Chapter 7

Early the next morning, the two members of the Gilld family present and Rose took their leave of the King and castle. It wasn't as early as Joshua would have liked, but he knew his daughter would balk at being forced to leave before daylight. So it was about two hours after dawn when the three of them set out. Rose was particularly upset that Prince Henry wasn't awake so that she could say good bye, but Joshua, after hearing his niece refer to the Prince as Harry, could not have been more pleased.

The girls, after being lavished with more gifts than they needed, descended to the carriage while Joshua was still bidding his liege lord farewell.

"You know," said the King cheerfully as Joshua made his last bow and was about to follow his child and niece, "This war of affection may be the only battle that will be easier to win on someone else's turf than my own."

Joshua whirled around, his eyes narrowed in distaste. "What do you mean by that?" he hissed, barely disguised loathing in his voice.

"You'll just have to find out, won't you?" the King replied with only a hint of triumph in his voice. "I'll see you in a fortnight."

Joshua stalked off, muttering "bastard" just loudly enough that the King would hear him but not quite loud enough that the man could call him on it.

He stomped into the carriage, rocking it far more than was necessary as he slumped into his seat. "You look pleased," Diana observed dryly, wondering just what had gone wrong with their exit; she could not have fathomed a way that would have suited her father more. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he answered grumpily, crossing one leg over the other and resting his chin on his hands. "Absolutely nothing."

"Now why don't I believe him?" Diana murmured to her cousin.

"Perhaps because he's a terrible liar?"

They both laughed and Joshua groaned, realizing he had a week's worth of this ahead of him. He stuck his head out the window, letting the breeze whip through his hair and block out the noise of two girls gossiping about a certain royal Joshua couldn't help but dislike.

The entire trip home progressed in much the same way; the girls thought that it was far too short and Joshua was convinced that if he had to endure another second of it, he would have lost his mind. The only moment he truly enjoyed was when they stopped one afternoon at a very old friend of Joshua's who had long been expecting him and who owed him a favor. But, other than that hour, it was a very long ride.

Lizzie sighed as she entered the library, her sanctum sanctorum, and found her youngest son in tears and quite a few precious volumes thrown all over the floor.

"Anthony?" she said, her voice low and dangerous. "What is the meaning of this?" She knew full well what he had been trying to do, but was curious whether he would admit it.

"I…I wanted to read too!" he whimpered, drying his eyes on his sleeve. Lizzie rolled her eyes and reached down to pick him up.

"Anthony, you're too little to read these books," she said gently to him. "When you're older you can."

He kept crying. "But I want to n..n…now!"

"Yes, well, we can work on your books upstairs," Lizzie pointed out to him. There were any number of primers upstairs for him to learn his letters from and, brilliant child that he was, he could already recognize some very simple words.

"But they're boring!" he protested, still sniffling. She couldn't argue with that.

"Just be patient," she told him. "And try not to go for the really expensive books next time." He looked at her, rather uncomprehendingly. "Come on. I have to go up and check the mirror in case any disasters have surfaced that must be dealt with before your father comes home in two days."

"Two more days?" he asked excitedly.

"Yes, little one, only two more days." Anthony laughed happily at the prospect of seeing his father again soon and Lizzie smiled as well, anxious for the return of the man she loved.

They trooped up the stairs, Anthony clutching his mother's hand, and entered into Joshua's workroom; a place so safe that Anthony could not even enter without one of his parents to accompany him. Diana had only recently been granted access on her own and so it was always exciting for one of the Gilld children to be taken in there.

Lizzie retrieved the mirror from it's habitual place in the middle drawer of the desk, refusing to let go of her son's hand in case he accidentally send the entire castle up in flames because he "just wanted to see something". Jonathan had nearly done that once, when he had been two, and neither Gilld parent had ever really recovered from the scare. Paranoia was not such a bad thing when dealing with young children.

"Come and sit on my lap," Lizzie said tenderly. Anthony climbed up and stared eagerly at the mirror, which only showed him his own reflection. His face fell.

"Where's the magic?" he asked plaintively.

"Wait a minute," Lizzie said, laughingly. She then turned to the mirror and decided that before she went to check on any impending doom, she could spare a few moments to stare at her husband. "Anthony, would you like to see Papa?" He nodded gleefully. "So tell the mirror that, okay?"

"I wanna see Papa," he said clearly and the mirror obeyed. The surface rippled and the colors swirled, reappearing again in the image of a man, about forty years old with a tired grin on his face as he gazed out the window of a carriage and daydreamed.

"Hi Papa!" Anthony yelled excitedly and Joshua, to Lizzie's utter shock waved up at them. He winked and mouthed words at them. Lizzie, looking carefully, was able to discern the words 'I love you'.

"Is he using magic?" Anthony asked.

"Of course," Lizzie replied. She blew her husband a kiss, just in case he would able to tell what they were doing, though she presumed he was merely using a spell to detect when someone was using the mirror to look in on him and would not actually be able to sense their responses. Then Lizzie spoke to the mirror again. "Mirror, are there any magical messages for my husband?"

The colors whirled around once again and coalesced into one word. "Anthony, what does that say?" she asked her son.

"Yi…es… yes!"

"Well done!" she said ruffling his hair, though she was suppressing a groan. She had forgotten how literal the mirror could be. "May I see them?" she queried. The next image the glass showed her was that of a page covered in writing and was very interesting indeed.

Anduin was going mad. It had been five days since he had rescued the beautiful girl and he simply couldn't get her out of head. It had been easy to return home and pretend he had never left; it had been a long time since he had been responsible enough to be found at a moment's notice and he had gotten off with nothing more than a light reprimand from his father, who was too busy running his own life to take an interest in his youngest son's. Anduin had spent the next few days doing anything he could think of to erase the image of the beautiful girl from his mind. None of his ideas had worked, not even visiting his usual haunts had any effect on him. The girls there simply could not hold a glowfish to her.

"There's no hope for it," he murmured softly as yet another one of his six older sisters gave him a queer look. He had been questioned seven times already as to who he adored this time and whether he thought it would last longer than a week. "I have to see her again." And get away from my family, he added. A sudden idea crossed his mind. He had heard the legends to be sure, but they weren't really true…were they?

Long ago, a young mermaid had disappeared and the myth had it that she had turned herself into a human and gone to live with her lover above the surface. It was simply a fairy tale told to amuse the little ones, but no one in their right mind really believed it. But there were fairly specific directions as to how to reach the dark enchantress of the depths and Anduin figured that if it was merely a joke, he would have only wasted a few hours and it wasn't as if he had any better to do than follow any available path to woman of his dreams. He winced and wondered when he had become so pathetic.

His plans to leave swiftly were foiled, however, by an odd visitation. His mother finally came to see him; rumors of his strange behavior had obviously gotten back to her.

"Anduin, are you alright?" she asked softly, laying a gentle hand on her son's shoulder.

"I'm fine," he answered irritably. "I was just leaving."

"Are you off to see your latest conquest?"

Anduin grinned. "Yes, in fact, I am." His grin widened with a very evil thought. "If you follow me, you can find out where she lives." And he swam out the door, quite pleased with the expression on his mother's face. He knew that, on one hand, she would do anything to try and find out who it was that he was after this time, yet she hated nothing more than being discovered and any spying she did today would be with his full knowledge. So she would undoubtedly wait a few days and that worked perfectly well for Anduin, he didn't plan to be around any longer than this afternoon.

Hours later, the young merman finally found himself at the rift in the ocean floor. He glanced down in distaste. Every well bred bone in his body told him not to go down there and every single one of his heartstrings insisted that he did. Never one to follow the dictates of reason, Anduin entered the trench.

It was truly a dark and dismal place, the perfect home for a fairy tale monster. And from the tales told of this one, Anduin figured he had better be frightened. She was half mermaid, half kraken and utterly terrifying. He knew he would have to bargain away some valuable possession, but he didn't really care. He kind of hoped he could bargain away his place in line for the throne, for he was next after Tritan's sickly son and wanted nothing more than to get rid of that. All things considered, this idea fit into his general life plan very well.

The trench deepened and Anduin followed it. As he went down, he forced himself to accept the very real possibility that it was just a fairy tale. Admittedly, he had never really thought it could be more than that, but it was still a little disheartening to have such hopes on this magic coming true and now, after all his efforts, to have nothing happen. And he would have to explain things to his mother. The merman shuddered, and not just from the cold.

An eerie green light shown out of one of the crevices in the wall and Anduin's heart began to beat faster from anxious anticipation. He swum faster, wanting to get this ordeal over with.

"Come in," called a deep female voice from within the cave. "Come in my child. We mustn't lurk in doorways."

"So I was taught," Anduin replied, entering the strange cave. Glowing algae decorated the interior in strange, mystical whorls that Anduin assumed were magical in their nature and didn't bother to question.

"Now, if I am correct, and I always am, you are here about a young lady you have discovered recently. A very special young lady, I might add. And you're smitten with her. Well, you have good taste, I'll grant you that. But your tail may give you a little trouble in trying to win her heart. Though that's why you came to me, isn't it?"

Anduin grinned. "You are quite good," he said, unable to help liking her. True, the legend painted her as an evil soul stealer, but she spoke easily and with a sense of humor he found that most others lacked. "So can you help me?"

"For a price, dearie, I can do anything for a price."

"And yours is...? I don't do 'favors', so that's out."

The witch laughed delightedly. "Oh, it's nice to see someone with spirit down here, all I usually get are pathetic weeping girlies. And while your not-offer is tempting, I know better than to push my limits. I have a set contract for this; you get legs and I get your voice."

"Why would you want my voice?" Anduin muttered. "I understand why you wanted Princess Ariel's, but I don't sing all that well and, even if I did, it would sound very stupid coming from your throat."

The witch laughed. "Brave words and you dared to mention that little twit around me. You are really very courageous…or perhaps very stupid."

"The latter," Anduin told her with an ill concealed grin.

"Yes, I think you're right. But I have my own reasons, as I'm sure you'll find out. So do we have a deal?"

"How long do I have?" Anduin asked, his heart beginning to pound against his rib cage as he realized that this bargain wasn't hypothetical anymore.

"Until your beloved marries another," the witch answered. "None of this silly three day thing; no one can fall in love that quickly." Anduin refrained from commenting. "And you'll have to get used to your legs; there's really not much I can do to help you there."

"What happens if she marries another?" Anduin asked, swallowing nervously.

"Then you explode."

"What?" Anduin exclaimed, but the witch couldn't answer; she was doubled over in laughter.

"I was kidding, you stupid boy," she said when she had finally regained her breath, so to speak. "If she marries another, you lose your legs once again and belong to me."

"In what sense?"

"Every sense there is," she answered, grinning and showing unnaturally bright teeth.

'Oh well,' thought Anduin. 'This just means I can't fail.' He grinned in reply. "Very well, we have a deal."

They shook hands and, as their hands met, Anduin screamed. He felt as if someone was sucking his voice from his throat, through his veins and into the witch via their handshake. It was so agonizing; it almost served to distract him from the terrible pain in his tail, which was the sensation of someone taking a blunt knife and methodically sawing his fins in twain. He shrieked like a banshee before everything suddenly went silent. His voice was gone, disappearing into the witch's body. At that moment, the splitting of his legs had been completed and he found himself choking on the water that had, up until a few seconds before, been his life force. He clawed his way up, trying desperately to reach the surface so that he could breath. His legs ached from the transformation, but nonetheless, they kicked as hard they could for he knew that if he did not reach the surface soon, he would die.

There were no thoughts involved in his anguished struggle for survival; no higher mental function that allowed him to reach safety. It was pure luck that Anduin managed to get his hands caught in a net that had been cast into the water to catch the fish. As the fishermen hauled up a strangely heavy load, they were shocked to discover the body of a young man entangled in their net. They were even more surprised when, after they had laid the poor lad out on the deck, he began to cough up copious amounts of sea water in an attempt to start breathing.

Anduin finally caught his breath, feeling incredibly ill and exhausted. He stared down at himself. He had legs, real legs. He wanted to get up and shout for joy, but as he quickly discovered, his voice was well and truly gone and his legs…let's just say that walking any time soon would be a challenge. He fell over the first few times he tried to stand up until one of the sailors came over and gave him a hand. He clutched gratefully at the man's arm as he was led to a small cabin and bid to rest. He nodded his head as a way of saying thanks, then promptly dropped off to sleep, drained of all energy from his ordeal.

In the meantime, the sailors on board the ship were holding a heated debate as to what should be done with their new passenger. It had become clear that he could not or would not speak and so it was impossible to discern from whence he came or, more importantly, how to return him there. Finally, one of the men suggested that they use the magical log book; a special gift from Duke Gilld that would allow them to write out their plight for him to read and help them. His Grace had provided every vessel and every town with some way of reaching him in case of emergencies and any pranksters had learned very quickly that using it was not a joke.

So the one of them who could write sat down before the book and, in a shaky hand, detailed their predicament. And, but two hours later, the Duchess sat down and read out the story of the strange man to her young son.

"Is he a merman?" Anthony asked, remembering the latest fairy tale his mother had told. He had loved it and it had been his bedtime story for the last ten or so nights.

Lizzie laughed. "I doubt he is," she answered. "But he seems to be noble, or so our contact says. And we must find some way to return him to his proper home. I shall tell our good sailors to send him up to the castle. What's one more guest, more or less?" She realized she was soliloquizing, but it amused her and so she kept speaking aloud, ignoring puzzled looks from her three-year-old. "Besides, if he is noble, then someone on this side of the channel will recognize him. Since they will all be at our house, it seems the easiest way. And if he turns out to be some rogue or peasant slave, then I'm sure he can be put to work somewhere. The household is certainly big enough. That settles it."

Rising to her feet, Lizzie lifted up a strange looking orb from Joshua's desk. She held it before her and passed her left hand over it, muttering a spell. A miniature version of the ship appeared inside of it.

"Sailors," Lizzie said, her voice clear and commanding. "I am the Duchess Gilld and, in my husband's name, I ask that you send the man you have recovered to my castle so that we may dispose of him as we see fit. Any expenses you encounter in fulfilling my request will be recompensed to you on your arrival at our home. Thank you."

She smiled and went to go and entertain her youngest son. They found themselves outside in the rose garden where Anthony played with one of the palace cats and Lizzie sat under a tree, trying to keep from falling asleep for the magic she had performed had been quite tiring. Neither of them realized the import of what had just happened, but it wouldn't be long before they would.

T.B.C.

A/N – And another chapter is completed. I know this took a while to get out; I had been leaving on a jet plane and then I had to get a new computer (yay for pretty new laptops). But once I got the machine home, I just had to use it.

So anyway, I got back to the main-ish plot here with more little merman stuff. Things will come together soon and I only hope everyone does what they're supposed to for a change. The line about a rogue or peasant slave is borrowed from Hamlet "Oh, what a rogue and peasant slave I am", it's just a great line and I couldn't help myself.

On to the reviewers, who I adore, as you all know.

Short stef – I'm sorry, would you prefer I updated slower? I could arrange it… just kidding! Be grateful while this lasts, once July starts, so does my summer job. Anyway, you're right about things only being calm a little while longer and you know me too well, which is kinda sad since you've never even met me. Oh well. I'm glad you like my ideas, I do too sometimes. And thanks for the well wishes; I think I've recovered ( I hope I've recovered).

Soofija – Good, glad you weren't in danger of dying. Yeah, I'm sorry about the boring bits, they have to happen, but thanks for saying that they were still worth reading, it really means a lot to me. And it's true, I seem to get all my ideas at eleven at night and then have to keep writing until three. Go figure.

Anarea Rose – Thank you! I love the song too and it just fit so well. And Diana can be a lot like Lizzie – stubborn, intractable, loveable nonetheless. Now all she needs is a man like her father. I need one like Joshua too, come to think of it.

Lesalanna – Aww, thank you. I'm sorry about the lack of clarity in ROAB, if I ever get around to editing that, I'll try and make it clearer. And you'll see how things work out, but don't worry, all will be resolved in the end. And I'll also try and fix the mushed together words; they are really irritating and I shouldn't have let them get in like that, so thank you. And I'm really glad you liked it. You make me feel all happy inside so this chapter can be dedicated to you, as a new and wonderful reviewer.

Well, that's all for this round. More soon, if I can handle it and this warning is going to go up on the next two or so chapters. I am starting a summer job soon and will not have good internet access or a lot of time to write, so expect a serious slowdown until the end of august. I'm really sorry, but needs must and all that. If you want to pay me to write fanfic, I'll consider leaving it, but I have a feeling none of you are that desperate. I love you all so, until next time,

Levana (Damian)