ELISE rolled her neck to crack it, though the old woman, whose name was not truly Elise as she would have had the tow-headed simple folk of the fishing village of Ipswich believe, began to feel the burning tingling in her veins and spread, all the while the magic that flared to life within her formed a tight ball in her stomach, threatening to explode if she did not reach the shores and fast. She had to get to the water, and she did not have much time left before her magic imploded.
Thankfully, the shores this morning were quiet as she had to lift the skirts of her itchy woolen dress as she walked to avoid tripping over the mortal garment's long hem. She wriggled her human toes in the sand in hopes of alleviating the itch, but it didn't.
If anything, it only worsened. The itching transformed into a harrowing burning that nearly made her cry out in pain as she absentmindedly fingered the jewel at her neck, a pendant in the form of a nautilus as she waded knee-deep into the water, and then submerged completely. Elise allowed her magic to take over and the change started as tentacles began to sprout from the human appendages she dared to call legs. The uncomfortable sensation worsened. Elise, who was actually the feared sea witch, Ursula, did her best to block out the pain. She almost sneered and stifled a scream as she bit down on her tongue hard enough that she tasted her blood and was grateful no Great White Sharks were circling these waters. What a foolish and trivial word.
"Agony," she thought was perhaps a more suited choice. She gasped and arched her back and knew what came next, the ten seconds of the seven hells itself that used to make her swear whenever she would take on human form to study the ways of the human world while she dabbled in the Dark Arts and her magics, that she would rather die and be food for the sharks than to suffer this.
Though it was a necessary evil, she had tried to tell herself, this torture, to be trapped in this wretched miserable human form of the old woman who had died of a complaint of a heart some time back.
The old biddy's body served as the perfect empty husk for Ursula to inhabit as she took on the guise of a caring elderly woman to ensure her long-suffering daydreamer of a niece adhered to the terms of their bargain. Though the mortal woman's body had reached its limitations and she could no longer inhabit it as it started to decay, and thus, the reason she had faked 'Elise's' death.
She had given King Triton's youngest daughter the legs she had so desperately desired, though all magic came at a price, and Ariel's price was steep. The lovely little sea poppet had agreed that her memories of her time under the sea would be forfeited, in exchange to remain on land as a human.
Ursula had assented to the odd nature of Ariel's request and had done as the princess had asked, though out of pure curiosity and to ensure there were no gaping holes in her magic, she had disguised herself as the old woman, Elise, and had assumed the fallen woman's identity. It had been easy enough to fool Ariel, the simple fool, into thinking that she genuinely cared for her, though that could not have been further from the truth.
There was nothing Ursula thought she wanted more than Ariel's soul, a good and pure soul, hers was, which was hers and hers alone should the day come when the princess remembered even a flitting shadow of her past life.
And if the day would come when she did, well...then...the little sea poppet's soul was as good as hers. King Triton's wretched daughter would remember nothing of her old life. Or else…
Well, it was quite simple really. She would kill her.
ARIEL lay asleep in her bed, burrowed head to toe underneath the warm covers of her bedding as her mind danced with pleasant thoughts and dreams, all of them involving a life with Prince Eric. The calming melody of the church bells that came from the village's local chapel at the edge of town could be heard flooding the town square with their melodious sounds as they rang to signal the start of another new day. The music forced her from her sleep and her rested eyes fluttered open daintily as she rolled over onto her side and peered out through her bedside window, where the Prince had graciously put her up in a spare room in the servants' quarters, next to his friend, Molly, the Head Maid Carlotta's niece, and someone whom she hoped could become a good friend. The sky outside was dark and grey this morning, a cool chill sweeping through the crack in her window. A perfect day to simply lay in bed and stay warm all day, but alas, she could not. She had her new duties to attend to, as much as she would have liked to lounge.
She inhaled deeply as the scent of freshly baked bread filled her small nose, the good smells of the loaves of bread and various pastries making her mouth water and stomach grumble. She was reminded she had eaten little yesterday and hoped she would be given something to eat. Ariel curled the bedding tighter around her body for warmth as she sat up without a single trace of sleepiness. She yawned and gave a long stretch, her red hair messy and unkempt from sleep and several locks hung around her face like a curtain. She looked back to the window and out at the sea in the distance and for reasons that she could not explain, felt a strange little tug at her heartstrings, as though something of the sea was calling her home. Ariel furrowed her brows, confused.
It was a strange feeling, one of the strangest she'd ever felt. Ariel frowned. She was not so sure she liked feeling this way, but for the moment, could not allow herself to dwell on it. She reluctantly slipped out of her warm bed and gave another long stretch, rolling her neck to crack it, and shuffled towards her small wardrobe shoved against the wall of the corner of her room to get dressed.
Ariel dressed hurriedly in an ivory chemise with a yellow overdress that brought out the fiery red tones of her hair, haphazardly running a brush through her hair and leaving it loose and flowing this morning, not having time to braid it.
She hastily slipped into a pair of scuffed-looking clogs that looked to have seen better days, likely having belonged to the last girl who'd held this position before her, and hurried out the door. When she was sure she had everything taken care of, Ariel darted towards the door, wrenching it open and barreling out of the room without bothering to look back behind her, relieved when she reached the kitchens, though she had not expected to find the blonde, Molly, and her husband Steffan already there, conversing with the head chef, a loud boisterous Frenchman named Louis whom Ariel could not help but dislike.
Perhaps it was his penchant for cooking fish or the man's macabre fascination with various types of poisons.
She could not explain why the notion bothered her so much, as people in the village of Ipswich ate fish on the regular, considering their kingdom's industry was exactly that: known for its fish and the fishing trade. But…it did. She frowned, shaking her head to clear her mind of such thoughts, and turned questioning eyes towards the couple and tried to smile, though her smile felt strained.
"Good morning, Molly, and Steffan," she chirped, hoping her voice sounded level-headed and polite as she smiled.
It was obvious they had been talking, and most probably about her since their conversation went quiet the moment Ariel strode into the kitchens. Molly gave her husband's stump a reassuring squeeze as she shot the broad-chested man a funny little smile.
Ariel's gaze drifted down towards the man's stump, his missing hand an accident from one of the wars, Steffan had explained, during her first day here at the castle, when an enemy soldier on the opposing frontlines had taken his sword hand and thus, he had given up his life of war and violence and bloodshed and entertained a life of peace with Molly instead, and happier for it.
Steffan's expression brightened considerably as he lowered his head reverently to Ariel by way of greeting.
"The lady finally graces us with her presence," he told her, a slight mocking lilt to his voice though Ariel knew he only meant it as a joke meant to make fun of how well she'd slept last night. "You must have slept well then?" he questioned, his question posed to her just now innocent enough, though Ariel's cheeks flushed a deep cherry red, and she turned away as she held out the tray so the chef could prepare the Prince's breakfast this morning. Did he…did he know about her dream? About her thoughts on Eric?
One look out of the corner of her lowered gaze at Molly's husband was more than enough.
No. No, surely he did not, that was ridiculous. There was no way anyone but her could know of her dreams. Ariel's blush intensified as she felt the burn of her new friends' gazes burning a hole in the side of her skull as she watched Chef Louis set down three strips of crispy bacon still dripping in oil on his plate, along with a few hard-boiled eggs and a platter of what looked like salmon.
Bile rose in her throat and Ariel barely stifled the reflexive gasp of disgust that sounded at the back of her throat. Unfortunately, the noise did not go unnoticed by the loud Frenchman, who turned and quirked an eyebrow at Ariel's growing discomfort.
"What's the matter, mademoiselle, you do not like fish? You're a pretty sight indeed, but you are odd," he snorted. "A pity if you don't enjoy the succulent taste fish has to offer, you are far too skinny, and fish is the main export for our village. If you don't learn to like it, you'll starve," he barked, and Ariel could not be sure, but she thought the French chef was sounding highly offended.
Ariel struggled to think of what to say to that as she shook her head no, her lips pursed into a line of disapproval, though it was Molly, gods bless the blonde, who stepped forward and angrily came to Ariel's rescue.
"Shut it, Louis, the Prince needs his breakfast sooner than he needs your opinions on his maid's dietary preferences, hurry up and pour the Prince some more wine, or Steffan here will be forced to use the only hand he's got left and shove some of those poisons you're so fond of babbling on about down your throat, eh?" Molly told the boisterous Frenchman meanly with a sneer, to which Louis leered at her but said nothing, ignoring the blonde as she rolled her eyes to the ceiling and shot Ariel a furtive little wink.
Ariel had expected the chef to angrily retort. Instead, he seemed merely content to turn back towards the stove and continue cooking. Ariel suspected the entire rest of the castle could be on fire for all the chef cared, and he would still be back here in the kitchens behind the stove, working away at his creations. She sighed and shrugged her shoulders as the chef finished and she turned back around to find Molly and Steffan looking at her expectantly, standing so close to one another that their shoulders touched.
"Eric is in the dining room this morning, waiting for you, and he's asked you join him for breakfast," Molly chirped with a knowing glint in her brown eyes that Ariel was not sure what to make of, as if she had sensed her thoughts as she had been about to ask where to find him.
Ariel's eyes widened at the notion of taking a meal with the Prince, though she recovered quickly and nodded shyly, glancing down at the heavily laden breakfast tray in her hands.
She could not refuse, and she did not want to seem ungrateful to the Prince, or his friends. Molly, Steffan, and the others were doing their best to make her feel welcomed and she appreciated it more than she thought she could put into words.
"Thank you, Molly, I—I should go then, I don't want to keep him waiting long," she blurted out, her words clumsy and blunt, and she mumbled a hasty goodbye as she turned on her heels and fled the kitchens without bothering to look back behind her, leaving Steffan and Molly watching her depart. Molly smiled as Steffan made an odd noise of dissent through his nose.
The blonde scowled and turned towards her husband.
"What? I know that sound, Stef, what's wrong?" Molly asked innocently enough, sticking out her bottom lip in a slight pout and biting down on it. "You don't think this will work?" she asked him, feigning hurt feelings as she waited for Steffan to speak.
Steffan chuckled, a low noise that came from deep within the man's broad chest as he wound his arms around Molly's small waist. Unlike most in the castle who were bound to one another in bonds of marriage, the two of them had never exactly stood big on ceremony or hid their emotions in their marriage. They were quite open and affectionate with one another and cared not who saw it.
He drew his wife close to him and rested his chin on her left shoulder, never taking his gaze from the spot where the pretty supposed mermaid from the sea had stood only moments ago. He kissed her neck.
"Oh, I simply cannot enjoy the fact that my wife is an adorable little minx when she's devious? You little matchmaker, Eric did not call for her this morning. To see her again will be a surprise, one that he will least expect this morning, but hopefully a pleasant one," he teased, moving his lips to Molly's temple and could not help but smile as she snuggled closer to him, reluctant to leave the warmth of the kitchens to go back out into the cold and drafty halls, reluctant to get her day started.
Molly smiled bashfully and lowered her gaze to the floor, hoping there would be no punishment for attempting to give the situation a push in the right direction. Eric seemed very ham-handed around this pretty girl, this strange but sweet enough redhead, and she sensed the Prince would not take initiative on his own, and as the man's best friend, she knew when it was her duty to lend a helping hand, and when to keep a respectful distance and let him be the one in charge.
This morning, however, was a 'helping hands' moment. "I've seen the way he looks at her, Stef, when he thinks that we are not looking, but I see it. He's smitten with her," she sighed deeply and shook her head. "For all I know, he might even be in love with her now. Or at least, in love with the idea of her. All they need now I hope is time alone together, and who knows, perhaps the next time we see them together, she will have opened up to him a bit more and maybe remembered something. Then, she can tell us if she's one of Triton's merfolk or not." Molly turned and looked towards her husband with such hope in her brown eyes, that Steffan did not have the heart to tell his beloved that he did not think this girl, an odd one though she was, was a mermaid.
Though the two suspected that only time would tell.
ARIEL tried to move as swiftly and quietly through the vast halls of the castle as she could, grateful that after just three days spent in the castle, she could at least walk the path to the lavish dining room by memory if nothing else.
She thought Molly would no doubt be able to slip past the other maids and guards and waitstaff unseen, but she, with her vibrant red hair was not so skilled. Her legs moved of their own accord all the while her brain screamed at her that this was a terrible idea.
What if she made a fool of herself in front of Eric, said or did the wrong thing? What would people think, if someone besides Molly or Steffan were to see them sharing a meal? Gossiping tongues would start wagging no doubt, and then it would put them both in danger. Thankfully, this side of the castle was quiet today, and everybody appeared to be minding their own business.
Prince Eric was already seated at the table, the biggest animal she had ever seen in her entire life by its feet and when she saw it, the furry beast raised its head, its pink tongue dripping saliva onto the floor. Ariel gaped, her mouth going slightly slack in surprise as her mind went black. The creature was huge, covered in fur, and black and white. She suspected if it were to stand up on its back legs, then it would be as tall as her, if not taller yet. She started to back away in fear, her chest tight, though before she could, the beast lunged towards her and pounced, sending the Prince's breakfast tray flying and had her pinned to the floor.
"Max!" she heard the Prince shout angrily, as Ariel tried to scream as the beast's huge paws had her chest pinned. She squirmed underneath the creature, though its body weight was enough to keep her firmly in place. She could only squeeze her eyes shut as she waited for the inevitable feeling of its teeth sinking into the skin of her neck, but that moment didn't come. Instead, the animal began to lick her neck and face. "Max! Stop that! Get off of her!" she heard the Prince's voice scold in a clipped, irate tone, and the animal's weight was lifted off of her and she heard the creature give off the most pathetic-sounding whimper she had ever heard.
Ariel shot open her eyes as she sat upright, dazed and confused, as she realized that the creature was friendly. She turned panic-filled, questioning eyes towards the Prince, who had a firm hand around the animal's neck and was holding it back, keeping the creature called Max from lunging at her again, though she thought the strange animal seemed to be in the mood for play.
Eric shot her an apologetic look and gave the animal an affectionate pat on the head.
"I'm so sorry about that, Ariel, Max didn't mean it, did you, you big lout?" he scolded, a note of firmness in his voice, though the Prince's blue eyes were twinkling in astonishment as he ruffled the animal's fur and looked back at her. "You are the first person he's ever approached like this. It's…new to see him like this. I'm sorry he startled you, he doesn't usually get so excited around women like that before, but you, he seems to like. Here, why don't you come in and sit down, you're looking pale, I hope he didn't scare you too much. It's good that you're here, I was hoping that you might want to sit and eat with me. I don't like to eat alone, and you look like you need to sit down for a moment and get your bearings back anyways," he told her, concerned, not liking how she looked.
"I, y-yes, of course, b-but...Wh-what is he?" she whispered, curious and taken aback, thinking she'd never seen such a creature.
"An Old English Sheepdog," Eric told her, rising to his feet and without even waiting to be asked, helped Ariel to stand upright and brushed off the skirts of her dress. "And the clumsiest dog I think I've ever owned. But also easily one of the sweetest. Now...about that meal?" he questioned, a note of hope in his voice as his eyebrows rose so far up onto his forehead that they almost disappeared into his hairline.
"Y-yes, I-I was just...er, what I meant to say was, I—I'd like that, Y-Your Highness, I—I mean, Eric," she stammered, mentally kicking herself for forgetting his preference that she does not call him by any sort of titles. Thankfully, the Prince did not seem to notice her slip-up as she forgot her manners as he shyly nodded to her and motioned for her to step inside with a wave of his arm.
Ariel could only comply and did as invited, not seeing Eric close the wide oak double doors of the dining room behind him, though as he was just about to shut it all the way, he caught Molly's aunt, Carlotta, regarding him happily from across the hallway, clutching a handful of freshly dried linens in her arms.
Carlotta smiled at seeing the light pink blush speckle along his cheeks as he hurriedly closed the door behind him, desperate for a moment alone with Ariel. Carlotta's grin only widened once the doors were fully shut.
She suspected that come to the end of the month, perhaps, Eric would work up the courage to ask Ariel if he could court her, and then, the young master and his mermaid from the sea would officially be a couple.
Oh, such bliss.
