Author's Note: Hello all. It's been a while since I last published a chapter for Sael, and this delay is largely due to the restriction on my available time due to classes. As the holiday season approaches, I hope to take advantage of more unencumbered time to finish the next two chapters of Sael, along with at least one of my other stories. Writing, however, is a slow (and long, as you may have realized) endeavor for me. My hope is that you find this little interlude as enjoyable to read as I found writing it. It came as something of a surprise, but fitting given the importance to Ariel and Eric of what is happening.

Things of worth never come easily.

Forums: I am now posting additional essays and supplemental information regarding the world of "Ariel's Isle" in my forums. So far, most of the information therein was previously located in my profile, which I have now shortened. This will change as I add new essays. There are several categories. Please "follow" if you wish to receive updates when new material is posted. Functional hyperlinks are at the top of my profile, but FanFiction strips them out when I try to include them in the story.

https /www fanfiction net/myforums/Axantur/5311978/

Publication Date: Tuesday, November 15th, 2016. (Author's notes updated Sunday, November 27th, 2016)

Sael

Chapter 22 – Just Two Steps

~~~ Saturday, the 16th of November, 1805 AD ~~~

~ 6:22 p.m. ~

Christiansborg Palace – Christiansted, Sankt Croix

Gulls cried in the distance, their voices followed by the mewling of a hundred others. Sleek shapes and outspread wings hung darkly in the air, silhouetted against the western sky and its mid-November sun, a sun that had now sunken into the western hills.

The freshening breeze had grown steadily stronger throughout the afternoon, churning Prince Frederik's bay into a tumult of frothing gray and blue. Above the palace at the pinnacles of its lofty towers, pennants and steamers coursed and snapped, sending the colors and devices of the ancient House of Oldenburg, Prince Frederik, and Prince Christian into long shuddering waves and wide rolling turns.

Waves that had just that morning been but ripples upon an azure sea had by now grown into great rollers, rollers that crashed and pounded at the bases of three marvelous piers of cut stone block that together held aloft the Skywalk Colonnade. For ages far beyond mortal ken, the sea had ground and eaten at those rocks, wearing them down, slowly stripping to sand the great vein of half-submerged mottled stone that underlay them.

Only there, beneath the palace at Frederik's Point, could such an outcropping be found along the entire length of that shore, though the rest of the isle was not entirely devoid of them. The breathtaking hillside town of Printsensbakke, for example, called at times "Southgate" by its English-speaking population, sat half-perched upon such a formation.

Four great towers anchored the Christiansborg into the vein of bedrock below. The east and west towers along the south wall were nearly twins, looking out upon the nearby towns, while the North Tower looked out upon the Skywalk Colonnade and the Sea beyond. The fourth tower was the broad Keep, wherein the Prince's apartments were located. The oldest element of the edifice, its foundations lay upon the footings and cellars of the fortress that had earlier commanded those grounds. In beauty as well as goodness, it had proven much an improvement. Thereupon stood also a great hall, the length and face of which ran long from south to north, overlooking the generous haven that Danish workmen had blasted out from the rocks. It was in the uppermost western end of this structure wherein a little mermaid had found her first welcome and home in the human world.

Eigtved's original inspiration for the Palace had been a dream, for in a dream it had come to him, or so had gone the tale that he had spun at parties. Such dreams, though, they never long endure. There is always a waking, always a struggle to remember the vision of the eidolon, much less its meaning.

There had been a succession … a coronation. Fashions and tastes had changed. Rococo surrendered to the late Baroque, and that as well to the classical revival that swept Europe from the middle of the century onward. Fame and fortune, they forgot old Nicolai Eigtved. The reaper came.

All of the years, all of the changes in circumstance and taste, nothing had so transformed Eigtved's vision as much as the death of the Master Builder himself, for much that he had imagined … had remained in his mind alone.

When the dispatches reporting the existence of a fine bounty of solid stone had finally arrived back in the Charlottenborg Slot, their accompanying surveys and drawings had found only an empty office.

For a time, the designs were lost.

The Time of Struensee came … and went.

It was the commission of the Regent and Eric's father, the Hereditary Prince Frederik that once again set into motion the actual construction of the Caribbean extravagance that would become the Christiansborg Slot, at first known as "Frederik's Palae." Before his installment, the prince had sought out the then Royal Building Master Nicolas-Henri Jardin to adjudge the edifice. Surveys and information concerning building materials and their availability were sought from Sankt Croix. Occupied with competing demands, Jardin instead sent his one of his underlings to seek inspirations for a new design in the archives.

After much searching and a little bit of chance, Eigtved's original designs were rediscovered. Upon first seeing them Jardin was entranced by the bold, imaginative lines that the great man had long before laid down, though he knew instantly that many elements would have to be sacrificed upon the altar of the architectural sensibilities of the late eighteenth century.

Nevertheless, as much as he could preserve, he did.

Despite the austerities following Struensee, work began and continued, funded mainly by the Prince's own purse. Duties upon the Isles' "white gold" paid for much of it, a fact to which the Hereditary Prince remained mostly indifferent, but one that much distressed the palace's later inhabitants. By 1776 it was estimated that, at the previous rate of construction, the palace's exterior would require fifteen years to finish, and its interior another fifteen years. Reports concerning its progress arrived in Copenhagen every few months, as both seas and ships permitted.

Jardin's successor, the "Palladio of Denmark," Caspar Frederik Harsdorff, saw at last to its completion, assigning the project's direct supervision to the rising architect for the duchies of Schleswig and Holstein, Christian Frederik Hansen. Although finished nearly four years ahead of schedule, the man never saw the finished marvel in its full glory.

~ The Breath of Autumn Dusk ~

Jens and Anders slipped by the prince, Anders taking the sides of the passageway and drawing back the curtains that hid it from the Ballroom while Jens took the lead and inspected the passage with care. The lanterns thereabout had already been lit, half a dozen on either side of the broad hall. The faint scent of perfumed oil filled the still air.

"Good." Jens thought, looking at the lanterns and considering the deepening dusk outside. "That's one less thing to worry about."

The cornflower blue field and russet lines of the carpet beneath his feet seemed darker in the flickering shadows. As he passed, Jens considered the many vases and busts of men unknown to him that stood still upon low pillars along its length, every one of them no doubt worth more than he would be paid in a year, "…in many years." he lamented, his mind drifting and just for a moment imagining Gertrude Elise smiling at him. Paintings adorned the walls in gilded frames, surrounded by settings brushed with what must have been a wash of gold.

Like the Skywalk Colonnade itself, the passage stood as an ornament with which to decorate the palace, a further extravagance for the many imagined lucrative guests who never came to visit its former master, a former master who himself … had never even once looked upon the strand upon which it stood.

"A pity." Jens mused to himself as he reached the twin doors at the hallway's end. For a moment, his thoughts returned to home, marveling at how different this grand dwelling was from his family's house in Odense. A dim red light filtered into the hall from the windows at its end, brightening it somewhat beyond the light of the oil lanterns. Anders joined Jens just as the younger soldier threw open the doors. A sharp, crisp breeze and the sound of a battering surf flooded in.

The sky outside was darkening. In the west, wispy tendrils of silver cloud blushed a symphony of mauves, purples, and fading reds. The eastern Caribbean skies had already grown black, for the moon would not rise until early the coming morning. It would be a dark and blustery night.

"Ahh." the older man breathed. "Best air I' tasted all day lon'."

Turning back, he spoke to Lund"Jens, ye' kin le' th' Prince know 'tis safe."

"Aye. That I will."

~ Of Pebbles and Mermaids' Feet ~

Lantern flames flickered in the evening drafts of the Ballroom. In the distance, a clock much larger and grander than the one in the Gallery above could be heard shepherding by the hours.

The soldiers Thomsen and Lund had slipped ahead into the hallway, leaving Eric and Ariel guarded by Privates Beck and Brandt. The latter two stood a goodly distance out on the Ballroom floor away from the Prince and his betrothed, affording them a moment of privacy.

It seemed, well, a natural and decent thing to do.

Max, oblivious to even the concept of privacy, let alone anyone's need for it, pranced about Eric's feet before deciding that his master had stopped for some reason, the Girl from the Sea safely suspended in his arms. The earlier smell of her fear had lessened somewhat, which made it easier for the dog to stop and rest. Max sat on the floor beside his Master and his Master's Mate, waiting for what might come next, suspecting that the master was going to give the Girl from the Sea a bath, just as he often did with him. That, at least, was how they both smelled – as if it was bath-time.

Prince Eric stood at the arched passageway leading out to the Skywalk with Ariel cradled against him. The pain in his back had begun to lessen from the moment she had broken out earlier into that beautiful smile of hers. Her very happiness, even such a fleeting moment of it, seemed healing to him.

After yet another silent fit of warm blushing, which happened to her often with Eric, Ariel watched as his gaze drifted downward, passed across her tummy to her skirts, and finally settled upon the dangling hem of her white petticoat. He didn't seem alarmed or upset. What had drawn his attention? Had he noticed the patterns of seashells sewn into them? When she herself had first noticed them last night, the former mermaid had felt such happiness and joy at the recognition and acceptance of who and what she was, who and what she had been. It had been so sweet of Carlotta to do that for her! However, maybe that wasn't it. Could there instead something be wrong with her? Her eyes rose again to meet his.

A playful smirk grew upon his face and in his eyes. "Not just your legs, little mermaid." he quipped, his smile broadening now as he rocked her gently in his arms, her head still laid against his right shoulder.

" … w … what?" she asked in the soft voice she had spoken in most of the day, her eyes widening and an innocent look something akin to self-conscious concern suffusing her countenance.

"You have beautiful toes too. The most beautiful toes … perfect toes."

Her jaw dropped slightly as she realized that she was blushing even more furiously. She looked away as quickly as she could to the nearest convenient distraction, that distraction being of course … her toes.

With hardly a thought, she wiggled them … and smiled. One, two, three, four, five … ten. Yes. Five on each little foot! They were all still there. Ten tiny, delicate, beautiful toes peeking out from beneath the petticoat and pale blue skirts of her day dress. Ariel knew for a fact how delicate they were by the practice she had received at injuring them, this being but one reason she had been so thankful for the wonderful human invention … of shoes.

The moment that he saw her do so, saw her wiggle her pretty little toes, Eric couldn't contain the urge to smile even more brightly. A soft, sweet laugh escaped him, and one that he punctuated by once again placing another soft kiss on his fiancée's forehead; this being the only place that he could kiss given her current location suspended in his arms.

"I … I do?" she responded, looking up at him as she closed her eyes at his kiss. Eric was always making her blush, and she was sure that he did it quite on purpose, but in truth if she had any misgivings about how this made her feel, it was only that someday it might end; and she never wanted it to end. She never wanted her time with him to end. That thought, that fear alone … made her want to cry.

As to his compliment on the supposed beauty of her toes, the former mermaid didn't quite know what to say. She often felt guilty or at the very least self-conscious about being so praised for something that she had done absolutely nothing to earn, when many girls far better than she, meran and human alike, hadn't been as lucky to have had such beautiful parents.

"Ariel …" he asked, his voice softening and a look of worry beginning to overtake his former smile. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No, it's just that … you're making me blush." she whispered,still smiling while keeping her eyes down, her head still resting upon his shoulder. "You always do."

"Oh." He paused, seeming to take a moment to think as he continued to rock her gently in his arms. "Is there something wrong with that?"

Shaking her head softly, she furrowed her delicate brow. "N … no. It's just that, well, I don't des … I … I mean, I can't help it if I …"

"I beg your pardon, your Highness," Jens Lund interrupted, pulling the curtain back from the other side of the archway. "And begging your pardon as well, Princess, but the passageway and skywalk are clear and safe."

A movement above caught Eric's eye.

On the stairs, Carlotta had appeared, bringing with her a new day dress of pale cream, matching shoes, and other feminine things presumably required to reissue their former mermaid back into the human world following her imminent bath. A few steps above her followed Aubrey Beauclerk.

"Thank you Private Lund. We'll be along shortly." Eric replied to the soldier, nodding as he did so.

Ariel's gaze followed Eric's, as it now often did, in this case over his right shoulder and upward the stairs above them. Should she be embarrassed that Carlotta had obviously seen Eric's unabashed flirtation with her, or comforted seeing how the woman who was practically Eric's mother smiled at them?

"Oh, go on ahead you two! Don't wait for me. I'll be there in just a moment." Carlotta admonished, having taken a few silent steps down the stairs to observe her little boy and foundling girl enjoying and getting to know each other. While it wasn't "courting" as most people thought of it, the two were certainly learning more about each other this awful day, more than most couples knew for many years after they married. "If there's to be a silver lining to all of this mess, perhaps it's that." she thought.

"Thank you Carlotta." Turning his attention fully to his fiancée once again, Eric continued. "Speaking of toes, are you ready to use yours again?" A hopeful mirth played at the edge of his words.

The question surprised Ariel. Was she just imagining things or did Eric seem to be feeling better? No, he did! She was almost certain of it! She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, hoping that her observation wasn't just her own exhausted and desperately hopeful mind deceiving her.

"O ... Oh!" the former mermaid stammered, suddenly realizing that she was going to get to try to walk again.

"Eric, won't she need her shoes?"

"Not yet, let's wait until after her bath. I think that she'll be able to balance better without them at first." he replied, smiling back at the Housekeeper, mischief dancing in his eyes. "We'll get her sealegs back … bare feet first."

"Sea … legs?" the girl asked, looking up at him, her thin crimson eyebrows knitting together once again as she tried to make sense of the words. To the former mermaid, the juxtaposition of the words "sea" and legs" seemed a most unlikely and even unfathomable combination.

Eric nodded and smiled once again, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. "I'll explain, love ... I promise." he replied, smiling, feeling more of the pain in his back beginning to subside. It seemed that just moving about and getting his blood flowing after being so still and confined was working wonders for him; but the deep feeling of exhaustion lingered.

"First, I'm going to set you down, and then we'll walk out to the bathhouse together." He paused to look intently into her eyes, to see if she was ready for what he was suggesting. There was some hesitation, but that wasn't a surprise after the ordeal through which she had suffered that day. "Are you ready, love? You walked again just a little while ago. You can do even better this time."

The confidence in his voice, just the way he that encouraged her, it made her heart leap. Oh, how she loved it when he did so! Moreover, he always did so. He was right too. Nothing had changed at all since she had stood and walked with his help in her room above. All that he had done was to carry her down the stairs, guarding her from falling upon them.

Looking down at her toes and then the floor below, Ariel nodded, and then looked back up at Eric. "Eric, should we watch out for peb … pebbles?"

"Pebbles?" Eric paused as his mind caught up with her question.

Ariel nodded innocently.

It was an odd concern, Eric thought, suppressing a grin before it began; but not odd, perhaps, for a former mermaid.

"Yes, we will," he answered, wanting to reassure her, but also to better understand her thoughts. "But why do you think that there might be pebbles on the Skywalk, love?

In her seven weeks of humanity, Ariel had discovered how to stub her perfect new toes in almost every conceivable way, learned that stones and sharp objects hurt unshod feet, and that one could badly bruise one's foot by rushing down the stairs too quickly, even while wearing rather fine shoes. The delicateness of her small, slender feet and tenderness of their soft soles had, if anything, made those lessons even more unpleasant than they might have normally been. Only sandy shores and grassy fields had proven safe for running about barefoot, which she loved; thus, Ariel had come to love those places above all others. Moreover, of course, there was within her a natural affinity between her heart and the sea. Over the past few weeks, Eric had made sure that he took her to visit these places as often he could.

She felt a blush of embarrassment rising within her, nearly causing her to forget the reason for her worry. Often, Ariel would ask a question only to then realize by Eric's response, especially his expression or by the look in his eyes, that the answer must be something known to most humans. Never was he malicious in so doing, he had never even once been so with her in any way. In fact, he often caught her up in his arms in such instances, kissing her even as he smiled and laughed, making them not entirely unwelcome occurrences to her either. Still, it sometimes made her feel somewhat foolish, like now, even though she hung already suspended this time in his arms and cradled against his chest, her arms wrapped around his right shoulder and neck.

"Isn't …" she started, looking toward the curtains, finally forcing the words out, "… isn't it stone?"

"Yes, it is." Eric nodded. "Have you found pebbles out there before?"

Had she? As much as she tried to concentrate, she couldn't recall. She shook her head, blushing now in the steady golden light of the wall lanterns that hung above either side of the archway leading out to the Skywalk. Out of an inexplicable sense of desperation, though, Ariel felt compelled to defend her concern. "No, but … maybe the waves might have broken some of it?" she offered softly.

As far as Eric knew, the waves had never reached nearly such lofty heights about the Christiansborg Slot since his commission, his exile, to Sankt Croix had begun over three years ago. Yet the rain, the sun, and the wind could indeed crack and wear stone, more so in the wintry north than in these sunny climes. Yes, but even here it happened. How, though, could his little mermaid know that? He smiled, musing at how her innocent question must reflect not just a natural concern for the well-being of her new feet and toes, but a curiosity about how the offending little rocks came into being in the first place, as well as where she should learn to be wary of them. Eric had found that Ariel's mind often worked in such ways, and he had learned to love her all the more for her gentle insight and curiosity, hoping only that he might prove worthy of such a clever and inquisitive mind.

It was then that Eric realized that he didn't really know, nor had he really ever studied the Skywalk and its slates to see if there might actually be broken pieces. In his many ventures onto it, he had never noticed any. Looking into Ariel's eyes, he found there a beautiful, defensive look, one that insisted and now hoped … that she might have a point.

"We'll look together, love." he said, smiling softly as he began to lower her legs to the floor. "To be honest, I don't think that I've ever looked closely."

Ariel smiled back at him brightly. It made her feel so, so … happy … that he took her thoughts seriously. Her moment of gentle satisfaction didn't last though. Ariel grew tense and clung more tightly to Eric as she felt him lowering her legs while at the same time raising her back, until she felt her much-discussed toes at last alight on the cool, polished stone of the Ballroom floor. Her eyes darted between his face and her feet, soon obscured by the cascading hem of her petticoat and dress's skirt.

As he lowered her, Eric slid his right hand gradually down to her waist until after a moment; she was standing nearly straight up, though still supported by Eric's hands, now both securely about her waist. "Now, I've still got you, but try to tighten your leg muscles again and lock your knees love, just like you did in your room."

Biting her lower lip, she devoted her full concentration to her legs. Ariel imagined herself straightening her tail, until she felt her knees go straight, the muscles in her calves, thighs and hips all working together to hold her erect. She was surprised how much easier it was than she had expected it to be. In some ways, the muscles of both felt the same, but the sinuous column of bone at the heart of a mermaids tail could never fully mimic the complexity of knees and hips as needed for a human to stand. Still, she found that the mental exercise actually helped quite a bit.

"That's wonderful love. Now, shift all of your weight onto your legs and feet. I've still got you."

Allowing her body to press down upon her legs, Ariel felt the tension grow in her hips, her thighs, her calves. Her knees wavered a bit.

"There." he whispered, bringing his lips once again to touch her forehead. "You're standing on your own. I'm so proud of you, Ariel."

She looked up at him and smiled, her heart feeling so warm and happy. She really was standing on her own,though as he had before, her love seemed to keep his hands lightly about her waist, perhaps in case she wavered.

"Now ..." he began, adopting a playfully regal air. "Would you like to accompany me out to the bathhouse, milady?"

Instead of words, she replied by laying herself against him, and placing a gentle kiss upon his cheek, rewarding him for the many that he had given her. Drawing back, she simply looked up at him, into his eyes, and nodded. She was smiling, even more so than when she had stood before, almost as happily as she had when he had introduced her earlier to the joys of lemonade.

What he might only describe as a surge of pure elation suffused Eric seeing her thus. Once again, he considered how long it must be until they at last wed. April of next year seemed an eternity to wait, all while he and she were so ready now to become husband and wife. Shifting his hands to her lower arms, he set about guiding her through the rest of her recovery.

"All right, let's get you turned around." Tightening his grip about her waist, Eric both coaxed and helped Ariel to turn back toward the arch. "Easy, love, easy. There, that's it!" Eric said as he slowly withdrew his two hands from Ariel's waist. "Good. That's perfect! Now, let's take that first step."

Ariel focused her thoughts on her legs, willing the right forward, yet after only a few seconds the former mermaid felt her knees begin to weaken and then shake. "I … I can't." She quickly leaned back into Eric. Before she reached him, however, the girl felt his sure hands once again about her waist.

Her words struck the young prince like a swift slap. He had never heard his adventurous little mermaid use that word, "can't," with such certainty and despair as she had just now, as she had today, especially after her encounter with Østerby.

"It's all right. I've got you." Eric said, trying to soothe her with his voice. "You aren't going to fall; and yes … you can."

Ariel looked up into her fiancé's eyes, seeking just his reassurance more than his words. It was there, that odd certainty in his gaze, in the set of his jaw, the way his dark eyebrows furrowed with that determination that was uniquely his. Oh, how she loved that about him, that surety, that easy confidence! Now, though, she was its object. Perhaps she could walk. She wasn't going to fall; he had said so, several times now. No, he wouldn't let her, and she knew that if he were with her that he would never let her fall again.

Still, she hesitated. She wanted to try and thought that at the very least that she might be able to move her legs again. She was in control of that, of them to an extent, but when she had tried to stand on her own she felt as though she might tip over and topple to one side.

"I c ... ca …"

"Can."Eric interjected in a gentle yet entirely uncompromising voice. "Can walk."

He took a quiet breath. "… all the way to the bathhouse … all the way out the Skywalk."

Ariel looked up at him again, her eyes glistening with tears threatening to be born.

Eric leaned over, bringing his lips to her forehead, causing her to close her eyes even as he closed his. As she did so, he loosened his hands about her waist and brought his lips to each of her closed eyes, first her left, then her right, kissing away the moisture that he found gathering there.

"No more tears, love." he continued in the softest voice as he pulled back slightly and they both drew open their eyes. "This is going to get better, starting now. Besides …" he paused a playful smile once again working its way across his lips "it's just two steps."

"T … two steps?" she whispered, her eyes widening. "But … it must be a hundred."

Eric smiled softly at the confusion in her eyes. His play with idioms while speaking to her had become a secret little vice of his – they always brought such a beautiful mystified air to her countenance. Her sweet innocence seemed to him so amazing and breathtaking in such moments that he couldn't help but enjoy them and hope for even more. "It's just an expression love. It means that it's not that far. And, by the way, you're standing on your own again."

Looking down to her waist and beyond, the former mermaid found herself poised on her own two legs and feet, with Eric's hands only lightly clasping her waist. He was right; she was standing once again entirely on her own. As her gaze rose to meet his once again, she felt a weak smile tickling at her lips.

"There." Eric paused, looking into her eyes. "Ariel, you can make it. You can walk just as you showed me you could upstairs. Just try, if not for yourself, then for me."

Ariel closed her eyes, feeling her heart beginning to race, and then opened them again. Why was she still so afraid despite being nearly in Eric's arms? Was it her fear of falling? Yes, absolutely it was, yet she knew that Eric would never let her fall if he could help it. So, why had her fear erupted again within her?

Then, she realized, why she was afraid. If she took that first new step, she would have to step out of Eric's embrace, the very comfort that was buoying her up in the midst of everything that had assailed her that day. His touch was what was sustaining her, and had not left her since she had regained her senses in his arms in her bedroom, his soft, deep voice soothing her in song.

She shuddered, begging him in a whisper, "Please don't let me g …"

"You already know that I won't." Eric interrupted in an equally soft whisper,his hands tightening reassuringly about her waist once again.

Ariel's thoughts focused on the feeling of her arm smashing into the wooden floor of her bedroom. She lowered her eyes to the dark polished stone floor, clenching them shut in dread as she imagined how it would feel to crash into cold, hard stone, "I … I'm afraid." she whispered in embarrassment, hating the thought of how useless and weak she must seem to him.

That wasn't how she was, or was it? Had she been like this before she had met the young man who now held her like a little guppy? Had she always been like this, vulnerable, yet unable to see herself as she truly was, fleeing into her father's arms when things grew beyond her ability to confront or withstand, and now into Eric's?

If so, was that … wrong?

Save for being twice struck unconscious two and three years ago, neither of which she could remember fully, Ariel realized that never before had she suffered so painful an injury, and it could have been much worse. She could have instead broken her arm or struck her neck or head, against which both Carlotta and Eric had direly warned her. In her former life, the waters had offered a forgiving cushion, much like the soft blankets, pillows, and mattress of her new bed. No injury that she could remember had even drawn her blood. Indeed, in all of her experiences and adventures Ariel had been unbelievably fortunate in that regard. This new adventure, however, her new life as a human girl, was proving less forgiving, first with the Ulusûlêth, and now with this.

"I know that you are, love, but you needn't be." Eric said, his voice calming and soft, only a little louder than her own. You're safe, Ariel, I promise. I won't let you fall … and I won't let you go."

Ariel listened to his words, but heard in them more than just the sound of his voice. It was so different than the other voice, the one that reminded her now at every turn, at every halting step, of her mistakes, her sins against her people, her sisters, her father … against Eric. Her own voice. The one that was so right ... the one that knew every wrong that she had ever done.

"Let's take that step, love." he whispered, taking her left hand into his while keeping his right hand steady at her slender waist.

Drawing in a deep breath, Ariel nodded and opened her eyes, wanting nothing more than to collapse again against Eric and hide within his arms.

She didn't.

Instead, she fought the urge, fought the terrible upwelling of fear that rose within her, and confident that Eric's hand held hers firmly in its gentle grasp, and that his right hand remained there upon her waist, she lifted her right foot and let herself fall forward.

Falling.

That is what walking felt like now to the former mermaid – something like falling. With her step, she fell forward, but it really wasn't a fall. It was both more and less. However, it hadn't been this way before. She had known how to do this, and it had seemed so easy to her. Only a few hours after Eric had discovered her nigh lifeless form upon the shore, after she had awakened in pain and disoriented in her strange new bedroom, after the lingering agony of her transformation and the burns of the sun had faded, she had stood for the first time, and taken her first step.

No … steps.

She had taken steps! After but a little while it had seemed simple, so increasingly natural to her – walking, even in the pretty pink shoes that Carlotta had set upon her feet beneath her equally pretty gown.

Except …

She didn't fall.

Instead, she felt the toes, then the sole of her right foot alight on the cool, polished stone of the floor beneath her, and before she completely realized what had happened, she had drawn her left leg up beside it. She had taken a step. One little step.

"That's wonderful, love!" Ariel felt Eric's hand tighten for a moment about her own as she looked first to him, then down to the floor. Then she felt his warmth grow close to her on her left, a soft peck alighted atop her head as Eric pressed his lips gently against her. Once again, a hopeful smile began to kindle in her eyes, spreading to her lips as she realized that she had actually taken a step almost completely on her own.

Looking to her left, she found Eric's shining eyes looking into hers, and a gentle, loving smile suffusing his visage that caused her heart to race a little more than even it had been. More precisely, it was a smile that caused her heart to flutter.

Leaning close by her left ear, he whispered into it, "I mean it when I say that I'm proud of you." He then drew away from her again, keeping gentle hold of her hand and waist.

Ariel followed his eyes with her own, blushing slightly at first, then even more; but she hadn't really stopped blushing since he had first lifted her into his arms up above in her bedchamber.

Behind him, Ariel realized that there were two other figures standing quietly nearby, watching both her and Eric. Her eyes met Carlotta's as she realized that there were actually six other people present and they had seen and heard everything.

"Bless you, honey." the older woman said, smiling, "That was such a beautiful sight to see."

"Yes, my dear. Quite lovely." Aubrey added.

Then her eyes met those of the two soldiers, who now stood before her, holding open the hangings that demarked the hallway beyond. Both of them were watching her, the younger man especially with a sad, even pitying look in his eyes.

Something warm and soft brushed the toes of her right foot where it peeked out from beneath the light blue hem and white petticoats of her dress, causing her to look down.

Sitting beside her was Max, the hint of blue eyes not entirely hidden between the long shock of gray and white fur that fairly covered his face.

"Another, love." Eric said, his request as gentle and as sweet as he could make it.

Ariel smiled down at Max, and then looked briefly to Eric. Raising her head and closing her eyes, she struggled to remember … how.

She had just taken a step, but still, she struggled to remember the rhythm that had once before come to her so clearly; for walking … had a rhythm to it. In a way, it was like a song, or had been. Just hours ago she had been able to hear it clearly in her heart and mind, and like her mother, if there was anything at which Ariel was naturally adept, it was the graceful exercise of rhythm, melody, harmony, and song. To her, these things were like swimming, like, like breathing. Then she realized that they had been, for while she could breathe air, she could no longer breathe water … nor could she swim. Her heart began to race faster in her breast as her breaths became noticeably shorter, and shallower.

Lund and Thomsen, Beck and Brandt, each man stood still nearby, holding his breath as Princess Ariel took her first step under Eric's careful guard. None dared to speak or hardly even move as she put her diminutive foot right forward.

The glimpse of a lady's foot, much less a princess's, was a rare sight to behold, Jens thought. Perhaps, though, this must be the rarest of all sights that one might see, the slender feet and toes … of a mermaid. Despite the look of terror that suddenly filled the girl's eyes as she did so, her forward movement had held a certain grace to it, even in the way that she flailed for an instant at its end as she regained her balance. The effect was subtle yet mesmerizing, as so much about the young maiden was.

Jens fought the urge to set his musket aside and offer his hand to encourage her. His mind assured him that this task was Eric's, and Eric's alone; but when had he ever seen a lady in such need and not done everything that he possibly could to help? As though snapping out of a daydream, Jens wondered at the strange thought, and more importantly, the even stranger feeling that had accompanied it.

"What 're ye doin' Jens?" Anders voice came as a whisper from his right. Jens looked up, regaining his senses. Looking back to his left, he saw his infantermuskett upright against the arch, with him standing now half a dozen feet from it. How, when, had he left it there? Then he realized that his right hand was held outstretched, its palm open and facing upward. His eyes traced the length of his forearm to his fingertips, until they came to rest at last upon the eyes of the Princess. She was staring back at him, a questioning look caught in sorrowful eyes.

Eric's gaze followed hers.

Beck, Brandt, each was staring at him as though he were a fool. What was he doing? What had he been thinking? Turning back to Thomsen, he saw a similar though far less severe, look in the older soldier's eyes. Jens blanched and began to take a step back, his gaze meeting Eric's, regretful at his intrusion into such a delicate matter between him and the Princess.

"No, Jens," Eric said in a soft voice, holding up his left hand to stay him. "Stay if you wish."

Looking back to Ariel, the young Private thought that her breaths seemed increasingly labored beyond what they had been just moments ago. Was Eric aware?

A soft whine rose up from the floor near the hem of the Princess's gown as Max cried and brushed up gently against her right leg, causing her to look down. A tear cascaded down her cheek, striking the dog on his dark nose.

"Ariel, what's wrong?" Eric asked, nestling closer against his confused fiancée. She was breathing more quickly now, causing him to worry that she might once again be panicking.

Ariel looked first to Eric, then to Jens. He had called the young soldier by his first name, as if the man was a friend. She had already known from her love's many stories how deeply Eric cared for his soldiers and fellow sailors, the men who protected and served him, and now, her.

Eric.

He was so … so much like her, she thought, preferring his name so much to his title, regarding others as no less than himself. And the young soldier, his name was Jens.

"I can't remember, remember … how ... to walk. I … I can't even remember how to swim." she choked.

"You will." Eric enfolded his arms about her. "Because I'm going to teach you myself, and this is all going to pass, I promise."

The former mermaid looked up to him, meeting his gaze with hers. "But … I …"

"I'm a much better swimmer when I'm not unconscious, remember?" he smiled as two fingers of his left hand touched her lips, gently hushing her. "Do you remember when we walked about the palace the evening we that we finally met?" he asked, gently withdrawing his fingers.

"Yes." she whispered, leaning into him. "It was one of the most wonderful nights of my life." Ariel thought back to that evening now only two months passed, that evening that now seemed so very long ago. She had worn a gown of pink silk and been so proud of herself when she had approached him in the Dining Hall without even a single slip or stumble. The look in his eyes, his sweet words greeting her had set her face ablush and her heart aflutter. After dinner, they had walked, together, him showing her a little of the palace, with her asking a thousand silent questions. There had been so many new and amazing sights, so many beautiful and intricate things of which to learn the names and uses. Sometime afterwards, it hadn't seemed long enough, she had grown tired and less steady in her steps as a result. Eric, though, had held her arm in his and helped her back to her bedchamber and into Carlotta's care. It had been their first walk together.

Eric nodded. 'And we're going to have many more of them. You're very close to walking again Ariel, just as you were then. Just a few steps and I think it will come back to you."

"You do?" the former mermaid looked at him in wonder.

"Yes. Are you willing to try again? You've already made your first step, and it was beautiful."

"It was? But, I stumbled and …"

"I think that it was the prettiest step I've ever seen a girl take."

Ariel stopped, looking into his eyes, finding there only a look of sincere admiration. How could her step have been … pretty? She had almost fallen, hadn't she? The look in Eric's eyes slowly changed to one imploring her to try once again.

Those eyes, blue like the endless pale sky on a clear, bright day. She couldn't disappoint him, he had so much faith in her, and she couldn't resist him when he looked at her so. Oh, how she loved him. Lowering her eyes, she relented, nodding her head and taking a deep breath.

"Good!" whispered, pulling her close into a quick but warm hug from which, in that moment, Ariel wished that he would never release her.

"Now, Jens is just four steps away." Eric continued, looking toward the Private. "I'll be holding your hand and waist the whole time. You aren't going to fall, Ariel. Please try to take another step toward him. Take his hand when you can reach it." He took a soft breath. "Remember when you walked with me on our first night here in the Palace."

Ariel looked at him, a little smile kindling in her eyes at the renewed memory. She looked to Jens as she felt Eric take her left hand back into his, and then the warmth of his right hand about the small of her back and waist.

Having watched and heard all of this, Jens had stood his ground at Eric's request. He held his right hand up to the young woman who had not long ago been a mermaid. It was a thought in which he took great joy.

All watched as Ariel closed her eyes again and steadied herself. She was standing, nearly on her own, and took solace in that. She thought back to the night that she and Eric had strolled about the palace, him showing her so many things and telling her about them. It had been far too much for her to remember everything, but she remembered the gentle sway of her hips, the feeling of heeled shoes upon her feet. She had been a little unsteady in them, but quickly had found a rhythm that worked for her. She remembered the feeling of her arm entwined in Eric's, of how it felt to gently lift one foot before the other, the strange pull upon her body focused down through the other leg, her thighs and calves softly tensing then relaxing one after the other, again and again.

"Was dancing like this?" she had wondered.

She felt a warmth in her free hand, and looked up quickly to find her right hand safely caught in Jens'.

"Thank Goodness." she heard Carlotta's voice cry.

"That was wonderful Ariel." came Eric's voice "Well done!"

Ariel looked about, stunned. She … had she walked? She had walked but she didn't remember doing so. Then, even as the thought crossed her mind, she began to. She remembered how she had put her right foot forward and taken the three short steps to the young soldier. Her eyes rose to meet his. They were a light blue as pale as sea ice. She was shocked to find that they looked terribly familiar to her, and then she remembered that she had seen them before, earlier that afternoon in her bedchamber as he had closed her two doors.

As he found the Princess's eyes now staring into his, it was all that Jens could do not to kiss the delicate hand that he now held in his own. An intense longing and sadness washed through him for a moment before the eyes and smile of another young lady danced in his heart, and the feelings of loss fled away.

"Do you realize that you just took three perfect steps, Ariel?" Eric asked, gently placing his lips to her left temple, causing her to close her eyes.

At first, she shook her head, then realizing that he was right, nodded instead. "I … it happened so fast. Did I?"

"Yes, you did. Now, let's take some more."

Opening her eyes, she took another deep breath, looking first to Eric, then to Jens.

Already quite astonished at this unexpected turn of events and his role in it, Jens looked to the prince for guidance.

"Thank you Jens. I think that worked well. Maybe if you take up a place in the hall beyond the archway next?"

"Yes, of course sire."

As Jens stepped away, Eric could see Ariel blanch slightly, the momentarily flush of her triumph fading as she faced yet another challenge. The distance was more than twice that she had just crossed.

Despite her fear, Ariel now realized that this was within her reach. She could feel it, the rhythm that her body but not mind still remembered. Steeling herself, she set off.

His fiancée's sudden, determined movement caught Eric by surprise. Through the events and traumas of the day, Eric had forgotten how decisive, how determined Ariel could be when set her mind to something, that is, when she wasn't scared out of her wits. His little mermaid nearly threw herself forward, passing under the draperies of the arch with him fast alongside her. His left hand, though, never left hers; his right hand never departed her waist. In a mere moment, her right hand was once again clasped in Jens'.

Then … she giggled.

Her eyes wide and happy she swung her head to meet Eric's gaze, smiling. "Eric! I did it! I did it! I walked again! I remember! I think I remember!" Giggling again, she wrapped her arms around her fiancé, kissing him over and over again on his left cheek as she bounced lightly on her newly obedient feet and toes.

Eric was overjoyed … and quite frankly stunned. To hear his love laughing so, to have felt the confidence and seen the grace in her stride this time … it was the best thing that had happened to her all day, and far better than he had dared pray for. While he had suspected the source of her trouble thanks to her father's warning, he had still been so afraid for her, that her own fear might have quelled the power of the Trident that operated still within in her. He would have to inform and thank her father on the morrow.

Eric rocked Ariel slowly in his arms, twisting lightly at his waist. "I knew that you could. Now, just two more steps, right?"

Pausing in her happiness, Ariel furrowed her brow. "But … you said that before."

Eric smiled. "That's right, until you get where you're going, it's always just two steps." He paused, looking into her eyes. "Never as close as you hope, but never as far as you fear."

"Oh." Ariel replied softly, her eyes wide now and looking lovingly up into his.

"Now, milady, may I escort you to the bathhouse? I've heard that a certain mermaid needs to wash up and refresh herself."

Ariel smiled. "You said that before too, the first part, about the bathhouse."

"They were good words, worth using twice." he smiled, pressing his lips against her temple, once again causing her to draw her eyes closed.

As he pulled away, his little mermaid giggled once again. "Twelve." she whispered.

Eric looked back at her, puzzled. "Twelve?" he asked in reply.

Ariel nodded, "that's the twelfth kiss that you've given me since I woke." her voice sweet and wistful.

"You count my kisses?" Eric asked, a broad smile now spreading across his face. "Are you sure? I think it's been more than that. I lose count – not that I'm counting – because to be honest, I'm always hoping for more."

His fiancée shook her head smiling back at him with equal joy. "Ohhh, maybe I lost count too. I wasn't really aware of what was happening earlier, but, it reminds me of the debt I have to repay." she teased.

"Ariel, there's no debt. You earned every single kiss that I have ever given you nearly three months ago."

Ariel's smile faded, replaced by a look of uncertainty. "But, I, I didn't do so bec …"

Eric caught her lips with his own, sweeping the former mermaid into a deep embrace and kiss that took everyone else in the room by complete surprise.

It was not brief; nor were the four guardsmen, Grim, and Carlotta the only ones surprised. His kiss took Ariel completely without warning, in both its passion and its depth.

As Eric's lips moved warmly against Ariel's he deepened their embrace. After a moment of shock, she surrendered willingly and returned it, pressing her lips at first softly, then harder against his, exhilarating in how he gently asserted his strength about her.

After perhaps a half a minute, maybe more, their lips parted and they breathed once again.

"You're mine, or you will be soon, little mermaid," he whispered softly into her left ear, "... and I am absolutely not letting you go, not ever." He drew back slightly. "I'll never let you fall, not even to your own fears. I love you far too much to ever lose you again."

Raising her eyes to his once again, Ariel struggled to catch her breath, smiling softly, knowing that he was reaffirming for her only what he had told her so many times before, that not only was she his, but that he was equally hers as well. There was only the matter of a wedding to make it true in the eyes of humanity and her own people.

Author's Note:

A funny thing happened on the way to the Bathhouse – Ariel rediscovered how to walk, with a little bit of help and encouragement from Eric, Jens, and Max. This story proved an example of what seemed to be a beautiful little vignette getting in the way of a properly paced story, thus, the much spoken of "Wash Away Your Cares" will follow shortly, continuing from this point.

Okay. Who am I kidding? Pacing is hardly the great strength of "Sael," though I like to think that a loving overindulgence in "Ariel and Eric" might be.

Secrets and Hidden Meanings: There are hidden meanings, secrets, in Sael, in Ariel's Isle, secrets that I don't perhaps want the readers to recognize immediately. There are layers upon layers to the world and many different perspectives. I allude to, offer hints about, and have strewn these elements through all of the stories that are congruent with the main story. Currently "Night Comes to Ariel's Isle" no longer fits this scheme, but it will eventually. Think of these elements as little rewards for studying a chapter in detail or simply going back and re-reading it.

Acknowledgments and Credits:

Cover Art:The cover art remains "Ariel" by scarlettiwater deviantart com.

The link to the original is scarlettiwater deviantart com/art/Ariel-296039838

Creative Contributions: I have some definite creative inspirations to acknowledge for this chapter, which I note in order of occurrence in the story.

Given that it takes me two months to write a chapter of Sael, and even longer when distracted by pesky graduate studies, I just want to say that the term "sealegs" was going to feature in at least two chapters, but I wanted to acknowledge that NightWrighter511 used it beautifully in Chapter 22 of "Under the Bright Blue Endless Sky." If you haven't read that story, you are missing out. She beat me to it, but I have more up my sleeve regarding this topic and Ariel's experiences with it. :-)

Likewise, Eric's allusions to Ariel's past spills and injured feet were a reference to TardisBlueMermaid's "Fallen Angel." It's a gorgeous story full of Ariel, Eric, and how very hard it is to become a human when you've always been a mermaid.

Crisis Rose's equally lovely "Broken Strings" explores a similar theme, leading in a different (albeit equally adorable) direction, and as I was visualizing and writing Ariel's attempts to walk once again, I was constantly thinking about it.

Thank all of you for your inspirations and the happiness that your art brings me.