If You Love Something

For the duration of a week, Alfred didn't visit him. Arthur fretted over this turn of events, his nerves taut and bundled. It was empty without Alfred to fill the void. He was still cared for each day, the mermaids bringing him to the freshwater pond and bathing him, grooming him and feeding him, occasionally tying bright plants around his wrists and ankles as they sang their wordless songs. Normally he would find the sessions relaxing, simply listening to the harmonies and melodies, but now he couldn't. Alfred hadn't called for him or sought him out. He had seen neither head nor tail of the merman, and that fact didn't sit well in the cradle of his stomach.

Their beachside encounters weren't only about sex. Sometimes he wished they were, simply so he had a reason to be more spiteful than he already was, but many visits were subdued, the orange sun setting on the distant horizon of the ocean as they held broken conversations – about Arthur's past, the world beyond the island, even simple things such as preferences in color and food. And Arthur, in lack of any true company (as the mermaids had yet to speak directly to him since the day the lured him to the beach), found himself enjoying the merman's presence; marginally.

"Where are you?" he whispered into the salty wind, aching and lonely; because now he was alone, and it was a feeling that ate at him from the inside and out.

On the final day of the second week, Alfred called him. Arthur perked up in his shelter, woven fern leaves above his head to keep out the drizzle that plagued the island often. The sound was so familiar yet a distant memory all the same. It was something akin to the hollow noise of a conch, but softer and tuned. He was never sure if he heard it with his ears, or if it was simply a production of his mind. Arthur hastily scampered to the beach, much like a young boy runs home in fear of his mother's wrath.

Alfred, as always, was waiting for him the surf, his dolphin-esque tail slapping at the foamy water, sending agitated droplets about. Arthur ran to him, falling into the wet sand before the merman, his hands reaching out to hold that ocean-sprayed face. He had been so alone, isolated, and worried. To see Alfred again, even as obviously upset as he was, was a relief on his heart – whether it was his own feeling or not. But Alfred pushed his hands away with a heartbroken scowl. "Look," he said simply, pointing out into the ocean.

Arthur's eyes followed Alfred's trajectory, spotting a small, white boat drifting just past the shallows. "Is that… Is that my boat?" he asked in disbelief, looking back to Alfred questioningly, hoping that all of this was actually real. His fingers dug into the sand, unable to find anything else to do. There was his salvation, right before him. This entire time, it was right there – for two years he had suffered on this island that he began to reluctantly call home out of despair. There was an unnamable emotion boiling in his stomach; anger? Guilt? Fear? He didn't know.

"It sunk," Alfred said after a long moment, drawing his shoulders back and cutting a rather imposing figure as he sat in the surf. "Two years ago," he clarified.

"But now…" Arthur hesitated. What did this all mean? Was it a cruel joke? Some lesson set up by the merman to teach him not to fight the confines of the enchantment? Or… did he even dare to think it, but was Alfred, perhaps, giving him a chance to be free? His chest swelled with a hope that he dared not express.

"But now it's not." Alfred's mouth was set into a firm line, his eyes staring dispassionately at the forest inland. "The magic… it only stretches as far as my territory." Impossibly blue eyes shut. "You say you don't know; the magic confuses you. It's my fault and…" A long, pained sigh. "I love you. You're my mate, but… I want your real love, not the magic's love."

Arthur could scarcely believe his ears. He pulled himself up to a crouching position, towering slightly over Alfred as he readied himself to sprint. "So you're letting me go?"

There was a pregnant pause between the two of them as Alfred's face began showing a range of conflicting emotions from grief to anger. Finally the merman nodded firmly and Arthur ran before Alfred could get out a single word. He ran into the choppy waves, ignoring the way his feet dug too deeply in the sand below and how the water buckled against his knees. The boat seemed so far as he swam desperately, almost unobtainable – like a dream sequence that ended with him drowning and waking up sweating in his makeshift shelter.

But Alfred was already there, waiting with a petulant stare, his webbed hand resting against the side of the boat. Alfred waded next to him, grasping at the emergency ladder on the side of the boat as they sent each other level stares. "I'll follow you to the end of my territory," Alfred said at length. "And… and if you could…?"

He didn't finish, the words were too broken and hopeful. Arthur's heart wrenched and he climbed the ladder with determination. "I'll find a way to tell you."

For a fleeting moment Alfred covered his hand with his own, the outer edges of his palms a shimmering light blue that caught the sun just enough to draw Arthur's eyes. "There's a lot of power in a name," he said cryptically before diving beneath the water's surface and out of Arthur's sight.

Arthur waited with baited breath, watching the temperament of the ocean waters and skies before starting the boat's motor and ducking into the hull, more than surprised to find all of his equipment, maps, and even utensils within the small cabin – most of them in functional order. He plotted his course and took up his radio, starting up a S.O.S signal as the boat began to move forward, only the occasional splashing noise belying that he wasn't alone.

And when he was sure everything was ready for a rescue, he returned to the deck, his heart heavy and limbs weak. There was a guilt that wedged its way between his ribs; it was a pain that he couldn't describe, as if he were leaving behind his entire life instead of returning to it. He looked over the edge, frowning at the dark sensation that caused him to shiver with displeasure. That damn spell…

But then he noticed, back in the distance, Alfred's head above the water, the vibrant crown a mere blotch upon the waves, and the reality crushed him with a sudden inexplicable weight.

He was free.