Catherine

On the day of the ball, I spent most of the morning sitting in the rose garden, alternating my gaze between the moist petals and the dagger-like thorns. Mary had stood nearby the entire time, trying to conceal her miserable sneezes. I knew it was cruel to keep her near the flowers because of the horrible reactions she had to them, but what was I paying her for, if not to keep me company when I needed it? Her annoying misery deepened my scowl, and I jabbed my needle deeper into my embroidery.

My thoughts were scattered and confused. I didn't know what I was doing here; Erik wouldn't come. Our betrothal hadn't been called off, but now I was wondering if I should have released him. I didn't want to marry someone who didn't want to marry me. But why wouldn't he want to marry me? I came from one of the most noble, pure blooded families in Denmark! My ancestors had been kings and queens! I was a fond relation of the future King of Denmark! I was soft spoken, docile, fair enough in music and dance, and excellent in the arts regarding embroidery! I could converse in both English and Danish, had a decent learning of Latin, and well versed in the bible. I was beautiful; it is vain and unholy to think of one's self as beautiful, but the mirror has never lied to me or other woman in my family. My family's wealth was spectacular. I was charitable everyone, even street wretches. More than one of my father's friends had said that I would make the perfect wife! So what could have happened that made Erik doubtful?

This question stayed on my mind. I rehearsed what I would say to him over and over in my head. Sometimes I considered a scenario where he'd beg and beg for forgiveness, but I'd just laugh and Christian would banish him from court, and he'd go live in some horrible flea-ridden village. And every day he would pine and pine over how he'd lost me, and maybe I would forgive him on his death bed.

Or sometimes, I saw him telling me how he had been horribly blinded or misguided by something, or some harlot...but it only made him realize how much more he loved me. I would be distant and aloof, but eventually his poetry and unending gifts would convince me of his undying love, and we'd be married. After that, we'd have ten children and live happily ever after, just like in those tales.

At last, Erik strode up the path. His eyes fell on me and stretched beyond my back, a lingering question in their depths. I shot an annoyed glare at Mary, and she dutifully faded out of hearing distance.

There was an awkward silence that had never existed before. I shifted my position and stared intensely at my embroidery as if it was the most captivating object I'd ever laid eyes on.

" I didn't think you'd come," I finally said, unable to bear the silent void any longer.

" Why would you think that?"

" I don't know. I just did."

The words sounded limp and childish. I wrung my hands and tried to remember the countless speeches I had practiced in my head. I had only gone over this scenario a thousand times in my head! But now, here Erik was for the first time since he had implied that we wouldn't be suited for marriage, and I couldn't think of anything halfway intelligent to say.

" Was Hanne with you earlier? No one's seen her around today, though she might be with Christian. There were some things in the back of the library that I thought she might like to see," he told me quietly after another harrowing silence.

Why in God's name did he think I cared about Hanne? The foolish little half-wit did nothing but prance around the prince with a perpetually idiotic grin on her face. How could Erik even think of some stupid little peasant girl when I was trying to have a discussion with him? If Christian hadn't been so infatuated with her, I would of half suspected Erik lusting after her himself. That in mind, I gathered up my courage and forced myself to speak.

" Erik, there is only one thing I need to know, the same thing since the first time I met you. Do you love me or not? Nothing else matters but that. Don't lie, or I swear by all that is holy that I'll know. Is there another woman? I need to know. I won't marry you if you don't love me," I whispered, my voice breaking.

There was a dead silence for the space of a moment, but it felt like an eternity. Nothing couldb be heard but the faint hum of the sea breeze and the distant cry of sea gulls. To my horror, warm, ugly tears began to well in my eyes. I wished they were the kind that a woman like Hanne could conjure up, tiny iridescent droplets that enhanced her already unfair Helen-like beauty.

Erik placed his large hand on my own and looked at me with troubled eyes. How hard could it be to answer such a simple question?

" I've never lied to you. It's true that I have always loved you," he said in a gentle voice, as if he were placating a small child.

I bit my lip and closed my eyes as he paused, not trusting myself to speak. He continued, and I could hear the wry smile in his voice.

" When we were younger, I used to lie up at night and think about you until I fell asleep. Clady, you remember her–she used to cackle about how hopelessly love-sick I was. I believed that we were fated to be together, in spite of our different statuses."

" Believed?," I interrupted, unable to resist pointing out his use of past tense.

Fresh tears began to well in my eyes, but he tilted my chin upwards and brushed away my tears.

" The shipwreck changed me, Catherine. We both knew it and tried to avoid it in hopes that it would go away, but it never did. I love you, Catherine, but there are parts of me that.....," his voice trailed off for a moment. " There are parts of me that changed. I gave you my word that I would marry you, and I'd never take it back. I can't love you like I did before, but that doesn't mean I ever stopped loving you. I don't know if it's enough."

His voice was grave, but I threw my arms around his neck. His explanation was vague and troubled, but that had always been Erik's way.

" You are a confusing man, Erik. But I think that's why I've always been drawn to you," I whispered, thanking God that he still loved me. We would move away from these troubled times after our marriage. Marriage would change everything. After all, Erik said it himself, we were fated to be together.

He muttered something under his breath, I pulled back slightly to look up at him quizzically. He shook his head no, and we stayed frozen in time until we heard footsteps. It was a mistake not to look up and see the pain in his eyes. And I would never realize that he had never answered my question about another woman until years later, when everything was unchangeable and set in stone.

Pearl

A rough tongue swiped itself across my cheek wetly and I dimly became aware of the hot sun coursing against my cheek. For that moment in between consciousness and a dreamlike state, I felt an overwhelming sense of peace, just like the ocean on a clear night. My eyes slowly fluttered open.

A skinny, scraggly dog gave an enthusiastic bark and licked me once again. I jumped involuntarily and jerked back at the sight of it, fully awake. It wagged it's tail in a simple motion and snuffled my hand with his moist nose. I cautiously allowed it to continue investigating the smell of my skin. Turning my head towards the door, I wondered if the mangy dog had somehow run up from the servant's quarters.

But instead of the palace, it was a quiet, austere room with a sole ray of late afternoon sunshine streaming in from a narrow window. My head abruptly began to swim, and I unsteadily placed my hand on the crumbling stone wall. Where was I?

With that sudden thought, fragmented memories began rushing back to me. My sisters, the men, the cottage, Balduin's plan, the boy's quick lie, my escape into the darkness. I drew in a silent gasp–how many days had it been? Could Christian be dead already? I tried to recall how I had managed to get in this plain little room, but my mind remained blank. The dog let out a high pitched whine and nudged my hand again. Almost immediately after the dog's noise, the sound of footsteps on creaking floorboards echoed.

" Ulf, you flea crazed mutt, shut your trap or you'll — Milady, praise to God, you're awake! Ulf wake you? Ay, well don't fall back asleep, I'll be right back!," Pedar exclaimed as he peeked into the room.

Relief flooded through me at the sight of the street boy's kind, dirt stained face. He bobbed his head respectfully, as if I were the prince or Catherine, and hurried back down the hallway. I opened my mouth to instinctively call after him, forgetting for what seemed the millionth time that I no longer had a voice. Never the less, I still felt a pang of sadness each time it happened. It was so bittersweet that I would never be able to walk on two legs without singing and hearing the sweet melody that all merfolk possess. But none of that mattered right now. What mattered was getting to the palace and finding Erik and telling him what I knew! Or at least Christian, or Catherine. One of them!

My frantic thoughts were cut short by Pedar's reentry with a loaf of bread, followed by Father Josef. I finally realized that I was in one of the backrooms of the cathedral.

" Should've had guards with you, Milady. No telling what sort of dogs some of those fine lords might be. I would of taken you back to the palace, but then you fainted like you'd seen a ghost!. You've been fading in and out of consciousness for all night and nearly all day now! You–– what's wrong? Look at her, she's shaking. Milady–."

Father Josef shushed him and placed the loaf of bread in my hands. It was still slightly warm, fresh from the oven, but the aroma only turned my stomach. I thrust it back at him and tried to rise out of the bed, desperately trying to mime what had happened to me.

" Hush child, lay back down, you took quite a hit on the head. Young Pedar tells me there was a man threatening you, but you're safe now. Perfectly safe. No man will harm you in a house of God. Rest and we'll get you back to the palace in due time," the priest told me compassionately in a soothing tone, placing the warm bread back in my hands.

Pedar gently pushed me back down on the tiny wooden bed, shooting a worried glance at the priest. I immediately pushed him back and frantically tried to communicate the plot against Christian once more.

Pedar, obviously afraid that I was going to act rashly and hurt myself, tried to lung and grab at my arms again. But Father Josef moved his hand to stop him, and kept his intelligent eyes on me as I desperately tried my best to act out what I had seen. I mimed following the footprints and eavesdropping on the horrible conversation I heard. I motioned wearing a crown on my head and cutting a man's throat and more, until there was nothing more I could communicate without words.

When I finished, Pedar stared at me dumbfounded and the priest looked at me with a grave expression.

" You are very lucky to still be alive, My lady. Who is the man behind this foul plot?," he asked with a hint of worry in his eyes.

I paused, trying to think how I could express Balduin's name. Oh, what I would do for words! But an idea suddenly occurred to me, one that should have before. I quickly motioned for Pedar to get me a quill and some parchment. After a swift glance at the priest, the street boy hurried out of the room and returned shortly with an austere quill and a dirty scrap of paper.

In careful, deliberate letters, I wrote out Balduin's name, then handed it to Father Josef. If he was surprised, his expression didn't betray it. I took the paper back and wrote out everything I hadn't been able to convey to him through hand motions, all the while thinking of Erik. Fear gripped me–what if something happened to him before I could warn him? I couldn't think of the idea—I wouldn't let myself.

Father Josef finished reading what I had to say. His face wore an expression that I had never seen before and was utterly incomprehensible. He spared a glance at Pedar as he stood up.

" Pedar, lad, go saddle up the donkey in the stable. Preferably don't let anyone know you're doing it, if possible. The ball begins at dusk, which has already come. The fate of a kingdom rests in the hands of an ass, a beggar boy, and a mute girl. But God chooses unlikely messengers to carry out his bidding. Run quickly," he instructed the young boy.

He nodded and swiftly dashed off, not sparing a glance behind. The priest turned his gaze back to me and surveyed me with a careful eye.

" You plan to denounce Balduin in front of the entire court of Denmark?," he asked me quietly.

I bit my lip, but nodded with determination. It would be hard, but I would do it best as I could. I had no time to think of a clever way to slip the message through a guard or speak to Christian in private.

A gentle, wry smile appeared on the priest's lips. " Though Christ thinks nothing of our earthly belongings, I daresay that the court will. You won't be taken seriously or treated with respect unless you find something to wear that will make you the equal of the man you plan to declare a traitor."

Surprised, I glanced down at my dirty, damp clothes. I never ceased to find it funny how mankind continually judged their peers based on something as ridiculous as what covered their bodies. There was more freedom to be found without clothing, it seemed to me. How easy it was to forget that they mattered. But with the store that humans found in clothing, I knew that the pirest was right.

Father Josef rose and helped me out of my small bed. " Follow me. There may be something you could wear," he told me quietly, and turned toward the doorway.

I followed his tall frame through the door mutely, wondering what Father Josef could possibly own that would make me an equal to Lord Balduin. Shortly after walking down the plain hallway, he stopped turned at a door, so unobtrusive and small in entry that I would have bypassed it without a second thought. Removing a dull, rusty key from his pocket, he jiggled into the keyhole and the door creaked open, revealing a narrow spiral staircase. My feet rang out as fresh pain gleefully stabbed me with every step as we made our way up it. I gritted my teeth and leaned against the stair case as best I could, wondering if I could ever get used to it. Could such an excruciating pain ever become numb and every day, or would it be there to remind me of what I had given up every single day of my life?

We at last stopped, and I looked around in interest. The tiny room was as plain and simple as much as the room I had awoken in, if not more so. The only objects that occupied the room were a chest and a small prayer bench placed before a slender window that looked out at the sea.

I walked over to the window and watched the nearly gone sun throw a few last rays on the ocean. Normally I could hear the gentle melody of the sea, but tonight the cackles of the sea witch drowned the gentle keening of the waves. I jumped at the horrible, harsh sound and tore my gaze away, breathing fast. Had it been my imagination? I didn't want to know. Worried and anxious with the knowledge that the ball had already started, I turned back to Father Josef.

He turned a second key in the wooden chest. It reluctantly opened, releasing a musty odor that spread out through the room. I knelt next to him as he extracted the most beautiful dress that I would ever see in the human world.

It was a silk polonaise dress with varying shades of dark sea green. The fitted bodice and long, elegant sleeves had been done by a master seamstress who Catherine would have begged for, and the open overskirt pulled back to reveal a pale, forest green underskirt. Even I, who cared nothing for clothes or knew much about them, could tell that the layers of exquisite green silk and precious stitching made it a dress fit for the queen of Denmark.

Father Josef smiled at my wondrous expression. I trailed my fingers across the smooth material, marveling at the sensation it produced. I wondered how a priest had come upon such a magnificent dress, and why he kept it locked away in a cramped tower.

He reached back into the chest and pulled out a ragged book, a strand of pearls, and oddly enough, a sea shell.

" The pearls will be a nice touch to the dress," he told me simply as he placed them in my hand, a distant expression his face.

I smiled gratefully, hoping that it would ease his mind. I knew that my task wouldn't be easy; Balduin carried a tremendous amount of influence in court. That his word would be discounted over a mute girl who had washed up on shore was slim. But I had to try. Even if Christian doubted me, I knew that Erik never would.

" I would go with you, but I'm afraid that I carry less influence then you, and Balduin would find it all too easy to make insinuations of why I would back your claim," Father Josef said, pausing long enough for me to grasp his meaning. " But should you feel that you need guidance, everything I have to offer can be found in here."

He handed me the small, battered book. Curious, I flipped it open and realized it was the book of stories that the humans always spoke about. About the man who brought light into the world and made a place for humans to go and live eternally after they died. It was a wonderful gift. Smiling, I looked up at Father Josef and in an impulsive moment, hugged him. He drew back in surprise, shaking his head.

" I must get back to the cathedral. The others will begin to wonder where I am. Change in here quickly; I'll tell Pedar to wait at the foot of the stairs," he said after a moment of contemplative silence, rising from the ground.

Instead of leaving, he paused once more and placed the small shell in my hand. It was smooth and soft from the sea, but nothing out of the ordinary.

" I have no use for it, save that I used to find it comforting. Maybe you could find some use for it. Good luck, Hanne," he told me in his gentle voice, and quietly walked out of the room.

I studied the sh ell, wondering what had possessed the priest to hold on to it. But it if had been comforting to him, maybe I would find some kind of solace in it too. Slipping it into my pocket, I pulled the dress over my head. It settled onto my body easily, hugging me in all the right places. Closing the clasp on the pearls, I took a deep breath. Everything in my world would be decided on how the next hour went. I closed my eyes and thought of everything in my life that would give me the courage to succeed. Then, in painful steps, I made my way back down the narrow staircase to where Pedar was waiting.

Author's Note:

I can't believe it's been nearly a year since I last updated! I wish I had a decent excuse, like writer's block or a death or something, but I'm afraid all that I can offer is that I got sidetracked on other projects. Even though I knew exactly what would happen next in this story, school, sports, and a move into a new house had me thinking about other things and killed my inspiration for this particular story. I got caught up in a novel I'm writing, and suddenly I just didn't feel like writing about Pearl and everyone anymore. Luckily, that interest in Mermaid was renewed last weekend for no particular reason at all. I'm so ridiculously close to the end that I'm going to try to crank it all out before Thanksgiving( unless I ignore my other project for awhile and focus on this one). But of course, everyone knows how my " It'll be done by March at the latest!" promise turned out......

Looking at this after 9 months or so, I predict that there'll be 4-5 chapters left, quite possibly less than that...but I don't want to commit to anything. Millions of thank you's to everyone who has reviewed and patiently(or impatiently : ) ) waited for this chapter. Re-reading all the wonderful things people have had to say about my characters and story( or my hideous grammar) made me grin and whip it out for the next chapter.

Til' next time.