Jim stumbled among the rotting old dungeon cells, his exhaustion so overwhelming now that he leaned heavily on the moldy walls. Eric ordered for a wheelchair to be brought, and Jim put up no fight this time. He was too preoccupied.

"She's not here, either." Jim groaned, sliding to the ground.

Harris crouched beside his apprentice. "How long had she been staying with you, this dame?" He asked gently. Jim ran a hand over his sweat-stained face.

"About two days." His head hung. "Feels like forever."

"She's that important to you, eh?" The captain smiled, and Jim returned it with a frown.

"She's important to the prince." He countered. "I just hate that I've screwed this up."

"Uh-huh." The captain raised a brow, unconvinced.

"Look, I don't have time to discuss my personal life, OK?" Jim growled, trying to pull himself to his feet again. "We don't have much time to-- what's that?"

"What's what?" The captain and Eric asked in unison.

"That-- high pitched noise. It sounds almost like a whistle. Like Sable's, only more--" The sailor's eyes widened. "Frantic." Jim scrambled to his feet, slamming into the parallel cell's bars. The teen didn't care. He only cared about reaching the source of the shrill sound, and he used everything and everyone as leverage to make it back up the dungeon's stairs and into the Old Castle's halls.

"Jim! Jim!" Eric called as the crippled youth moved with miraculous speed back the way they'd come. "Wait a moment! Why are you so sure this is her? It could just be Sable being a prima donna... Jim!"

"It is her." Jim insisted. "The whistle is close enough to hear, which means that the source is in Old Castle. Why would Sable be here?"

Eric had to admit the logic was sound. "OK, it's worth looking into. I even think I hear it now. So why don't you let me find it? You are so weak, I don't want--"

"No!" Jim grunted, swinging determinedly forward. "I have to find her--" as he swung farther out of earshot, the spacer continued, "I have to save her."

**************

The princess blew on the whistle more fervently, trying not to cry.

Finally, she could hear swift footsteps approach. She stopped whistling and began pounding on the door again until a harsh voice snapped, "Stop that racket, you man-stealing wench!" Ariel almost collapsed in tears right then. It was only Sable.

"You little thief, you stole my whistle!" The duchess huffed. Her captive nodded even though the noble couldn't see her, hoping the kidnapper would open the doors to retrieve her trinket. "Well, I'll have it back soon enough-- after sundown. I just came down here to confirm you have it. They're searching for you, you know. In fact, they're not very far away." Ariel waited with bated breath, though she knew this vile human was leering on her side of the locked doors. "It's a shame I'll have to lure your rescuers away." Ariel screamed a silent scream of rage at the woman, calling dozens of curses on the petite girl's head. Her captor only trotted haughtily away.

The whistling stopped but Jim pressed on, moving as fast as he could in the direction he thought the noise had been coming from.

"Jim!" Eric called. He had stopped to receive the wheelchair from an attendant, who was breathless from trying to find them.

"Hawkins!" Captain Harris ordered, hastily walking up behind the teen and lifting him beneath the arms. The student grunted as he felt the full weight of his casted leg. "You can continue this mad search sitting down." He deposited Jim in the chair, pulling a handkerchief from his pant pocket and handing it to his apprentice. "You look like death, lad."

Jim was mopping the sweat from his eyes when Sable ran up. She slowed considerably upon seeing them. The spacer thought she mumbled "So close?" under her breath. He had gotten good at lip reading since Ariel had arrived.

He was about to ask the duchess what she meant, but the prince beat him to the punch. "Sable, what are you doing all the way out here?"

"Well, I was-- looking for you!" The girl replied animatedly. "You're looking for that girl, right? I've already searched all down this corridor, why don't we try the kitchen?"

"We've already been there." Eric said, disheartened by Sable's news.

"The suites?"

"Yes."

"The basements?"

"Thoroughly."

"Ugh, the stables?!"

"Unfortunately, yes."

"The only place someone here hasn't searched," Jim cut in, "Is the Old Castle. Now, if you'll excuse me for not trusting you," he wheeled past the brunette. "I'd rather search them myself."

Sable almost seethed. "I assure you, Jim," she articulated through clenched teeth. "Your girlfriend is not down that hall."

"What?" Eric asked, confused.

Even as Jim flushed, all the pieces fell into place. If Sable thought that Ariel was romantically involved with him, there was nothing she wouldn't do to remove competition. Why he would bring his girlfriend to the palace in the first place, Jim didn't understand, but who knew what went on in Sable's crazed mind?

Jim's cheeks burned in indignation. "What have you done with her?" He accused.

"Me?!" Sable replied. "What ever could you mean?"

"You shallow witch." Jim growled, foregoing any pleasantries royals were usually guaranteed. "If you've harmed so much as a hair on her head, I swear you will never see or hear from me again! Now tell me where you've hidden her."

The crowd behind Jim stirred with surprise at the typically mellow cripple's malice. Some whispered about whether there was truth in the sailor's words. Others knew the punishments Sable liked to inflict on disobedient men, and made hushed bets among themselves which of them it would be. Sable could not condemn him now, though, until the claims on her own head were withdrawn.

"Why would I hide such a common girl?" The seductress asked, eyebrow raised. "So skinny, clumsy, even mute! How would I be even slightly rivaled by her?"

The grin Jim gave her was unsettling. "So," he chuckled. "You have seen her, then?"

Sable covered her mouth, and her cousin moved in. "When? Where?" Eric asked forcefully. "I've gotten tired of your games, Sable! Where have you hidden my future bride?"

"Your--?" Sable gasped, trying to shrug off Eric's hands from her shoulders. "But I thought--"

Just then, a shrill note cut through the debate. Jim's head whipped toward the sound, and everyone fell silent. They were close enough to recognize the sound.

"Sable?" Jim whispered. "Do you have your whistle?"

"I'm so sorry, Jim." Sable whimpered as the whole search team ran toward the whistle. "I was told that she was your girlfriend, and I thought you had cheated on me. I never meant--" The noble smiled pitifully. "I knew you wouldn't betray me." She attempted to hug him mid-run, but Jim swerved out of the way.

"Right now I would do much worse than betray you." He growled, his eyes not straying from his path. He turned his head to those behind him. "Left turn!"

Ariel blew into the whistle with all her might, until her throat was dry. Soon she could hear footsteps and voices as they ricocheted off the walls. Her heart leapt as she heard Jim calling for her. She began to pound on the closet doors again, trying to convey her position and delight through the whistle's short tweets.

Jim was pushing on the wheels of his chair so hard that his arms ached. The shrill sound he pursued was close now, so close he could hear desperate banging that accompanied the whistling like primitive folk music. The spacer turned the last corner sharply, scraping Sable's arm and nearly toppling as his left wheel lifted into the air.

"Ariel!" He yelled, his voice cracking with anticipation and relief. "I'm coming, hang on!" The whistling came in shorter, shriller bursts, signaling that she'd heard him.

It took him mere seconds to barrel down the hallway to where the distress calls originated. Jim's hands burned as he used them to forcefully pull his crude transport to a skidding stop.

"It's OK, I'm right here, I'm right here." He soothed from the other side of the thick, oak doors, his hands exploring the barriers for a weakness. The sailor noticed the lock and sighed.

"A broom closet, Sable?" Eric asked in disgust as the prince and his cousin caught up.

Jim only sighed. "The key, please."

Sable arched an eyebrow. "I told you, I don't have it." Another bang from within the closet, angrier this time.

"Sable, this is not the time to be jealous." Eric reprimanded, standing defensively behind Jim. "Give us the key, or I will send you back to the winter palace on the northern coast."

"You still have no proof that I did anything!" The brunette protested, her cheeks red with fury. "I passed that thief in the hall! She must have spirited my whistle off me. Besides," she glanced over to where Jim was speaking in coaxing tones through the keyhole. "If I had done this, I would have gotten rid of the key long ago."

Eric sighed in exasperation, but Jim just sat back from the doorknob to rustle in his pocket.

"Morph," he said under his breath to the alien who had taken refuge in the comfort of his trousers. "I could really use some lock picks right now." When he withdrew his hand, he was gripping a leather pouch. He extracted the first pick and tried the lock.

Ariel pressed herself up against the doors, the whistle clanging aside as Jim's voice came from the other side of the wood.

"It's OK, I'm right here, I'm right here." She had no idea hearing his voice again would be so heavenly. The captive leaned into the sound as if it were her lifeline, her heart wanting to phase through the solid surface into his arms. Jim, she thought elatedly. I knew you would find me. The girl was shaken from her revelry when Sable's voice pierced the walls of her prison.

Ariel's blood boiled and she hit the door hard when Sable denied any connection with her imprisonment. 'That shark tricked me into coming here!' The princess insisted silently. 'Jim, don't believe her! I--'

Then, a new voice joined the conversation, one that was also skeptical of the brunette's innocence. 'The prince.' Ariel gasped. For a moment she was self-conscious (did her hair look OK? Was it proper to see a prince while bloody and bruised?) and extremely conflicted. She had resolved to marry Prince Eric for her sake but, more importantly, for the sake of all of her friends and family. But she had realized during her imprisonment, if this feeling of longing never to be parted from a person, willing to be with them through sickness and health, was love, then she did not love Eric. She loved-- Jim.

As the prince continued to converse with Sable, hushed tones slipped through the crack between the doors, as soothing as a fresh breeze in the stale air of the closet.

"Are you all right in there?" Jim whispered. Ariel pressed her forehead against the door, the slight bump giving him his response. "I-I'm so sorry I got you mixed up in this, Ariel." He said woefully. "I completely forgot about Sable. I should have protected you. Kept you-- with me--" The ex-mermaid shook her head profusely, wishing she could dispel his guilt. Though she did wish he had stayed with her--

"You know I still--" Jim paused, wary of his company overhearing, "--have feelings for you, right?" The light shining that entered under the closet doors flickered, and Ariel looked down. Three of Jim's fingers protruded from beneath the wood. Her heart thumping wildly, she lowered her fingers to touch his. "After I get you out of here," the spacer continued, his voice even lower and more discreet, "We can get away from here. You can fake being sick, or I'll say the whole thing was a mistake, anything..." Ariel could see him blushing in her mind's eye; turning his head away slightly, grinning the way he did when he was embarrassed or trying not to be amused. "I don't-- I don't want you to leave me." He laughed, but the sound broke Ariel's heart. "How would I pick bar fights or buy dresses without you?"

Ariel chuckled, the tension successfully broken.

She wished she could say yes-- both literally and physically. She wished she could leap into his arms and insist on staying there, but it was too late to change her mind, too late to do what her heart yearned for. The princess bit her lip as Jim began picking the lock. If only she could embrace him once, kiss him once, maybe she could live the rest of her life with a stranger.

Jim's fingers still burned from where Ariel touched him. He didn't know why he was so excited by her nearness now, though she had been living with him for the past two days. Maybe it was because the man she thought she loved was standing right behind him?

Eric waited with bated breath as the sailor jammed pick after pick into the lock.

"How long should this take?" He asked finally, voicing the thoughts of rest of the cripple's audience. Jim would have rolled his eyes if he hadn't been concentrating so hard.

"It depends on when I choose the right pick. But I will get it open." He inserted another pick into the opening. "It's all just a matter of--" The pick he was jiggling suddenly clicked the tumblers into place, allowing the pick to turn the lock. Jim's face heated up inexplicably. "It worked." He whispered. The multitude behind him leaned forward as the sailor grabbed the handle and pulled.

"It won't open." Ariel heard Jim say from the other side of her prison door.

'No!' She screamed desperately. 'No, no, no! Jim!' She beat the door with her good hand as the door shook from Jim's attempts on the other side.

'Jim! I can't go on without seeing you again!' Ariel yelled as she hit the wood, her hand bleeding and her right shoulder aching. 'If you get me out of here, I'll follow you anywhere! I'll escape Ursula as soon as I can, kill her if I have to, just to be with you. I'm sorry for lying and causing you trouble, but I hope you know I'd face down a hundred sea witches and start a million bar fights to be with you!' Ariel backed up, gripping her right arm, and made ready to charge the door.

The spacer tried in vain to pry the door open, but whatever he tried, it wouldn't budge. He even tried standing for more leverage.

"Well, you should take into account that you have been running around the castle all day in-- uh, in your state." The prince pointed out. "Let me have a go."

Jim frowned slightly but agreed, moving out of the way for the older man, but not so far as he couldn't reach Ariel quickly once she was released.

The prince looked a little nervous as he grasped both door handles. Sable leaned forward, her jaw locked and fists clenched. Even Jim felt pensive, though he didn't know why, refusing his wheelchair in favor of his crutches, which he reclaimed from a nearby attendant.

"Alright," Eric inhaled deeply, "Here goes."

***********

Ariel ran headlong toward the door, her head tilted and left shoulder pointed at the door for maximum impact. She didn't care if she dislocated her other shoulder, or if she had bruises for weeks and no magic to fix them. Beyond those doors was Jim, and Jim would make everything better. Right before the redhead's body made contact with the wood, however, light flooded her small prison and Ariel fell into the real world.

The closet's double doors burst open with a bang, and everyone took a step back in mild alarm. Only Jim didn't falter; he had to see Ariel, to make sure she was all right. But the opening door prevented the cripple from intercepting her as she ran headlong into the stunned prince's arms. The spacer wanted to hurry forward and check her for injuries, yearned to yank her from the hold of the ignorant noble and care for her himself. Along with bleeding palms, she looked like she had a dislocated shoulder, and he doubted Eric had any idea what to do about it.

Instead, Jim swallowed his instincts and waited, curious to see how the two would react. Eric looked down, dazed, at the girl in his arms, and Ariel, terrified, looked back. A spark of recognition turned to flame in the prince's eyes. "I've found you." He whispered, almost not believing it himself. "My Mystery Girl. I--" He kissed her tenderly on the forehead and drew her more completely into his embrace. Their audience applauded hesitantly, not knowing what else to do, but genuinely happy for their prince. Jim just stared. The spacer's heart felt like it was being torn apart by galactic scorpinos, then thrown out into deep space to freeze. He wanted so desperately to run away, yet his legs wouldn't move him. Ariel managed to turn her head and catch her friend's gaze. She smiled wanly, then buried her face in Eric's shirt, her good arm tightening its grip on him. So, she had found her prince after all. There was no hope for him now, not that he should have dared to hope in the first place. Jim looked down and away, his heart icing over.

Time slowed as Ariel registered the absence of her prison doors, the sudden light, and the sensation of falling. The princess gasped as she fell onto a stranger, their collision throwing her arms forward and around whomever she had been thrown on. The girl didn't look up to see who it was-- the light coming in through the windows was too strong-- but she knew at once that it wasn't Jim. The smell was all wrong, and if she had Jim with that kind of force, even if he was using his crutches, she would have bowled him over.

"I've found you," the person whispered hesitantly, and Ariel's eyes widened. She knew that voice. 'Eric?' She mouthed in disbelief, then horror, as she stared up into the prince's face. Then-- where was Jim? "My Mystery Girl." Eric said lovingly, and Ariel closed her eyes as the prince kissed her on the forehead, but she felt nothing; at least, not what she should have felt. In the prince's arms she felt like a lost guppy; safe, warm, comforted, like a fortress in the middle of a war. Ariel shifted her head and her heart skipped a beat when she saw Jim and met his eyes. He looked like Davy Jones' locker, and she hated to think he got that way because of her. However, she knew she would do the same for him, and as she smiled reassuringly at him she wished it were him she was hugging. Because even though Eric made her feel safe like a castle, Jim made her feel loved... like a home. A rush of memories and could-have-beens flooded Ariel's mind to the point her vision clouded and the princess turned away, wiping her tears on the prince's shirt. Jim had helped her get this far. She would not give him a reason to feel the guilt that burdened her heart.

************

Sebastian reached the sea kingdom at around noon, his cracked shell slowing his progress substantially.

"Sire!" The crab wheezed as he entered the throne room. "Aryal is in grave dane-ja! A hooman girl trapped ha in a closet, an--"

"I know, Sebastian." Triton said, kneading his brow. "My eyes have scarcely left the scrying mirrors since Ursula's arrest. I saw the whole ordeal."

"And?" Sebastian asked feverishly, wondering why the sea king had not acted, if his daughter was on the brink of eternal servitude.

"She was rescued." Triton replied tiredly, "by the human prince, Eric."

Sebastian perked up. "Dis is-- dis is good, sire! Wunda-full! With ha wit an' charm, Aryal will definitely have dat kees by sundown."

"Yes, I suppose so." The king pondered, rotating his trident ponderously.

"But--" The crustacean prompted worriedly.

"She's in love."

"I kno, dat was de whole plan, so dat--"

"Not him, Sebastian."

Sebastian looked down, tapped his claws together nervously. "Ya," he finally said. "I know."

"We have that sea witch locked up on legal charges." Triton said slowly, turning back to the scrying mirrors mounted on the wall. They portrayed two scenes; the first Ariel being carried away by excited servants, the other showing a depressed spacer wheeling in the opposite direction. "We can only hope that the law is stronger than her contract. Then, maybe my little Ariel will be safe."

After visiting the palace physician, Sebastian went to the princess' quarters to see how the sisters were faring. When he entered the room, he wondered if this wasn't a good idea.

"How is she doing?"

"Has she kissed the prince yet?"

"What's it like on the surface?"

"I always knew this would happen..."

"Is it true they 'drink' things up there?"

"Ladies, ladies!" Sebastian scolded, raising his claws in defense against their onslaught. They had stampeded him when he announced his presence, and now they were so close that everywhere he looked was another princess's face. "She ees doing fine. She ees wit de prince now, so de situation ees completely out of our hans. De only ting we con do is make shoo-a dat Ursula does not escape, and ah am on my way to dat witch's prison right now."

"Will we ever see her again?" The quiet question came from Attina, the only daughter not a part of the inquisitive hoard. The other sisters dispersed upon hearing the question, but all looked at their mentor with sad, expectant eyes. The crab squinted his eyes in painful thought for a moment, then said slowly, "Ah don't kno."

************

"Mademoiselle, if you keep moo-ving, I can't accurately take your measure-ments," the seamstress said in exasperation as she lifted the princess's arm for the umpteenth time from its slumped position. Ariel tried her best to keep her arms straight and her back rigid, but ever since she had been dragged from Jim she felt like huddling in a corner and crying. The brunette, short from Ariel's perspective from the two-foot-tall podium. lowered her tape measure and looked into her client's face. She gave the lovesick girl a small smile. "I know eet must be scary, being zo helpless and zo far away from home, but--" the woman, only a couple years Ariel's senior, sighed and wrapped the measuring tape around the teenager's tiny waist. "-- once you marry ze prince, he'll be sure to alert your family, even get ze finest physicians to treat your voice."

Ariel nodded, but her arms slumped again, and the dress maker put the measuring tape away in resignation. "Vell, ve still have cloth to go sru, and since you cannot bear to have your measure-ments takeen," The princess bit her lip guiltily. "You can peek out your favour-eet cloth and style." The seamstress attempted another encouraging smile, but her irritation would not be suppressed. Her redheaded client slunk noiselessly off the short podium and followed the older woman meekly over to a long table displaying bolt upon bolt of expensive cloth.

"Ze best cloth eez on zis end," the seamstress informed Ariel passively, not bothering to slow her brisk pace when she noticed the bride-to-be was lagging behind. "You vill need to pick a main shade, colour for ze trim, and one ozzer for layering and dee-tailz." The brunette looked back then, making quick observations of the other girls' body type, hair color, and complexion for the over-all design and fit of the dress. Only after a complete one-over did the woman notice the bride's face; she was staring at the rows of fabric, her eyes blank and confused. The dress maker sighed. "Do not worree; I vill help you." She handed the girl a piece of paper and a quill; the prince ordered these to be on hand at all times (at the advice of his friend). "My name ees Jeanette." The smaller girl took the paper and wrote for a brief moment, then handed the page back, her mouth pulled into the first smile Jeanette had seen on the girl. She looked down at the parchment.

"I'm Ariel."

*********

Man, that's a lot for seven pages!

Well, here it is folks! The beginning of the end! Thanks for all your support and reviews! Luv yoo all!

~Iesnoth