#{ arista triton: vanity } | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shanastoryteller · 7 years ago

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wouldn't you think I'm the girl, the girl who has everything?

so i know i already wrote a retold fairytale for the little mermaid, but please consider:

ariel is the youngest of triton’s children – the most treasured, the most coveted and protected.

ariel is triton’s only son, and the heir to the kingdom of the sea.

his mother had given him his name. the healers hadn’t had time to tell her that she had borne a son, not a daughter, before she died.

they all call him ari.

he is beloved. his eldest sister fawns over him, attina trying her best to be a mother to six children even though she’s barely a teenager. she may be queen on day – no one yet knows who will succeed her father, but she is the eldest, and clever and not a bad hand at magic. she may be queen one day, and if she cannot comfort six mourning children, how will she rule a nation?

they have many nannies, people to make sure they are fed and dressed and bathed. but it is attina they turn to with their nightmares, their cries, and their hurts. it is attina who first forces ariel into their father’s hands. “he’s your son,” she says, desperately.

triton has been as affectionate as always with his girls, has embraced them and kissed their cheeks when they come to him sad and scared at the loss of their mother. but he has not yet picked up the child his wife died to give him. triton looks down at the small babe and says, “he has her hair.”

“and her eyes,” she says, “don’t you want to see mom’s eyes again? look into his, and you will.”

he heaves a great sigh and hold out his hands, something guarded and stony in his features. attina carefully places ari into them, anxiously watching as her baby brother breaks into a huge grin, grabs onto their father’s beard, and tugs.

she wants to scream. why couldn’t he have giggled or smiled or done something else adorable and lovable –

but triton’s whole face softens and he throws back his head and laughs, the first one she’s heard since their mother died. the sadness is still there, but as he gazes down at ariel the first hints of true happiness peak through.

“he’s just like her,” he says, and when he looks up at her, she realizes she’s smiling too. she hadn’t done that since her mother died either.

ari is two years old, sitting in his father’s lap in the middle of a council meeting, when he topples forward and grabs onto the trident for balance.

“no!” triton yells, horrified, pulling him back even though it’s too late, even though one touch is all it takes.

but his son is unharmed. he’s not a pile of ash, he isn’t crying, there are no deep bloody wounds on him. instead he reaches for the trident again, and this time no one tries to stop him. he bites it, liking the feel of cold metal on his sore gums as his teeth start to poke through. all that happens is a little spark of electricity travels up the trident.

the advisors are staring. triton has no choice but to make a public announcement.

prince ariel, the youngest of his children, is the chosen heir to the throne. there is no longer a question of succession.

the trident has spoken.

if this were normal circumstances, then the confirmation ceremony would commence immediately, and ariel would be named a regent.

but this is not normal circumstances. ari is not of age, is a baby who touched the trident by accident, who was named crown prince of the sea by accident. “we do not know how the trident will react to my daughters,” he objects, “perhaps it likes all my children equally, and it is simply ari who touched it first.”

“regardless, he has touched it and been declared worthy,” his councilman says, unimpressed. “let your daughters hold it then, and we shall know for sure.”

there’s a chilling fear up his spine, because if they are not so favored it may kill them. they are of the royal line and magic blood and it will not mean to, but there is a reason he himself did not hold the trident until he was a man.

this must all show on his face, because his councilman softens and says, “we shall move up the timetable from eighteen years old to ten years old. your two eldest daughters will attempt to hold the trident immediately, and each daughter shall attempt the same on her tenth birthday. then, if the trident chooses any or all of them, we shall know for sure who shall be declared regent on the day of their eighteenth birthday.”

it’s a compromise, and one he doesn’t like, but one he must stomach. news of ariel using the trident as a teething toy has already spread even farther than the oceans, is being whispered about by the gods and spirits of the surface and the sky. “very well,” he says, pretending he has a choice in this at all.

attina manages a full five seconds with her hand on the trident before she releases it with a cry of pain, her palm coming away bloody. alana barely places her hand against it before she pulls it back, shrieking, the skin where she touched it gone completely.

triton cleans their hands and heals them, kissing the wounds even as he comforts them. somehow, he’s feels like this is how each of his daughters will fair when the time comes.

he’s not wrong.

ari is slightly less beloved after that. it is unavoidable – he is a treasured, a crown prince when they are only princesses, and even as a child his talent with magic is obvious, his affinity for controlling the power of the ocean plain for all to see.

he spends long hours with tutors, with old men and women who teach him the basics of wielding power, and then even more when his talent and intellect demands it.

but he is still a child.

“this isn’t fair,” ari pouts, clinging to his sister’s hand as she tries to tug away, “i want to go to!”

“you’re too little,” aquata says, finally shaking him off, “father doesn’t want you leaving the castle.”

he runs to the window and calls out, “when can i leave?”

“when you’re older!” andrina answers, laughing. he watches his sisters’ tails create a rainbow as they all swim away from him.

andrina is only a year older than him. this doesn’t seem fair.

he is five years old when he realizes he’s not just jealous of his sisters’ freedom. but even that young, he knows he can’t have what he wants, so he says nothing.

ari has big blue eyes and hair a brighter red than anything else in the ocean. he looks like their mother, or so everyone tells him, and he wonders if that’s part of the reason their father doesn’t let him stray.

he grows his hair long, and it raises a few eyebrows, but not too many. triton has long hair, even if it’s not the current style. ari’s is different, though, and he knows it. he spends longer than his sisters combing it each day, and loves it’s softness and it’s shine.

alana grabs him one day and shoves him into their room. he loves his sisters’ room. as the only boy and crown prince, he has his own quarters, away from them. he wishes he didn’t.

it’s bright and glittering, littered with jewelry and hair ornaments, with sparkly shell tops that he loves to touch. he wears his hair in a long braid down his back because it gets in the way when he’s reading, when he struggles to summon the power his father uses so easily, and memorize spells and languages no one else in the kingdom will ever know.

there are other magic users in the kingdom, of course, but the extent to which they can utilize their power and effect the world, and the extent to which the ruler of the sea can do such things, are so far apart as to be laughable.

“sit still and let me practice on you,” alana commands, undoing his braid with impersonal, practiced motions.

arista sits by them, “wow, his hair is the longest of us all. trying to look like a girl, ari?”

he freezes, a cold lump at the bottom of his throat. is she – do they know – is he so obvious?

“be nice,” attina says absently, head buried in a book. “you’re just jealous because your hair keeps breaking midway down your back.”

arista scoffs, but takes one of his hands, “here, brother, you should have the nails to match.”

for the next hour arista polishes and shapes his nails before painting them the same shade as his tail. alana twists his mass of red hair into several styles, before deciding on a complicated updo dotted through with pearls and abalone shells carved into floral shapes.

“this looks fun,” adella decides, and takes her own spot in front of ari. she brings over a set of pots and a couple delicate brushes. she swipes on eyeliner and paints his lips red, then grabs some of the expensive glittery green powder from that attina’s vanity.

attina rolls her eyes but doesn’t move to stop her, “that’s only for special occasions.”

“be quiet, it’s perfect,” adella says, using delicate fingers to smudge the powder onto his eyelids.

finished, they all lean back to look at him. his other sisters crowd in close, and even attina looks up from her book. “huh,” arista says, “it was meant to be funny, but – you look really pretty ari.”

heart in his throat, he turns and finally allows himself to look into one of mirrors. he raises a hand to his reflection, then lowers it. it’s so close to perfect that he wants to cry. “guess it’s time to take it all off,” he says, but doesn’t move to do so, only keeps staring at himself.

no one says anything until attina snorts, “they spent so long making you look pretty, ari. you should at least keep it all on for the rest of the day.”

he snaps his neck around to look at her, but she’s already focused back on her book. “okay,” he says, and the wave of relief is pathetic.

“you might as well keep the pearls,” alana says, trying for nonchalant and failing miserably, “they look better on you than me.”

“i don’t know how to put them in,” he says, and winces. he should have said that he didn’t need them because he was a boy, and boys didn’t wear pearls in their hair.

“well,” alana says, a small smile tugging at the corner of her lips, “i guess i’ll just have to teach you then.”

“when can i use the trident for my spells?” he asks hungrily, the dizzying power of having it so close crackling up his spine.

triton sighs, “only when you have progressed to the point where you do not need it.”

what’s the point of being able to handle and use the trident if his father won’t let him? what’s the point of spending so much time cooped up in the castle, reading and learning and practicing, if he can neither explore with his sisters nor fully explore his magic?

“you have more important thing to do than your sisters,” triton tells him, “you will be king one day, and you must study your magic. on your eighteenth birthday, you will be tasked with proving your claim to the throne, and you must also be able to wield the trident.”

ari holds out a hand, and his father willingly passes him the trident. if anyone lacking great power attempts to hold it, if anyone deemed unworthy of being the ruler of the sea tried to use it, they would be killed.

that ari is able to hold it with nothing more than a spark of static electricity on his fingertips is the only sign of his rank and status of heir that matters. his sisters have all tried to hold it more than once, and it left angry, blistering welts on their hands. it did not kill them, but neither will the trident allow them to wield it.

it is ari, and ari alone, who will one day wield the trident of the seven seas.

ari is five years old when he figure out that he’s not a boy. he’s a girl. and he wants to say something, to go to his father and demand he use the power of the trident to make him look like his sisters, to tell everyone to only call him the name of his birth, to wear pretty things in his hair and seashell tops.

but he doesn’t. not as a child, and certainly not as he grows older. he knows what’s at stake.

he can’t be a girl. if he’s a girl, the trident will reject him just as it rejects his sisters.

if the trident rejects him, there will no longer be a clear heir to the throne, and the kingdom will weaken. triton’s rule is peaceful, but not uncontested. there are sea gods who seek to claim the oceans for their own, water spirits who would snatch it away at even the hint of opportunity.

if atlantica loses its crown prince, if there are signs of unrest in the kingdom, it will be as good as inviting war onto their doorstep.

he can’t be a girl.

when’s he’s fourteen, he masters illusions.

he leaves a double in his bed, and sneaks out past the palace grounds for the first time in his life. he’d feel guilty about sneaking out from his father’s watchful eyes, except –

he doesn’t know how anyone can expect him to rule a world that he does not know.

ari does this, night after night. he explores, visiting all the places his sisters talked about and he could never go. he goes down caverns and takes naps on the back of blue whales. he rides rip currents and plays tag with tiger sharks.

at night he has all the freedom that’s denied to him during the day.

but even at night, he refuses to think of himself as a girl, because he’s worried if he thinks it too loud the trident will know, and the next time he goes to pick it up it will sense it and reject him.

ari doesn’t have friends. he has his sisters, and he has servants. those are the two types of people that are in the castle, besides stuffy advisors and dignitaries.

he meets a boy one night at the edge of atlantica, a boy with bright yellow hair and electric blue eyes. he’s an orphan, and too-thin, but he teaches ari to pick locks and steal food from the cook first thing in the morning.

his name is flounder. ari starts to bring food with him to all his nighttime adventures, and flounder doesn’t steal so much. “what’s it like being the prince?” flounder asks one day, both of them lounging on a rock on the surface under starlight. triton would be furious if he knew ari went to the surface, that he went not just once but nearly every night.

ari frowns and doesn’t look over at his friend, “lonely.”

flounder rolls over and pokes him in the shoulder, “you’re not lonely now, are you?”

“i’m not a prince when i’m with you,” he says, smiling. he can’t be lonely around flounder, who knows him better than anyone else in the sea.

flounder rolls his eyes, “you are a prince always, no matter where you are. that doesn’t change.”

“i suppose,” he says, but won’t say anything more than that.

ari is sixteen when flounder grabs his wrist and says, “you know you can tell me anything, right?”

“obviously,” he says, tearing his eyes from the shipwreck they were so close to exploring. he loves ships, and all the things they contain, all the things from the surface. sometimes he worries he’ll never be satisfied by the world he was born in, but will instead always be searching for something more. “why?”

“why doesn’t anyone call you ariel?” flounder asks, and suddenly all of ari’s attention is on his friend and not on the ship.

he crosses his arms, “don’t be ridiculous. my mom gave me that name because she thought she was having a girl.”

“she did have a girl,” flounder says, “didn’t she?”

his skin’s hot and too tight, and he wants to cry. “why are you doing this? i thought we were friends.”

“we are!” flounder darts forward and takes his hands in his own, “we are friends! and – and i’m a boy, and i would get really upset if my friends treated me like a girl, because i’m not one. i’m a boy. but – so – if, i mean, i think you’re a girl. and if you’re a girl, and my friend, then i should call you a girl and treat one like one, if that’s what you are. because you’re my friend.”

he’s definitely crying now. “i can’t be a girl. i can’t.”

“i don’t think that’s the type of thing you can control,” flounder says gently, “look, how about – how about if i treat you like a girl, and call you ariel, okay? because you look sad so much, and i think this might be why. i mean, what do i know, i’m just an orphan street urchin and you’re the crown prince – crown princess – but i think that – that we should call people what they are. and you are a girl.”

“i can’t be a girl,” he repeats, shoulders hitching.

flounder’s face screws into determination and he darts to the sea floor and then back up, a smooth round rock in his hand. “this is a shell.”

“it’s a rock,” ari says, confused, trying to regain control over himself.

“it’s a shell,” he says, rubbing a layer of caked on mud to reveal a pale orange layer below. “maybe some people would think it’s a rock, and say it looks like a rock, maybe everyone would call it a rock and treat it like a rock. but it’s not. it’s a shell. and no amount of calling it a rock will change that.” he places the muddy shell in ari’s hand, “just because everyone calls you a boy and thinks you look like a boy doesn’t mean you are one. if you don’t want to correct them, i’m not going to try and make you. but – it’s okay if you’re a girl, ari. it’s okay.”

they stare at each other for long moments, the silence stretching out to the point of being uncomfortable, flounder not sure if he’s crossed a line that he can’t come back from, not sure if he should apologize or just leave or what. then his friend breaks the silence with an almost hysterical laugh.

“call me ariel,” she bawls, throwing her arms around flounder’s neck and clinging to him. “i’m a girl!”

“i know,” he says, nearly weak with relief as his arms encircle ariel’s waist. “i know.”

that night she sneaks into her father’s room as he sleeps. the guards are diligent, but her magic is strong, and its easy not to be noticed as she slips into his room. she hovers over the trident, gleaming even in the darkness in the corner of his room. “i’m a girl,” she whispers to it fiercely, “i’m a girl.”

then she swallows her fear and places her hands on it, like she has so many times before. it heats up her touch, and for a moment she’s terrified that she’s ruined everything, that it will reject her and she’ll be left with nothing, having opened up her kingdom to attack through her selfishness.

but it cools after a moment, and it was uncomfortably hot, but it did not burn her, did not hurt her. it seems like a warning.

“okay,” she says, and this is more than she ever thought she’d get so she’ll make it be enough. “i’m a girl. but it’ll be our little secret. well, and flounder’s.”

the trident doesn’t react, so ariel takes it as agreement. she puts it back in its stand and gives it an affectionate pat before leaving as silently as she’d came.

her studies advance. as her magical abilities grow, so does her connection with the sea. she knows when storms rage on the surface, when typhoons and hurricanes rip across the ocean. she can’t control the sea yet, but she can feel it, and that’s the first step.

“i was four times your age when i felt my first hurricane,” triton says, hand heavy on her shoulder and his approval making her feel light as a feather. “son, you’re doing amazing.”

“thank you,” she says, and forces her smile to stay on. he loves her, and he’s proud of her.

so what if he doesn’t know she’s a girl? no one else does.

now ariel does her hair and make up before going out to meet flounder each night. she lets it go free in waves down her back, dotted with the pearls that alana gave her so long ago, or up in a complicated bun when she’s worried about it getting in her way. she’s pretty in either gender, and it’s easy for her to look like how she thinks a girl should look.

before, she only did it in the privacy of her room, or when her sisters would pull her into theirs and insist on letting them practice on her. now she does it whenever she leaves the confines of the castle. flounder swings her around and pretends to be a noble and kisses her hand. “you look beautiful, crown princess ariel,” he says, first thing, every time he sees her.

“you’re my best friend,” she tells him, beaming.

his smile gets even wider and he kisses her on the cheek, “i better be, because you’re my best friend too.”

she’s seventeen, and one of the most magically accomplished people in the whole sea. she steals a purple shell top that not even andrina wears anymore, stuffs into her bag, then slips out of the castle like she has so many nights before.

“where are we going tonight?” flounder asks, “you have a plan. i can tell by your face.”

“there are some people,” she says excitedly, swimming in the direction of their cave where they keep all the treasures they find in abandoned ships, “who are powerful enough, and talented enough, that they can do physical transformations.”

flounder grabs her wrist and pulls her back. he looks horrified, and she doesn’t understand why until he says, “you’re not going to ursula, are you?”

she laughs in his face. “i’m the heir to the seven seas. if a sea witch can out-magic me, i don’t deserve my title. no, i’m going to do this myself.”

he gapes, but doesn’t say anything else.

she has him stand back while she performs the spell. and she’s been casting illusions in the mirror since she was twelve, but this is the first time she’s tried to make real change.

it hurts, she bites her bottom lip so hard it bleeds, but it works. when she opens her eyes flounder is grinning and she reaches up to her chest. “no one will mistake you for a boy looking like that,” flounder teases, keeping his eyes on her face as he hands the shell top over to her. “how long can you maintain it?”

the burn of the magic is in her bones, screaming at the strain. “not long,” she admits, “but that’s what practice is for.”

and practice she does. ariel casts the transformation spell every night that she sneaks away, and she’s a girl no matter what, with it or without, but she likes having breasts and softer features and a rounder tail. soon she can hold the spell for the whole night, first it’s a strain and then it’s easy.

she can’t make it permanent, not just on her own. she could do it with the trident.

she won’t, because if everyone else figures out she’s a girl the trident will reject her, but she could. that or trade her soul to a sea witch, which she has no interest in doing.

attina knocks on her door one day, and her sisters almost never seek her out. “yes?” she says, wary. attina has never played any tricks on her or teased her, but there’s a first time for everything.

“ari,” her sister says, and she does her best not to wince. she actually likes her nickname. she just minds that everyone uses it just because they think she’s a boy. “i’m having trouble with this spell. can you help me?”

she takes the book from her. it’s a spell to promote growth in plants, one that she’s been able to do since she was seven.

attina is thirteen years older than her. she’s a real adult, and it’s times like these that ariel understands the terrible power she has, how the scope of her abilities differs from even her own sisters.

“of course,” she says, instead of articulating any of that, “let’s practice in the garden.”

they’re swimming through a long abandoned shipwreck half sunk through the bottom of the ocean floor when flounder licks his lips and says, “your confirmation ceremony is coming up soon.”

that gets her attention. she looks up from the chess piece she’d been trying to dig out of the mud without breaking. “not for another two years,” she says crossly, “and it’s pointless anyway. i’m already the crown prince, and i touch the trident all the time. doing some magic with it won’t change anything.”

“representatives from all across the ocean will show up to witness you wield the instrument of the sea,” flounder says, “after that, it will be impossible for any to stand against you. you will no longer be the son – daughter – of the king of the sea, but a recognized regent in your own right.”

“it doesn’t change anything,” ariel repeats uneasily, “i’m not taking the throne for a long, long time. and the regent stuff is just a bunch of paperwork, it doesn’t actually mean anything.”

flounder rolls his eyes and sighs, “i’m only bringing this up because - when the time comes, don’t – wouldn’t you prefer to be named the crown princess of the sea, rather than the prince?”

ariel stares, betrayed. they don’t talk about this, not since that conversation they had about it over a year ago. “i can’t. the only reason the trident doesn’t reject me is because everyone still thinks i’m a boy, because most of the time i look like one. if everyone knew i was a girl there’d be no confirmation ceremony because i wouldn’t be able to wield the trident, and war would be brought to the doorstep of atlantica.”

“don’t you think you’re being a little over dramatic?” flounder asks, “you think you have great magical power because the trident chose you. how do you know the trident didn’t choose you because of your great magical power?”

ariel gives up on the chess piece. she has three more just like it, after all. “i know because all my sisters are talented with magic, all of them have things they excel at, are beautiful and personable. i know because attina studies, because she’s level headed and kind and smart. she would make an amazing queen. but she won’t be one, instead i’ll be king, and the only thing i have that they don’t, the only difference between us, is that i’m a boy and they’re not.”

“but you’re not a boy,” flounder says, “you’re a girl. you told the trident you were a girl, and it still lets you touch it.”

“it wants a king on the throne, not a queen. i know i’m a girl, and you know i’m a girl, and it knows i’m a girl, and that’s as far as this can go,” she says, using her firm voice, the one she uses on tutors and ambassadors who have irritated her.

flounder sighs, unimpressed, but says, “all right, ariel. whatever you say.”

ariel goes to the surface more often than she should, but never close to shore. that’s how she catches sight of this particular ship, and usually she’d watch them talk and drink by firelight and let the ship be on it’s way, but – she sees a man on the ship, and there are many beautiful men in the sea, and she has seen her fair share of handsome humans on ships, but this one – she can’t explain it, but his smile makes her heart lodge in her throat. he’s got dark hair and eyes as perfectly blue as the water on a clear day, and she wants him in a way she’s wanted no other.

“he’s a human,” flounder points out, scowling disapprovingly even as he stays be her side and spies on them with her. “we shouldn’t get involved with humans.”

“he’s a human and a man, and i’m not some mermaid that can go around seducing sailors whenever i feel like it,” she says absently, “that doesn’t mean i can’t look.”

“what’s him being a man have to do with it?” flounder asks. “you like men. besides, even if you’re dad does think you’re a boy, alana has a girlfriend and he doesn’t have a problem with that.”

she knocks her shoulder into his, “don’t act dumb. i can’t marry a man because everyone thinks i’m a guy, and i’m to be king. i have to have a line of succession, which might be a little difficult if i take a husband. I can’t be known to like men for the same reason.”

“not if you used the trident to make your physical changes permanent,” flounder says, trying for innocent and missing the mark entirely.

ariel grabs onto his shoulders and pushes him under the water, both to get enough leverage to see better and to shut him up. he crosses his arms, but lets her continue to use him as a ledge.

most storms build. they take a long time to form, ariel can tell when one is coming two days out and her father can feel one a week in advance.

this is not one of those storms.

it seems like it takes only minutes for the sea to go from perfectly calm to intolerably rough. the humans try to control their ship, try to move it with the storm, but this sudden tempest makes it impossible, and soon the massive ship is capsizing.

“we have to go!” flounder yells in her ear, trying to tug on her arm, “we have to back to the sea floor! we’ll be safe there!”

the humans have started scrambling into lifeboats, but ariel can feel the power of this storm, each massive wave makes her bones shake. this is a storm that plans to leave no survivors. “i have to help,” she says.

flounder yanks on her, managing to pull her a bit more into the sea. “ariel, you can’t! you don’t have the trident, you can’t control the sea! we need to go before it swallows us too.”

she shakes him off, “i am the heir to the sea. trident or no trident, i will control it. you need to go.”

“i’m not leaving you behind,” he says stubbornly, “this is crazy, come with me!”

the waves are larger than the men can handle, rocking and threatening to smash their small boats. “i’m really sorry about this,” she says earnestly.

his eyes widen and he grabs for her, his blunt nails digging into the skin of her shoulder, “no, don’t!”

she uses a spell to make him heavy, heavy enough that he’ll sink to the sea floor. he reaches for her as she’s pulled under, screaming for her, but she ignores it. the spell will wear off in a few hours. he’ll be fine, no matter what happens to her. “go to my sisters! tell them i’m okay!” even if this doesn’t kill her, it will leave her weak enough that it will take her days to make it back home.

she knows this is stupid. she’s the crown prince of the sea, and her life is more valuable than that any number of human’s. but that man, the one with dark hair and blue eyes – she doesn’t know why, but the thought of him dead is like a knife to her chest. she can’t stand it. he has to live, no matter what it costs her.

ariel has never tried to control a storm before. she’s not stupid enough to try to do it now, that’s something she doesn’t even know if her father can do. but the current – that she can comman, probably. she thinks. it’s hard, so much harder than anything else she’s ever done, but it’s working.

she controls the current under the boats, guiding them to safety and out of the way of the harsh waves that wish to claim the sailors for their own. she feels the heat of magic burning her from the inside out, but she doesn’t stop. she’s going to save these men’s lives.

but then the one man in particular she’s trying to save jumps into the ocean and climbs onto the ship that’s currently on fire.

she doesn’t understand how humans have survived at all if they’re all like this.

her foolish human succeeds in getting his dog onto the boat, but is pulled beneath the sea. ariel didn’t think she could do anymore, she thought that controlling the current so all the boats wouldn’t be torn apart and the sailors drowned was taking all of her magic and energy.

but she sees her human swallowed by the ocean, and she goes after him. she won’t allow the others to die just to save him, so she continues controlling the current even as she wraps her arms around his torso and pulls him to the surface. he’s unconscious, a nasty head wound bleeding sluggishly, but he’s alive. the boats are far ahead, but she ignores the ache of her body and pulls him onto her back, determined to see him to safety.

she rides the tail end of the current out of the storm, and as soon as they’re on calm seas, she releases her control of the ocean. they’re sailors. they can get to the shore by themselves now.

all she wants to do it sink to the bottom of the ocean and find a cave to pass out in. but her human is still unconscious on her back, and she hasn’t gone through this much effort only for him to drown now. she’s exhausted and her body feels heavy, like she’s made of lead, but she keeps moving forward. she’ll get him to land, and then she can rest.

it’s the cool grey of almost-dawn by the time she gets them to shore. she drags him onto the sand, and collapses beside him, eyelids begging to shut. she’s never done this much magic before, has never swam so far before, especially not with a person on her back.

her hair had come undone at some point, and it splays out around her as she shifts onto her side, determined to get one last look at him. the wound on his head had stopped bleeding hours ago, and his breaths are coming out deep and even. she raises a hand, hesitates, but presses her thumb against his lips, then splays her hand so she’s cupping his cheek. he turns into her touch, and for a moment all her drowsiness disappears. she’s wide awake, heart pounding as she shifts forward enough that she’s looking down at him. he’s not awake, not yet, but he’s turning into the warmth of her hand, skin against skin, and she feels like she’s falling.

she leans down, oh so carefully, and presses her lips to the corner of his mouth.

“prince eric!” frantic voices call out, “prince eric! are you here? prince eric!”

she tries to drag herself back into the ocean, but all at once her exhaustion comes rolling over her. her magic has had time to recover, but her body hasn’t. her human’s beginning to wake, the voices are getting closer, and she can’t make herself move.

she closes her eyes, pulling at her magic. it should be weak and trembling, barely recovered, but it feels as strong as ever, stronger even. she doesn’t have time to question it. instead she uses it, transforming herself into a shape she’s never taken on before – a human woman.

she barely has the time to see her human’s perfectly blue eyes open before her own slide shut.

she wakes up slowly. her first thought is that everything hurts. her second is that she’s – dry. she comes awake completely at that, gasping, and tries to push herself up but when she does sharp pain stabs her throughout her body. “miss, please be still!” calloused hands push her back onto the bed, and she looks up at a woman staring down at her worriedly, “you’re bruised – well, all over,” she says, blushing. “not to worry dear, i’m the one who dressed you and all that. i am carlotta, miss. i am afraid you gave our young prince quite a show!” she winks at her, “i believe he would have been quite taken with you just for saving his life, but you’re such a pretty thing too!”

ariel has no idea what’s going on. “where am i?” she tries. how long has she been gone? there’s sunlight filtering in through the window. her father must have noticed she’s missing by now.

“the palace,” carlotta says, “the prince requested i get him right away when you got up. he wanted to wait with you so he’d be here when you woke up, but the poor dear’s a bit banged up himself!”

her human. “is he all right?” she asks urgently.

“just fine, just fine, nothing some food and rest won’t fix, thanks to you!” carlotta pats her knee. “now, he did say right away, but why don’t we get you all dressed up first?” she pulls out a beautiful pink gown from the closet. a gown, because ariel has a human woman’s body, and legs she hasn’t even gotten a chance to walk on yet.

she’s spent hours in this form. her magic should be gone, it should be burning her up from the inside out. instead she’s just warm, the heat of her magic a pleasant feeling across her skin. even though her body is sore and weak, she’s never felt stronger in magic than she does right now.

she should run. she should run to the shore, leap into the sea, and never look back.

but a kind woman is holding out a pink gown for her to wear, and her human wants to see her.

“okay,” she says. her father has to have already noticed she’s missing. she might as well make his anger worthwhile.

carlotta bathes her and helps her into the dress. she brushes ariel’s hair and attaches dangling pearls to her ears. then she’s brought into a grand ballroom, and her human is there waiting for her. he takes a step towards her, then pauses, unsure. he’s just as handsome as before, and he’s alive, and ariel runs to him before she can think better of it. “your face!” she cries, reaching up to delicately tilt his chin down. the cut on his forehead has closed, but it’s surrounded by a big angry bruise. she lightly runs her fingers over it and bites her lip. “does it hurt?”

he stares at her for a moment, stunned. ariel remembers that her human is supposedly a prince, and that if anyone ran up to her in her palace and started touching her face without permission, they’d face a harsh punishment. before she can figure out whether she should apologize or not, he breaks out a large grin.“i’ll live,” he says, taking both of her hands in his own so he can kiss the back of each one. “you saved my life. i don’t know how, or what you were doing in that sea by yourself. but – you saved my life.”

he’s holding her hands. he’d kissed her hands! “i like to swim,” she says, too distracted with looking up at her prince to think of a better lie.

“i like you,” he says, painfully earnest, and ariel’s heart is in her throat. “i’d like to get to know you better. will you stay here, in my palace, as my guest? just so we can get a chance to get to know each other. please.”

she can’t. she has a kingdom to return to, people who need her and depend on her. besides, even if she and her prince do fall in love, what then? she can’t keep her human form, and she can take no husband in the sea. this can only end in heartbreak. she has to tell him no, and go back home.

“yes,” she says. and only regrets it long enough for her prince to grab her waist and lift her up, spinning her above him as he laughs from pure joy.

she will go back, just in a couple of days. flounder will tell her family she’s fine, and if her father get impatient he can use the trident to find her. but until then, she can have her prince, and he can have her.

days stretch to weeks. eric and ariel spend almost all their time together from the time they wake up to when they fall asleep again. both of them skip the shy stage, and jump right to eric trying to teach ariel how to dance and laughing at her when she steps on his feet, and ariel laying claim to his library, devouring books as she curls up by the fireplace and eric goes over charts and nautical maps on the other side of the room, looking up and smiling at her every few minutes. she demands eric teach her chess, and as soon as she understands the rules she soundly beats him every game.

he takes her to town and buys her every strange and random object that catches her eye, and when she starts elbowing him in the ribs and telling him to stop it, he only laughs and does it anyway. “i don’t understand your fascination,” he says as he pays for a copper fork with a delicate flower carved up the side, “but i like how happy you look. i’d be willing to trade a lot more than gold to keep you happy, ariel.”

she rolls her eyes and scoffs but she can’t keep from smiling, which was his goal to begin with.

there are nights when they look up at the stars, curled into each other’s arms, and just talk. he tells her of how his parents are dead, and how his whole country is merely waiting for him to get married to take the throne, of how the fear and pressure of being prince is almost crippling. and she understands, of course she understands, she’s the child of a king too, she set to inherit her own throne. she doesn’t tell him any of this, but instead offers him the comfort and encouragement she wants for herself. he seems lighter, and kisses her hands, and says she’s the best friend he’s ever had.

they take long walks on the beach together, and are affectionate and kind to one another constantly, thoughtlessly. ariel didn’t expect it to be this easy, she didn’t know anything in life could be as easy and right and perfect as eric’s hand in hers.

everyone talks. they all expect eric to propose any day now, it’s clear as day that he’s in love with her, and she’s in love with him.

she’s in love with him.

he’s her soulmate, her friend, someone she wants to fall asleep with every night and wake up to every morning.

ariel loves him, and she cannot have him. staying was a mistake.

she still can’t force herself to leave.

she’s been there a over a month, and it’s the cool dawn of morning. she’s standing in front of closet, trying to decide which dress to wear. she hadn’t been specific, of course, but she’d mentioned that she’d never had a chance to wear a lot of dresses or pretty things growing up. he’d responded by ordering the seamstress to go to market and get two dozen beautiful dresses, just for her.

(“you’re spoiling me,” she’d accused, trying to pretend like she wasn’t crying and failing miserably.

he’d leaned down to kiss her forehead. “you deserve to be spoiled.”)

she doesn’t know how she’ll ever live in any way but this. she’s a girl, and everyone knows she’s a girl. she feels freer than she ever has, even though no one knows she’s from the sea.

the first golden ray of sunlight has just passed through her window when there’s a pain in her chest. it starts out dull, but soon it’s to the point where she’s doubled over and gasping, each beat of her heart a new wave of agony.

something is wrong in atlantica.

she need to return home.

she hurries, she doesn’t have time to question it. she runs from the palace to the shore, still wearing the clothes she slept in. “miss!” carlotta call out from where she’s hanging laundry, “miss! where are you going?”

“i’ll be be back!” she calls out, and hopes it isn’t a lie, “tell him i’ll be back!”

she runs into the ocean, diving below as soon as it’s deep enough and releaseing part of the spell, keeps the woman aspect but returns to her true form of a mermaid. it’s a long swim back home, but she does just as she did before, and redirects the current, forces the water to take her back to atlantica faster than any fish or boat could take her.

she returns in the midst of a battle.

the great sea monsters cetus and lotan are attacking her home. her citizens are huddled in their homes, while their soldiers struggle to defend the city. her sisters are coordinating the attacks, acting as generals and mages to keep the monsters at bay.

her father is fighting ursula, the sea witch having transformed herself into a being of horrendous size. this shouldn’t be a battle, it should have been over and won but the time ariel got here. except that, for whatever reason, her father fights without the trident. his magic is strong, but so is ursula’s.

she swims, darting around cetus’s snapping jaws until she reaches her eldest sister’s side. “attina!” she cries, “what’s going on?”

attina whirls around to face her and her face goes slack in shock. she grabs her shoulders and pulls her into a fierce hug. “ari! you’re alive!”

“of course i’m alive,” she stares, “why would you think i wasn’t? didn’t – did flounder find you?” she thought for sure that flounder would be fine, but what if she was wrong, what if something had attacked him and hurt him while her heaviness spell was on him –

“your friend came to the palace,” attain says, and ariel’s shoulders drop in relief. “but he said you were trying to control the waves, and then the trident stopped working, so we thought for sure you were dead.”

“the trident stopped working?” she repeats in disbelief. is this her fault? did it stop working because she’d been living as girl with eric? that doesn’t make any sense, but neither does the trident simply breaking. her mind puts the rest of the pieces together. the trident wasn’t working, so her father couldn’t find her like she’d thought he could. they thought she was dead, that the line of succession was unstable, and then if the trident had broken somehow, thanks to her – it’s no wonder that they’re at war. she’s shocked it’s just ursula here now, and not any of the other spirits and gods who are so eager to claim the sea for their own.

there’s a loud crash as lotan’s tail swings wildly and a tower comes tumbling to the ground. “no!” attina shouts, but there’s nothing she can do.

people scream as the rubble comes raining down, and ariel doesn’t even have to think, she whips around and moves the water, creating a barrier over her people so none of the rock falls on them. “move!” she yells, and they all scramble to get of the way. once it’s clear, she lets the broken tower fall to the sea floor. people are starting to notice her, her sisters yelling her name and people staring. “where’s the trident?” attina is wide eyed, and ariel resists the urge to shake her. “attina!”

“in the throne room,” she says.

ariel moves to go to the palace, but lotan snarls and comes barreling towards them. soldiers line up, but ariel is not interested in any of her people dying today. she spins in place, magic unfurling from her hands. a small hurricane appears within the water, capturing lotan in it’s grip and dragging him away. “i can’t leave,” she says grimly. her soldiers jaws are slack. “attina, i need you to get the trident for me. i know it burns–“

“i’ll do it,” she says immediately.

ariel uses her magic to slice off a foot of her bright red hair, and pushes it at attina. “here, use this to hold it. it will help.”

her sister nods and hurries to the castle. ariel takes up her post, magic gathering in her hands. lotan has escapes her hurricane and she send it tumbling back with another large wave. “adella!” she calls out to her sister who’s leading the defense on the other side of the castle. “send cetus my way!”

adella nods, and her soldier marshal together, trying to push the monster toward the center of the battle line where ariel stands. cetus and lotan are beings of magic, and can only be killed by a tool of magic, like the trident. ariel can’t kill them on her own, but she can slow them down. cetus hisses at her, and she calls the power of thunderstorms down to them, sends a bolt of lightning that pins him to the sea floor. it glows and sizzles while cetus inefectially tries to free himself from its grip.

this is more magic than she’s ever done, more than she’s ever seen her father do. it should be killing her, but instead it feels like it’s bringing her alive. it’s like the electricity of the lightning bolt is filling her, powering her.

ursula’s cackle surrounds them. ariel looks up in time to see triton fall limp to the ground with a thunderous boom. “father!” she cries. she wants to go to him, but she has to stay, has to defend her home. she looks to andrina and aquata and says, “help him.” they specialize in healing magic. if any of his daughters can save him, it will be them.

they don’t need to be told twice. they bolt to where their father has fallen, and soldiers line up in a path to protect them. ursula moves to stop her sister, but ariel gathers another lightning bolt in her hand and throws it. it misses the sea witch, but it certainly gets her attention.

“so the prince isn’t dead after all,” she cackles, sauntering towards them. her soldiers raise spears and weapons, but don’t move to attack her, waiting for ariel’s command. she won’t give it. she’s not interested in any of her people dying today. “learn a few new tricks did you, boy? like your pathetic little illusion? if you think pretending to be a girl will save you, you are sorely mistaken.”

attina swims up beside her, holding the trident wrapped in ariel’s hair so it doesn’t burn her. “ariel, here, take it!”

she doesn’t. she’s furious, an anger as deep as the sea rising up within her. she shouldn’t do this, shouldn’t have come here still transformed as a mermaid instead of a merman. but she had. it’s who she is, and she’s tired of pretending otherwise. the trident can reject her or not, it’ll be harder to drive them all back without it, but her magic is just as powerful as her rage, and she can do it if she needs to.

“i,” she says, practically spitting she’s so angry, knowing the eyes and ears of all her people are on her and there’s not going back from this and not caring at all, “am not pretending to be a girl. i am ariel of the seven seas, crown princess to them all. i am the seventh daughter of king triton, and this is no illusion. i am a girl. and this girl,” she finishes grimly, “is going to destroy you!”

she lifts the trident from attina’s hands.

it burns.

but not to hurt. it comes alive in her hands in a way it never has before, sparking and shining. for the first time fear flickers across usrula’s face as the sea swirls around ariel, her hair flying and her eyes glowing with power.

she picks up the trident, and she understands what happened. when she controlled current, when she tamed the sea to her will, she did something that not even her father has done. when she commanded the sea to save eric, it knew. it knew that she had surpassed her father, and as such only she could wield the trident.

she’ll worry about that later.

she slashes the trident down, and a deep cut opens across ursula’s shoulder, blood oozing and black. ursula presses her hand to it, howling as she sears it shut. “you think that just because you wield the trident you matter?” she pants, standing straight. “it means nothing.”

“you’re right,” ariel says, something her father said to her long ago surfacing in her mind, and finally making sense. “being able to wield the trident means nothing, because only those who have no need of the trident’s power are able to weird it.” she lets it go, and it remains floating at her side. “if it will comfort you, sea witch, i will kill you with my own magic, and save the trident for your allies.”

ariel focuses, finds the sea witches heart with her magic, and squeezes. lightning runs up and down her arms and she flings every bit of it at usula, watches with grim satisfaction as the witch tries to move against her and finds she cannot move at all. ariel gathers a lightning bolt with the strength of a typhoon in her hands, and thrusts it through ursula’s heart.

her screams are cut off, and she’s reduced to nothing but ash. what’s left of her is carried away by the current.

ariel hold out her hand, and the trident obediently falls into it. she makes quick work of cetus and lotan, powerful stabs to the neck with the trident are all it takes for them to be reduced to nothing more than bad memories.

she takes a deep breath, centering herself for just a moment. then she goes swimming to the sea floor, where triton lays surrounded by her sisters. everyone she passes bows to her, and she tries not to focus on it.

“father!” she says, and her sisters part for her so she can sit by his side. “daddy, look at me.”

he’s weak but alive, and turns to face her. he’s crying as he lifts up a trembling hand to her, and she clasps it in both of hers. “you’re alive,” he says, voice scratchy, “my beautiful daughter, you’re alive.”

she breaks completely at that, throwing her arms around him and bawling. “i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to worry you so much, i didn’t mean for any of this!”

“it’s all right,” he tells her, “you’re alive, and you came back. all else can be forgiven, ariel.”

flounder finds her when everything calms dawn, and yells at her and then hugs her tightly for so long her arms go numb, but she only laughs and hugs him back. she formally introduces him to her family, and can’t help but notice the interested glances arista keeps sending him. by the flush on the back of his neck, he can’t help but notice either.

with some help from ariel, triton is back to full health in no time. he still can’t wield the trident.

ariel is having none of it. triton and her sisters look on amused as she glares at the trident, “i’m not ready to be queen,” she tells it sternly, “i’m much too young. you will obey my father until i take the throne, and you will like it!” she shakes it for good measure, and then holds it out to her father.

he picks it up, and after a stubborn moment it glows, becoming his once more. “thank you,” he tells her, amused, “i am willing to retire, you know.”

“no thanks,” she tells him, wrinkling her nose. then she rubs the back of her neck and says, “i – i was thinking, actually, that i should get some practice on being a queen first, before i take the throne.

“your human,” triton says, frowning. “is there no mermen you will be satisfied by? it must be him?”

“i love him,” she says helplessly, because she does, as truly and honestly as the first day she met him, but even more deeply.

he sighs, “then you shall have him.”

her family comes with her when she goes to him. he’s sitting on the beach, knees pulled to his chest as he stares out intto the waves. “he’s looking for you,” attina says, nudging her. “go on.”

ariel takes a deep breath, then swims closer to shore. “eric!” she calls out.

his head snaps up, and he catches her eye instantly. “ariel!” he cries, running into the ocean, “ariel!”

she swims to meet him so he doesn’t drown trying to get to her, and he’s submerged to his waist when he grabs her and pulls her close. she wraps her arms around his neck and he presses his face into her shoulder. she can feel his shoulders shaking. “oh, eric, i’m so sorry.”

“where did you go?” he asks, but doesn’t pull back enough to look at her. “carlotta told me you ran into the ocean, and no one could find you, i thought – everyone thought – but now you’re here, and–” his arms around her waist graze lower, and he freezes.

“there’s something i have to tell you,” ariel says nervously, “well, several somethings, actually.”

he adjusts his grip and lifts her up in a bridal hold. she impressed he doesn’t drop her when she waves her tail at him. “i’m a mermaid. and a prince. well, a princess. i, well,” she takes a deep breath, because she doesn’t have to do this. her magic is more than strong enough to hold the transformation forever, and it doesn’t change anything. she is a girl. but she wants him to know every bit of her, every part of her, and this is one of them. “this wasn’t the body i was born with. well, it is, mostly. but, uh.” she gets frustrated with herself, and instead of explaining she lets the spell drop so it’s just her, flat chested and sharp jawed. she doesn’t look that much different, but it’s different enough to notice.

eric rubs his hand against her scales, eyes wide. “honey, you have a tail.”

this is not the physical difference she expected him to focus on. “i’m a boy,” she blurts out, which isn’t true, but she needs him to understand because if he’s going to reject her he needs to do it now, do it fast, because this is killing her.

he blinks and looks at her chest, then her face. he leans so he can press their foreheads together, looking into her eyes and smiling. “what are you talking about? you look like a girl to me.”

she throws herself at him, and he stumbles back and falls, soaking himself completely. she grabs his face and kisses him, the first kiss they’ve shared, and it feels warm, feels important, like the trident in her hand. “i love you.”

“i love you too,” he answers, smiling so wide it looks like his face will break in half. “will you marry me?”

“yes,” she answers, and kisses him again because she can, because he knows all her secrets and loves her anyway.

there’s the cool sensation of magic that isn’t her own covering her, and when it’s gone she’s back in the shape of a human woman, in a blue dress that sparkles in the sunlight.

they look over to triton, eric flushing and inclining his head to him, since he can’t exactly bow with ariel in his lap. “this feels different,” she says.

“it’s not just a spell that will need to be maintained or broken,” he tells her. “it’s permanent. this is who you are, ariel. you’ve been hiding long enough.” his lips quirk up at the corners, “the legs are not permanent, of course.” he addresses the both of them, “when your time as monarchs of the land ends, you must both return to the sea. ariel will be made queen, and you her husband.”

“i love the sea,” eric says, looks down at her and a blush covers her face, “it will be my pleasure to stand at queen ariel’s side when the time comes.”

she kisses him again, because she can’t help herself. “as it will be mine to stand by your side while you are king.”

when they look back, her father and sisters are gone.

ariel isn’t worried. the magic and power of the sea still hums in her bones. she can simply transform back into a mermaid and visit them whenever she wishes. she’ll bring eric with her, so that he can know the place she grew up and he will one day call home.

eric and ariel walk out of the ocean onto the land, hands clasped and with a whole future together spread out before them.