed the two children that lived on the farm adjacent to their own, knowing that they had been mercilessly pulling pranks on her for a week, a "reckoning" they had declared upon her for scolding them. No doubt they were behind the chicken escape. "Get in there, you!" she huffed as she pushed the hen into the gate and closed it behind. Out of the corner of her eye, she perceived two small figures dashing for the neighbor's farm. "I saw you!" Terra called out to them, irritated. Then with a sigh, she returned to her usual morning chores.
"Terra, hey!" a familiar voice called to her, and when she looked up a smile graced her features.
"James! Am I glad to see you! You won't believe the trouble those little terrors next door cause me this morning!" Terra greeted, keeping her eyes on her daily tasks. For the moment, sweeping up the porch, then maybe a good sweep of the rest of the house, a trip to the barn… But now she was talking to one of the few young people left in town, also a very close friend of hers.
"I'm listening." James replied, crossing his arms as he waited to hear the latest torture inflicted on her.
Terra sighed. "For lack of a better phrase, the chickens flew the coop. The gate door was left wide open this morning, and I've spent hours running around and gathering them up. I just put the last one away when you walked up. And you don't have to look so pleased about it!" she scolded when she noticed that James looked minutely amused at the situation.
"Don't be so hard on them, they're just kids. They'll be out of your hair before you know it. Who knows, maybe they'll leave town eventually too." The look on James' face changed slightly, causing Terra to stop sweeping for a moment and study the expression. It seemed as if he had been waiting for a reaction from her at that last sentence.
It didn't take long for her to figure out what he was thinking. "You're going to leave soon." She said quietly, wishing in that instant that it would be just as easy for her to up and leave. At this point, she couldn't even consider the possibility.
James merely nodded. "Well, I've already been thinking about it for a while. Just, it feels like it's time. I've outgrown this place. I know you've had similar thoughts." Terra set the broom against the house and turned to face him fully. "I wasn't really planning on leaving alone, though."
Feeling the gravity of those words and the meaning behind them, she flushed and picked the broom back up. "Nor should you. It's always better to travel with a friend." She purposely didn't include herself in the thought, hoping he would pick up on that. It seemed that he did, but continued to push for it anyway.
"You're the best friend I've had in this place." He reminded her. When she didn't respond, he dropped the not-so-subtle hints and went for a direct approach. "I never imagined myself leaving without you."
"Sorry, it looks like you're gonna have to. You know why," Terra interrupted before he had a chance to ask. "The usual; family, household duties… the fact that every other young person in town plans to leave, which means I can't."
James countered. "You are not responsible to keeping the town stocked up on youth! If everyone is thinking about leaving, there's a reason for that! Besides, there's also plenty of younger people around here planning to stay. As for helping around the house, your sister is getting to the age where she should be helping out more anyway. Write letters and postcards, keep in touch with your family! But don't make them the excuse for why you don't go."
Terra paused from sweeping again. He had a good point. Several, in fact. But she was far too stubborn to admit it to him. "Why me? If you're ready to make some sappy declaration of love…"
James looked genuinely shocked. "Do you know me? I'm at least two years past that! No, but I'm just saying, we both want out. And there's practically no reason to delay." Terra made a gesture by rubbing her thumb and index finger together as a reminder— no money. James sighed. "I know, there's that, but we can figure it out."
Terra shrugged. "Guess I'm just a little scared about it." She admitted. It was true, there was nothing that she wanted more than to leave this place behind, start somewhere new. Maybe she would never stop. And then there was her sister, who was just turning twelve this month. She would need a role model, someone to look up to, wouldn't she? Terra wondered. Finally, she decided to compromise. There was no promise of a follow through, but she had to try, doubts aside. "Maybe. I don't know. Maybe."
James smiled, a tiny victory for his plan. "Remember, the greatest thing holding us back is our own doubts." He called back as he walked away from her.
"Stop trying to sound so wise!" she called back in a teasing voice. As her friend disappeared from view, she wondered if she should just… Let It Go.
"On my own, on my own…" Terra sang to herself, trying the words out on her tongue. Such a foreign, such a longed for concept! A smile touched her lips, just briefly, before she put the broom away and went into the house. There were always more chores to be done.