William was always taken off guard when people called him 'Will'. Cora had been the first person to do so, so it seemed only right she would be the only person. When he was doing his work around the castle, he would be called 'William' or 'Gardener'. Sometimes 'Gardener William', but that would be as fancy as it got. His mother called him 'darling', his father called him 'boy', and his baby sister would usually gurgle at him.

But, on a fine summer day, Macie Greenford handed over the spices he had bought and bid him goodbye with a "Have a lovely day, Will!", causing the boy to stop in his tracks and simply look at her, processing this otherwise extraordinary fact.

"Macie," he said, somehow both slowly and more quickly than he could think. "If I came back here, say, around seven, would you come on a walk with me?"

She beamed back at him. "That sounds lovely, Will!" Will.

Their walk was lovely, William brought her through the gardens he kept so expertly, and she admired his expert work. It became a regular meeting place for them; whenever Macie finished up at her father's shop early, she would head over and visit with him

The two became quite attached, and Will would be seen visiting Macie in the shop on his days off, and it was reciprocated with Macie coming to Will in the gardens. Eventually, Will plucked up some courage. Sitting in front of a cluster of raspberry blossoms, he pulled out a gold band and held it out to the girl, asking the infamous question.

He told her, three-odd years into their marriage, that that's what had initially drawn him to her, petty though it might be. That she was among the few that called him Will. She laughed at this, and said it was quite funny how they had named each other like pets, for she had always noticed how, out of the blue, he would sometimes call her Cora.

…

Eric always prided himself on being an excellent host. When guests came, whether they be friends, foreign visitors, diplomats, or people of any sort, he would do his best to entertain them and kept them in the level of comfort he himself had grown accustomed to. They would be fed, boarded, and kept under the best conditions the kingdom had to offer.

So it was almost natural to him when, at the next morning's breakfast he suggested that he and Ariel go sailing.

She perked up almost instantly, crying out "Oh yes, I've always wanted to go!"

Eric pushed his brow together. "Uh, weren't you shipwrecked?"

Ariel flushed red. "Well, yes, of course, but I never got to steer or do any of the work, and, um, I had assumed this would be a smaller boat for two," she glanced up at Cora. "or three people."

"Oh, sorry." Eric cleared his throat. "Would you still like to go?"

"Yes! Yes!" Ariel beamed, pushing aside the awkwardness. "After breakfast, please?"

Oof! Cora thought. Anything but sailing! The swaying of the ships made her sick, open water made her anxious, and the salt stuck to her like a rash. Cora had tried sailing, and swimming, and padding, and every water-related activity Eric loved so dearly, but each excursion left her miserable, sopping wet, and more adamant that she was not the seafaring type. She loved Eric, and would never dream of asking him to move to the more inland palace, or stop sailing, or do anything of the sort, but it was a part of his life she just couldn't share.

"Sounds great!" Eric smiled at Ariel, and turned to meet Cora's gaze.

"I think it'll be you two again!" Cora smiled shallowly.

"Are you feeling okay?"

"Yes, of course, you just know sailing isn't my thing."

Eric nodded. "Yeah, of course. Sorry, that just slipped my mind. We'll be back by lunch, tea at the latest. Depends on how Ariel takes to the water." He smiled back over at her.

Ariel rested her chin on her folded hands. "While I of course wouldn't know, I've always considered myself a woman of the sea."

…

Cora didn't know the fate of Will. They were good friends, yes, and they had continued to correspond once she had reached the palace, but, as often happens to friendships, the letters came fewer and farther in between. She'd get caught up in the demands of running a country, and he'd get caught up in his private life. The letters became sparser, only briefly outlining passed months in a compact page. She wasn't sure who didn't reply, whether it was intentional at the time or merely an oversight, but either way, they stopped responding to each other.

And though her father never found issue with the friendship, he did not keep Will close enough in order to think to inform Cora of what happened to him. The boy married, and kept is job with a small boost in income, as a favor to him and his family, as he had served them so well, so long.

With this boost and the almost expected next steps of marriage, Will and Macie had a child, a beautiful baby girl. With a tongue in cheek jab, Macie suggested naming the daughter Cora. Will gave a hearty laugh, but agreed wholeheartedly.

He protected his daughter with the intensity of a loving father who saw flowers beginning to grow inside his child. Will was with her always, bringing her to work when she requested, taking her and Macie to the beach on weekends, and reading to her every night before bedtime. His daughter was the light of his life, and that's why he did everything, everything, to protect her.

Everything, in the case of a warm May morning, happened to mean saving her life. She had pleaded for, insisted on going to the beach, and when Macie joined in, who was he to say no? The trio strolled on down with a picnic lunch and their heavy winter clothes, because even with budding spring weather, ocean winds can chill one through the bone.

There was a decrepit old pier that laid abandoned, and like her mother, Macie was determined to explore and conquer it. It was large, and extended perhaps 100 feet out, bobbing up and down with the choppy tide. She sprinted out, ignoring the creaks and cracks of the rotting wood, until she stepped too hard on a plank too worn, and fell through into the frigid waters. Both Macie and Will were on their feet in only seconds.

"Grab the rope off the raft, bring it up to where she fell through!" Will yelled, pounding down the pier with more force than his small daughter.

He leapt off the side of the pier, a little to the left of the hole, and swam down, saltwater stinging his eyes. Will was able to grab his daughter and kick the top, pushing her up onto the pier. She coughed softly, and he grabbed onto the boards of the pier to push himself up. He laid the top of his chest on the pier, waving at his wife, who was running towards him.

"I got Cora!-" he yelled, before the rotten wood of the pier collapsed and he fell into the water, smacking himself up on the way down. His head was swimming, but he was not.

He didn't hear his wife scream, or her frantic footsteps, as she too sprinted down the awful pier. She pulled her daughter down a few feet, noticing her breathing before flinging herself into the water and diving down the best she could in order to find her husband. But it was no avail. After a short moment, she was forced to return to the surface. She gently, gently pushed herself up onto the pier and took little Cora into her arms, crying and crying, for her daughter, for her husband, for that fateful afternoon.

Macie and Cora never returned to that beach, though, eventually, Macie was willing to let her daughter return to the ocean. Macie could only tell the child of her father, a brave, steadfast man who now guarded them from above, who appeared on the earth as the sea foam that washed ashore, mingling constantly with the other souls lost at sea, and hoping to feel the touch of his loved ones once again.

…

"I love it!" Ariel exclaimed happily, hooking her arm around Eric's and gazing at the sailboat.

"It's nothing, really." Eric laughed. "The smallest one we have, in fact."

"It's perfect!" Ariel tugged him towards it, and the two boarded the vessel. "Where are we going?"

"Is there anywhere in particular you'd like to go?"

"Anywhere!" Ariel beamed, weaving her hands through the many ropes, and stroking the sails.

"Then why don't we just head west, and see if there's anything cool?"

"Sounds great. What do I do?"

"Ah, here." Eric handed Ariel the rope that connect to the jib. "Keep your weight on the left side of the boat, and when I tell you to move, yank the rope up, and bring it over to the right."

"Aye-aye cap'n!" Ariel hung onto the rope and exhaled, wiggling her feet out of her shoes. It helped, but not much.

After a few minutes of finagling, the two were off, the ocean stretching out before them and the sun shining out in front of them. Ariel relaxed her grip and the rope and inhaled. Salt. Sea. Things she remembered, and knew so well.

"You ready?" Eric called up.

"Yep!" Ariel chipped, kneeling down and clutching the rope.

"Now!"

Ariel slid to the right and tugged the rope into its new position, reveling in how it actually worked. She had never seen a functioning boat, at least, not until Eric's floundering one. The wind flew through her hair and salt sprayed in her face. She let go of the rope and slid over to the side, sticking her feet in the water, exhaling with pleasure as she noticed the pain in her feet was almost completely soothed.

The sailed out, farther and farther into the open sea, and Eric and Ariel laughed as they sat next to each other, pointing out clouds and schools of fish, and Ariel reveling in the feel of the sun on her skin.

"Whoa!" she exclaimed as the hit a particularly choppy wave, and both she and Eric tumbled a little to the side. She slipped off the boat a little, but Eric pulled her back and kept his arm around her waist.

"Careful there!" he exclaimed, laughing out of relief. "We don't want you plunging in again."

"Yeah, I'm not too sure I'd do so well under the sea." She gave a mysterious half-smile, and Eric, again, was stuck by the sensation that she wasn't divulging everything.

"But you're doing amazingly up here." Eric said, feeling proud of her. "I would've expected you to at least be a little scared, but you've taken to sailing wonderfully, and I don't think I've seen you without your feet in the water."

"It's beautiful out here, and feels wonderful!" Ariel leaned against him and sighed. "Today's been wonderful." She cooed. "Yesterday too. I wish we could do this forever." She laid back, feet still in the water. "I do feel bad for your sister though. She's really missing out."

"My sister?" Eric asked tying off a rope and coming to sit next to her.

"Yes. Cora? She eats with us."

Eric laughed, a bit of twang to it. "That's not my sister."

"Oh?"

"That's my wife."

"Oh!" Ariel felt panic flash through her. He's married! There's no way he can break the spell now! All was lost, she was as good as sea foam. She bit her lip and looked up at him. "How long have you loved her?"

Eric hesitated, biting his lip. "I know this is going to sound horrible, because it is, but I'm still waiting to. We've been married for a few years now, and I am fond of her, but I've never felt love for her."

"Then why did you marry her?" Ariel asked softly, leaning in towards him.

"I really can't explain." Eric said truthfully. "For I don't fully know myself. It seemed right, at the time, I guess. It sounded right, at least."

Ariel paused for a second, then burst out the question she wanted to ask, regardless of its forwardness. "Do you regret it?"

"It's almost lunchtime." Eric eventually said. "We should probably work our way in.

…

Cora wandered through her gardens, and saw both her husband and his guest coming in off the pier. They were very reserved towards each other, she saw Eric say something to Ariel, she responded, and the conversation ended there. They walked maybe twenty feet away, then Ariel said something back to Ariel, and he responded. It continued in that fashion as they strolled back to the palace.

Something had to be done. They had come together so quickly; Eric was drawn to her like he was in a riptide. Though she never could doubt his faithfulness or honesty, she still feared for her marriage, that Ariel might pull them just far apart where they'd be unable to snap back together.

Something had to be done, but what? What could work, without making her seem like an insecure ninny, scolding her husband for trying to make a new friend? She needed to think more than she needed to do anything else, so she decided to skip lunch in favor of walking around the gardens.

No ideas yet, but she would think of something. She had to.

…

After lunch, after dinner, after the trio had disbanded and went off to bed in Eric's case and the gardens in Cora's, Ariel went out to a balcony and leaded against the banister, taking some pressure off her feet and thinking.

Eric was married! He already had a wife, and though he was so removed from her she hadn't even been able to pick up on their relationship, he was still married.

Her mind drifted to her own perilous situation. Were she to fail to earn Eric's heart, and his proposal, Ariel would be resigning herself to the fate of death. An existence only of sea foam, and she hardly knew if that was a life at all. But to do so at the expense of a marriage, and of Eric's marriage, was a decision that strained her dearly. She didn't want to be sea foam, she didn't want to give herself up, or her dreams of humanity, but she couldn't hurt Eric.

This decision would even be easier if he seemed to love her like a husband should. He said so himself, that he didn't love her, and though he didn't answer if he regretted marrying her, the answer did rather present itself.

If all the love in a marriage came from one side, was it still a relationship? If Eric wanted to disregard his wife, was it wrong to still pursue him? Most importantly, could Ariel exist in a universe where the answers to these questions was 'yes'?

…

That night, Eric felt his guts wrenching, pulled in two different directions by two leading courses of thought. He laid in bed, next to his wife, his wife, his wife, an arm thrown over his eyes. His mind was running a million miles a minute, and he was not confident in his ability to slow it down.

He was married to Cora, promised to her, and had been with her for three years of his life. He was sure that she loved him, and even though he didn't reciprocate, how could he justify hurting a woman who had never laid a finger nor an unkind word to him?

But Ariel was everything he had been looking for. She was built up of sunshine and sea foam, and filled in all the parts of his life that he loved and that he craved. He rolled over and grunted into his pillow out of frustration. He couldn't let his mind direct this whole thing, as he already knew what was technically right. He had to listen to his heart, and that might lead him down a path that could cause trouble.

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