"How is my beautiful bride?" Eric threw open the door to the chamber a couple hours later. Ariel jumped slightly at his entrance, but she slid her legs from their curled position on the window seat to cover up her fright. Jeanette, on the other hand, had no such qualms.
"My preence! How could you juss barghe in like zat! You made me mees a steetch and stab my finger!" Ariel stared, dumbstruck, as the brunette looked defiantly up at her superior, her jaw set and eyes squinted.
Eric surprised the princess all the more by laughing in return. "Ah, Jean, you know I didn't mean it!"
The newly dubbed "Jean" rolled her eyes. "Yes, I believed zat excuse ze first few hun-dred times, Bumbling Preence, but you knew I was in here, and you made a szeen anyhow!"
The prince raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Would you like me to 'kees eet and make eet bet-air?'" Jeanette swatted at him with her good hand, but she was blushing. Then she looked over at Ariel, who was watching them curiously, and sobered.
"I vill, uh, go dress ze cut." Jeanette stood and landed a slap on Eric's shoulder. "You behave." She ordered before hurrying out of the room.
Eric smiled to himself, picking up the skirt the dressmaker had been working on and sifted the cloth between two fingers. "This is nice material. Did you pick it out?"
Ariel jumped again, then shook her head fervently. The prince grinned at her honesty and let the material drop back onto the chair. "So she picked it out then. That's just like Jean- Jeanette. She can be so pushy sometimes." He chuckled, and Ariel was glad he was so lighthearted and kind. She did not love him, but at least she would not be miserable in his palace.
Eric took a seat on a stool near the window where Ariel was perched.
"The ship is being decorated and the cake prepared as we speak... or rather, as I speak." He informed her a bit uneasily. "All the nobles and my friends and family are invited, though the sunset deadline makes everything a little tight. That's my fault I guess, I've just waited so long for you, I don't want to wait-" Eric leaned on his knees and looked inquiringly into his fiancee's face. "But are you sure there is no one I can invite for you?"
Ariel's eyes widened at the question. She knew that she would probably never see her family again after she turned human; the fact had been pummeled into her head from all the lectures Sebastian had given her about her folly. But the redhead imagined if she had met and lived with and known the prince like she initially planned, she would not even be feeling the regret and guilt she was feeling now. She would have rushed into marriage and thought about the consequences later.
Now, though, she realized that her father would not be there to give her away at her wedding. Her sisters would not be her bridesmaids. Flounder would not be the best man. She was utterly alone, marrying a man she did not love, to avoid the destruction of a kingdom that she contributed to through her selfish actions. She felt like shark bait with no way out.
"What's wrong? I'm sorry-" The prince gasped as fresh tears streamed down her face. He reached out to touch her then reconsidered, wondering if that would be counterproductive. "Is there anything I can do? I-" Ariel sniffed and, heart pounding, reached out her small, pale arms toward the prince.
The prince smiled a small smile, then stood and picked her up effortlessly, his strong arms enveloping her with warmth. She buried her face in his shirt, sobbing silently in mourning for her lost family. Ariel didn't protest when he began to carry her toward the exit.
Jeanette came in when they reached the door, her wounded finger wrapped in a small scrap of cotton. A flash of shock crossed her face when she saw the shaking form in the prince's arms.
"Just pre-wedding jitters," Eric explained lamely. Ariel looked over her shoulder to see who her prince was addressing. "I'm going to keep her with me for the remainder of the evening. You can do the rest without her can't you?"
"I'll be fine- till the final fitting," Jeanette said hesitantly, trying to get her face under control. Eric seemed satisfied with the seamstress's answer, but Ariel knew the look in the woman's eyes. Jeanette was heartbroken. She was in love with the prince.
Ariel turned her face back into Eric's chest. She had already broken one heart today, she would not brood on another.
"Where is he?" Sable stomped her right foot, hands on her hips. Captain Harris looked up lazily from his maps and slowly withdrew his cigar from his mouth. He exhaled a cloud of smoke in the duchess's general direction.
"Who?"
"You know very well who!" Sable growled. "Jim Hawkins, where is he?"
"I don't reckon I know, missy."
Sable fumed a moment, then hissed slowly, "My cousin orders his presence for supper. NOW."
The captain sighed, situating his captain's hat on the crown of his head. "The boy tol' me not to tell a soul where he is... but I guess you don't have one o' them, eh Sable?"
Sable squinted at the man. "It's Duchess to you."
Captain Harris nodded, waving her comment off. "He's on the spar deck, makin' fishing nets. Don't anger him, awright Duchess? When he checked in an hour ago, he seemed rearin' to strangle a gizzard."
Sable frowned but, acknowledging the captain was trying to be polite to a certain degree, nodded.
Jim growled when she approached, so she stopped a safe ten feet away, though she planted fists on hips to pretend she still had control of the situation.
"Eric sent me. He wants you to come to tea as a special guest."
Jim pulled a knot in the net taut. "Tell him I'm not interested."
Now it was Sable's turn to growl. "Though it was a request, it is common courtesy to acquiesce to a royal family member's invitation."
"I'm not in a courteous mood." The sailor replied, not even looking up from his work.
The duchess seethed, her heart pounding with jealousy. "You told me only three days ago you did not want to get involved with women-"
"- your type of women-"
"And yet here you are, throwing a tantrum over the only one you can't have! What do you even see in her? What-" Sable sat heavily on a nearby barrel. "What does she have that I don't?"
Jim sighed in resignation, his shoulders slacking as he looked over the wide ocean.
"It's like she came out of a storybook. I wasn't looking for her, wasn't expecting her, yet one morning we were both in the wrong place at the right time. And she was everything I needed." Jim sniffed, turning his profile so Sable only saw the back of his head as he wiped his nose against the worn cloth of his shirt. "Heh," he whispered, and the duchess could hear the tears in his voice. "This shirt still smells like her."
"So you really do love her." Sable noted dejectedly.
"Yeah," Jim straightened visibly. "And I venture to think she loves me too. But she's got this whole contract thing going on linked to marriage to your cousin, and if she doesn't go through with it something bad's gonna happen to her. I didn't get the specifics. I won't interfere, but I can't get involved any further. I can't-" Jim's jaw clenched as his profile came back into view. His eyes were dry. "-I won't watch her leave me."
"Why are you telling me all this?" Sable raised a prim eyebrow.
Jim smirked. "Because you can't keep your mouth shut. You tell someone, my feelings leak out, the whole wedding is thrown into scandal and Ariel and I have a chance to sneak away." He went back to his work. "Simple, really."
Sable growled again, angry that he knew her so well. Then she realized what he was doing. "You don't want me to tell anyone, do you?"
The sailor raised his thick eyebrows indifferently. "Is that what I said?"
"You know I would do anything to keep you for myself-"
"-you're shameless, you know that?"
"- and so you told me your scheme to make sure I didn't fulfill it." Sable clenched her teeth. "To protect that stupid girl." Jim smirked again. "But, then why did you tell me anything in the first place?"
Jim threw the net he'd been making aside and used a barrel as leverage to heft himself into his wheelchair. "I dunno. I guess I just needed someone to vent to." He threw her a lopsided smile that made her heart skip a beat. "And I hoped my confession would give you nightmares."
Sable sneered so that her canines were exposed. "You come to tea or I spend the day with you until you do."
Jim winced. "Lead the way."
She hated to admit it, but when Jim rolled into the immense drawing room, Ariel almost gave an audible sigh of relief. When she had first walked into the huge room, she lost herself among all of the gold leaf and crimson drapery. The murals seemed to muddle together and made her dizzy, and for the first time since she came ashore, the air was thin to her marine-made lungs.
But now that Jim was there, even though she was among a crowd of people, being introduced to this duke and that lord, Ariel felt everything would be OK... at least, as OK as this disaster could get.
"Jim, my friend, you came!" Eric grinned in greeting, slapping the younger man on the back. Ariel beamed as well, though her smile shrunk a few molars when she remembered whose hand she was holding. True to his promise, the prince had accompanied her for the rest of the day, talking to her and trying his best to understand her with the aid of her notepad. And the princess appreciated his faithfulness, she really did. But with Jim there, staring at them, she felt like a traitor caught red-handed. She knew Jim thought she used him, and wished she could meet him away from the finery and bright lights to explain herself.
"Of course I came," Jim was saying, giving the girl only a cursory glance. "I was invited, wasn't I?" Ariel wanted to turn into a crab and crawl away. It was obvious Jim didn't want to be there, but felt he had to to fulfill his duty as Eric's friend.
"Well, who do we have here?" Sable flounced up in a black gown, the neckline almost to her waist, but the lost fabric compensated by the huge skirt and sleeves of the jewel-bedecked dress. "Oh, it's you." She said to the redhead. "You do clean up well. Who would ever know that only five hours ago you were making friends with the rats in the closet." Ariel wanted to take a swing at her, but she couldn't. Not with all of these nobles here and the fate of her home riding on this marriage. However, when the duchess swung an arm around Jim's shoulders and he didn't shrug her off, Ariel's face fell and her heart ached. "He's my escort." Sable explained. "And he'll behave this time, right James?"
Jim barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Sure, yeah." Now he did look at Ariel and met her gaze. His steel blue eyes pierced her ultramarine ones, and she gave a little gasp. Her eyes narrowed as she detected the hint of a smile at the corner of the sailor's mouth. Ariel clutched Eric's hand tighter. Jim was playing with her!
"What is it? Do you want something?" The prince asked, feeling the extra pressure on his fingers.
"She wants a lot of things." Jim said under his breath. Ariel glared at him, but she could not be mad at him, because he was right.
'I would really like a- a, umm- drink. A drink, yes!' She jabbered nervously. Eric stared blankly at her until she pantomimed drinking from a cup, and the prince's eyes lit up in realization.
"Oh, you want something to drink! Of course! Right this way..." as they left, Eric sent Jim a precarious look over his shoulder. He, too, had heard the sailor's last remark, and wondered what he meant.
Eric called for order, and all of the nobles gathered in groups of eight and ten around dainty tables set with fragile china, tiny pastries, and tea sandwiches. Jim and Sable sat at the prince's table, since Jim was the guest of honor, alongside Grimsby, a couple of Eric's close friends, and Captain Harris. Ariel was situated between Grimsby and Eric, with Jim across the table from her. She tried to catch his eye as Eric greeted everyone and encouraged them to help themselves, but he refused to meet her gaze. Ariel finally hung her head, looking blankly into her lap in dejection, until the server asked the prince, "Coffee or tea, sire?"
"Tea, please." Eric smiled at the middle aged servant. The man filled the prince's cup, bowed, then crossed over behind Ariel and began to pour her tea as well. The redhead shook her head frantically and covered her cup with both her hands.
"Madam?"
"Ariel?" Eric queried, his cup halfway to his lips.
The girl began to sign rapidly, holding her cup away from the server and pointing repeatedly at the other pot he held.
"Ariel, do you not like tea?"
"I'm sorry madam, I don't know what you're-"
"She says she wants coffee." Jim said quietly. The prince and server fell silent, and the princess stopped signing. They all stared at him. The sailor himself didn't even look up from his own plate.
Eric turned to Ariel. "Is that right? Do you want coffee?"
The girl nodded elatedly, relieved at being understood.
"But coffee isn't for the ladies." The waiter protested politely.
"It's my fault." Jim began again, fixing his steely gaze on the server. "While she was staying with me, we drank coffee. It's all she's used to."
The server's eyebrows rose slightly, but he wasn't going to argue with the prince's daunting guest. "Well, if the lady insists." The waiter filled Ariel's proffered cup with the dark liquid.
"Oh, and three sugars and two creams." Jim added, a smirk tugging on the edge of his smile when Eric looked at him inquiringly. "We drank a lot of coffee." The sailor shot Ariel a smug glance that made her blush. (She was grateful that the palace maids had taught her how to use rouge, or her embarrassment would have been painfully obvious.) Jim noticed her timidity at his attention, though, and sat back in his chair, content to watch her squirm under the uncertainty of her feelings. However, Sable decided Jim was not showing her enough attention, so the unfortunate spacer spent the next few minutes batting the duchess's hands away from his legs while the princess calmed herself and resignedly sipped her coffee.
After the guests had had time to drink their coffee and pretend not to devour dainty treats, Eric stood, tapping on the edge of his teacup with a spoon to gain the nobles' attention.
"As you all know," he began, "today, my friend Jim Hawkins has reunited me with the girl who saved me the night of the shipwreck," the prince smiled warmly at Ariel, "and she is the woman of my dreams." The audience "awww"ed appropriately.
Jim, though his cold front had been thus far effective, faltered at the term of endearment. His eyes cut to Ariel who, though he knew she had watched him earlier, now pointedly avoided his gaze, her eyes locked on her handsome prince. The spacer slumped farther into his wheelchair, glaring at Sable when she attempted to touch him, then turned his glare onto the speaker.
"After much conversation with my fiancee," Jim held back a condescending 'tsk' at the word 'conversation,' "we have decided to be married as soon as possible, this evening, before sunset." Now, the whole room broke into surprised gossip and cries of protest. Jim's glare faltered. Right on schedule. What was so important that Ariel needed to marry so soon?
"The wedding will not be extravagant or expensive, just simple and surrounded by our friends," the prince reassured his excitable court. As he talked, Eric offered his hand to Ariel, and the princess dutifully took it, rising to her feet beside her future husband. "But anything will be wonderful," the prince said, taking both of Ariel's hands, "if we're together."
Jim looked away, his heart clenching, as everyone "awwwww"ed again. His wandering eyes caught sight of someone standing at the slightly open double doors to the hall. She was a bit rotund, with cropped brown hair that had some curl in it. The woman was holding a long, white bag, and she was staring at the happy couple, her green eyes shiny. Jim watched her curiously till the applause quieted, and Eric continued,
"Now I'd like to make a special announcement." Jim felt his stomach turn like a bad omen. The sailor looked back at the prince with pensive curiosity in his eyes. Eric was smiling at him.
"Jim, you've been such a great friend since you arrived here. You saved my life and then, while I was away, found and took care of the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with. I owe you more than my eternal gratitude."
Ariel looked at Jim with alarmed wide, blue eyes, and the youth met her gaze, finding comfort in her oceanic orbs as Eric pronounced,
"James Hawkins, I would like you to be my best man."
As the aftermath to the prince's surprising news died down, Jeanette finally made it past the entryway and retrieved Ariel for a final fitting. Well, not so much "retrieved" as "kidnapped," pulling the the ex-mermaid away from the prince like she was she was pulling a barnacle off a ship hull.
Jim escaped before too many people approached him to congratulate him (not many nobles liked to talk to commoners, much less the standoffish sailor), and rolled away without Sable noticing amidst her chronic flirting with the Duke of Snell.
Jim caught up with Ariel and Jeanette about halfway to Jeanette's studio.
'Jim?' Ariel asked in wonderment, her breath catching.
"Mr. Haw-keens?" Jeanette raised an eyebrow. "Do you need any-sing?"
Jim nodded, a bit breathless himself from working his arms so hard in his flight. "Yeah- I need to speak to Ariel alone for a minute. Do you mind? I'll escort her to your room when we've finished talking." Ariel nodded ecstatically, and Jeanette nodded hesitantly in return.
"Zat would be fine. Just do not taek too long. We have much work to accomp-leesh."
"No problem."
Jim and Ariel watched as the seamstress walked away, then Jim tapped the girl's arm and pointed to a small service passageway they could duck into.
"Ariel, this is killing me." Jim said once they were safely hidden. His hushed voice was low and husky, which slightly distracted his female companion for a moment. "This whole situation is turning me into someone I don't want to be, and I know being Eric's best man will put me well past my breaking point." He looked at her, his gaze softer than it had been since they arrived. "I didn't know I'd be this jealous." Ariel blushed and averted her eyes. Jim hurriedly continued.
"So, no offense to you and only a little offense to Eric, but I cannot be his best man. You understand, don't you?" Ariel nodded. "So, I need you to... tell Eric you don't want me to be."
Ariel, who had been staring at the chipping crimson paint on the wall, jerked her attention back to her friend. He was watching her intently. "I absolutely cannot be any part of that wedding. But if Eric tells me I have to, I have to, to keep him from suspecting anything."
Ariel felt like crying, but she wasn't sure why. 'Why?' She asked.
Jim flushed. "You know very well why." He said, a bit irritably. "I have- feelings for you."
'No,' Ariel blushed more crimson than the wall. 'I mean, why are you doing all of this for me?' She looked down at her clasped hands. 'And how can I repay you?'
"You know why I'm doing this," he replied, taking her clasped hands in his. He watched their fingers intertwine. "And repay me by being happy." He looked up, and she pursed her lips, faked a smile, and nodded in promise.
"We should probably head to Jeanette's." Jim observed, releasing her hands and turning his wheelchair with little effort. "She'll be wondering-"
Suddenly, Ariel was in front of him, leaning forward until their cheeks were pressed together, her lips near his left ear.
"Ariel what-"
'I hate this.' She said, clamping her hands around Jim's wrists, holding him at bay. 'I hate this marriage, I hate not being able to explain everything, I hate that I'm causing you pain. This is hurting me, too.'
"Ariel-" The princess could feel the heat in his face increase against her cheek. "Ariel, I can't understand-"
'Just let me hold you, this one last time, and know that, whatever happens, I will always, always love you. So love me, please.' She felt an unruly tear trail down her face. 'Love me.'
She rolled her face toward Jim's so that she planted a kiss on his cheek before she drew away, releasing his wrists. 'I know the way to Jeanette's from here, so you do not have to accompany me.' She smiled sweetly at her companion as he rubbed the part of his cheek she had kissed. 'And I will speak with Eric.' Ariel bit her bottom lip, fighting back tears. 'Thank you, Jim. For everything.'
Then she left, and Jim sat back in his chair, head tipped back, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Don't do that," he said softly. "Don't say that. Don't leave."
Ariel slid into Jeanette's large studio silently, closing the door with one hand and rubbing her cheek with the other.
"What was zat all about?" Jeanette asked. The seamstress did not raise her head to see the response, however, so Ariel only shrugged.
"Stand on ze po-dium."
The princess did as was told, shrugging on the almost finished gown and turning to face the trifold mirror. The reflected spectacle nearly took her breath away.
Jeanette, who was trying very hard to be angry with the prince's fiancee, couldn't help but smile as the girl twirled on the small stool, holding the layered skirts in balled fists. The ocean blue eyes sparkled for the first time since Jeanette met her, and the French woman bit her lower lip, wondering if the girl wasn't a good soul after all. Then she was all business again.
"I'm- glad you like eet." Ariel turned and grinned at her, white teeth shining. The seamstress shook her head briefly, picked up her sowing kit, and knelt at the level of the dress's hem.
"Keep still." She ordered.
After a few minutes of quiet refitting, Jeanette broke the silence. "Do you love heem?" Ariel's heart wrenched at the words, and she looked down at the dressmaker guiltily.
The older woman looked up, read the redhead's expression, and nodded slowly. She stood, taking the girl's hand tentatively.
"Do not worr-ee." Jeanette said. "I don't know why yoo are doing zis to yoor-self, but I won't tell anee-one. You make heem... happy. And I can see from ze way you act around heem, that you want heem to be happy- and so do I."
A single tear ran down the slopes of Ariel's face as she nodded in understanding, a picture of Jim flashing across her mind.
"Well now, we must get you to ze hairdress-airs and like-such so you can be redee for- redee."
Ariel nodded again; she found it was the only thing she could do. Forget pre-wedding jitters. She felt like she was going to self-destruct.
Sable found Jim at the entrance of Eric's private chambers, on his crutches again. He was tapping his good foot impatiently.
"What do you want?" The sailor asked bitterly, hobbling so his back was toward the duchess.
Sable was wearing a light blue dress that reminded him painfully of the sleeveless gown he had bought Ariel (had it been only yesterday?), though Sable's was much less conservative in the bust area. She flounced up to him, her red lips spread into a wide smile that faltered only slightly at his harsh greeting.
"The wedding ship is boarding," she informed him. "I've come to fetch you-"
"I'm not your escort," he growled, and the small ferret on Jim's shoulder hissed as well. Sable took a step back, but persisted.
"But you're still a part of the ceremony, so come-" she pulled on the apprentice's arm, but Jim leaned heavily on his bad side to counteract her weight, then jerked his arm to shake her off. "You don't mean to tell me... you're still trying to get out of it?" She scoffed, ignoring Jim's baleful looks. "You've tried- how many times in the past four hours? And all you accomplished was getting out of being best man because the fiancee convinced him that Grimsby has been his friend longer, and so deserves the honor. Did you put her up to that?"
"You weren't in the room when she said that. How did you-"
"Oh, isn't the pot calling the kettle black! I heard the same way you did. There is more than one keyhole in the palace, you know." Jim blushed, ashamed for participating in the same underhanded activities as the duchess.
"He'll get suspicious, you know." Sable continued. "He'll wonder why you are so bloody against attending his wedding." Jim rolled his eyes, angry that she was right. She noticed the look and grinned with triumph. The spacer rubbed his eyebrows in thought.
"I'm still going to try." He decided. "If it doesn't work this time..."
"I'll go lay out your clothes!" Sable bustled off, mumbling about matching, and Jim growled at the duchess's confidence in his failure. He snarled.
"I'd rather go naked."
"Oh, hello Jim!" Eric smiled over his shoulder at his friend as the sailor slipped into the room. A hoard of tailors were buzzing around the prince, who had his arms lifted crucifix-style to allow them more access.
Eric's wedding suit was compiled of a white jacket with shoulder patches fringed with gold, making him look more princely than Jim, and he suspected the rest of the kingdom, had ever seen him. However, the ensemble reflected Eric's homely style with navy blue trousers and black, knee high combat boots.
Eric jumped down from the low podium, scattering the tailors with a wave of his hand.
Straightening his cuffs, Eric sauntered toward his friend, his gait proud but his eyes hopeful. The prince gave Jim's face a cursory glance before turning away again, his blue eyes hardened.
"No, Jim. You're going, and that's that."
Jim bit his lip, swallowing back anger and frustration he knew the prince didn't deserve. "But Eric, getting on a ship in a wheelchair, I don't think that's the best idea-"
"What is it, Jim?" Eric said abruptly, rounding on the sailor, as angry as Jim had ever seen him. "Why are you so averse to attending my wedding? Are you trying to stress me out even more? I already have to deal with all the last-minute planning, the gossip and disdain of the court-"
"They don't like her?" Jim asked, feeling defensive in spite of himself.
"They like her well enough, they just didn't pick her themselves." Eric ran a hand through his thick, black hair. "I can see where they are coming from, I suppose. If I were in their shoes, I would be suspicious of a strange girl showing up out of the blue to marry the only heir to the throne. I guess, being the smitten prince, I cannot see what they see."
Jim rubbed the back of his neck guiltily.
"Anyway, now you can see why I need all the allies I can muster at the ceremony. So tell me, Jim, why do you want to stay behind so badly?"
The spacer hung his head, then shook it briefly, steeling himself for what he was about to say. "Fine. I will go to your wedding." He looked up to see Eric beaming at him, the tirade completely forgotten. "But I am inot/i wearing the clothes Sable lays out for me."
Eric raised an eyebrow, but shrugged as the tailors led him back to the pedestal for more fittings.
"Fine," he called as Jim hobbled out of the room. "Whatever you say."
And the end of chapter 11.
They've both come so far, and now it all seems to be unraveling. Don't give up, star-crossed couple. /cheesy narrator voice
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