Ariel tucks an errant strand of hair beneath her hat. She knows the precaution is a little silly. Still, she'd rather reduce the risk of Ursula seeing her, and her hair is a dead giveaway.
It's funny, she realizes, how nervous she feels going over to Eric's house. She's been over there before more times than she can count, and on none of those occasions did she ever feel nervous. She usually felt lonely, horny, or some combination of the two.
As she steps up Eric's walkway, she looks around and takes in the state of the house. It is immaculate, or at least it was a week ago. Everything looks just slightly overgrown and just slight dirty in the way that it would if someone had suddenly given up caring.
Ariel knocks on the front door. She doesn't have to wait long before it opens. Has Eric been waiting for her to come? If so, he's good at hiding it. He looks genuinely surprised when he first sees Ariel, and then his surprise turns to anger.
Ariel holds up a hand to pacify him. She pulls a note out of her coat pocket and holds it out to Eric. He regards her suspiciously, but eventually he takes the letter and skims it quickly.
"You want me to deliver this to Ursula?" he asks.
Ariel nods.
"You'll get yourself killed," he says uncaringly.
Ariel shrugs. Then she walks away. She only has until sunrise tomorrow, and she doesn't want to spend any more time than strictly necessary at Eric's house.
She walks home at a brisk pace. The streets are covered with a thin layer of rain, as per usual. The sky is overcast from horizon to horizon, as it always is. The weather today is the standard Storybrooke climate. The whole world feels perfectly normal, so Ariel feels all the more out of place in it with all of her shadows.
Her thoughts do not stay in one place long. Now they are pointing a knife at Eric's chest, now they are arguing with Killian, now they are swathed in Ursula's vulgar darkness. Each new thought hurts just a little bit more, and Ariel just tries to shove them down. But the less she wants to think, the more she does. Will it hurt, she wonders, if Ursula wins tomorrow?
She is glad when she nears her house. The walk back from Eric's was long, longer than usual. Ariel will be glad for some company.
Ariel steps into the house and shrugs out of her coat, hanging it up on a wall hook. She takes off her hat and shakes out her hair. She listens for any sign of Killian, but the house is still.
She steps into the living room. The couch is still spotted with Killian's blood from the day Ursula attacked him and Ariel got her heart back. Ariel's note to him, hastily written this morning, still rests on the coffee table. It looks as though it has been crumpled and smoothed out several times.
Ariel checks the house whole, but Killian is nowhere to be found. Ariel can't say that she's surprised. Last night didn't exactly end on a pleasant note.
Ariel sits on the edge of her bed. The sheets are rumpled and folded over. She can still see the indent on her pillow from where her head had been. Her bed was so very empty and so very cold last night without Killian beside her. She decides then that she doesn't want to spend tonight alone. Killian may be angry for what she's done, giving her voice away to Gold. But what she's doing tomorrow is for the sake of Killian's safety, so she'll be damned if she doesn't spend the night before in his bed.
Ariel grabs the dagger she got from Gold, straps a sheath to her waist, and slides the dagger in. Then she grabs her coat and leaves the house in a hurry, pausing only to lock the front door.
It is not yet midday, Ariel knows, but the overcast sky does not betray enough sunlight to gauge the time. It makes no matter. Ariel walks faster, mentally mapping out every inch of town between herself and Killian.
The docks are empty, save for an old man tending a dingy. Ariel gets a whiff of old fish as she passes by him. The Storybrooke docks are small, and Ariel needs only a moment to find where Killian docked the Jolly Rodger.
Ariel places her hand through the glamour and watches it vanish from sight. Then she steps through. She finds herself on a flight of steps leading up the side of the great, red hull. Ariel hurries up the steps. They creak the whole way, like a wheezy old man.
The deck is deserted. Ariel goes below to search for Killian. It does not take long. Ariel hears him muttering and banging about in his cabin the second she sets foot on the staircase. She hurries toward the sound, but she stops short just out of view of the door.
Doubt rises in her, catching at the back of her throat. Ariel thinks of the pain in Killian's eyes last night when he realized what she'd given up. Does she really want to see that again? She grapples with her indecision for a moment. In the end she decides that since she's already here, she may as well bite her lip and take the plunge.
Ariel steps into the doorway of Killian's cabin. Killian is sitting on his bunk and holding an ice pack to his jaw. He grumbles something about the pain in his legs and a "bloody bastard" that Ariel strongly suspects is Eric. Then Killian looks up and sees Ariel standing there.
He is silent. His hands fall to his side; the ice pack drops to the floor. Killian rises to his feet and immediately rushes to Ariel. He reaches out a hand to caress her cheek, and she smiles sadly, not unaware of the pain in his eyes.
"Can you speak?" he asks.
Ariel shakes her head. Killian's face falls. He leans forward to press his forehead against Ariel's.
"Why, love? Why did you make a deal with that crocodile?" he says.
Ariel does not want to waste time lamenting her deal with Gold. What's done is done. She tilts her head up to kiss Killian. He lets her do so, but then he pulls away.
"What is this about, love?" he asks.
Ariel unstraps the sheath from her waist and tosses it onto a nearby shelf, the dagger within clattering agains the wood. Killian stares at the dagger for a moment. Then he realizes what must be going on.
"You're going to confront Ursula, aren't you?" he says.
Ariel nods. She cannot lie to Killian. But she will not waste time explaining her plan to him, especially when she has no voice. She would much rather do things that require no speech.
She steps forward and places her arms around Killian's neck. She kisses him hard. Killian wraps his arms around her waist. He guides her over to his bunk, and they settle in the middle of the mattress. Killian is on top. He has his good hand pressed beside Ariel's head to support his weight.
"Come for one last roll in the hay before you fulfill a death wish?" he asks.
Ariel shakes her head. She places a hand on Killian's cheek and gives him a look that she hopes says everything she can't right now.
"You're killing me," says Killian, "You really are."
He shifts so that he's lying next to Ariel and facing her. He reaches forward to brush her hair out of her face.
"You don't have to do this, Ariel," he says, "The sea witch is powerful. If you get hurt doing whatever it is you're going to –"
Ariel places a finger over Killian's lips. She raises her eyebrows and gives him a look that clearly says "be quiet." Killian nods. Ariel takes her hand away from shushing him, replacing it with her lips.
The kiss is bittersweet. It speaks of everything they've had and everything they may lose. It is, undoubtedly, the best kiss they've had since their first.
Ariel recalls their first kiss. She had been fresh from the sea, with oceanwater dripping her from hair and seaweed draped from her tail. Killian had been sat on the dock of some fishing town. He had leaned down into the water while Ariel pulled herself up on one of the pilons. The kiss had been quick, the stolen and dangerous kiss of lovers from different worlds.
That kiss was the moment when Ariel lost control of her heart. And right now, in the cabin, she knows that she has not regained it since. Killian still holds her heart in his hand, and he's been good to it.
Eric descends deeper into darkness. The stairs are lost to sight, and Eric has to keep one hand on the railing. At last, he feels himself on the flat ground of the cellar. He can see murky, greenish light off to the side, but it does not extend to where he stands.
"Ursula?" he calls out.
He hears a swish of fabric, the clinking of vials, foosteps on flagstones. And then candles burst into life around him. Ursula stands before him, wearing her usual black robe. Her hair is curled over one shoulder, falling to just below her breasts.
Eric holds out the note. Ursula snatches it from him, holds it up to the light, and scans it quickly.
"It's from Ariel," Eric explains.
"I can see that," Ursula replies sharply, "The bitch is bold."
"Too bold," says Eric.
Ursula's eyes are still glued to the note, as if there is some hidden message in it. Eric waits for Ursula to say more, but she is not forthcoming.
"Are you going to go at sunrise?" he asks. "To the docks?"
"I believe I shall," says Ursula.
A grin forms on the sea witch's face. Eric can tell that an idea is taking shape in her mind. Judging by her look of glee, it is not an idea that will bode well for Ariel.
"You went to the mermaid's house yesterday," says Ursula. It is not a question.
"She didn't speak," says Eric.
"Interesting," responds Ursula, "Fetch me my scrying basin."
Eric hurries to an alcove in the far wall. He picks up a heavy, stone basin with runes carved on the sides.
"Mind you don't spill any of the water," says Ursula.
Eric makes a point not to. He moves slowly as he carries the basin over, keeping it level the whole time. Ursula takes it from him easily. She treats it as though it's light as a feather.
"Show me the mermaid. Show me the last words she spoke," says Ursula.
She swirls the basin around. The water inside sloshes about, but it does not leave the basin. Ursula's focus is absolute, her attention unwavering. Eric is silent as his mistress watches events of the past. He waits until she has finished, and then he carries the scrying basin back to its alcove.
"The little mermaid gave her voice away," says Ursula gleefully. "I have a job for you, Eric."
"Anything you command, Ursula," he replies.
Last-night-on-earth sex is pretty damn great. It was great the first time, and the second, and the third. Hell, Ariel's lost count by this point. Whatever round they're on, Killian's doing a damn good job helping her forget that she might die tomorrow.
Ariel giggles silently as she feels Killian tickle her inner thigh. Her body shakes with the laughter, though, so he gets the point. Killian comes up from between her legs and kisses her on the cheek. He's smiling like he's so damn proud of himself, as he should be. Smooth-talk isn't the only good thing Killian can do with his tongue.
Killian lies on his back, and Ariel cuddles against him with her head on his shoulder. Killian kisses the top of her head and idly strokes her hip. The bedsheets are tangled and forgotten at the foot of the mattress.
"Got more in you, love?" asks Killian.
Ariel raises her head to give him a look. Killian chuckles and leans in to steal a kiss. Ariel kisses him back. She brings her hand up to stroke a finger along his collarbone. When they pull apart, she puts her head back down on his shoulder and rests her hand against his chest.
"You should rest a while. You'll need it for tomorrow," says Killian.
Ariel is surprised that Killian isn't trying to talk her out of it. Killian continues speaking, having sensed Ariel's reaction.
"For one reason or another, you're determined to kill the sea witch. I know you well enough to realize that there's nothing I can do to stop you. So I figure I'll give you a good lay and a good night's sleep and see to it that you're ready to spill some blood other than your own tomorrow," he says.
Ariel smiles. She is grateful for Killian's support in her endeavor, though "suicide mission" might be a better term. Whatever the case, she wants the support of the man for whom she's risking her life.
Ariel turns her head to kiss Killian's neck. She's not shy about using her tongue, and Killian seems to appreciate it. She nuzzles her nose along his jaw. Then she shifts herself so that she's on top of him.
This could be round four or round fourteen for all she knows. She does know that it's a good one. Killian's been on top for most of the day, so this is a welcome change of pace to the both of them, especially since Ariel was beginning to get the sense that Killian's legs had started to hurt again. The sex is no less vigorous because of it, though. Ariel wonders briefly whether it's a bad idea to use all of her energy fucking Killian senseless. Then she decides that she doesn't particularly care.
When they're finished, Ariel reaches for the sheets. She draws them up over herself and Killian, having decided to finally get some rest.
"Sleep well," says Killian.
Ariel kisses him on the cheek.
They curl up around each other, legs entwined and arms wrapped around each other. They don't need to turn out any lights, as the lamp went out a few hours ago. Neither Ariel nor Killian had ever bothered to get up and relight it.
Ariel slips quickly into sleep. She always does after good sex. Killian's mind is slower in slipping off, though. He tries to lose himself in the feel of Ariel's body next to his, the soft sound of her breathing. He begins counting sheep, and at last he feels himself become lost to sleep. As he drifts off, he can swear that he hears Ariel's voice calling out to him from above deck.