Marcie had seen a show years ago that explained how some places walked cattle outside so they didn't become anxious. She didn't remember what the result of the documentary was, but it had left a deep impression on her, so much so that she decided to be a vegetarian, like Teresa Mackley, only not as weird. She stuck to it, too.
For a whole hour, at least.
Summer was a tough time to pass on the grill.
She recalled this while on a long drive under drizzly, gray clouds. She kept staring out the window, unable to determine where this carriage was heading, though it felt like they were driving around in circles. She wondered, idly, if like cattle, the drive was supposed to make her less anxious.
From the corner of her eye, Marcie could tell that Ariel was chewing on a thumbnail. She'd done that over a month ago as well, when they'd been discussing her handprints. She recognized now that it had to be nerves.
"You shouldn't do that, you know," Marcie intoned, tearing her eyes from the window, to look at Ariel. "Bite your nails. It's how you get sick."
"It's a bad habit," Ariel acknowledged, somewhat surprised, because in the last hour the teen had not so much as uttered a word to her. She dropped her hand to her lap, sighing helplessly. "I've never been able to break it. It's the first thing my oldest sister always mentions when I see her."
"She's right," Marcie answered, seriously, before frowning, muttering to herself, "I really don't like when older siblings are right."
"I'm the youngest of seven," Ariel said, almost weary at the thought. "I don't think I've ever been right, even when I was right."
Marcie gave a low whistle. "Seven's a lot of kids."
"It was," Ariel agreed, "But my oldest sister functioned more like a parent, most of the time, and the four youngest were where most the mischief came from."
"Adam says redheads are always trouble, but I think that's just because no one but Caity would ever wanna date him." Marcie responded, snorting at the idea. "I mean, here I get into trouble, but it's only for stuff I didn't know is trouble. I'm not usually bad."
Ariel paused, assessing the girl's words, before correcting, "Not bad. Only…"
She searched for the right word, unable to grasp exactly what she wanted to express. Adventurous came to mind when she thought of how the girl had climbed high. But then, the girl also argued with Lady Denshire and refused to apologize. And not to even mention how she always seemed to worry about upsetting others. "Spirited?"
"Spirited," Marcie repeated, trying the word out. It was better than 'bad', but she was unconvinced that it fit. She decided to change the topic, asking instead, "This place we're going, is it always this faraway?"
"Shouldn't be too much further," Ariel assured the girl, before biting her lip, cautious about her next statement. She felt like a child asking another to play. "I was hoping, since you were free, and I was free, that maybe you wouldn't mind a girls' day?"
"A girls' day?" Marcie's eyes expressed her confusion, and her tone matched.
"You know, a day for us to, I don't know, spend time together? One on one?" Ariel tried, struggling to put into words her reasoning.
Marcie's confusion turned into a funny look. "How come we'd do that?"
"So we can…talk?" Ariel guessed, helplessly. "We never really get to spend quality time together, just the two of us. I wanted to get to know you better, to talk to you."
"Talk to me about what?" Marcie questioned, wary now, not sure if she wanted to talk.
"Anything you'd like." Ariel answered, without missing a beat. She was infinitely interested in the girl, and after all, she'd been home for over a month. She considered it about time she really started get to know her daughter. "Whatever you're curious about. Your favorite cookie?"
"Oatmeal raisin." Marcie said quickly, still unconvinced that she'd want to be answering questions. She decided to turn the tables on Ariel instead. "Okay, I've got a question for you."
Ariel's eyes lit up with excitement. She struggled to keep herself calm, as she knew the girl tended to clam up at overreactions. "Yes?"
"How come you never drive? You didn't drive out to that farm town, and now you're not driving again." Marcie wondered, tilting her head slightly, crossing her arms over her chest.
That threw Ariel for a loop. Well, if it was what the girl wanted to know, she might as well be honest. She explained, coyly, "I go too fast. It makes everyone nervous."
"In January, I take driver's ed, but the rule is if we speed in the parking lot, they'll give us detention for two weeks," Marcie responded, her guard slipping as she grinned, the memory of permission slips handed out and the electric anticipation momentarily taking over her.
The memory faded, though, and her smile fell. She wanted to ask Ariel if she'd be home by January, at the longest possible date, but pulled back the question. They were happier when she didn't bug them about getting home all the time.
Instead, she pushed her sadness down, determining that she would deal with it later. "Where'd you move from? You know, when you came here, where'd you come from?"
Ariel tried not to look too surprised. Still, it was another question she hadn't been expecting, especially after it seemed she had inadvertently touched on one of the teen's sore points. "Far away."
Marcie's brows pulled low. "That's not a real answer."
"You have a point," Ariel acquiesced, sighing, her eyes shifting to her lap for a moment as she considered that maybe this was the right time to tell the girl about Atlantica. After all, when would there be a better time? And it wasn't like she was trying to keep it a secret; she'd been waiting to tell Harmony when she was ready. Well, maybe this was the moment. "I was born in another kingdom, called—"
The carriage stopped. Marcie's head jerked away from Ariel, back towards the window, her gaze now pointed outside. She fiddled with her bracelet, the only clear sign that she was nervous and unsure of where she was. A large part of her desperately hoped they'd made it back to the woods she'd landed in, and this was where Ariel said goodbye.
The coach door opened, and the man who'd been driving was standing there. He gave a short bow, and extended his hand. Marcie didn't have to be told twice; she nearly launched herself out of the carriage, ignoring his hand completely, and landing sturdily on her sneakers.
Ariel looked after her, almost forlorn for a moment. They'd been bonding, or, at least, it seemed like it, and then it was over. Harmony could hardly have waited to be away from her.
She pushed away her disappointment, and steeled herself. She would not let those kinds of thoughts ruin today. She took the carriage driver's hand, using it to steady herself as she took the step down to the ground.
The first thing she noticed was the teenager scrutinizing the large, almost all glass windowed building before them, relief in her face, and maybe even delight? That wasn't what Ariel was expecting, but she was definitely happy if the girl was happy.
"Well?" Ariel asked, as though unveiling a surprise, eager for her daughter to share in her joy.
Marcie pulled her eyes from the building before her, and looked over at Ariel. "Huh?"
"What do you think?" Ariel expanded upon her original question, still enthusiastic.
"It's a mall, right? We're going to the mall?" Marcie guessed, cracking a smile, tentatively. Finally, finally something she was familiar with. "I knew this place couldn't be completely different."
Ariel froze, the bubbling excitement in her screeching to a halt. "A…mall?"
"For window shopping," Marcie supplied, her tentative smile growing bigger. "Can we get food court pizza and giant sodas?"
"No, this isn't — we're not — this is the Royal Greenhouse," Ariel corrected, worried. She wasn't sure what the teen was referring to, but she had a dreadful inkling, from her description, that the girl was mistaken. "I thought…I assumed…"
Marcie blinked once. Then again. She felt her face heat up, embarrassed. She dropped her head. "Right. Sorry. Stupid mistake."
"No, it's my fault," Ariel tried to remedy, grimacing. She had thought because the girl knew so much about farming, this would be a terrific surprise. Clearly, she was wrong. Whatever the girl had confused the greenhouse with, it had sparked joy in her. "But if you want to go shopping instead we can—"
Marcie clenched her fist. She would not cry, even if the drizzling rain would disguise her tears. "Nah, don't worry 'bout it."
"It's really not a problem," Ariel tried again, reaching out to try and squeeze the girl's shoulder in a comforting way. "We can go to the village instead and—"
Marcie turned her shoulder, crossing her arms over her chest, still refusing to look up. Ariel's hand fell, along with her face. They'd been so close.
"I said, forget it," Marcie snapped, her tone a sharp rebuke.
Ariel took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. She wanted to say something, but was unsure what, if anything, would help. Ultimately, she felt her shoulders drop, disappointed.
"It's warmer, inside," Ariel finally broke in, after a too long moment of silence. If her daughter heard her, she did a terrific job pretending she didn't, not bothering to acknowledge the statement.
Ariel winced, and tried again. "I know it's not a…a...but it's still interesting. I guarantee you'll enjoy it."
"Yeah," Marcie answered, her voice tightly controlled. She did not let the crushing disappointment into her tone at finally finding something familiar in this place; that's not what Ariel wanted to hear.
Ariel sighed. At least that this time she got an answer, however noncommittal it was. Marcie rubbed at her arms, awkwardly, cold and also unsure what to say.
Ariel took notice. She held back her motherly "I-told-you-you-would-be-cold" that would have reminded the girl that before they had headed out, she'd been offered a cloak, and had refused it. Instead, she tilted her head towards the building. "Let's go in."
Marcie dragged after her, taking her time, admiring the muddy dirt road. The town had cobblestone streets, and although she didn't recognize where they were, she knew they'd travelled long enough that they weren't in town.
The stone stairs were slippery from the rain. She focused on not falling. She lifted her eyes up, briefly, just to see Ariel a few steps ahead. Someone was holding a large wooden door open. Ariel turned back to see if the teen was still following, and Marcie swallowed hard, forcing a grin. Ariel brightened at the sight, clearly not realizing it was not genuine, and smiling too enthusiastically back. When Ariel turned back around, Marcie's smile disappeared.
"Your majesty," a voice greeted, and then, surprised, adding, "And Princess… Harmony!"
"Lydia," Ariel responded, amiably. "I hope you don't mind. I thought it might be nice for Harmony to see the Royal Greenhouse."
"Of course not, your majesty," the woman responded, dipping into a polite curtsey. "Do you garden too, Princess?"
Marcie ducked into the building, finally entering the conversation. The woman, Lydia, was tall, taller than Ariel for sure. She had dirt smudged across her cheek, and what looked like a pencil stuck behind an ear, poking out clearly from the messy bun she'd thrown her gray streaked hair up into. The sleeves of her dress had been pushed up above her elbows, and her soil stained hands were visible as ever.
"I don't garden," Marcie answered, truthfully, flitting her eyes over to Ariel. Ariel had unhooked her cloak, and then hung it on a peg, its hem dripping from the rain outside.
"You said you learned to walk pushing a plow," Ariel chimed in, running her hands through her long, damp hair. She should have put her hood up, but hadn't expected to be out as long as they had. "And you had a lot to say about planting at the meeting with the Eastern Villages."
"I know farming, I don't know gardening," Marcie responded, keeping her tone neutral.
"It's similar," Ariel said, to which Marcie shook her head.
"One is growing food, which you need to like, survive," Marcie waited a moment, letting that statement sink in, before deadpanning, "The other is flowers."
"Harmony, please," Ariel said, her tone just shy of being exasperated at the consistent pushback she was receiving.
"Don't worry, your majesty," Lydia responded, before directing her attention to Marcie, sympathetic. "I grew up on a farm, Princess, in the mountains of the kingdom. Do you know what the soil is like out there?"
Marcie shook her head.
Lydia continued, smiling ruefully. "It's poor, at best. But wildflowers still grow. So, through many, many generations, we mountain-folk discovered that wildflowers can be food. Then we started to cultivate those wildflowers into our farms, and well, the rest is history."
"Wait, wait, wait, hold on," Marcie declared, putting up her palm to signal the stop. "You're trying to say you ate wildflowers? Wildflowers are weeds. They choke out the crops. You can't survive off something like that."
"Keep an open mind, Princess," Lydia winked, slipping past the entryway.
Marcie stood there, her brows pulled together. Food was food. Flowers were flowers. There was no such thing as both those things being interchangeable…right? A part of her wanted to go in as well, to decide for herself, but what if she wasn't allowed to?
"Go ahead, follow Lydia," Ariel suggested, as though sensing Marcie train of thoughts. "I have to check on the arrangements for the state dinner in a few days."
"What if I'm not s'posed to go in?" Marcie questioned, slowly. "She didn't say to follow."
"You're allowed to explore," Ariel waved off the girl's concerns. "You might learn something interesting."
Marcie hesitated further. Ariel noticed; her tone turned cautious, but comforting. "Unless…you want me to follow, too. We can look at the arrangements later, together."
Marcie's face flushed, a blush rising to her ears. She lifted her chin, defiant. "I'm not a little kid."
"I didn't say you were," Ariel replied, trying to sound supportive. "You're fourteen. It's okay to feel like you're not sure what to do."
"Em says I'm fourteen going on four-hundred," Marcie replied, trying to draw a line between how old she was and how old she felt her maturity was. "And I don't need a…it's not nice to be wanderin' around when you're not allowed."
"Alright," Ariel finally acquiesced, realizing she was not going to win against the teenager's misgivings. "Well, you can wait here, or you can follow Lydia."
Marcie chewed her lip. Neither seemed interesting. Ultimately, however, she figured if Ariel said it was okay that she follow, then she could always blame it on her if she got in trouble. "Guess I'll go in, then."
"Go ahead, you might learn something new," Ariel replied, despite herself, smiling at the teen. She had a hard shell, but under it all, she believed her daughter to be as curious as she would have been at that age.
"Yeah, yeah," Marcie sighed, wandering after where she had seen Lydia disappear to.
She found herself entering a large hall, and blinked in surprise. There were plants as far as her eyes could see. The glass ceiling was up high, and tumbling down from it were vines so long they almost touched the ground. There were overgrown rows of flowers of every variety, intertwining with one another. Despite the poor weather and open hall, it was warm, almost like mid-summer inside the room.
"Wow," Marcie breathed, pushing her glasses up her nose. She'd never seen so many plants in her whole life.
A green and white flower caught her eye, peeking out from amongst all the other colors, close to the ground. The color reminded her of something, but she couldn't quite figure it out. She found herself drawn towards it, walking slowly, cautiously pushing back her short red hair behind her ears.
Other people took notice of her, surprised, almost taken aback. The teen guessed they worked here, alongside Lydia, because their faces were also smudged with dirt, or they wore thick gardening gloves. Marcie saw them staring, and ducked her head, trying to make herself small and unnoticeable.
"Whoa!" While trying to make herself as invisible as possible, she'd neglected to watch where she was going between these tight rows of plants, and tripped over flower pot.
She gave the flower pot a dirty look behind her. Then she looked forward, and found herself face to face with the green and white flower that had caught had initially caught her eye.
With a pang, she realized why she'd been drawn to this flower, amongst all the others. The green had a bluish tint to it. The same shade as the walls in her room back home. When she was little, Adam would tell her about the time he had chosen that color at the hardware store, and Emily and Jeff had painted her room.
It was one of her favorite stories.
"Stupid flowers," Marcie mumbled, getting onto her knees. "Don't even serve a real purpose."
"Good eye, your highness," came a voice from above. "That one's the Royal Greenhouse's newest hydrangea varieties; I crossbred it myself last year."
Marcie looked up, seeing Lydia casually leaning up against the row of flowers. Her face heated up. "I didn't touch anything! Ariel told me I could look around!"
Lydia quirked a brow. "Flowers are meant to be enjoyed, you're allowed to touch them."
Marcie shook her head. "Couldn't, even if wanted to. Pollen makes me sneeze."
"Like the Queen?" Lydia guessed. Marcie only blinked at her, lost.
"Like who?"
"The Queen, your mother," Lydia reiterated, explaining further. "She has the same hay fever. It's why we began growing low-pollen varieties in the Royal Greenhouse. Didn't she tell you?"
"No," Marcie replied, shaking her head. Adam had always told her allergies were passed down; it made sense that her…that Ariel, would have them too. "So this whole place is not gonna make me sneeze?"
"For the most part," Lydia conceded, pushing off from the row of flowers to walk away. Marcie scrambled after her to keep up. "The Royal Greenhouse is the main supplier of flowers for the palace; can't have the Queen sneezing in the middle of a party."
"Isn't that annoying, though?" Marcie questioned, trotting after the woman, trying to keep her pace. "To have to grow everything special just because of one person?"
Lydia looked back at the princess, pausing for a moment, her forehead scrunching at the thought. "I've never thought of it like that."
Then, before Marcie could answer, Lydia continued forward, shrugging her shoulders, shaking off the notion. "Doesn't bother me. The Queen is the one that reopened the Royal Greenhouse and appointed me Head Gardener. Growing low-pollen flowers is the least I can do as a thank-you in return."
"Right, you're not from 'round here," Marcie recalled. "You're from the mountains, the north. How'd she even look at you and say 'hey, you're in charge'?"
"Oh, that's a fun story," Lydia said, stopping briefly to admire a leafy plant, before continuing through the different rows. "I had my own bakery, in my village. The King and Queen were in town to survey the mountain pass; they were trying to create a new road system to connect mountain villages to main paths in the valleys."
"So you were a baker, not a gardener," Marcie drew out from the story, tilting her head at the thought. "Why would she make you a gardener then?"
"That, Princess, is why I brought you here," Lydia said, stopping suddenly and waving her hand around, gesturing before her.
All Marcie could see were tiny flowers, all different types, growing in pots all around here in the rightmost corner of the greenhouse. She looked around, and was puzzled to find that the entire wing was essentially made up of these small potted flowers, seemingly having no rhyme or reason. It was so unlike the rest of the greenhouse, with its large colorful flowers, clearly meant for big arrangements. These looked more like…
"Wildflowers? You're actually growing wildflowers?" Marcie declared, taken aback. "Back home, we yank those right out, they're weeds."
"The King and Queen stopped into my shop, starving because they'd been travelling all day, and I served them fresh bread. Bread made from wildflower flour." Lydia responded to the teen, over her shoulder as she walked towards the pots, her eyes trailing upwards to the cloudy day visible through the glass ceiling.
"But…flour comes from wheat?" Marcie replied, confusion in her tone. "How can you make flour with weeds?"
"Well, that's what the King and Queen wanted to know, and six months later, I got a letter from the Queen asking if I'd be willing to be the new Head Gardener of the Royal Greenhouse, which had just finished being rebuilt after sitting empty for a hundred years. With a catch, of course." Lydia answered, pulling a pot out of its spot and spinning around, placing it on another table with more light.
"I knew there was no way it was that easy," Marcie muttered to herself. Ariel was…fine, enough, but nobody did anything for no reason. "So what'd she want?"
"She wanted wildflowers and recipes to be sold once every season, to help those who are hungry." Lydia said simply, though there was a note of pride in her voice, as though she was warmly recounting about a friend's accomplishment's.
It through Marcie off-guard. Ariel was looking out for people? The Ariel who lived in a fancy castle, who had people cook and serve her dinner, was worried about others not eating?
The teen wound her arms around herself, tightly. She knew that empty feeling in her stomach all too well. She knew the pain that didn't let her focus during a test, or the way she offered her meager plate to Adam, lying that she wasn't even hungry. Grownups either didn't notice, or didn't care, about the redhead who always seemed to forget her lunch at home, or who's lunch money was missing more often than not.
Which reminded her… "What happens if someone can't pay for wildflowers and recipes? Just, you know, hypothetically."
"The Queen was very insistent that we take anything offered," Lydia answered, leaning down to another pot, and slightly turning it. "Sometimes, that's a cake made from a recipe the year before. Other times, it's volunteering their time. Last year there was a little boy who recited his alphabet; he got tripped up on the L, M, N, O, P, but it was a good try. He took a pot of dandelions to his mother."
"Okay, but the people who do pay, where does all the money go? 'Cause these are like, fancy seeds, right? Seeds you spent time cross breeding and all that? There's gotta be people who pay a lot for them." Marcie pressed, pushing her glasses up her nose. "You've gotta be using that money to buy more seeds, right?"
"The Royal Greenhouse is funded privately by the King and Queen," Lydia said, looking over at Marcie with a level of frankness. "Whatever money is raised goes to the Royal Conservatory Charter."
Marcie looked at the woman, drawing out, "Which is…?"
"It pays for lunch at schools across the country," Lydia explained in layman's terms, curiously looking over at Marcie now, grinning slightly. "Didn't know that little wildflowers could do so much, did you?"
"Didn't know that she cared that much," Marcie said, sighing.
It changed her perspective on who these strangers-turned-parents were. Lydia spoke about them, especially Ariel, as kind and compassionate. It even seemed, from the few times she'd been out with them, that people genuinely liked and respected them.
Maybe I should tell them I'm not happy, the teenager wondered to herself, maybe they would understand, maybe—
"Lydia, the peonies in blue look lovely," Ariel's voice chimed in, stumbling Marcie out of her thoughts. She looked sharply to her left, seeing Ariel round a corner, relaxed and happy. "They'll be a standout at the Christmas ball this year."
"Thank you, your majesty, but I can't take all the credit. Someone dropped those off at the wildflower sale last winter, and we've all been working on trying to recreate enough for the palace," Lydia said, respectfully nodding her head in Ariel's direction.
"You succeeded, they came out great," Ariel praised. "The arrangements for the state dinner look phenomenal as well. You've really outdone yourselves this year."
"All in a day's work, your majesty," Lydia answered truthfully, before cheerily adding, "Besides, we wanted to impress our newly returned princess."
Marcie watched as Ariel's smile tightened. And with it, so did the teen's stomach. She was reminded of why she hadn't told Ariel and Eric that she was barely keeping her head above water; they needed her to be fine with all this, so that they didn't have to remember the past fourteen years. Anything less was a disappointment.
One thing Marcie hated was being a disappointment.
"Learn anything new?" Ariel directed her question to the teen, who looked at her, startled. Her face was kind, although wary, as though bracing herself for an answer she knew could be forthcoming.
Marcie forced another smile. It felt like she was being ripped apart at the seams. "Sure did...Mom."
Disclaimer: Ariel 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.