This isn't edited, and so I apologise. Nonetheless, enjoy.
Ariel's heart took a shuddering breath as Eric's smile dazzled down on her, his hand fitting into hers, the other coming to rest on her hip.
"You look beautiful," he whispered, his head angled down into their own little circle of conversation, private to a prince and his princess. "I trust the new lady-in-waiting was well suited?"
She nodded as her skirts swirled about her ankles and the graceful wing of music brushed against her chattering nerves. "Yes. She was lovely," she said, making sure to keep her smile tight and content, lest the other dancers among them think something different.
"Ariel..." Eric said, and Ariel knew enough about people—whether or not they had fins—to know that the uncertain dip in his voice was something to be wary of.
She cocked her head up, bearing her teeth so far she was sure she looked as if she was about to swallow him whole. "Yes, darling?"
He stepped out of the tune for a mere moment, to brush back the stray ruby locks that were settling around her cheeks. "Ariel, I'm concerned for you."
Her smile cracked. "Hmm?"
"I'm concerned. When I found you out on the balcony—you were so pale, and small, and I thought maybe you were ill. But then you sprung back to life, and insisted you were fine..." he said.
Her eyes darted around, to see if anyone had begun to suspect the hushed conversation. "But I am fine." She said, doing her best to frown at him.
He sighed. "I don't think you are, Ariel. I know you haven't been at the castle very long, and you never talk to me, about any of this."
She felt a hot feeling start to swarm beneath her skin. "About any of what? I was not aware there was anything to talk about."
His warm, exasperated breath hit her collarbone and he spun her under his arm before saying anything else, "Ariel, please. It's me."
"I don't..." she said in a small voice, until it decided to halt and crawl back under her tongue.
He suddenly stopped dancing, causing her legs to stutter against his, her body lurching forward for the half second before she caught herself. "Ariel,"
She had wanted people to call her by her real name. But she had overlooked him, and just how much real things could hurt. The way he said it, that thing behind his voice, was too real for her too handle all at once.
So when he'd pulled away from her and stalked off the dance floor, she had been expecting it.
And the small princess was left alone on the grand floor, dozens of eyes embracing her all at once, like sewing needles rising up from their handiwork and turning in on her all in one instant. But she didn't register this until later, and for now, she was left blinking in the wake of her beloved, a sea of people carving a path for his anguish.
XXX
It felt strange, wandering through empty hallways through the journey to her husband's quarters.
She was used to everything buzzing, alive with laughter and voices and smiles. She was used to sharpened colours, bright glittering hues kissing every spot of land.
She wasn't used to the quiet.
When she arrived at his door, she adjusted her headband and smoothed out wrinkled sleeves. And she stood there for a moment, wavering, before finally pressing her pale knuckles to Eric's door.
There wasn't any answer, and she was considering knocking again when at last, an unhappy voice floated out to her.
"It's open."
She slipped inside, shutting the door softly but tightly behind her. She turned to press her back against it and stare at her husband, sitting on his large bed and looking out of his almost as large windows which glanced out onto the palace gardens.
It was then she realised that hers overlooked the sea.
"Eric?" she said in her small voice.
He was wringing his hands. "Yes, Ariel?"
"I came to see if you were alright."
"I appreciate it, Ariel," he said, but didn't turn to look at her. "I'm pleased we can talk so freely."
His words nested under her skin and bloomed painful and sharp.
"Perhaps you have forgotten that you can talk freely, Ariel. To me." He rustled in his spot. "I understand your reservations around the staff and guests, but I do not understand them around me."
Maybe he was right. Maybe she had forgotten that he was the one she could turn to, and there would never be any consequences from doing so. Maybe she had forgotten that he wasn't just another painted face and tight body to be fed meaningless pleasantries.
Maybe she had forgotten her love for him.
After another moment of standing still, she strode across the room to stand in front of him, so he could not avoid looking at her.
"I'm sorry, Eric." She said, and reached out to steady the hands that were fidgeting on his lap. "I'm sorry."
He ran his fingers over her knuckles. "I know you are, Ariel."
"I'm not convinced you do." She said and settled down beside him.
"Ariel, I know you miss your family—"
She shook her head. "That isn't it. I do miss them, a great deal, but that isn't it. Not completely."
He looked up at her. "Then what is it?"
She sighed and brought her fingers across her forehead. "I don't like the palace, Eric."
He blinked at her, confused.
She looked down at an unravelling length of lace on her dress. "Things are too different."
He just breathed, long and low, and leant his head against her shoulder, finding some way to fit perfectly against the crook of her neck.
Not one more word.
He just breathed.