nautical

[aetheling]

Cymbeline doesn't really like boats, but they're the only way to get anywhere in a reasonable period of time, especially when "anywhere" isn't on the mainland. Today he is sailing to Vectis, to oversee the change of governorship; his father the king is needed for courtly matters back home and his mother the queen, despite being the source of his royal blood, declines to involve herself in affairs of state when she can avoid it. Zoyah takes more after Ranae than after Charles in this department. So, it falls to Cymbeline.

Walking on a boat is even more difficult than walking on land, and Cymbeline is no great shakes at the latter to begin with. Unfortunately, neither he nor Kerem, the court magician and Cymbeline's confidante, have been able to figure out how to apply the principles of practicable magic to alleviating princely clumsiness. So Cymbeline is clinging to the railing of the boat, watching the waves, trying to avoid having to walk anywhere.

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[aetheling]

He flops limply onto the beach where she takes him, spits out more water, and continues to be unconscious.

[treasuresuntold]

She tries to get him up as high as she can, as far from the water as she can. Moving is so hard up here, how do they do it? Well - feet. Feet is how.

This boy has feet.

Ariel inspects them, poking her fingers between his toes. They're cute! Like funny hands. (She looks up at his face. Is he awake yet? No.)

"C'mon," she murmurs, trying to stir the magic of her voice, even though she knows it doesn't really do that kind of thing. "I didn't drag you all this way to have you die on me." She kisses his forehead. "Wake up, pretty boy."

[aetheling]

The pretty boy's feet twitch when she pokes them, but he doesn't wake.

[treasuresuntold]

Ariel sighs.

"Too bad, I guess," she says. "If I stay out any longer, Dad'll serve me for dinner." She gives him a last, thoughtful look, then kisses him on the mouth (because when is she going to get another chance?) and starts hauling herself down the beach towards the water. The sand itches between her scales.

[aetheling]

It's not long later when Cymbeline's eyes flutter open.

He has the oddest, most vivid memories of being spoken to. Despite having been unconscious, he heard. Despite not knowing any of the words she used, he understood.

He hauls himself to a sitting position, coughing.

There are strange tracks in the sand. Handprints, too small to be his, and larger smoother depressions in the beach, like a seal or a dolphin with human forelimbs hauled itself up alongside him - with him? In tow?

He doesn't know what to make of that.

A quick assessment of his surroundings is in order. He starts along the shore, looking for a stream; fresh water will lead to people, and he's recognized over the whole of Loegria and its neighbors; he can get home as soon as he finds civilization of any kind.

[treasuresuntold]

Meanwhile, Ariel swims straight home.

The king under the sea doesn't serve her for dinner, but it's a near thing. She's a week recovering, and she'll have another scar right down the length of her tail.

She can't stop thinking about her little taste of the surface.

What must it be like up there? Whatever it is, it can't be as bad as it is down here. And her father won't be able to find her no matter how he looks. That's worth a lot.

By the time she can swim well enough to leave the palace again, her mind is made up.

She goes looking for the witch.

[alicornucopia]

The witch has the sense to fear Triton, but not the sense to let that keep her far away. She's findable, if you know who to ask.

Here she is, deep inside the twists and turns of a stinging reef, with her garden of polyps, and her collection of sea-glass with small trapped moving things in each piece.

[treasuresuntold]

"I want some magic," Ariel announces. Her voice fills the reef. She's good with her voice.

[alicornucopia]

The witch creeps out from the maze, peers around a corner.

"Do you? Well then, pretty voice, why don't you come in," says the witch, mimicking the inflection, if not the power. "And we'll see if we can't make a deal."

[treasuresuntold]

She swims inside fearlessly. There are things in this ocean she fears, but stinging reefs and creeping witches aren't among them.

[alicornucopia]

The witch is themed purple where Ariel is green. She's half-octopus, not half-fish, but still certainly a mercreature. Her hands skim over her sea-glass collection. "Now what would you like? I've got someone's charmed hands, nimble as you please... got whales' strength and sharks' ferocity and several sorts of poison and glitter for your scales - what's your fancy?"

[treasuresuntold]

"I want legs," Ariel says firmly. "I want to go up on the surface and walk around."

[alicornucopia]

The witch starts to reach for something, but then she says, "In the interest of repeat business - the legs I have are not the best models - I took them as a curiosity, got them for a song, but I wouldn't use them. Cursed, painful."

[treasuresuntold]

Ariel shrugs. "And I care? How painful can they be?"

[alicornucopia]

"Oh, very, it'd be like putting all your weight down on a narwhal's nose every time you took a step - you want them anyway?" inquires the witch with interest.

[treasuresuntold]

Ariel laughs. "Can't scare me."

[alicornucopia]

"Innnteresting. Well, they are certainly available... what will you give me for them?" says the witch with a smile. Octopus tentacles rearrange themselves into what might be called a businesslike posture under her.

[treasuresuntold]

"I could give you a song," she snorts. "I don't know, what do you want?"

[alicornucopia]

"That's just an expression, but from you, I'd take a song - so to speak," muses the witch, creeping forward a bit. "The entire voice would be ideal..."

[treasuresuntold]

"I like my voice," Ariel points out. But she doesn't point it out very hard.

[alicornucopia]

"But my dear," says the witch, "so do I."

[treasuresuntold]

Ariel snorts.

"Whatever, then."

[alicornucopia]

"Now," says the witch, "you are absolutely welcome to keep the set of legs indefinitely. However, my personal skills run more towards the encapsulation and the transference, not so much to the sticking. They have ludicrous numbers of practical magicians on land, I'm sure you won't have any trouble getting someone to attach them permanently if you like them. If you can't, they'll come off and you'll have a tail again, but I can reattach them for another try, no extra charge." She plucks the glass containing the legs off its coral shelf. "Do we have a deal, my dear?"

[treasuresuntold]

She tosses her head; her hair flows out behind her.

"Yeah."

[alicornucopia]

"Excellent," the witch grins, "this may sting even before you walk on them, be a dear and don't move," and she reaches for Ariel's throat; her grip is firm, but not painful.

The transfer takes about five minutes of humming concentration, and the moving shape in the glass changes, and Ariel's tail is sliced right through the middle and changed.