Disclaimer: I don't own TLM. I do own this plot.

26

"Fire!" Eric commanded, voice thundering over the polished deck of the naval vessel. The responding booms of cannon fire reported back to him as the dense balls of destruction rocketed across the space between them and their target. They fell just short.

He stood at the helm beside the Admiral, eyes fixed on the ever-growing profile of the pirates ship ahead of them. The day was growing late, the sun making its trek down the vivid blue sky. He had met up with the naval ship around noon after receiving a missive from the Admiral that the pirate ship had broken through the blockade and was heading north, the navy hot on their heels. Harold had commissioned one of the few fishing boats not destroyed in the attack to take Eric to board the navy vessel.

The ship was sleek and light, not weighted down with cargo. It was built for speed and had quickly caught up to the slower, heavier pirate ship near the palace grounds. Eric's heart had faltered on first sight of the ship, imagining Ariel aboard it enduring who only knew what.

"We aren't yet in range, Your Highness," the Admiral informed Eric. "A few more minutes and we should be. But if your betrothed is on board an attack may be unwise. We risk puncturing the hull below the waterline or hitting Milady."

Eric had a sudden image of Ariel being blasted by cannonballs and winced. No, that would not do. "What about boarding her?" Eric asked. "If we run alongside her we can toss the lines over and draw close enough to jump ship." Eric very much liked the idea of getting boots on deck of the ship and finding Ariel himself. The sooner she was returned to his arms the better. His hand drifted to the sword at his belt. He would get rid of anyone who stood between them.

Admiral Dunseny was shaking his head, a grimace playing at one corner of his mouth. "I am afraid that is unwise, Your Highness. We would risk driving them into shallow waters as they attempt to flee. You know as well as I do that there are many reefs and sandbars in these parts."

That was another terrifying thought. Eric did know the risk, having sailed with many fishing boats and other ships in these waters. It was risky business navigating between reefs and sandbars that appeared and disappeared with the changing tides. Even the most experienced captain's and helmsmen would not let their guards down around here. Eric himself had helped salvage more than one unlucky boat in these parts, pulling hapless men from their watery graves. Though water itself would not harm Ariel (she did still have gills) any amount of flying debris or shifting cannons on deck caused by the ship running aground could do untold injury to her. Best to keep them in deeper, safer water then.

"Are we close enough for your man to see what is happening on deck?" he asked, pointing towards the lookout nest towering above them. He may not know what to do at the moment but he wanted eyes on Ariel at the very least.

The admiral let out an ear-piercing whistle. A dark head popped out over the side of the nest, looking down. The admiral made a few quick gestures that Eric was unable to catch. The man replied in kind and disappeared.

"Not yet, Your Highness," Admiral Dunseny replied. "He can see figures moving on deck but nothing distinct. We must get closer."

Eric looked at the suns position again, concerned. Disregarding Ariel's initial threat of danger from the ships inhabitants, this was her final day of the bet with the Sea Witch. When would she change back to a mermaid? What would the pirates do if she did or, heaven forbid, already had? For the first time since Ariel had come ashore he felt the desperate need to talk to someone, to tell them the situation in its entirety and get an outsiders opinion on the matter. He and Ariel were so biased because of their involvement with the situation and Eric was afraid that his feelings were clouding his judgment and ability to make decisions. Not that he thought his decisions regarding Ariel and himself on a personal level were wrong, no he was more sure about that than anything else in his life, but when others were involved in the situation, such as the pirates and the men aboard the ship with him, he was worried. They did not know the true complexity of the situation.

"Admiral," Eric found himself saying to the tall, trim man beside him. Admiral Dunseny was in his mid forties and gave off the air of a collected and in control man. Would he find Eric's words ridiculous? Would he admit it if he did? Eric was, after all, his prince.

"Your Highness?"

"Are you married, sir?" The admiral arched an eyebrow, the only sign of surprise he outwardly displayed.

"Almost twenty years," he replied.

Eric felt his own surprise at that. He knew the admiral's service record. He had been working his way through the ranks for nearly thirty years, constantly excelling. Eric did not think it was possible to balance that type of lifestyle and maintain a good marriage. Eric had his own reservations about how his marriage would fair once he assumed the full mantle of king.

"And you are both happy?" he asked hesitantly. He did not want to pry but he felt his curiosity peaked.

"My wife has never said otherwise," Dunsany answered. "And she is the sort of woman who would tell me if it were so. As for me, it is always a joy when I return to her."

Eric did not hide his smile. She is the sort of woman who would tell me if it were so. Ariel was the same. He had no reservations about that. Ariel was compassionate and charitable but she was not a pushover. He had no doubt that if something concerned her about their relationship or she felt they were too distant that she would call him out on it.

"The key to a good marriage, Your Highness," Admiral Dunsany said after a few moments of silence, "is understanding each other. Lila understands my duties and my passion for my work. I understand that, while my duties are important to me and something I am truly compassionate about I must always put my wife and her happiness first."

"Do you ever find that the two conflict?" Eric asked. "Your duty and her happiness?"

"Frequently," he admitted. "I had the opportunity for promotion through the ranks many years ago," he said. "But I choose to keep a lower position for a while, despite my initial desires, for the freedom it allowed me. Lila and I raised our children together and once they were grown I took my position here and she is free to do what she likes on the farm. Her gardens are her passion."

"And…it works?" Eric asked. "You being gone so often?"

Dunsany sighed but smiled at his prince. "Your Highness nothing worth anything in life is easy. I'm sure Lila would have preferred me being home more often but she knew about my job when she married me. There were struggles but it was all worth it….if I may be so bold, Sir?"

"Please," Eric invited him.

"Milady knows that when she marries you she's also marrying your job. And she has accepted it. Any woman brave enough to take that on will work hard for it. For you."

Eric fought—and failed—to suppress the blood rising to his cheeks. He was a man. He was not supposed to be emotional or insecure but here Admiral Dunsany was, reassuring him on his relationship. What was worse, he actually found it comforting. His father had died before Eric had been old enough to truly discuss the commitment of marriage; it was encouraging to hear from the admiral.

He cleared his throat and attempted to play off his blush. "Thank you, Admiral. Your opinions are always welcome."

"Ho!" The cry came from far above in the lookouts nest, putting an end to their candid conversation. Both men looked up sharply. The lookout was hanging over the edge of his station, waving his spyglass around frantically. "Something's happening on deck!" he called down. "Something big!"

Captain Berragin looked at the melee on his deck with distain and disappointment. His men were rushing around the deck, manning their stations. Cannonballs were being stacked in neat pyramids to the left of each cannon, loading poles and fuses at the ready.

The naval ship was cutting through the distance between them like a knife, all clean lines and shining riggings. He glared at the scene before him as he mulled over his options. His ship couldn't outrun their pursuer, she was too old and too weighted down with the fruits of their labors. Maybe if they hadn't taken so much bounty during their raids and instead focused on what it was intended to be—a distraction—they could have managed to get away. But his men, and he himself, had seen it as a waste to leave so much behind. Now, however, with the hold nearly full of everything from grain to silver his ship would never have a chance of outrunning danger.

What were his options? He'd ground his beloved ship before letting her be boarded. He looked starboard and saw the clear outline of the palace just ahead. They'd be on it in minutes and he knew for a fact that there was a large reef just in front of it; the builders had planned it that way, using the reef system as a natural barrier against seaborne attacks on the palace. If they decided to fire upon them he'd make sure he went down in a blaze of glory. He'd spent too long on this ship, first as a gully boy and now as captain, to give her up. A good captain went down with his ship.

His eyes landed on the cause of his situation, the bright flash of scarlet on the dirty deck. Her hair was darkened by the water she'd been submerged in but still vivid around her. For a moment he could imagine that it was blood pooling around her but knew otherwise. Either way she was dead.

He was disappointed. He'd really thought she was a mermaid. The woman with purple eyes had been so adamant about it. The chilling demeanor and sense of power she exuded had left him with no doubt. Aside from that revelation were his own memories. Over ten years past he'd seen the mermaids for himself. Nearly caught a red headed mermaid much like the woman lying on his deck now. He'd thought it was fate intervening when he'd laid eyes on this woman. She was his second chance.

But now she was dead. She was dead and so were they.

He looked back at their pursuer. He could just make out the dark head of the prince standing at the helm. He'd make sure they were all dead for what they'd done to his woman; the man would do anything for her.

The thought struck him suddenly and he whirled back around to look at the crumpled form on the deck. How long had it even been since they'd dropped her there and gone to their stations? A minute? Two? She was dead but maybe the other ship didn't know that; they'd only just gotten close enough to see the deck. And the prince would do anything to get her back, even direct his ship away from them if it meant saving her.

"Oi!" he bellowed. "You and you!" He pointed to two burly men among his crew. He couldn't quite remember their names just then. "Grab the girl and throw her over starboard! And you!" he called to the helmsman. "Turn portside! Out to sea man, be quick about it!"

There was general confusion among the crew but they knew to obey Berragin. The two men grabbed the waterlogged and limp body, still tied about the wrists, and swiftly brought her to the starboard side; he could feel the ship turning out to sea as they did.

Hoping to whoever was listening that their pursuers could clearly see what was happening on deck, he gave the signal to his men. With one last heave they tossed the woman over the side of the ship and into the water below.