A bell jingles overhead as Ariel steps into the store. Even though the weather outside is sunny, the interior of the shop is dark. The shop feels like the kind of place where everything has dust settled over it like the first snowfall of the year. Ariel is afraid to make any noise or touch anything. With all the glass and magic, everything seems breakable.
No one is here. Ariel walks slowly around the shop, gazing at all of the mysterious trinkets.
What is magical? What is mundane? There's no way to tell. Ariel sees magic wands and magic lamps, windchimes and windmills, glass swans and hunting knives. A rack of swords rests in one corner of the store. One sword in particular catches Ariel's eye: it looks like a pirate's cutlass. She reaches for the handle.
"Careful, dearie."
Ariel withdraws her hand and turns around hurriedly. Mr. Gold is standing behind the counter.
"How long have you been there?" Ariel asks.
"Only a moment," says Gold. "I was attending to a few matters in the back room. Can I help you with something?"
Ariel composes herself and steps away from the swords. She approaches the counter, while Gold watches her carefully. His scrutiny makes her feel as if she is on display. It unnerves her, but she tries not to let that show.
Ariel says, "I need something that can kill a sea witch."
Gold gives a low whistle. He responds, "A tall order. Specific, too. If I may inquire, is there a specific sea witch you have in mind?"
"There's only one in this town. You know exactly who I'm talking about."
"Ursula."
"The very same. I've found that she's not so easy to deal with. I need magic on my side."
"Tell me, what did she do that you want her dead?"
"She attacked the man I love."
Ariel doesn't mention Killian's name. She knows about the animosity between Killian and Gold, and she doesn't think that mentioning the former would win her any sympathy from the latter.
"You're singing the same tune as everyone else in this town, dearie," says Gold. "I'd advise against the path of revenge."
"Do you have something that can kill her or not?" asks Ariel impatiently.
"Have you considered a gun?" replies Gold.
Ariel looks at him exasperatedly. She's a woman on a mission, and goddamnit she doesn't have time for his sass.
Gold holds out for only a second. He sighs loudly and says, "I'm hesitant to part with this, but your need is greater than mine."
He ducks below the counter, appearing a moment later with a sleek, black case in his hands. He places the box on the counter and opens it. Inside is a dagger unlike any other that Ariel has ever seen.
"This can kill any creature from the sea. Stab the sea witch in the heart, and she'll die quick as you please," explains Gold.
Ariel reaches for the dagger and holds it up to the light. The air around it seems to shift, as if she's looking at the dagger through water. The blade itself is a dull sea-green color. The handle looks like it is made of seaweed.
Ariel places the dagger back in its box.
"What do you want for it?" she asks.
Gold does not reply immediately. He looks Ariel up and down, considering his price. After a minute or two, he says, "Your voice."
Ariel splutters. She feels like something heavy has dropped into her stomach.
"My voice?!"
"Your voice."
Mr. Gold is stoic, impassive. Ariel cannot tell if he is kidding. She has a dreadful notion that he isn't.
"Isn't there something else?" she asks desperately. She cannot give up another part of herself to magic. No, no, no; she can't.
"This dagger has powerful magic in it, dearie," says Gold. "Remember: all magic comes at a price."
Ariel looks at the blade, remembering Killian's blood soaking into her couch cushions. She hates Ursula for putting her in this position. She hates Gold for demanding so much of her. But dammit, if this is what she needs to do, then this is what she needs to do.
When Ariel speaks, her voice comes out much quieter and meeker than she intends. She asks, "Can I get my voice back when I'm done with the dagger?"
Gold sucks in a breath and makes a face like he ate a sour lemon. "I'm hesitant to undo a deal once it's been made…but I suppose, if your need really is that dire…"
"It is."
"Well, you would be doing me a favor, getting rid of Ursula. She's the wrong combination of powerful and unbalanced to be of much help to anyone. She has a tendency to complicate things," says Gold. He pauses, considering things. "Alright, I'll make you a deal. You bring me this blade back with the sea witch's blood on it, and I'll give you your voice back, good as new."
"No tricks?" says Ariel.
"No tricks," assures Gold.
He waves his hand, and a contract and quill appear in a puff of purple smoke. Gold hands them to Ariel.
"Just sign on the dotted line," says Gold.
Ariel skims the contract. She checks for extra clauses, loopholes, anything Gold could exploit. The contract seems clean, though. Ariel holds the quill above it, hesitating for a moment.
"Any time now, dearie," says Gold.
Ariel thinks of Killian. She looks at the dagger and wonders what it will look like, bathed in Ursula's blood.
Ariel lowers the quill to the contract and signs her name. She does it in a hurry and with a pained expression on her face, but she does it nonetheless. She expects something dramatic to happen once she does, but there's nothing. No loud noise, no puff of smoke, no sudden pain as her vocal cords are ripped from her throat.
Ariel breathes a sigh of relief.
"Remember," says Gold, holding out the dagger, "It has to have the sea witch's blood on it when you give it back."
Ariel takes the dagger, gripping the hilt tightly. She opens her mouth to thank Gold: no sound comes out. Gold chuckles at the expression of surprise on her face. Ariel forces her face into stoic determinedness. She turns and walks out of the store.
Pain shoots up Killian's leg as he walks toward the front door. It hurts less than it did a few days ago, but he'd be a liar if he said it wasn't agony. He tries not to show it in front of Ariel, of course. But Ariel's not here right now, so he winces all he likes until he opens the front door. Then he winces for a different reason.
Eric is standing there in all his expensively-dressed, supposedly-charming glory. And it makes Killian sick to his stomach.
"Ariel's not here," says Killian brusquely.
"For some reason, I don't believe you," says Eric.
"That's not my problem," retorts Killian.
He makes to swing the door shut, but Eric puts himself in the way. Eric pushes the door open and steps into the house. Killian steps back instinctively, but the next moment he makes a point to puff himself up and appear intimidating. He knows how to deal with men like this; he's been doing it all his life.
"I think you should leave," he says pointedly.
"I don't think I will," says Eric.
Eric steps forward and raises a fist. Killian sees the blow coming, and he dodges it by a hair's breadth. He grabs Eric's arm while it's still oustretched. Then he forces Eric around and slams him against the wall.
"What's this about?" demands Killian, "Still bitter that you didn't get the girl? Or did the sea witch get to you?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," says Eric. His voice is muffled somewhat by his face being shoved against the wall.
Killian's leg hurts way worse than before. Killian doubts he'd be able to move his if he wanted to. But he can't hold Eric like this forever.
Killian looks around his immediate vicinity for something he can use. The butcher knife in the kitchen catches his eye, but he doesn't entertain the notion. Ariel would hate him.
Eric takes advantage of Killian's distractedness by throwing him off. Then he whirls around to sock him in the jaw. Killian goes sprawling across the floor, his legs having finally given out. He tries to get up, but he doesn't have it in him. He tastes blood; he swears he heard something in his mouth crack that isn't supposed to. Killian can only watch in grim anticipation as Eric stalks toward him like a predatory beast.
"Oh, my God!" someone says. It's a woman's voice.
Killian looks toward the door, and if ever there is a moment when Ariel comes close to being deified in his eyes, this is it. She is lit from behind by brilliant sunlight, a contrast to the dark interior of the house. Her hair is coppery and wild around her head, her eyes blazing and furious. She has a knife in her hand (Killian has no idea where she got it); she adjusts her grip on it while flexing the fingers of her other hand.
Eric turns around. He exclaims, "Wha –"
Ariel lunges forward and slams Eric against the wall. Her free hand pins his neck, while her other brings the knife up to his chest. It doesn't touch him; she at least has that much restraint.
Eric jeers, "Are you going to kill me, Ariel? What, because I attacked your boyfriend?"
Ariel says nothing. Her gaze is like fire. Killian is grateful that he is not on the wrong end of it.
Eric continues. "Are you going to carve my heart out, like Ursula did to you? Go right ahead. You won't find anything there."
Ariel's rage slips for a moment, but her hand doesn't. Eric tries to step toward her, but he finds the dagger poking into his chest. He laughs breathily.
"What are you talking about?" demands Killian. He doesn't understand why Ariel is silent. Her anger screams louder than anything else in the room.
"I've got nothing left to lose," says Eric. "It was the greatest gift she could have given me."
"She who?!" roars Killian.
He knows the answer. He suspects that Ariel does, too. The thought scares him shitless, but he needs to hear Eric say it.
"Ursula. She ripped my heart right out of my chest. And you know what? I enjoyed it."
Ariel backs away from Eric like she's been burned. She's still brandishing the knife in front of herself. She stands between Eric and Killian, ever aware of the people she needs to protect.
"I would advise you to leave," says Killian pointedly.
He can see Eric calculating in his head, deciding whether it's worth it. Ariel has never looked more intimidating, red and terrible and red. Killian senses a power in her he's never noticed before.
Eric says, "Ursula is after your blood, the both of you. Don't think some little knife is going to stop her."
With that, Eric hitches up the collar of his coat and struts out the door, cool as you please. One would think that he'd just stopped in to drop off their mail.
Ariel kneels beside Killian and sets the knife aside. She runs her hands over Killian's face and torso, checking his injuries. Her fury is gone, replaced by tender concern. She gently runs her hands over Killian's jaw, and a moment later her fingers come away stained with blood. Killian feels anger pooling inside of himself like a blood blister.
Ariel hurries into the kitchen and grabs a few dishcloths. She fills one with ice. When she returns, she hands it to Killian to hold against his jaw.
She wipes the blood from Killian's face carefully. Even with her gentle touch, Killian is in agony. The pain in his…well, in his everything has returned in full force.
He lets himself let go for a minute whilst Ariel cleans him up. But something is nagging at the edge of his mind; something is not quite right. He cannot recall what it is until he looks past Ariel to the knife on the floor.
He reaches up to stay Ariel's hand. She pauses in attending to Killian's injuries and looks at him curiously.
"Where did you get that dagger?" he asks.
Ariel shakes her head. She tosses the dish cloths over her shoulder and grabs Killian's arm. She helps him to his feet, a difficult process involving much wincing. Killian has to lean against the wall the whole time. When he is on his feet, he tries again.
"There's something you're not telling me, isn't there, love?" he says.
Ariel just looks at him. It's very clear that she's trying to say something without saying it out loud, but hell if Killian can tell what it is. The only non-verbal communication he's particularly good at involves either swords or nudity.
"The knife…where did you get it?" asks Killian.
Ariel turns away from him. She stoops to pick up the knife from the ground. Killian peers at the dagger, trying to puzzle out the mystery. There is something not entirely normal about the knife. Killian has a strong suspicion that he won't like where Ariel got it.
"Is there magic in it?" asks Killian.
Ariel won't look at him. Killian knows the truth without her having to say a single word. But the fact that she hasn't spoken since she returned to the house worries him. He grabs Ariel's wrist and forces her to turn and face him.
"Please, love. Just say something. Talk to me," he pleads.
Ariel shakes her head.
"Is there magic in that dagger?!" demands Killian.
His voice is loud, abrasive. Ariel jumps at the sudden hike in volume; he immediately regrets being so rough. He releases Ariel's wrist immediately.
"Just tell me, Ariel. Please. Is there magic in that dagger?" he asks.
Ariel looks at him. There's enough of a quiver in her expression to say "yes." Killian's face falls. A horrible sense of dread clutches at his gut.
"All magic comes at a price. What…what did you give up this time?" he asks.
Ariel shakes her head. Her eyes brim with tears.
"You didn't," says Killian.
The silent truth is right there, but he refuses to believe it.
Ariel turns and moves toward the stairs. Killian goes to follow after her. But the second he lets go of the wall, he tumbles to the ground. Ariel hesitates initially, but her concern for Killian overrides her desire to keep her secret. She crouches beside Killian and places a hand on his shoulder. Killian places his hand over hers. His expression is soft, his voice softer.
"You gave up your voice," he says sadly.
Ariel nods. Killian opens his mouth to speak, but Ariel stands and turns away from him. She folds her arms around herself and ducks her head. Killian wonders whether she is trying to hide tears. The thought tears him up inside worse than Ursula ever could.
Ariel walks up the stairs. Killian cannot summon the energy to follow her. His legs feel as though they're made of glass. It is a while before he summons the energy to stand. Even then, all he can do is limp over to the couch a few yards away.
Killian collapses on the couch and falls asleep shortly after. His sleep is dreamless for the first time in many days, thankfully.
In the morning, he forgets the previous day's events for a brief, blissful second. But everything comes back to him in a rush. He feels a sense of dread pooling in his gut.
Killian notices a note on the coffee table. He reaches for it and skims it quickly. It's just five words, written in Ariel's loopy handwriting: I had to protect you.