Hello, and welcome to my second official story! I technically have two others, but we don't talk about that avatar one. Hah. That being said, my previous story was based on the motion picture adaptation of Beauty and the Beast. And boy, that was fun. I liked it so much, that I've decided to keep with the Disney theme and create a new story!

For those new to me, hello, I'm Essel, a huge history and Disney nerd who would rather write a story than do pre-calculus homework. There are a few things you can expect from me: I upload new chapters a few times a week. That's right. I hate it when people take a month between each chapter. Here and there I'll take a break, but it should be pretty constant. Also, I love putting history into my stories, so expect some twists inspired by real life in my writing ;)

So, I hope you enjoy my The Little Mermaid story. Don't be shy to leave a review, I do try to respond to the best of my ability. :D

Prologue: A Painting

The little tyke looked up at her grandfather, holding her arms up while she opened and closed her hands quickly. She was practically begging him to pick her up and spin her around like he always did when he greeted the little redhead. But this time he didn't. Instead, he leaned down and hugged her tightly to his chest. The little one was confused when she felt his tears land on her shoulder.

"Wus wong Morfar?" She asked, using her preferred name for him. It was one she could pronounce, and thus, she liked it.

The older man took in a deep breath. "Something horrible has happened, my little Asta. I will explain to you later, but right now the council needs me," He said, pulling back and patting his hand softly on her head. She looked at him with the ocean green eyes that he was so fond of, confused by his words.

"Buh why? I wanna know!" Asta protested, a frown appearing on her little face.

A servant came by and took the angered toddler from her grandfather so he could make his way to the important meeting. Watching her retreating guardian, she started stomping and wriggling, letting loose shouts of indignance. "Let me gwo!" She yelled at the servant.

The servant rolled his eyes, used to the child's common tantrums. "No, the King has to go to the council. It's extremely important."

Still, Asta struggled in the servant's arms as he carried her to her chamber. It was a grand playroom that had been specially built in the palace for her, but the sight of it did not lighten her mood in any way. The two year old huffed and stomped her foot when she was finally put down. Her morfar needed her! After all, he had hugged her, not the silly council! They were always stealing him from her. They were constantly stealing her grandmother away as well. She vowed that when she would be queen one day the council would be the first thing to be banished. Stupid adults, thinking they know everything. Nobody did! At least that was what Asta believed. Everyone told her that she didn't know yet, that one day she would, or that she didn't understand. She liked to think they didn't either.

The young girl laughed as she chased after the butterfly. It was dark out, a storm on the horizon, so she was trying to get as much time outdoors as she could before her grandfather called her, probably to do some of her studies.

"A ten year old girl needs to know these things, Asta," He would say. She would roll her eyes when he wasn't looking and mimic him. He always said that, and when she had a birthday, sometimes he'd even forget to say her current age. She knew he tried, but she bet that if her mother were alive she would never mess up her age. After all, Asta would be a perfect daughter so her mother would never forget.

Her head turned sharply when she heard a servant call her name. She gave a small shriek as she ran off in the opposite direction, giggling as she did so. Her flowing blue dress made it difficult to move quickly, but she still managed to outrun the servants across the garden. She made her way to one of the wings - which one, she did not know - and breathed heavily as she started running out of steam. She had always been light on her feet, as the servants knew quite well by now.

The girl rounded a corner and made her way through a small servant's door. She stifled a laugh as she heard all of the footsteps go by outside. She could hear her heart pounding as their sounds faded away. She waited until she could no longer hear them, and let out a breath of air she had been holding in because of the adrenaline.

Asta glanced around the darkness, unsure of where she was in the castle. The windows had drapes covering their light, as the small amount of furniture was also covered by sheets. She began walking down the grand hall-like room. It seemed like an old parlor, despite how grand it was. Odd, she hadn't known about this part of the castle. It must have been the southern wing. Her grandfather said it was old and decrepit; in total, just a waste of stone and effort. So it had been shut off from the rest of the castle, rather recently in the castle's long history if she remembered correctly. She took it upon herself to look around. After all, she could be the first person to see this room in years! The idea excited Asta and she walked with more confidence around the dusty room.

There were a few armchairs, as well as a rather large davenport. She found an old armoire full of various old objects as well, including white pearl earrings and, oddly enough, a three-pronged fork. She put those down, not caring about why they were there. They seemed silly. What didn't seem silly to her, however, was the single painting in the room, which was covered. She stared at it for a few moments, her green eyes fixated on the painting.

In the end, her curiosity won out and she made her way to the painting. She placed her delicate hand at the top of the sheet, ready to pull it down. She doesn't understand why, but she has a feeling as if she is intruding. Perhaps there is a reason this area was closed off, and everything covered. She takes a deep breath in, the dust and antique smell taking up her senses. She decides to close her eyes and take the cover off that way. It felt much less invasive that way.

She heard the sheet fly off and land on the floor. She opened one eye slightly, but she was quickly wide-eyed as she took in the large portrait that was easily a foot taller than she. She could immediately recognize her grandfather, albeit forty or so years younger than he was now. But the woman next to him, well, she took Asta a few moments to try and figure out. The red hair looked so amazingly familiar, and she absent-mindedly stroked her own. Then it dawned on her.

"That's Mormor Ariel!" She exclaimed to herself, surprised it took her so long to recognize her own grandmother. She was so beautiful in the painting. Asta wondered if she had been like that in real life. She had only known her when she was a tot, until she had gone missing when she was a couple years old. She couldn't even remember exactly how old she was when it happened.

She had been the last female in the family, besides Asta. The young girl knew that after her mother had died in childbirth, and her father never present in the first place, the idea was for Mormor Ariel and Morfar Eric to raise her. Despite missing his other half, Asta thought he was doing quite well in raising his heir. She felt she was quite smart and beautiful. She wasn't sure why the other kids didn't like her; she was going to be their queen someday, and they treated her quite differently than that. Perhaps if Mormor Ariel was still around the other kids would like her more.

Asta hadn't noticed the hours tick by. She had sat on the ground, staring at the painting of her grandparents in their wedding clothes, on a beautiful ship. The ocean in the background looked so alive, like the waves truly were moving. It captivated her. She had always loved the water but she was scared of it and what lays underneath the beautiful blue. Thoughts of her grandmother and the ocean filled her mind until she noticed how dark the room had truly become. The sun must have set beneath the storm clouds and the hills for the night.

The young girl didn't have the energy to search around the dark and find the way to the rest of the castle, and the dark didn't bother her. She grabbed the sheet that had previously been on the painting and pulled it close. Sleep found her easily.

So that was pretty short, but I wanted to introduce the concept to everyone. Expect a longer chapter uno soon.

*As a note, Morfor is Danish for grandfather, and Mormor is Danish for grandmother. I do try to have some cultural and language-based dialogue for my characters, though google translate can only do so much for me. If you see a mistake in that, please. let me know! I am in no way Danish lol.

Disney Question of the Day (carried on from my previous Beauty and the Beast Story): Favorite old Disney cartoon character? Mine would probably be Goofy :D

If you liked the prologue, or have some constructive criticism, let me know!