XIV

Ariel woke to the sound of seagulls crying outside. She looked out of the open window to see them flying above the garden and the beach. Yawning silently, she stretched her legs and sat up, before remembering what she had seen last night. Her face split once again into a wide grin and she jumped to her feet.

Today is the day. I wonder what he'll say to me.

She danced over to the open window and breathed in the morning sea air. She picked up her fork and began brushing her hair as she looked down into the garden. As she watched the seagulls scuttling about and the gardeners tending the bushes, she noticed that they were talking rather excitably.

Ariel still wasn't an expert on how humans talked to each other, but they seemed very enthusiastic in what they were saying, and she didn't often see enthusiasm on land at this time of the morning.

She closed the window to keep seagulls from getting in, and wandered back along the room as she brushed her hair, the thought of Eric throwing the instrument into the sea still shimmering in her mind.

"And he really means to marry her?"

"Yes, he's already planning the wedding."

Ariel froze, fork in hair, when she heard the voices floating nearby.

"What's she like then, this girl?" said the first voice as Ariel opened her door a crack and peered out. It was a pair of butlers walking down the corridor, their backs to her.

"Oh, she's beautiful," Ariel only just heard the second one say. "She doesn't say much though."

Unable to make out any more words, Ariel closed the door.

He wants to marry me? He wants to marry me!

She backed away from the door, hands over her mouth. They fell away for more silent but happy laughter, and she rushed to the mirror to sort her hair out. Her nightdress seemed fine, she had no time to get dressed right now.

Once her hair was as smooth and tidy as she could make it, Ariel rushed for the door. She flew down the corridor to the stairs and ran down them as fast as she could.

Ariel heard voices coming from the main hall. She headed towards them and found herself at the top of the steps leading down to the hall.

Before she could rush down the stairs she halted, a look of horror on her face. She stepped quickly behind a pillar and watched as the king stood near the windows, talking to Eric and another woman.

"I still cannot believe your mystery girl exists, Eric," he said. "Or that she's so lovely. I cannot thank you enough, my dear."

The woman nodded in response. Ariel couldn't see her face properly, only her long dark hair and deep purple dress.

"I hope the kingdom approves," said Eric, looking out of the window.

"Of course they will. My dear, if it weren't for you, my son would be dead. You will always be welcome in this kingdom as long as people know that."

Her heart pounding in her chest, Ariel retreated behind the pillar. She couldn't bear to look at them, but she could still hear them.

"We should probably send out invitations as soon as possible," came Eric's dull tone.

"Yes, indeed," said the king. "In the meantime, I'll have them ready the wedding ship. You can be married on the ocean at sunset."

Gripping her hair tight in one hand and covering her mouth with the other, Ariel screwed her eyes up to stop the tears. The king and the prince were still talking. She clutched her head and tried to block her ears. Her open mouth would have cried out if it could, but her pain was as silent as her laughter had been.

She couldn't stay here listening to them, she had to leave. Hair strewn over her face and tears welling in her eyes, she ran for the door. She left the hall unheard by anyone, not even Eric.

XV

"She's marrying the sailor?"

The image of the king, the prince and the sea witch faded from the glass. Regina saw her own confused face for a split second, and then the face of the magic mirror.

"So it would seem," the mirror said grimly. "And on a ship at sunset, how romantic."

"It's sickening," she said bitterly.

"Exactly what deal did you make with her, Your Majesty?"

"I didn't," said the queen irritably, pacing up and down the room. "I told her I wanted her help to catch Snow White. I offered her all kinds of things, but there was only one thing she wanted: another mermaid's voice."

"And how does one obtain a voice?" asked the mirror.

"You tell me." Regina turned and glared at him. "Don't you think if I knew that, I'd have the ashes of Snow White's heart in my palm right now?"

The mirror remained silent, and Regina continued to pace.

"This is Rumplestiltskin's doing," she muttered, remembering her last conversation with the imp.

"I have a deal to discuss. A certain … mermaid."

"I'm not dealing today."

"I needed his help to get that mermaid what she wanted," she said. "But he was so hung up on his housemaid, I decided to wait … I didn't think he'd just find her and make the deal himself."

"That sounds exactly like something Rumplestiltskin would do," said the mirror.

"But what could he want from that fish – octopus – whatever she is, that I can't give him?"

"Perhaps we've just seen what he wants. The son of King Christian is a precious commodity."

"Oh, please. What use does he have for Prince Edward?"

"His name is Eric."

"Who cares?" she shouted. "It makes no sense!"

The mirror fell silent again and Regina continued to pace. If only she'd known how to get that voice for Ursula. Clearly, Rumplestiltskin must have known how to get it, but why ask her to marry the prince?

Maybe he didn't ask for that. Maybe she wanted to marry him anyway. But why does she need the voice like a bell to do that?

"If she needs another voice," said the mirror after a minute, "it must be for some sort of disguise. What other explanation could there be?"

The evil queen faced the mirror once more, a sly grin creeping onto her face.

"Yes," she said with relish as she considered it. "And if that disguise were to be ruined, if her cover was blown …"

Her grin became a smirk, and the mirror did the same.

"I guess I'll have to have another little talk with her, see if she's open to another deal. And now she has a prince on her arm, it might make capturing Snow White even easier."

"Well, you know where she is," said the mirror's smirking face.

"Indeed I do," she said.

Regina turned from the mirror, and the face vanished to leave a reflection of the chamber.

"Guards!" she called, and two of them hurried into the room. "Have them prepare the carriage. I have a wedding to attend."

XVI

With a heavy heart, Eric knocked on the door.

"Hello? It's me, Eric. Are you in there?"

Behind the door, he could hear her moving. He listened closely for her approach, but she didn't come to the door.

"I have something to tell you. It's, uh, exciting news, I thought you should know."

He wanted nothing less than to tell the silent girl his news. But it was the right thing to do, and better sooner than later.

The girl came to the door and opened it ever so slowly. Seeing her face made things ten times harder. Behind her false smile, her eyes were pink from tears. Had she already heard about Vanessa from someone else? Eric wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

"Can I come in, please?"

She nodded and stepped aside. Eric closed the door behind him and turned to her. She was still in her nightdress, her red hair messy on one side, standing in bare feet. He could almost think she looked much as she had appeared when they met – but she didn't. A woman transformed, she wasn't her usual happy self at all. Her usual delighted grin had been replaced with a weak smile.

"Okay, here it is. The girl who rescued me is here. The one who took me back to land from the shipwreck. I'm sure it's her. She sounds just like her, and she sang the same song and …"

He stopped himself before he could make more excuses.

She doesn't care how I know it's my rescuer.

"I decided I would ask her to marry me, if I ever found her. I owe her my life, I have to repay her somehow. So …" His hands in his pockets, he gripped the flute once more. "I asked her, and she said yes. We're engaged to be married."

The girl was no longer trying to smile. Eric made no effort to, either. He took his hands from his pockets again, almost reached for her hand, and stopped. Instead he clasped them together until it hurt, almost as if to beg. Beg for what, though? For her forgiveness? For a way out? For her to marry him instead?

She shook her head, her eyes welling up, and pointed frantically at herself.

"You? You?" Eric was sure what she meant. Marry me, marry me …

"I can't," he said weakly. "I have to do this. I had to make a choice while I had one. Whatever I chose would have had a price, and …"

And you are my price.

"… and a time limit. If I don't take this chance, it might disappear forever. And then I'll always regret it. I just hope I'm making the right choice."

She looked as though she were about to explode into tears. Giving up on pointing at herself, she opened her mouth to talk. No words came out, though she tried with all her might. Eric was sure that if she could talk, she would be screaming. He tried to read her lips, but couldn't make sense of them. The only word he recognised for sure was me.

"I'm sorry. I don't know what you're saying."

She closed her mouth, and her lip trembled. If he could only hear her voice once, if he could only know her name … Eric held out his hand, and she took it. Stroking her soft skin with his thumb, he brushed her hair out of her face.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Eric didn't dare move his legs, his knees were so weak. He didn't trust himself not to fall to them, still clutching her hand, and ask to be with her instead. He saw himself doing it over and over in his head, but each time he did he knew it would be wrong. Then he would repeatedly ask himself why, and repeatedly answer …

You're promised to Vanessa now. You owe her your life. This is what you wanted. You're just scared. It's for the best. The sweet silent girl will be okay in the end …

"But we'll be okay," he said, putting on a brave smile. "You and I can be happy. I can find happiness with Vanessa, and you … you'll be fine."

She merely looked into his eyes, defeated. Eric couldn't bear to imagine her with another man, nevermind promise that she'll find one. But with a face like that, he felt certain she would. He just hoped she could find someone worthy of her.

"Anyway, I have to go … help with the preparations."

His legs didn't seem to want to move. She nodded slowly, clearly fighting hard to keep back her tears.

"I just had to come and tell you, and – and invite you to the wedding. If you want to come, that is. If you don't, I understand."

She let go of his hand and stepped back. Eric wasn't sure why he asked – of course she didn't want to come. He didn't even think he wanted her to come.

"Well, you're welcome to come if you do. Apart from that …" He sighed, and stepped steadily back, trying to regain the feeling in his legs. "I'm sorry."

Never had walking been so hard as when Eric turned to the door and left the room. He wanted nothing more than to stay in that room forever, to spend a silent lifetime in there and only marry Vanessa when it was nearly his time to die.

But he felt sure that, in any lifetime, he would never forget the look on the silent girl's face.

XVII

The rainbow-coloured ripple of light spread out over Storybrooke, whipping through all its inhabitants as the curse was broken. Struck by the power of true love, their memories returned to them in an instant.

Edward Collin, the fishmonger, only saw the ripple approaching his stall for a moment before it washed over him. He staggered back from his fish, his hair blew back as if hit by a breeze, and before it had settled back down his eyed were wide with shock. His breathing was suddenly as deep as if he had surfaced from the sea, having almost drowned.

He stumbled out from behind his stall and looked wildly around. The few others on the docks were doing the same thing he was. No one with red hair, though.

I remember. I remember everything.

His hand slipped to his pocket. The flute was not there. Of course it wasn't.

The shipwreck. The wedding. My father. The Queen …

And that face. That beautiful face. And that voice. Eric racked his brains to see if he remembered seeing her or even hearing her in Storybrooke. Many, many, many memories swam about in his head – memories that were at once old and new – but none from his life here, as Edward Collin. Only memories from when he was Prince Eric, before he was cursed.

Did she escape? No. No one could have escaped it. She must be somewhere.

He half walked, half ran from the docks into the town.

This is all my fault. I was so stupid, it's all my fault.

Eric groaned as he looked at the people wandering by. Confused, scared, grief-stricken, but none with eyes blue as water and hair red as flame.

"Where are you?" he muttered. "Where are you, Ariel?"