The Princess and the Pirate are united by their desire to find their way home. He gives in to her abundant, generous and addictive nature as she surrenders to his tasting her. She, who is made of wood, she who creaks, cracks and whispers while a stunned Universe witnesses that most unlikely marriage.
“Are you happy, Princess? Are you content?” the Captain asks, “you’ve never looked so pretty, so smooth and o so sparkly. Soon, we’ll be on our way, you and I.”
Give it to the stars, give it to the gods, give it to all creatures; there are moments best lived and never forgotten. Happy, beaming and unaware of the inexorable passing of the best of times, the Captain, a pirate in mirth, a child that could never be, now swings merrily by the Princess’ newly created instrument of hope and yearning. But a pirate remains a pirate and a drunk one at that because the Captain cannot help but swing merrily again and again at the end of the rope, until his right shoulder smashes into his and her frozen object of pleasure that would have brought them home. The rudder breaks into a myriad of amber coloured pieces of ice falling, falling into the Universe.
“Princess,” the Captain says,” I’m sorry.”
“You? Sorry?” Labaguette asks, his instincts kicking in after having his dreams shattered inside his head and knowing immediately that going home cannot be had. For him, someone must take the blame.
To be continued…