Throughout all the tribulations and undulations of her life, Cora could always find solace in one thing; and that was the gardens she tended to so lovingly. Gardens were there when she was born in the Glauerhaven castle, and flushed out with pink and blue pastel hues because there was finally a royal baby.
She remembered being but eight years old, hand in hand with her mother as they strolled through the gardens, and her mother made remarks as to how she had never seen a girl so drawn to, so a part of, the land.
"Why, if I wasn't there for your birth myself, I would've believed you just rose from the dirt and sprung up like a flower!"
Cora beamed at this, and gathered flowers the next day, depositing them in vases all around the castle to show her love and appreciation.
She clung to the young gardener, William, throughout her childhood, asking him questions of variety and upkeep, tips and tricks, begging him to identify another plant, and pick the ones she couldn't reach, until the fifteen year old became so exasperated he exclaimed "Here!" and thrust the trowel into her hands. "You do it!"
Cora was initially taken aback, of course, but she did want to try, and here was her chance! William would tell her the names of all the plants, and Cora would repeat it back as she stuck it in the ground and patted the earth around it, firmly and lovingly. She became better at planting, and she and William became great friends, to the point where she called him Will instead of William, and he called her Cora instead of Bugger Princess.
The garden was there when was thirteen, and crying over her first lost love. She sat under a grove of trees she had helped William plant, curled up in the grass while silent tears ran down her face. She didn't know her heart could physically ache, and how it could spread throughout her body like roots, grabbing hold of her soul and squeezing it too tightly. She didn't know that one could hurt that badly, much less that it could happen more than once. Will found her late that evening, when her parents became alarmed that she did not come down for dinner. She had fallen asleep under the tree, her face still ruddy, breathing still hiccupped and uneven. He had picked her up and carried her back up to her room. She remembered awakening when he plopped her on her bed and mumbled an oof!
"Will?"
"You're getting big. Hard to carry."
"Of course I'm big. I'm only four years younger than you, and you're big."
"Well then you should know you're far too old to be crying in your gardens."
"They're not my gardens."
"Has no one told you? Everything's yours."
The gardens were there when she needed distractions, when she needed to do something constructive. She could not pull out her mother's diseases, but she could yank out weeds with fervor and malice. She could not decrease her mom's fever, but she could prune and trim back bushes and trees until they were bright and ready to grow again. And when her mother eventually passed on, she ran from the funeral service to the mourning gardens, and took what little comfort could be found in the fact that her tears watered the flowers she laid upon.
Cora knew to never bring her beaus to the gardens, lest they forever associate themselves with it, and then break her heart. She would not see the gardens ruined through association, not after all they had done for her, nor after all the love and time she had put into them.
She and Will did almost all of the work, and Cora noted with pride that Will was the only man, save for her father, that was able to set foot in the gardens. She paid tribute to him and to this achievement, by planting flowers as blue as his eyes, and watering the dirt until it was as dark as his hair. She did not tell him that this was her intent, but she always giggled when he commented on how nice everything looked.
It was hard to leave it behind when she moved to Eric's kingdom. She had tried to devise a system where she could bring over a grouping of the plants in little planters, but the journey was too long and the fresh water to precious, it wasn't able to be done. She arrived at what was to become her new home three years ago, and despite the elation she felt to be marrying such a wonderful man, she could never quite forget how her heart sunk when she saw there were no gardens.
…
Finally, three days had come and gone from Eric's re-introduction to Ariel. He felt this need to be sneaky, and a lingering sense of guilt as he crept out of his bedroom, and went out the back exit through the gardens. His wife had been planting things in an open patch of land for just under three years; she began as soon as they were back from their honeymoon. She was fondest of the light blue pansies, so he took extra care to not step on those.
He tried to stroll coolly to the rock; composed, refined, but he could not manage. One sight of her, and he took off. Eric beamed as he saw that she was there. In the very same, soaking wet, lilac dress, she was there. She had climbed down from her fateful rock and waded out of the ocean and she was standing there on the sandy beach, as if she did not quite know where she belonged; whether she should head towards his castle, or return to her initial perch.
"Ariel!" Eric beamed, running up to her and taking her in his arms.
"Hello, hello!" she laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck and jumping off the ground.
"Oh," Eric put her down but did not let her go, inhaling her scent. "It's so wonderful to see you again!"
"You as well!" Ariel beamed. "I'm still in shock, if you must know. Why, when I got here-"
"Where did you come from?" Eric didn't mean to interrupt, but as soon as the question entered his mind, he had to ask it. It was far too big a mystery.
She seemed suddenly uneasy, and stammered. "W-what?"
"Wherever do you come from?" Eric repeated. "What is your home?"
She paused, then choked out "I – I don't have one."
"What?"
"Yeah."
"Then, please, you must stay with me!" Eric insisted, squeezing her tighter.
"Well, yes, that would be very lovely, of course."
"Then come, please. Do you have any family, a home of any sort?"
"Well, it's all very complicated." Eric looked confused, so she lied again. "But no. To both."
"Then, please, I insist!" Eric exclaimed, slipping an arm around her waist and leading her to the castle.
Ariel knew she had just gotten herself into a mound of trouble, but she couldn't quell the general feeling of excitement to be here, on land, headed toward a castle, with Eric! She picked up her sopping skirts and shrugged a little. She needed a bit of time to think, but she'd find a way to fix this. She always did.
…
"So sorry we're late!" Eric called out, throwing open one of the doors to the dining room.
"Oh, don't worry." Cora smiled. "You're only late by a few minutes. Besides, you're so excited, whatever was keeping you must've been worth it." she paused, and ran his exclamation through her head once more. "We're?"
"Cora, you won't believe what happened today!" Eric paused by the doorway. "I found a girl on the beach, she has no home, no family, and, get this, she's the girl who rescued me three years ago after that terrible storm!"
"Eric," Cora said calmly. "You can't possibly-"
"Cora!" Eric beamed, sweeping open the door. "Meet Ariel!"
Ariel emerged into the room, biting her lip to keep from gasping aloud. It is so beautiful in here. She had changed into a sea green dress, an old one of Cora's, and had her hair all dried and brushed out. She smiled at Eric, and moved to sit down. Ariel sat across from Cora, smiling up at her in a loving way. Eric looked like he was floating. Cora looked like she was drowning.
"Whatever happened to you?" she asked, her voice soft and anxious.
"I was washed up from a shipwreck, you see. I've been milling about the kingdom." Ariel lied quickly. It was the best she had thought up while a woman (Carlotta?) was tending to her, and she hoped that if she spoke of it infrequently, yet quickly and with confidence, no one would examine her story too closely. She would tell Eric the truth eventually.
"What?" Eric seemed suddenly alarmed at the intensity of the tale. "Is that how you lost your family?"
Ariel took this prompting and ran with it. "Yes, you see, we were all headed back on a little schooner, when we struck a rock formation so out of place. I escaped the wreck and swam to the fateful rock, taking solace upon it. After the ship had sunk, I called out for survivors, but found there were none. By nightfall, I knew I had to get back to shore so I grabbed a chuck of floating hull and began paddling back. I saw that another ship, yours, namely, was sinking, and, well, I just couldn't let you drown." It was a lie, all a horrible lie, and Ariel felt all twisted up inside for telling it, but what was she supposed to do? Tell Eric she was a mermaid, when he had just met her - and even seemed to like her?
Ariel looked up at Cora. Even his sister seemed a little skeptical, but Ariel hoped she would not question her story or press the issue, and she didn't. Ariel breathed a sigh of relief, and was grateful for the girl's discretion. She would repay it, somehow.
...
Cora noticed Eric's distance that night as they were preparing for bed. He got in these haunted moods every once in a while, where he must've remembered or conjured up something upsetting. He'd pull away from her, brooding around the castle, and whenever she'd try to bring it up, he'd shake it off like a hard hit or sudden downpour. So, instead, she tried a gentler tactic. One that would still show she cared for him, and cared enough to adjust to meet his needs.
"You know, Eric, I don't think I spend enough time being grateful for what I have."
"Oh?" Eric slid into bed next to her, propping a pillow up on his left side.
"Truly." she confirmed, nodding, and pushing Eric's superfluous pillow away. "When I was a little girl, what I wanted more than anything is very similar to what I want now."
"Which is?"
"Love, Eric. The simplest of human desires, but one of the most important." she reached for his hand, and he squeezed hers back. "And I found it. And I'm so glad it was with you."
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