Day four.
It had been four days Marcie had been here. It was the first thought in her mind as she awoke, groggily rubbing her eyes. She reached for her glasses, adjusting them onto her face, and letting her vision return to normal. She reached for her cell phone next, squinting to read the time.
She noted that the battery was getting low. Biting her lip, she turned off the phone completely, letting it go dark before her. No use in wasting precious resources, not when she could return home any minute and may need to call someone.
She wondered, briefly, whether to ask if they had a spare charger. But as soon as the thought arose, she decided against it. She hadn't seen an outlet since she'd gotten here, and they didn't even know what phones were to begin with. And at night, everything was lit with candles. She was beginning to think that this old house didn't have electricity!
"Castle," she mumbled to herself, sitting up and shaking her head. "Not a house, a castle."
She gave a weary sigh. It was difficult to wrap her head around it all. She'd never dwelled on her biological parents, but now presented with their lives in front of her…it was overwhelming, to say the least. Never mind that the biggest question, how she had gone through this In-Between twice, still had no answer. Topping it all off was the fact that…Harmony was part of this greater thing, that she was a Princess.
"What's that smell?" She suddenly said, perking up as she picked up the scent of…something flowery?
She climbed out of the large four poster bed, her bare feet cold against the marble floors. She crept slowly towards the smell, crossing the room and cautiously opening the bathroom door.
She gasped in surprise. The tub had been filled with steaming water, and clearly whatever was in the bubbles was making them smell like flowers. Fluffy towels had been set aside, as were…clothes?
"What the…" Marcie walked in, confused. She held out the clothing before her, the fabric and style similar to what she had seen others wearing.
"Probably Melody's," she determined aloud, putting them back down.
Marcie looked down at her own clothes, and for good measure, sniffed herself. She made a face. She hadn't heard anyone come in, but clearly someone must have in order to set up the bath. It unnerved her to think that someone could have such easy access. She decided that from now on, she would figure out a way to lock the doors. She wasn't taking any chances.
"Still," she said, biting her bottom lip, eyeing the tub again. "Cleaning up wouldn't be the worst thing…"
An hour later, short red hair wet and brushed through (who would think to leave a hairbrush?), she stared at herself in a full-length mirror. The dress was long, longer than any dresses she'd ever worn, hitting just below her ankle. The fabric was stiff and felt new, like it had hardly ever been worn or washed. Marcie twisted in it, trying to make herself feel comfortable.
After a moment, she gave up, and pulled on her pink jacket, as the dress sleeves only covered her upper arms. She felt for the map in one pocket, a sense of relief washing over her. On a whim, she pulled at a loose string coming out from her sleeve, ripping it out and creating a wide hole.
She winced, having not thought that plan through. The cold weather would be setting in soon; she knew better than to be so careless with her clothes.
"Nothing I can do now," she muttered, shoving the string back into her pocket.
Ariel was not patient.
One of the absolute worst things for her was simply waiting. Waiting made her anxious. Anxiety made her unable to be still. She kept fidgeting, nervously tugging at her hair, unable to decide if it was better left up or down. It certainly didn't help that she couldn't go for a long ride to soothe her nerves—doctor's orders about not injuring her ribs or wrist further. Although the pain in both had subsided quite a lot by this point, so maybe she could make a short trip down to the infirmary later this week and wheedle the doctor into giving her a clean bill of health.
She leaned by a window, squinting at the sun. Her fingers deftly moved a charm between them, lost without its bracelet. Despite the fall season, the sea was calm, at least until winter storms came through. A flash of a red fin caught her eye, and she smiled, though she still nervously smoothed her hair.
"Hey, stranger," a warm voice said, and she looked over her shoulder, smile widening slightly when she saw Eric in the doorway. He strode towards her, planting a kiss on her cheek and resting a hand on her hip easily. "Heard you were in here."
Ariel sidestepped the implied question of why was she, answering instead, "Any news?"
He searched her eyes, briefly, before nodding. "Captain Raleigh says her story is somewhat corroborated. People remember an oddly dressed girl walking through the village a few days ago, and one woman recalled shooing her off."
"How did she make it into the palace?" Ariel wondered, brows pulling together in thought.
"Seems like she slipped in during an afternoon delivery," he answered, tilting his head slightly in the direction of the servant's entrance of the palace. "The guards thought she was with someone because she was carrying a bag, so they didn't question her at the gate."
"Her schoolbag," Ariel said in confirmation, mulling this over. "Clever way to sneak in."
"The only thing Captain Raleigh couldn't confirm was how she got to Elsemaine in the first place," Eric went on, frowning. "The first sighting of her was in the village, not anywhere along the main, or even side, roads."
Ariel was silent for a moment, before her eyes flicked over to the open door. She asked, softly, "Did you tell him…?"
"About the In-Between?" Eric supplied. She nodded, and he shook his head. "No. Not yet, at least. Not until we have concrete proof that's what happened."
"How are we supposed to get concrete proof?" Ariel asked, suddenly feeling frustrated. "She doesn't even know what happened. By her own account, she was walking, there was wind and she was elsewhere!"
Eric raised his brows, wondering aloud, "You don't think she's lying, even a little, do you? About how she got here?"
"No," Ariel said confidently. She trusted her judge of character. So far it had never steered her wrong, and it told her that the girl was genuine. "When she told us she was scared and overwhelmed. But she wasn't lying; what would she have gained from it?"
"I don't know," he sighed, running his fingers through his own hair, pushing it back. "This whole thing is crazy. Our daughter disappears for fourteen years and, when she reappears, it turns out she was living in Earth the entire time? Completely unaware of the existence of the In-Between?"
"Practically fourteen years," Ariel corrected, lightly. "Today would have been fourteen."
"Today is…?" He wondered, his wife turning her eyes back to the sea, and nodding once more. His voice took on an astonished edge, then softly, he said, "That's the first time in fourteen years I haven't realized it."
"We've been busy," Ariel shrugged, giving him a side glance. She clutched the charm in her hand, thoughtful. "We're trying to get to know our daughter, and juggle our other teenager, while amending the line of succession."
"After today, cat's out of the bag," Eric admitted, ruefully. He'd known that the kingdom had a right to know about the princess's return, but something about it felt...set in stone. From this day forward, the girl was no long a private individual, but a public figure. Whatever she did would be scrutinized and discussed. "Everyone is going to ask how she returned. Just like the council, they'll be expecting answers."
"They can get in line," Ariel replied, flatly, her gaze never moving from the sea. "People fear what they don't understand. I doubt anyone will look favorably at a princess who can go through the In-Between. Not unless they're looking for a profit."
"How are we supposed to keep people from asking?" Eric asked, seriously. "As it was, yesterday I had to snap at the Earl of Carlinton when he kept pressing."
"I don't care if they ask until they're blue in the face, it's not up for discussion," Ariel said, sharply, finally looking at her husband. "What matters is that she is home, she is safe, and I'm not losing her again."
He was quiet a moment, reflecting on the intensity of her answer, before his hand dropped from her hip. "I don't want her to leave back to Earth, either."
Ariel's shoulders sagged. Of course he knew what she was really talking about. "Are we being selfish? Leading her on like this? Saying we're researching the possibilities when we aren't?"
"Honestly?" Eric asked, and Ariel waited for his answer, expectantly. "The last time we tried to keep a secret, Morgana got her hands on your father's trident."
"So…" Ariel drawled out. "You think we should try to find a way for her to return to Earth?"
"If we do that, then we could lose her, forever," Eric answered, grimly. "I know last time, with Melody, it was a disastrous tactic. This is different, though. She really does belong in Elsemaine, not Earth. If not because of birthright, but because we are her family."
Ariel folded her arms in front of her, tightly, worry evident on her face. Two years ago, keeping her daughter from the sea had nearly torn her family apart. Keeping Harmony from Earth felt like she was repeating the same mistake. Yet, finding a way for her daughter to travel back through the In-Between and never seeing her again wasn't a better option. Stuck between a rock and a hard place, it seemed like no decision they made would be without consequences.
She decided to say as much, when she heard footsteps by the open door. She turned slightly, expecting to find a servant waiting to deliver a message there. Instead, however, she was startled to find the teenager she and Eric had been discussing.
She was wearing one of Melody's dresses, though it appeared looser on the redhead. Clearly uncomfortable, the girl had pulled at the neckline of the dress, making it out of shape. She'd also thrown the pink, long sleeved garment over the dress, but had pushed the sleeves up slightly to reveal her bare arms. In all, however, Ariel was relieved to see her in clean clothes, clearly having taking advantage of the bath provided to her.
"Good morning," Ariel said, perhaps a bit too brightly. From the corner of her eye, she saw Eric look over his shoulder, raising his brows in surprise at the girl. "How did you sleep?"
"Fine," Marcie answered, awkwardly adjusting her glasses behind an ear. She swallowed hard. "The bossy lady made me eat breakfast again, and I wasn't sure what to do after, so she said I should come here."
"Oh," Eric acknowledged. He knew the girl was referring to Carlotta; the housekeeper had told them the day before last that they should get to know the girl better.
"If you guys are busy, I can go," Marcie responded, biting her lower lip. She knew when she wasn't wanted. "I'll figure out something to do. Like, watch T.V., or something."
"No, don't go," Ariel blurted out, her words working faster than her brain. "We're not busy at all. In fact, I have something for you."
Ariel held out her hand, opening the palm. Marcie brightened when she saw her charm, reaching out and taking it without hesitation. She turned it around, looking at it from all the angles, to make sure it was alright. When she determined it as such, she pulled the string out of her jacket pocket.
"Thanks," the girl said, not looking up as she pulled the string through the charm's loop. Then she wrapped the string around her hand, securing it all with a tight knot, creating a bracelet. Crude, but efficient enough. "I wasn't sure how much longer you guys were gonna need it."
"You can keep it," Eric replied, tentatively smiling. He appreciated the girl's simple ingenuity for the charm, somehow glad that this little piece of the kingdom she hailed from had meant so much to the teen.
Marcie's eyes flicked between him and Ariel, wary. Although it was clear they weren't working, she also wasn't sure what they were doing. "So are you guys just standing around, looking out a window?"
"Taking a short break," Ariel corrected, trying to keep her tone friendly. "Is there something you need?"
"Not really," Marcie said, pushing a lock of short hair behind her ear. "Did you guys find out about the In-Between yet for me to go home?"
"Not yet," Eric replied, avoiding eye contact. "There's still a lot of research to review."
"Are you positive I can't, like, look at stuff too?" Marcie asked, anxiously. "I'm a fast-enough reader, and last year I got a decent grade on my research paper."
"No, it's, ah, a tricky situation," Eric started, slowly, still refusing to meet the teenager's eyes. "You should let us handle it, by ourselves. It will be quicker that way."
"Oh," Marcie responded, deflating at the response. "I just figured, you know, the more eyes, the better."
"I glad Melody's dress fits you," Ariel cut in, changing the subject with a glance over her shoulder at her husband. "I wasn't sure if her shoes would fit so I didn't have them laid out."
"'S okay, I like my own shoes," Marcie answered with a casual shrug. "Thanks, uh, for the bath."
"Oh, you're welcome," Ariel said, vibrantly. "Really, I'm sorry, I should have realized after the first night that you didn't have anything else to wear."
"It wasn't so bad," Marcie intoned, her gaze falling back to her worn shoes. "And I'm not the kinda person that complains about stuff."
"Complaining and asking are two different things," Ariel pointed out, gently. This was something she had wanted to say last night. "Eric and I don't want you to feel like you can't ask, should you need anything."
"But I never need anything from anyone," Marcie said automatically, head jerking up and blinking. "I can always figure it out."
"There's no shame in asking for help," Eric answered, inclining his head slightly, interested to hear the girl's thoughts when she shook her head. "No?"
"No, sir," Marcie said, firmly. "My brother says we don't take help for little things. If you can't figure it out on your own, then you've got to keep trying till you do."
"You would rather take the harder path of figuring everything on your own instead of asking for help?" Eric wondered, raising a brow. "When were you taught that lesson?"
Marcie straightened her spine, her eyes hardening behind her glasses. "Help is just another word for giving up. We don't give up. You only ask for help when it's something really, really important."
"No one would think lesser of you for needing a hand," Eric answered, trying to maneuver his response around the girl's sense of pride. "Part of growing up is accepting when you need assistance."
"'S not the way I was raised," Marcie said, keeping her gaze steady on Eric. "Makes you learn to rely on no one else."
"If you don't feel the need to ask for anything, that's fine," Ariel intervened, not wanting this conversation to get out of hand. "But just be aware that if you have any questions, everyone here is willing to answer them."
"Okay," Marcie acquiesced, sighing. She didn't want to fight with them, especially because it looked like she might be here for another day or two. It was difficult when they were constantly at odds, though.
An uncomfortable silence fell over the trio. Marcie looked down at her shoes, scuffing the marble floors. She wondered if coming here had been a mistake. She didn't have much to talk about with either of them, and it seemed they were as lost as she was.
A knock on the open door behind her made the teenager jump, startled out of her thoughts. She swore under her breath, whirling around with wide eyes, before settling on being wary of the stranger. She didn't know who he was, but he was dressed similarly to other people that she had seen, apparently, working here.
"Begging your pardon, your majesties," the man said, bowing at the door. His eyes flew over to Marcie for a moment, hesitantly, before adding, "Er…and princess."
"Princess?" Marcie blinked at him. "Who, me?"
He nodded earnestly.
The teenager scrunched up her nose. "Nah. I'm Marcie."
The poor man looked like a deer in headlights at the answer. Clearly, the proper title was to be used with royalty. But if the girl was asking to be called by another name instead, what was he supposed to do?
"Did something else come in?" Eric asked, noticing the man in the doorway was carrying a bundle of flowers and a wrapped present.
The man looked at Eric, nodding once more. "Yes, your majesty. Flowers from Lord and Lady Tyburn, and this gift from Duke of Groven."
"Duke of Groven?" Marcie asked aloud, suddenly, the name sticking out in her mind. She looked over at Eric and Ariel, confused. "Isn't that the guy who would've been in charge after Melody, if I wasn't around?"
"Before you returned, and if Melody had no children, yes, the Duke of Groven would have been next in the line of succession." Ariel answered, glancing at the teenager. She had clearly done her research the night before.
"Why's he sending you guys a present?" Marcie wondered, tilting her head at the thought. "Is it your birthday?"
"It's not for us," Eric said mildly, watching the girl's reaction carefully. "It's for you."
"Me?" Marcie returned, taken aback at the idea. Her brows furrowed, and she shook her head. "It's not my birthday."
"They're not birthday gifts," Eric answered lightly, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. "They're, ah, welcome back gifts. That's the best way to describe them."
"'Welcome back?'" The teenager quoted, her tone still surprised. "But like…I mean…how'd they know I was here?"
"We made the official announcement to the kingdom today," Eric answered, cautious. "We thought it would be best after the experts' said the prints were the same."
"Oh." Marcie replied.
It felt like that was something they should have discussed with her, the fact they'd be telling the whole world she was their…that she was here. In a way, she felt almost…betrayed. She still hadn't processed everything, and it was only yesterday that she had found out this was a palace and there was a country out there.
She swallowed hard, and pushed those feelings down. She had to believe that Eric and Ariel had made this huge announcement, without telling her, for a good reason. They were the only way she was getting out of here; as much as she didn't want to, she needed to trust them.
She heard footsteps, and turned her head in time to see Ariel coming towards her, reaching out. The girl dodged the hand neatly. It was impossible not to see the momentary hurt in the woman's features, before acceptance took over.
"Gifts have been coming in all day," Ariel explained, trying to break the girl out of her thoughts. She could see the conflicting emotions across her face, and it worried her.
Perhaps they should have waited, should have had more time to walk through its nuances with the girl before…but then, was it fair to the kingdom, that had mourned for its missing princess for years, to not announce it? It was a difficult position to be in. It wasn't often, but in times like these, Ariel wished she could choose one side, parent or Queen.
"But I don't know anyone sending me stuff," Marcie answered finally, looking up at Ariel. "Like, I've heard of this Groven guy, but I don't know him. Why would people send me stuff if I don't know them?"
"You're a princess," Ariel explained, patiently. This was obviously a new experience for the girl. "People are happy you've come home."
Ariel sidestepped the harder truth, which was that as a princess, the kingdom felt like they were entitled to be included in her life. It was a blessing and a curse, presents to spare, but no longer any anonymity. But that was the life of a royal child; generations of princesses, including herself, were held to a different standard because of their title.
"I'm not…" the words died out on Marcie's lips. She struggled to figure out something to say, finally settling on, "If it's supposed to be for me…can I open it to see what I got?"
It was such a shy, good natured request, that Ariel felt herself fumbling for a response. She hadn't expected the teenager to act like…well, a teenager. Despite herself, for the first time, she felt a relieved smile touch her lips.
"It's your gift, you can do whatever you want," she answered, looking over at the servant, who hurried to thrust the gift towards the princess.
Marcie did take a step back, looking to Ariel for assurance. Ariel nodded at her, and the girl hesitantly took the gift and flowers. The man bowed quickly, and was out of the room just as fast, leaving the trio once again together.
Marcie juggled both items for a moment, eventually shoving the flowers under her arm. Using both her hands, she gently moved the gift between her hands, marveling at the fancy wrapping paper. A large gold bow sat atop, neat on the box.
Marcie picked up the gift. Wrapped in doodled construction paper, she handled it with care, moving it over and over in her hands. It was roughly wrapped, the edges uneven, and tape barley holding together pieces. What was supposed to be a bow looked more like a shoelace knot, precarious atop the oddly shaped item.
"I drew on it to make it look nice," Matt mumbled, looking at the girl hesitantly. "Caity said she would make a bow, but then she got mad at me for spilling soda on her jeans and said she wasn't helping me anymore."
"It's wrapped," Marcie said, awe in her voice. "I've never got something wrapped before."
"I know," Matt said, his gaze now directed down to the grass. "I heard you tell Lewis that people only get wrapped presents on T.V. I tried really hard."
"What is it?" The redhead wondered, bringing it up to her ear to shake. Unfortunately, even at seven years of life, she still did not have the ability to hear through packages.
"You gotta open it," Matt answered, still looking down at the ground, feeling awkward through the whole exchange.
Marcie carefully undid the packaging, wanting to preserve as many of the drawings as possible. Matt was the best drawer in their grade, and she could tell he had put in a lot of time.
"It's a…book?" Marcie questioned aloud, seeing the shape finally come to light as she slid the paper off in sections. Then, as she reached the top, sliding off the bow in the process, she could read the title, and gasped. "It's a piano book!"
"It was my mom's," Matt said quickly, slightly eager to explain the used binding and yellowed pages. "I found it in the basement, Caity said it's for beginners, and I thought, 'cause you know, you're always messing with that old piano…"
"This is awesome!" Marcie exclaimed, blown away at the gift. She loved music, but the school had cut the program years before her, and there was no way they could afford a teacher. "I'm gonna get so good."
"You're already good," Matt pointed out, finally looking at her. It was true; Marcie had a musical ear that was unrivaled. She could play most anything she heard.
"But now I can do real music," Marcie responded, pressing the piano book against her chest. It was the best gift she had ever received. "Thank you."
"Welcome," Matt answered, shrugging. He wouldn't tell her how he had spent a whole week's worth of afternoons in the basement, digging through the boxes of his mother's things, on a chance that there might be this book there. "Are you still going to the fair tonight?"
"Yeah," she answered. "I think I'm tall enough for the big rollercoaster this year."
"Adam gonna buy you a funnel cake for your birthday?" Matt wondered, knowing the answer, but still curious to see if it had changed.
"Yeah, like always," Marcie answered, grinning widely. Her two front teeth were missing. "Want a piece?"
"Yeah," Matt answered, grinning himself, clearly pleased with the familiar routine.
"Go on, open it," Eric urged, watching as the girl seemed to be entranced by the gift. She looked up at him, almost as though startled from her musings.
"Okay," Marcie breathed, her fingers gently pulling apart the ribbon, and then the wrapping paper itself. Her movements were almost reverential. Gifts were so rare in her life; big gifts were almost mythical.
"I can put the flowers down, if you'd like?" Ariel offered, noticing how difficult it would be for the girl to deal with the box and flowers at the same time.
"Huh?" Marcie questioned, seeing Ariel's outstretched hand and the eagerness in her eyes. What was it with these people and constantly trying to help?
"Nah, I got it, I just gotta…" Marcie wiggled around some, adjusting the flowers under her arm, and trying to hold the wrapping paper, bow, and box in the other. It didn't work; she lost the precarious balance and the flowers fell, landing at her feet. Petals landed everywhere. "Sorry!"
She dropped down to her knees immediately, setting the box aside to scoop up as many of the flower petals as possible, hurrying to say, "I'm sorry, I can fix it, I can…can…achoo!"
Her sneeze sent more petals flying. "Sorry, I'll clean—achoo!—when I can stop—achoo!—just a minute—achoo!"
"I think the flowers are what's causing your hay fever," Eric said mildly, causing the girl to look up at him, as she wiped her soggy nose on her sleeve. "Why don't you leave them? Someone will come and clean up in a bit."
"Are you-achoo!—sure?" The girl hesitated, worriedly. She rubbed at her eyes now, which had become watery from the sneezing.
"Positive," Eric answered, watching as she bit her lip, debating, before ultimately grabbing the box. He noticed she left the completely intact wrapping paper, and bow, on the floor as well. "Any better?"
"Yeah, lots," Marcie answered, sniffling now, but at least the sneezing had decreased. She looked sheepish, offering, "Sorry, when I get too close to flowers, I get real bad allergies."
"Really?" Eric asked, intrigued, glancing over at his too-quiet wife for a moment, before his attention refocused on the girl. It was well-known that although the queen loved flowers, in the midst of spring her hay fever was unrivaled. "All flowers?"
"Yup, all of them," Marcie answered, sniffling once more. "My brother says it's probably the pollen I'm allergic to, not actual flowers themselves."
"Your brother seems to know a lot about the subject," Eric replied, haltingly, measuring out each word because he did not want to unintentionally offend the girl.
"He's looked it up before," Marcie acknowledged, twisting her lips in thought. "He said sometimes allergies are genetic. He likes all that biology stuff."
"Genetic?" Eric replied, raising his brows, flicking a look over to his wife. She looked torn between wanting to say something and keeping this news to herself. "He likes science then?"
"He likes all of school," Marcie confirmed, her fingers trailing around the box, trying to find a place to lift its lid. "He gets really good grades, even though he plays football. I think he likes photography most of all though, he's always taking pictures."
"Interesting," Eric intoned, having no idea what photography was, but pleased that the girl was talking. He decided heed Carlotta's advice, and asked, "What subject do you like in school?"
"Lunch," Marcie said, looking up briefly with a quick grin, one he recognized as his own. Eric felt his spirits soar. "Okay, if I had to choose, history's not so bad. I like that stuff doesn't change."
"You're not one for change, are you?" Eric returned, thoughtful in his analysis. He was realizing that it was a unique quality for a member of their family: the redheaded teen did not appreciate the carefree nature of ever-changing plans. She was also the only family member who liked history.
"Change isn't always good," Marcie answered, her eyes now wandering across the room, before settling again on Eric. The meaning behind her words was clear.
"You haven't opened your present," Ariel finally cut in, pointing out the obvious. She was listening carefully to the conversation, intent on absorbing as much information about her daughter as possible, but eventually her curiosity won out. "Don't you want to see what's inside?"
"I guess," Marcie said, shrugging. She tugged the lid off, sliding it underneath the box to keep her hands mostly free. Then she pulled apart the tissue paper on the inside, careful not to rip it.
Her face blanched.
"Well that's…um…a nice thought?" Ariel offered, peering over at what the gift was. She could tell immediately that it was not the sort of present a fourteen-year-old would be interested in.
"It's a doll," Marcie said flatly, holding it out away from her. She avoided looking into its soulless, wide, unblinking eyes.
"I think the Duke of Groven may be under the impression you're still an infant," Eric confirmed, mildly amused at the toy. He recalled Melody having had a similar one at some point; porcelain, with long dark hair, and a traditional sailor dress with the kingdom's crest on the sleeve.
Marcie, however, was occupied by other thoughts. She appeared anxious. "Do I have to keep it? Dolls creep me out. That's why I never had one."
Ariel stiffened. "You never had a doll?"
Marcie looked at her, brows furrowing at the reaction. Hadn't they ever watched horror movies? "No, because dolls are creepy."
"If you didn't have dolls," Eric hesitated, not wanting to offend with his question, "what did you play with?"
Marcie shifted her weight from one leg to another, uncomfortable. "You know…normal toys."
"Like?"
"Just…toys," the girl answered, her gaze falling down to her shoes. She didn't feel like explaining how she'd always preferred the piano in Matt's basement to toys. She'd learned through the years that being anything but normal only created problems. "Like I said, we have stuff…just in a different way."
"I see," Ariel replied, forcing her tone to remain light and conversational.
In reality, reading between the lines, she understood that while Melody had toy chests overflowing, this teenager had come from vastly different circumstances. It was impossible not to compare the two girls. Melody had been given everything she ever wanted, no toy too expensive, no hobby too outlandish. Maybe… it was for the best that Harmony stay forever, so that she could have that too.
All they had to do was keep lying.
"Do I have to keep it?" Marcie asked again, worried now that she would be forced to have this thing stare at her as she slept. "I like presents but this is…spooky."
Ariel perked up, an idea forming as the girl spoke. Eric raised a brow at her, not quite sure what had triggered her reaction. "You can leave the doll here, we'll take care of it."
"Thanks," Marcie breathed, relief, and a sense of gratitude washing over her as she put the box down by the discarded flowers. "What're you gonna do with it?"
"Don't worry about that," Ariel answered simply, shaking her head. Truthfully, there were so many holidays, birthdays, and regular days that the royal family received gifts that things were, usually, discreetly donated or discarded. "But if you like presents, there's a bit of a surprise waiting for you."
"A surprise?" Marcie intoned, bewilderment the only thing behind her glasses. "What kind of surprise?"
"If you follow us, you'll find out," Ariel answered, a bit of mischief in her tone, grabbing Eric's hand and purposely leading him out the door.
As they walked out Marcie could hear him asking, "Where are we going?"
She blinked, left alone in the room. She hadn't noticed before, but it looked like a living room. It was a bunch of couches, chairs, a fireplace. This room was bright, as evidenced by the large window allowing for sunlight to reach inside. She could see the perfect view of the water from here, sparkling on what she assumed to be a clear day. For a moment, she could have sworn she saw something red in the water, like a fish's fin, but then it was gone.
She shrugged off whatever she had seen, and decided to catch up to Ariel and Eric. It wasn't like she had anything else better to do. Besides, maybe the surprise was some clue how to get back home.
"This is my room?"
Marcie felt dizzy.
At home, her room was tucked away into the back of the hall, small, but not uncomfortably so. A twin-sized bed was pushed up and underneath the things she liked, tacked onto the walls. It was a little messy, she always had laundry to do, and sometimes the guitar under the bed poked out, but it was her room.
But this was also, apparently, her room.
And this room was much, much bigger.
"It's your room," Ariel confirmed, watching as the girl's eyes nearly popped out their sockets. She was pleased at that least the teenager seemed accepting of the concept.
"Are you sure?" Marcie asked, pressing the idea. Her eyes trailed upwards; the ceiling was quite high.
"Positive," Ariel laughed, the girl's reaction amusing. "The bathroom is through there—" she pointed at one door, before pointing at another on the opposite end, "and the dressing room is through there."
Marcie's head snapped back towards the woman, mystified. "What's a dressing room?"
"Where all your clothes are kept," Ariel explained as best she could, though she knew it wasn't a great explanation.
Still, Marcie's jaw dropped at the implication. "The closet is an entire room?"
"Only if you want it to be," Eric replied, mistaking the girl's shock for horror. "We could always change it into a small study, or a studio to paint, or anything else, if that's something you'd like."
"The room too," Ariel acknowledged, looking around and seeing its faults with worry. It felt sterile and unused. What if the girl saw that too? She wanted to put on a good impression. "It was decorated years ago. We weren't sure what you would want, obviously, so it's a little…simple."
"This is simple?" Marcie declared, her features arranged wildly. "That bed would take up my whole room at home!"
"I'm glad you like it?" Ariel ventured to guess, not sure what else to say to a comment like that. She realized living like this afforded special opportunities, but she had grown up in a palace, large rooms were…normal, in a sense.
This bedroom was quite plain, though. The walls were papered similarly to Melody's, a shell pattern, but that's where the resemblance ended. The bed was nothing more than an oak four-poster, with clean, pale blue sheets. A grandfather clock softly ticked away. There was a fireplace with two similarly upholstered chairs near it, and a small table in between. The marble floors shined brilliantly, as though they'd recently been cleaned, and tucked into a far corner was…well, it was what it was.
"What's that?" Marcie's eye caught on the far corner of the room, seemingly even more surprised as she walked towards it and realized, "Are those…presents? Is that all from people just, like, sending me stuff?"
"Not exactly," Eric answered, taking in a deep breath to explain. He was hoping it didn't sound as crazy out loud to the girl. "The gifts are…from us."
Marcie blinked looking over her shoulder at him. "You guys got me a doll house?"
"It was for your…third birthday, I think," Ariel answered, truthfully, attempting a weak smile. "It's presents from birthdays…holidays…sometimes just because. Most of them you're probably too old for, but I thought maybe you would like to see them anyway."
"Wait, wait, wait," Marcie said, spinning around to look at them. She appeared perplexed rather than upset. "I disappeared fourteen years ago—"
"Nearly fourteen," Ariel corrected, earning her a look from the girl. "Sorry, go ahead."
"—and you guys kept getting me stuff? Like if I was here?"
"I thought…" Ariel looked away, fighting against the tears that were forming. She felt Eric's warm hand squeeze her own; it was painful to relive such memories. "We thought, maybe, if you came back home someday, you would like to know that you weren't forgotten."
"Oh."
It suddenly dawned on Marcie, looking at these people, at her…biological parents, that they were being honest. She told them she wasn't looking for birthday presents, never realizing they had spent fourteen—nearly fourteen years—setting them out in case she reappeared. They had probably searched for her here, because who would have thought she'd gone through the In-Between to Earth?
And she had accused them of lying in order to spare her feelings.
The thought made her stomach flip.
What a disappointment she must be.
They had waited fourteen years and she was all they got. They had expected a princess, a daughter, to return to all these presents and this gigantic room. Instead, they got Marcie, wearing old hand-me-downs, who didn't fully trust them, who had yelled at them two days ago for not getting her home fast enough. They were doing as much as they could to find a way for her to go back home, and here she was, acting like a spoiled brat.
"I—" I'm sorry I'm so stupid, I'm sorry I disappeared, I'm sorry I didn't trust you, I'm sorry I said you weren't working fast enough to get me home, I'm sorry I'm not what you wanted, she thought, as the words became stuck in her throat, "Do I have to go through all of them now?"
"No, of course not," Ariel assured, eyeing the mountain of gifts. It suddenly felt like the mood had shifted; she couldn't quite place it, but something about the way the girl was looking at her was…different. "They're your gifts. You can go through them at whatever pace is comfortable."
"It's also your room," Eric said meaningfully, sensing that something about this relationship with the girl had moved forward. "You can stay here, from now on, if you'd like."
"Until you guys figure out the In-Between and I can go home?" Marcie clarified, tilting her head to the side, not unlike Melody when she was asking a question.
Ariel felt a now familiar lump return to her throat. She pushed it down; she refused to feel guilty about the decision not to research ways for the girl leave any longer. Come what may, but this was her daughter, and she would not spend another fourteen years wondering how the girl was spending her birthday.
She took in a deep breath. "Until we figure out the In-Between and you can go home, you can stay in your own room, if you'd like. You can also redecorate, we can find another pattern for wallpaper, or new sheets, or—"
"Nah," Marcie answered, looking around the room once more, before back at Ariel. "It's nice."
She didn't want to appear ungrateful. The room was huge, the wallpaper was pretty, and the sheets looked soft, but it would never be like her room at home. She suddenly found herself missing the way her own room was; a little messy, a little small, but it felt like hers.
She wondered, for a moment, if she should correct herself, ask if she could put up posters and pictures, but ultimately decided against it. She wasn't staying long. There was no use in settling in.
"Melody's room is right across the hall," Ariel said, feeling herself starting to chatter on, but desperate to keep some form of conversation going. "And we're close by as well. If you ever need anything, even if it's the middle of the night…"
She let the sentiment trail off, realizing abruptly that as the girl had reminded them more than once, she didn't want help. She only wanted them to find a way for her to get back home. Everything else was a polite gesture, but fell short of what the teenager wanted.
"Should I go get my backpack and leave it here?" Marcie drawled out, wonderingly. Then, with some concern in her voice, "My phone too, I need to grab my phone."
"Someone can move that for you from the guest wing," Eric answered confidently, his eyes looking at the clock, before settling back on the girl. "I know you had breakfast not that long ago, but its nearly lunch, if you'd like to join."
"I'm not really hungry," Marcie replied, twisting her lips. "Besides, it's my stuff, it's not fair to make someone else pick it up. And I guess I should go through some of this stuff too?"
The implication in her voice was that she would like to be left alone. She sounded drained, like if the morning had taken the wind right out of her sails. Briefly, Eric wondered if that was another personality trait; while he, Ariel, and Melody seemed to thrive around others, the girl seemed to shrink back after a while, almost tired in a way.
"Of course," Ariel answered, sympathetically. It was a lot to process, a kingdom that knew of her existence now, and strangers who were clamoring to be apart of it. Not to mention coming to terms with the fact that her parents had staunchly believed in her return one day. "But hopefully we'll see you for dinner?"
"Yeah, maybe," Marcie said, though she sounded doubtful, even to her own ears.
"We'll leave you to it then," Eric said determinably, stepping in because he could see Ariel wanting to linger longer. "Let's go to lunch, darling."
The girl was becoming much less hostile to this…predicament, and maybe they were starting to form a real relationship with her. One small step at a time, that was all they could ask for.
Ariel frowned at him, clearly knowing what he was trying to do, but eventually allowing him to take her hand and tug her towards the door. She did whirl around at the knob, however, long enough to say, "If you do need anything, you can ask anyone and they'll be glad to help."
"Sure," Marcie returned, not answering either way. Again, she was tired of fighting, tired of arguing…and honestly, these people didn't deserve that.
The door closed behind them. She walked around the room some, carefully opening the bathroom door, and then crossing the room to her closet (they called it a dressing room?). Both alone were bigger than her bedroom back home. She sighed, walking over to a window, and sitting on the floor beside it. Someone had drawn back the thick curtains.
She pressed her forehead against the window panes, and wound her arms around her. The fabric of this dress felt stiff, not at all broken in like all her other clothes. She reached for the charm on her hand, pressing the seal into her thumb as she had done so many times during tests.
The teenager didn't realize she was crying until she felt the tears hit the sleeves of her jacket.
She missed home.
Disclaimer: Ariel, Eric, Melody, Carlotta, etc. and the setting for this story are from The Little Mermaid, which is property of Disney. I own nothing; everything represented from the film(s), tv series, etc. is/are the property of Disney. Other characters are from my own imagination and are not associated with Disney.