The morning brought rain. Hard, driving shards that woke Eric and sent him to the back of the caves in search of shelter in the dwindling hours before sunrise. Despite the change in weather, though, he remained in high spirits, for the soft pressure of Ariel's lips against his own lingered still.

It was a new feeling for him, that of being in love. The warmth of his heart when he was near her, when he was with her, experiencing new things and watching her eyes sparkle with zeal as she did the same. It made him smile just thinking about it. He recalled their first meeting to memory, his infatuation with her zest for life. Had he known then where their friendship would lead? Perhaps not, for the very idea of friendship had been all but foreign to him. Ariel thanked him endlessly for what he taught her, but she had returned the favour. He had learned so much about himself through her, about what it meant to share your life with another. Maternal love he recognised, or thought he did—in his darkest moments he was beginning to doubt it—but the connection he had formed with Ariel was new, his heart felt full at last.

The clouds lightened. A peachy hue signalled the dawn of a new day, confirmed by the tight seizing of Eric's leg muscles. It was an unwelcome change, for it reminded him of the impossibility of his leading a normal life. He had given Ariel his heart, but how could he expect her to keep it? She deserved somebody who would always be there for her; he couldn't.

Ahead of him, rising like the dawn from his imagination, Eric saw two versions of the same future. His future. The first was pure fantasy, he and Ariel together, living between land and sea, making the best of their situation. The second was bleak, an image of himself, alone here night after night with no hope of change. Eventually he would run out of things to show her and she would, he feared, grow bored of his company. He would fall to the elements or to his own troubled mind, whichever claimed him first.

Eric shook these thoughts from his head, surprised by how suddenly and how viciously they had surfaced. He ought to be happy, he was happy, happier than he'd ever been, and he wasn't about to let an unpredictable future threaten it.

'She's in love.'

All eyes turned to Adella at this matter-of-fact declaration.

'Oh, come on!' she drawled, exasperated, 'it's obvious isn't it?'

'Well, you would know.' There was a hint of mockery in Andrina's tone, and it earned her a scowl of warning from her older sister.

Five of Triton's daughters lounged in their room, their free time between duties precious and not to be wasted. Attina and Ariel were engaged, and it was the recent behaviour of the latter that made up the subject matter of this particular meeting.

'Do you think Daddy knows?' Arista wondered.

Aquata scoffed. 'I think we can we assume not,' she answered, 'and it's not our business to tell him.' She spoke deliberately, looking to each of her sisters in turn. Since Ariel had confided in her, albeit unwillingly, Aquata felt a strange sense of duty towards the protection of her little sister's privacy.

'Do you not think he's likely to notice anyway?' considered Alana.

It was possible. That morning Ariel had been humming and twirling about the palace in a sort of daze, seeming entirely content despite her father's recent restriction of her freedom. It had bewildered them all, even Aquata—what did she do at night to induce such cheerfulness? It seemed unlike Ariel to be meeting with a boy, but perhaps Adella was right. She thought back to Ariel's subconscious mumbling, the name she had unwittingly forced them all to consider, and her heart missed a beat. She had previously thought it to be a echo of the past, dragged in sleep from the deepest recess of her youngest sister's mind; but what if the memory was more recent, and connected with her current happiness? What if he was still out there? What if Ariel had found him?

Her sisters continued their discussion, but their words were muted now and seemed very far away. Aquata couldn't picture her little brother, couldn't recall either his face or his mannerisms to memory. He had existed though, she was sure of it. He was the last thing she thought of at night, laying the dark, heart clenching with latent longing. I won't forget you, she told herself in these moments, I remember you.

The possibility that her father hadn't completely erased him from existence had always sustained her, and now it seemed more likely than ever. She forced herself to stop, to control her racing thoughts and be realistic for a moment. Ariel couldn't possibly remember Eric, she had been so young when he'd disappeared, and if she did she would surely have brought it to her sisters attention had she actually discovered him. She wouldn't keep something like that to herself; would she?

Aquata forced herself back down the the sand, to reality. She was jumping to conclusions, certainly she was. And yet... the possibility lingered, and she wasn't ready to part with it.

That night saw no relief in the weather. The waves slapped sharply against the rocks, and the entrance to the cave streamed with running water. A part of Eric hoped that Ariel would see the danger and decide against visiting—certainly he had had enough trouble getting over the rocks. She appeared though, her approach sending pangs of alarm through Eric, reminding him of the bruises he had sustained doing the very same only hours before.

'Ariel go back,' he called over the thunderous waves, 'it's not safe!'

'And leave you here alone? Never!' replied Ariel. She hauled herself over the remaining obstacles, battered by the tumultuous ocean, and outstretched her hand. 'Here, help me up.'

Eric did so without delay, awed by her determination, and carried her a safe distance from the water. There they sat, backs to the wall, huddled together in the dark.

'You didn't have to do that,' Eric told her, 'I would've understood.'

'I know.' She curled against him, her head upon his shoulder. 'I wanted to see you.'

She could feel him shivering as he looped an arm around her—did humans feel the cold so much? She wasn't warm, but the chill wasn't uncomfortable.

'You're cold,' she fretted, rubbing at Eric's arm.

He didn't deny it. 'I've been colder,' he said, grateful for her efforts. 'It's hard to light a fire when the weather's like this, when everything's so damp.'

The image of him sat here alone, shaking amidst the icy conditions made Ariel's heart clench in sympathy. She leaned closer, pressed a kiss to his cheek; she would at least try to warm his heart.

There could be no dancing that night, and so they opted to simply talk; learning, not about the surface and what was produced there, but about each other.

Ariel spoke of her sisters, giving life and personality to the six Princesses who had previously existed to Eric only in name. He was saddened to hear of the rift between them and their father, but it was one he felt he could relate to given his recently derived feelings towards his own mother.

'I can't imagine that many in one home.' Eric tired to imagine Nastasya's shack being home to six others, imagined having to share the space with so many. Would they be like him, his siblings? Would they all journey to the surface together come sunset? I was hard to imagine a concept so wholly unattached from his current situation. How different life would be! 'What's it like?' he asked.

'Chaotic, but the palace is big enough that we're not always on top of each other,' replied Ariel. 'If I was closer to them it'd be nice to have them to talk to'—she grinned, though it looked a little forced—'but it's difficult when your always breaking the rules.'

'Do any of them know about this?' asked Eric. 'About us, I mean.'

'Aquata knows I sneak out at night, but nothing more than that,' Ariel confessed. 'I don't want to risk my father finding out, he'd have a fit!'

'About where you spend your time, or who you spend it with?'

It was a question Ariel had considered countless times before. She had no doubt that should her father come to learn of her ventures to the surface she would never be allowed to leave the palace again. But were he to learn of Eric... she didn't quiet know how he would react to that. If he had been a merman living in Atlantica, if they had met there and spent their time together within its boundaries, she was sure he could have no qualms about Eric at all. It wasn't like that though. Eric's mother was an exile and Eric himself human half the time—would her father's prejudice of humanity extend to him also, was it so deeply ingrained that he would ignore the mer side of him entirely? Even without mentioning what they did during their time together that might be enough to render their relationship unacceptable. Best, she felt, to keep it a secret. How long could that last though?

In exchange for Ariel's stories about her sisters and her life in the palace, Eric divulged to her his own experiences growing up. It was the first time he'd ever done so, and it brought to light just how little he knew about himself.

'Were you born human or mer?'

'I... I don't know. I suppose it depends what time of day I was born.'

'You've never asked?'

Eric shook his head. It seemed an a obvious thing to want to know, now that Ariel mentioned it, and he wondered how the thought had never occurred to him before. He considered it now. If he had been born human at such a depth as his mother dwelled, he would surely have perished. So, either he was born mer, or he was born at the surface. If the former were true, would his mother have known of the change that would occur at sunset, or had it come as a terrifying shock? Unless he was born at the surface. The sheer plethora of possibilities and the questions they brought with them was enough to make his head ache. He wished he had Ariel's curiosity, that he might have raised such queries with his mother sooner.

He looked to her, realised just how much he valued her opinion. So, after deliberating on it for a little while, he told her of his recent misgivings surrounding his mother and of the human who had mentioned her name—though this was all he told her of Nikolaj, excluding what Freja had told him yesterday owing to its questionable accuracy. It was a weight off his mind, to share it with someone, though he felt immediately guilty at having shared his burden uninvited. It was his problem, not hers.

Ariel sat upright, gave him her full attention as he lay his private thoughts and fears before her, suspecting this to be the first time he had voiced them to anyone, certainly he didn't seem practised in it.

'You think he's your father?'

'I don't know,' sighed Eric. He had always wondered at the lack of likeness he bore to his mother, deciding that he must take after his father. But there existed such stark dissimilarities in appearance between Nikolaj and himself that it was enough to make him doubt the connection. He found the subject exhausting, it had been hanging over him for weeks now and its burden didn't lessen. 'And I don't know if I can ask my mother,' he continued, 'because it's obviously something she doesn't want to talk about.'

'And you don't think you have a right to know?' Ariel was torn somewhat between wanting to help and feeling as though she ought to step back. It was, after all, none of her business. If it were her, though, she'd want to know. She wouldn't have been able to live with the uncertainty as Eric had.

'I...' Eric trailed off. He did have a right to know, but it was so difficult to find the words.

Ariel placed a hand on his knee. 'It's your decision,' she told him softly, 'but you need to decide one way or the other, it's going to tear you apart otherwise.'