"Good morning," Melody greeted the young stranger a few days later while he ate his lunch in bed.

"Melody! Hey!" Tristan responded happily with a mouth full of food, his head still wrapped in bandages. "Man, living here sure is fantastic." Melody giggled at his sloppy eating etiquette. "Did you like the food today?"

"I don't know. I skipped breakfast," she said, sitting on the bed near his feet, she seemed to gaze at him with a blank expression on her face.

"What?" he asked, puzzled, wondering what was on her mind.

"Oh- sorry," she snapped herself out of her trance, "I was just-"

"Very far away it seemed," he laughed.

"I suppose," she said. "Tristan," she still felt a little weird saying his name because of its newness, "Do you want to get out of the castle for a bit today?"

"Sure," he said, eyes beaming brightly "I've been dying to leave this bed. Your mother is no joke."

"What? What does that mean?"

"It means that when she says something, she means it. She doesn't joke around," he explained.

"You can say that again," she rolled her eyes. "Do you want to go for a walk?"

"Uh, yeah! I'm going crazy in this room. It's been 3 days, I think, right?"

"This would be the third day, you were hurt pretty badly." Tristan got up from the bed and stumbled onto his feet a bit before stretching his arms straight up into the air with a loud exaggerated yawn. "There are some clothes here for you, I think," Melody said, walking to the armoire and opening the wooden doors. She picked out a white shirt and navy trousers from the hangers and laid them out on the bed. Melody watched as Tristan immediately took off the cotton pajama shirt he was wearing and began to undo his pants.

"Oh! Wait!" she put her arms out in a nervous panic, "I'll uhm, wait outside while you get naked- I mean, uh changed- dressed!" She covered the side of her face with her hand and headed toward the door.

"Melody?" it was her father's voice. Eric stood a couple feet inside the bedroom.

"Dad!" she felt her heart beating rapidly, "Hi! I uhm, we-" Melody looked back at Tristan a moment and saw that his pants were around his knees and his underwear was fully exposed.

"What's going on in here?" Eric furrowed his brows and took a few more steps into the room.

"He's getting dressed, Dad. We have to go," Melody hurried him, pushing her father toward the door by his arm and then pulling him out into the hall with her.

"Melody!"

"Dad!"

"Why were you in there?"

"I don't know," Melody replied, "I just told him to get dressed."

"Do you have something going on with that boy?"

"What?! Dad, no!"

"You know, you can tell me if you do," Eric said a little more tenderly.

"Stop that. I barely know him," she said quietly between her teeth.

"I'm ready!" Tristan appeared in the door frame with a big smile. He stood an inch or two taller than Eric.

"Hey, those are my boots," Eric said, pointing at Tristan's legs.

"Oh, sorry. Ariel brought them for me yesterday. Do you need them back?"

"Dad, stop it. Tristan, let's go," Melody said, rolling her eyes as she began walking toward the stairs. Eric and Tristan only looked at each other for a few moments, neither of them saying a word. "Tristan!"

"Uh, see you later, Prince Eric," Tristan said a little uncomfortably and joined Melody down the hall.

Eric felt a strange feeling come over him as he watched his only daughter walking around the garden with the strange, young man out the window of the study. He knew that the good-boy routine was an act and figured Tristan must've been up to something.

"Eric? What are you doing?" Ariel asked from the door of the study. She walked over and wrapped her arms around him tightly from behind. "Oh, is that Tristan? And Melody?! Oh, Eric!" Ariel beamed.

"I don't like that kid," Eric crossed his arms at his chest.

"He's a sweet young man," Ariel said, "Have you spoken to him at all? I have a good feeling about him. Do you think he likes Melody?"

"Do you know that he was getting undressed while Melody was in the bedroom with him? Ariel, I don't know this boy."

"Eric, he really is a good person from what I know of him so far. He hasn't said a word about where he's from or his family."

"He's probably a criminal on the run," Eric grumbled, with a grimacing look on his face as he watched his daughter sitting on a concrete bench in the garden next to a complete stranger. "I'll have the general look into this."

"Eric," Ariel whispered. Eric looked down at the beautiful face that popped out around his side. "Kiss me." A grin spread across Eric's face as he uncrossed his arms and wrapped them around Ariel.

"Ugh, gross," Melody said after looking up for a split second and catching her parents kissing in the window above the gardens.

"Oh, man," Tristan smirked, "That's kind of funny."

"They're always all over each other, it's sickening. They know just how to embarrass me."

"Do you think that they're kissing each other to embarrass you?"

"Of course!" Melody exclaimed, "Why else would they be doing it right above us?"

"I don't know. Maybe they're in love?"

"Well, of course they're in love. Haven't they told you the big story yet?"

"What story? No," Tristan looked up again. He found Ariel and Eric's affection for each other sweet and endearing.

"I'll let me my mom tell you someday. Let's get out of here," she groaned. Right as she began to walk away, Ariel noticed that they were caught and waved down at the two. Tristan smiled and waved back and then continued to follow Melody around the castle grounds.

"When do you get those bandages off your head?" Melody asked when reaching the balcony that overlooked the ocean.

"This afternoon, at least that's what the doctor says."

"How are you feeling?"

"Much better. My sides and head are still sore when I move them. Want to see my bruises?" he asked. Melody nodded, although she had caught a glimpse of them earlier that day when he took his shirt off.

"Oh, wow. That looks painful," she said, bringing a hand up to touch the purplish-blue skin down his back and along his ribs.

"Ouch," he winced at her touch.

"Sorry," she told him, "It's quite tender. Does it hurt to walk around?"

"Not really, it hurts to stretch and bend and to sleep sometimes. But it's not unbearable. I've been through worse."

Melody noticed her father looking out the window of the upstairs hallway and she immediately took her hand off Tristan's body.

"You see? They never leave me alone," Melody complained, looking at the ground. Tristan looked up at Eric and smiled as he awkwardly lowered his shirt again. "Let's go," she told him.

"Where?"

"I don't know. Just away."

He followed her down the long concrete steps and past the servant's entrance. He watched from behind as she clumsily collided with a palace guard when looking back to speak to him.

"Princess," the guard said apologetically and bowed his head.

"Andrew! Hi," Melody blurted. Tristan watched as her entire demeanor changed.

"I'm sorry about that," Andrew put a hand on Melody's arm for a moment, which made her feel instantly warm.

"It's my fault, really. And you can call me Melody, I like it better."

"Of course, princ- Melody."

"You know, I've been meaning to say sorry about the other night," Melody started. Andrew looked a bit puzzled. "With Elizabeth and all."

"Oh, yes. No need to apologize. When the king and prince left with the princess, I tried to find you. I don't believe they knew you were there, so your secret is safe with me."

"Ha, oh! Thanks for that, but uhm I kind of got in trouble anyway."

"Oh, oohh, that's right," Andrew said looking at Tristan, "Well, have a good day princess. Sorry, again."

"Melody," she giggled as he walked away, "Uhm, you too! Have a good day! Maybe I'll see you around!"

"Nice," Tristan said from behind her, Andrew was now out of earshot.

"Uggh!" Melody groaned, "I sounded like such an idiot. I always do that!"

Tristan grabbed both of her arms from behind and shook her playfully, "Come on, you were fine."

"I ruined that. He's so handsome, isn't he?" she looked up into the sky and grinned foolishly.

"I- don't know?" Tristan scratched his head and turned back to look at Andrew walking away, "I guess he's manly?"

"So manly," Melody giggled, "Hey Tristan, do you like to ride?"

"Ride?"

"Yes."

"Ride what? A whale?"

"What? No, a horse, silly," she nudged his arm. "We can go to the stable and I'll show you my horse. You probably shouldn't ride yet until you're better. I'm grounded from riding for the next two days." Melody walked him to the stable to introduced him to her horses.

"This is Cleopatra, Antony and Julius Caesar," she said as she pointed down a row.

"Wow, such weird names. How did you come up with that?"

"Are you being serious?" she asked, dumbfounded. His blank expression told her he was. "Have you ever heard of Cleopatra, the Egyptian princess?"

"No. I know Egypt," he said proudly with a smirk.

"Oh, boy, maybe I'll tell you about it one day," she said as she walked along, stopping at a white horse with a yellow mane. "This here is my beautiful girl, Ocean."

"Ocean?"

"Yeah. I named her when I was five," she told him. Melody began petting the horse's nose and then picked up a brush and began to brush her long mane. "Such a pretty girl. Sorry, I can't ride you."

"That's ok, Melody, who is your friend?" the horse asked, "He's very cute."

"I'm Tristan," Tristan extended a hand and then withdrew it with a laugh.

"Wait, you can't understand her, can you?"

"Huh? What? No," Tristan said, "It's a horse. I can't speak to horses. Can you?"

"No," Melody lied. She slowly put down the brush and placed a hand on the horse's side. "We'll be riding off together soon, girl." She then looked at Tristan nervously and continued past him. "Isn't the doctor coming soon to take your bandages off?"

"I think so."

"Let's go back inside to make sure you don't miss him."

"Melody, you have to know that you're the most important person to me," Ariel said over dinner that evening in the dining hall. "Everything I do, it's for your own well being. I want to make sure you have everything you need to do what you truly want." Ariel put her fork down and glared at Melody. "Melody? Melody, are you listening to me?"

"Melody, respond to your mother," Eric said sternly from the head of the table.

"What, dad?" she complained, "She's told me this a hundred times. What can I even say?"

"Melody!" Eric and Ariel scolded in unison.

"What?!"

Suddenly there were footsteps echoing in the dining hall coming from the main entrance instead of the servant's entrance, which made them all turn to look. Ariel squinted her eyes a moment and so did Eric. Melody's mouth hung open.

"Who is that?" Eric whispered to himself as the slow footsteps grew more near.

"Wow," Melody said in amazement, "Your hair!"

"Tristan?" Ariel wondered before opening her eyes wide in surprise.

"Sorry, I'm late. I couldn't find this room," Tristan said apologetically before taking a seat next to Melody. He looked down at his lap as he placed a napkin cross it and then straightened his posture. He soon noticed that everyone at the dinner table was staring at him. "What? Someone told me this is what you're supposed to do with your napkin. Is that wrong?" Melody chuckled while Ariel's face was still stunned.

"Tristan, your hair!" Melody repeated.

"What? Oh yeah, I need a haircut," he said, placing a strand of hair behind his ear.

"It's red!"

"Oh! Didn't you know that?" he asked Melody.

"No, you had a blue hat on that night."

"That's right. And then the bandages."

His red hair was thick, full and side swept over his eyes a bit in the front, the back was as long as the base of his neck. Everyone noticed that he was a much more attractive young man with his dashing red hair, his strong facial and jaw structure and his bright blue eyes. He did have a charming, softness about his smile that made him even more pleasant to look at.

"It looks really nice," Ariel said calmly, amazed at how good-looking he really was underneath the bandages. There was a ruggedness about him that Ariel admired.

"You really could use a haircut," Eric mumbled and Ariel kicked him under the table.

"I guess it is better than your mummy look," Melody joked and laughed.

"I don't know what that is, but I'll assume both versions of me are incredibly handsome," he joked proudly. Ariel and Melody both laughed.

"Where is John?" Eric asked.

"Oh, he wanted to have dinner in his room in private. He's finishing up a book," Ariel explained.

"Melody, maybe you can go talk to him for a little while. I've barely seen you talk to him since he's been here," Eric suggested.

"I talk to him," Melody said, "Just not often. He's always locked away somewhere."

"Just give it a shot. He might surprise you," he continued.

"He's just so weird," Melody mumbled.

"Melody!" Ariel whispered, looking around as if John were to come out of the shadows at any moment.

"Who is this?" Tristan asked. Eric rolled his eyes and sighed.

"Prince John is our nephew and Melody's cousin, son of the king," Ariel explained kindly. Eric noticed that Ariel's stares toward the young man began to linger.

"Mom," Melody said, "Tristan wants to go riding tomorrow."

"Is that so? Tristan, are you sure you're well enough to ride?"

"We can go slowly," Melody interjected.

"Melody- you're grounded," Ariel reminded her.

"Of course you'd say that," Melody mumbled rudely.

"You did a very dangerous thing that night," Ariel began again.

"Alright, shut up!"

"Melody, leave this instant!" Eric yelled at her sharply, pounding a fist on the table.

"Whatever, fine!" Melody screamed and rose from her chair, letting it screech across the floor before running out the door.

"Uh, I'll go talk to her," Tristan stood to his feet.

"No! You're not her father, I'll go," Eric barked at him. He left the dining hall, but didn't go after Melody immediately. He felt he needed to cool off a bit before speaking with her.

Ariel lowered her head into her hands and began to sob quietly. Tristan immediately walked around the table and over to where she sat. He placed a hand on her back and began to rub it gently.

"Please, don't cry, Ariel," he told her.

"I'm so sorry. This is embarrassing. I just want what's best for her and I'm always the villain. I try so hard to be patient and understanding and oh- I don't know," she continued to cry. Tristan pulled Eric's chair from where it stood and dragged it across the floor closer to Ariel. He sat down beside her as close as he could get the chair and wrapped an arm around her, he began rubbing her from her shoulder to her elbow.

"It's ok," he told her several times, not knowing what else to say, "Don't you cry." He put his other hand in front of her and took her by the hand, wrapped around her as close as he could be. Ariel leaned her head on his shoulder and cried even harder before she began to settle down again, sniffling against his shirt. "You're a great person," he told her. Ariel suddenly stopped crying and turned her head toward him. He looked back at her, their noses less than a few inches away from one another. She looked into his caring blue eyes and found comfort in them. He seemed just as dazed as she as they looked at each other, her face and red eyes wet with tears. He parted his mouth as if to speak and Ariel did the same.

"Who are you?" she asked him, puzzled and completely engulfed in him. Tristan felt suddenly uncomfortable and didn't know what to say.

"Ariel!" Eric said loudly from the door. Ariel and Tristan looked in his direction quickly and Tristan immediately released Ariel from his hold. "What were you doing to my wife?" he asked Tristan with his finger pointed straight across the room.

"Eric, stop that!" Ariel shouted.

"I'm going to go- get some fresh air," Tristan said nervously and darted out of the dining room.

Tristan made his way outside to the balcony area that overlooked the water. He put a foot up on the ledge and leaned into his thigh. He took a deep breath in and exhaled, loving the feeling of the ocean breeze blowing through his hair.

"Soon," he said aloud.

"What's soon?" a voice said from beside him. He hadn't noticed a young man sitting on a nearby concrete bench with a book in his hand.

"Nothing, really. Just aching to go for a swim," Tristan said.

"Ah," said the voice as he stepped out of the shadows. Tristan hadn't yet met him, but the book in his hand gave Tristan a feeling that it was John, the King's son. He thought about bowing or acknowledging him as the prince somehow but decided against it. John looked at him carefully, as if analyzing something. "I prefer to stay on dry land," John said.

"On land you can only do so much," Tristan told him, "You should really give the ocean another look." John grinned to himself.

"Many things deserve another look," John said, standing up straight next to Tristan with his hands resting at the base of his back.

"You mean land?"

"Anything," John said simply.

"Yourself?" Tristan asked.

"Why not?" John smirked. "Take yourself for example. I would guess, a couple years shy of twenty years old, terrible posture, strong frame with lean musculature- possibly from a poor diet. Common speech, no formal education- in fact, I'd say no education at all. You either ran away from your parents as a young boy or perhaps have never even known your parents, which explains your longing for feeling at home and your latching on to the castle and aunt Ariel for as long as you can. Melody would be the safest and easiest way in. All you have to do is flash that smile of yours at her and call her beautiful and the castle is yours. "

"Are you writing a book on me or what?" Tristan said dryly. John smiled to himself again. "You must know a lot about families."

"Oh, I'd love to hear this," John mocked him.

"Pampered palace prince. Grew up with every luxury in the world. Has had lessons from the finest professors and scientists and philosophers, has read countless books but has never learned how to be human enough to acknowledge his fellow man as a person. You've been told since birth how special you are, how you're destined to rule the entire kingdom- with or without your consent. You're forced to live in the footsteps of your father and his father before that, but you never feel as if you'll measure up. You feel trapped, suffocated- like a prisoner in your own palace, in your own mind, in your own thoughts. It's easy for you to point out the flaws of others because it's a distraction from your own inadequacies. Inside you're a sad, little boy, alone, scared and completely lost. You can have any woman you want, you can be out having a good time at a tavern or having the women brought to you as many and as often as you'd please. But instead you're here, on the balcony, with a book and a glass of whiskey- your third or fourth? Are you more or less of an alcoholic than your father? Or would you say a different kind of alcoholic? This only leads me to the conclusion that your pleasure rod is small or doesn't quite function," Tristan shrugged his shoulders as if dismissing John's presence.

"Oh," John laughed smugly, "I will assure you that it's quite large and fully functioning."

"That makes two of us," Tristan added, with a chuckle.

"You can drink to that," John said, bending over and grabbing his glass of whiskey off the ground, before handing it to Tristan. "Go ahead, polish it off." Tristan took the drink and threw his head back as he drank. It went down his chest like a brick and he immediately exhaled roughly with a wince.

"I can see why Melody and Ariel like you," John said, a little less tense.

"Eric hates me," Tristan said.

"Yes, that's not a common thing for Uncle Eric. You must've really done something."

"I didn't do anything!" Tristan exclaimed.

"Then do more," John told him, taking the glass from Tristan's hand. "Would you like some more?"

"No, thanks," Tristan shook his head, feeling the urge to puke at the thought of it.

"I envy you," John blurted suddenly. Tristan noticed that John's stance was suddenly not as still.

"Me? No way."

"When you speak, people listen to you. And if they don't- who cares? You're nobody."

"Why, thanks!" Tristan said sarcastically.

"My words don't matter, so why bother saying anything?" John looked as if he would cry, but he didn't. He wobbled on his feet a little, swaying too closely to the edge.

"Don't say that," Tristan told him stepping in more closely, "I'm sure there is more importance in your thoughts and feelings than you may feel there is."

"I'm a prisoner, like you said," John shook his head and began to slowly drop to the ground.

"Woah! Ok, easy," Tristan said, extending his arms and breaking John's fall. Keeping John from falling, physically hurt Tristan to do. He winced in pain, struggling to lift him all the way up because of the bruises on his sides. "Come on, prince, stand up," Tristan said to him, hoping he'd be able to walk a bit on his own with Tristan's help.

"What's going on?" Eric called out from the entrance to the palace before rushing over to the young men.

"He's drunk," Tristan told him. Eric took a hold of John's other side underneath his arm and helped Tristan lift him to his feet.

"Grab his feet," Eric told Tristan and Tristan followed orders quickly, lifting John's feet and helping Eric carry him inside and up the stairs to John's bedroom. "I've got it from here," Eric said tersely, dismissing Tristan away.

Tristan walked back into his room and realized there was something not quite right.

"Hi, Mel," he said before turning around to face her.

"'Tristan, my room tonight? Green door. Love, Helena.' Helena, huh? I didn't think she was so forward," Melody mocked the note on Tristan's desk.

"Did you apologize to your mother?"

"Don't you have somewhere to be tonight? Late night romance with the help?" Melody waved the note around in the air as Tristan removed his shirt in front of her.

"I'm not the one in love with a guard. Besides, that note is from last night," Tristan lied with a smirk, "You should go apologize to your mother."

"But she-"

"We are done speaking until you apologize," he said more firmly.

"Tris-"

"Goodnight."

"You can't tell me what to-"

"Goodnight!" He opened the door to his bedroom for her to leave.

"Fine," Melody walked out of the room and Tristan shut the door behind her.

He walked over to his desk and picked up the note from Helena with a smile. He thought back on that morning when he was just waking up and his erection was so hard he could barely think.

"Good morning. I'm here for linens," Helena had said to him, in her leggy maid uniform and her long blonde hair in a braid down her back. She nearly gasped when seeing his member wanting to protrude from the bedsheet. Tristan looked down at it also, normally he would've been embarrassed but something about her reaction excited him.

"What can I do? You're very attractive," he told her unapologetically. She smiled, rushed to the door and closed it.

The thoughts of that morning got him aroused. He looked at himself in the mirror and noticed that the bruises on his body were looking better than they had a couple days prior. He thought of John and all of the issues that he might be going through. He was curious about John, he didn't want to dismiss their interaction. From what he saw, he didn't think that John interacted with very many people. He changed into a fresh set of sleep clothes and rested in bed for a little while. Melody came through his mind and how sweet and sour she could be, then he thought of Ariel. He thought of Ariel often and he wasn't sure why. He wondered how she must feel and also wondered how she felt about him. He wondered how much she and Eric loved each other and whether or not they were happy together. He wondered if he would ever fall in love with someone as kind and caring as Ariel as he dozed off to sleep.

When he woke up, it was half past midnight and he remembered the note on his desk. He jumped out of bed and made his way down the stairs and to the servant's corridor. He began to walk slowly as he approached the bedrooms, looking for the one green door.

"I thought you decided not to come," Helena said sleepily. It looked like she had fallen asleep on her side completely naked while waiting up for him. Her breasts were modest and firm with small, dark tan nipples.

"I'm collecting your soiled linens," Tristan told her as he removed his shirt.

"I don't have any here," she said coyly, rolling onto her belly in bed as she looked back at him, her round buttocks sticking up in the air.

"You will soon," he said pulling down his pants and exposing himself to her.

"Just checked up on John, he'll be fine. He just had a little too much to drink," Eric said to Ariel as he joined her in her bed.

"I know," she told him bashfully.

"What do you mean you know?" Eric asked. Ariel reached under her pillow and pulled out a small, handheld mirror that was embellished with jewels and intricate patterns. "Ariel, how did you get that?!"

"Belle left it," Ariel said.

"Did she really?"

"Well, I borrowed it and forgot to give it back to her before she left."

"Ariel," Eric scolded, with a stern expression on his face. Ariel smirked devilishly, hoping it would soften his mood.

"Don't you want to use it?"

"No, I want nothing to do with that."

"Come on, Eric. Don't you want to see what someone is up to, this late at night," she waved it in front of him.

"Melody is probably in her room- asleep."

"But how can you know for sure?" Ariel handed him the mirror. Eric looked at the mirror and hesitantly took it from her hand.

"Just tell it what you want to see," she told him. Eric looked at her disapprovingly and then at the mirror.

"Uh- show me Melody." The mirror began to glow and then flashed a bright light that made him squint his eyes. Ariel leaned in to get a closer look in bed. It was Melody, in her room with her hair down her back and over her shoulders. She was sitting at her window gazing out into the late-night sky with her legs curled up into her body. She looked sad for a moment, but then slowly began to smile to herself. Eric put his hand up to the mirror and lightly touched it. He missed his good, sweet and kind little girl. His little girl who usually did as she was told and who used to think that he was the greatest person in the world. "See? She's just in her room," Eric said after a while.

"Look at her, smiling to herself like that," Ariel pointed out.

"She's surprisingly happy despite all of the issues we had this evening."

"Eric, don't you know anything? She's in love."

"What? Love? No. That's not even possible," Eric shook his head and faced the mirror down on his lap.

"After I saw you for the first time, I had that same look on my face for a long time."

"But, Ariel, Melody? In love?! With who?" Eric looked puzzled. Ariel looked at him with a raised eyebrow and pursed her lips. "No."

"Yes," Ariel nodded, "Tristan is such a sweet, young man."

"Yes, of course you think that."

"What?"

"I see the way you look at him," Eric said, annoyed.

"Me?!"

"Yes, you! It seems like you're the one in love. 'Oh, Tristan, let me get that for you. Tristan, your hair is so great,'" Eric mocked her,

"Stop that!" Ariel giggled, slapping him on the arm playfully. "Eric, you must know that no man on this earth has nicer hair than you." She ran her fingers through his hair softly. "I care for him because he's a nice young man who did a very brave thing and saved our daughter and those crabs."

"Sure," Eric scoffed.

"You silly man. Let's see what Tristan is up to," Ariel said excitedly.

"He's probably in the vault stealing all of our best jewels."

"Eric! Don't be mean!" she nudged him, taking the mirror from his lap and holding it up to her face. "Show me Tristan." While the mirror began to shine, Ariel used the opportunity to sneak a quick kiss onto Eric's lips.

"Why don't you go kiss Tristan?" Eric jeered, before smiling and kissing her again. Ariel pulled away and rolled her eyes before looking into the mirror. She gasped suddenly.

"Oh, dear," her eyes grew wide.

"What?" Eric asked curiously and leaned in to see. It was Tristan, standing over a dresser, thrusting himself in and out of a lean girl with long blonde hair. They watched in silence as he dug his fingers into her hips, slapping his body against her hard. He then turned her around and lifted her onto the dresser, sitting her on it and she instinctively spread her legs apart. She raised a hand up to his neck and held onto him while he held her legs up by her thighs. Eric subconsciously adjusted himself beneath the sheets while Ariel felt her own private parts throb and moisten as they watched.

"Maybe we shouldn't be watching this," Eric said quietly, swallowing hard.

"When was the last time we played with her?" Ariel asked Eric. Eric shrugged.

"I'm not sure, a few months maybe."

"Remember how she used to squeal?" Ariel asked, "I wish I could hear from this thing."

"Ariel," Eric plopped his head down against the pillow, "Put that away. Let's go to bed."

"Just a little while longer," Ariel said softly, fixed on the sight of the love making in the mirror. Ariel tightened and released her own vaginal lips, feeling its lubrication seeping out of her as she watched. "Oh, wow," Ariel gasped.

"What, what are they doing?" Eric asked eagerly. Ariel gave him a view of the mirror and Eric watched as Helena's leg went straight up in the air and high above her head. "She never did that with us."

"No, she didn't do that either," she commented, watching Helena's leg bend behind her head like a contortionist.

"Wow," Eric stared in amazement, "She was holding back." Ariel giggled. She secretly wished she were there, watching them. She felt confused about her feelings toward Tristan, she cared a lot about him and found him to be a very attractive young man who was tall and built with a great body. "Put it away, Ariel," Eric told her. Ariel continued to watch.

"He's tasting her now."

"Put it away!" he said more sternly. Ariel slowly turned the mirror over and placed it on her nightstand. She got under the sheets with Eric and snuggled her body into his warm and inviting one. "I'm going to hide that thing from you in the morning. It can be dangerous to pry into people's personal privacy like that," he told her.

"Poor Melody," Ariel said, thinking about how heartbroken Melody would be if she knew.

"He's just a man. It's what men do."

"You mean, make love with any woman who allows you to?"

"Well, yes," he chuckled, "Unless we're married of course."

"I really thought they could be together," Ariel said regrettably.

"It doesn't mean they can't be together. It also doesn't mean he doesn't have feelings for her. It's just what men do," Eric explained.

"I wish men would wait- like women do. Well, some women."

"Some men wait."

"You didn't," Ariel retorted. She smiled feeling his strong arms wrapped around her body. "When was the first time you made love?"

"Our wedding night, with you," he said softly in her ear, "There is a difference, you know."