Hello everyone! So first of all, today is my birthday, two hours into it actually. I am very happy that I got to finish this chapter today, especially as it it the ending of a project that means a lot to me. Second of all, I will admit that this is pretty self indulgent, I really wanted to say goodbye to my characters and to this Eric that I created from his limited screentime and a couple of Broadway songs.

I know I said this was going to be an epilogue but it came out a bit longer than I thought it would be so it is more of a final chapter.

See bottom of the chapter for the part where I get emotional because guys this is the last chapter:(((

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VII. sailing forward standing steady

And seamlessly, moment by moment, the big day came upon them. He would be lying if he said he hadn't been anxious, that he didn't notice the passage of time and that when the day finally came he was prepared. In fact, he had counted the days, the hours even, and he was no less nervous than he had been the day a date had been set.

He was trying to breathe deeply at the rhythm of the clock to calm his thumping heart while Biergh shaved him that morning. They had been neglecting his facial hair for the past few weeks, so now there was a thin layer of fuzz covering the lower part of his face. Ariel had been greatly amused by it, though behind her giggles and jokes he could tell that she didn't like it. He didn't like it much either.

Biergh and him had considered leaving it for the day, so he would appear older, more mature, but he had decided against it. More than ever, he wanted to feel like nothing else than himself.

He closed his eyes as Biergh passed the razor over his lip with caution. He had gotten better at it, almost as good as Galen, though there was still that sharpness of movement that could only be found in Biergh. It was almost grounding.

Eric took a deep breath and tried to swallow down his anxiety. Biergh stopped for a second and looked at his face. He continued shaving down his left cheek and said:

"Did you sleep well last night?"

He might have improved his skills with a shaving razor, but he still forgot the titles. Eric knew the time was coming when he wouldn't be able to let it slide anymore.

He tried to laugh, but it came out more as a shaky chuckle. "Is it that obvious?"

"The dark circles are pretty noticeable."

"Good to know," he said, and tried to smile again. Eric hadn't, in fact, gotten any sleep that night. He had woken up at some point hours before sunrise and hadn't been able to go back to sleep no matter how hard he tried. Eventually, he gave up and moved to the balcony to breathe some of the fresh air of the night. Ariel eventually realized that he wasn't sleeping and stayed up with him. No matter how many times he told her that she should go rest she refused to go back to bed. Even despite the tiredness that she clearly felt, she never left his side. Together they watched the sun rise over the horizon as he laid his head in the comfort of her shoulder and held her hand between his. When the morning came and they had to part ways, she told him that everything would be alright. He placed a kiss on her temple and let her go.

The memory made the smile in his lips feel truer, but the knot in his chest did not become any less tight. Biergh did not ask any further, he gave him a nod and continued working. A few minutes later, once his face was completely shaved, there was a knock on the door. Galen came into the room carrying a simple wooden box that he quickly set over his trunk. He looked relaxed, unlike Biergh and himself, but Galen was always so put together that it did not surprise him.

He gave Eric one look and commented in a nonchalant manner, "You look terrible, sire."

"That's what I said," Biergh said under his breath while he put away the shaving tools.

"That won't do. We should at least rouge you up a little bit, we cannot have you looking like you are one step away from death in front of all those people."

Eric knew what they were doing. They were trying to calm him down and he was more than grateful for it. He followed along.

"No, thank you, Galen. I will only end up looking like I had too much rum before the ceremony."

"I take full offense to that, sire. Applying rouge is one of my many skills. Am I good at applying rouge, Biergh?"

"Wonderful at it," came Biergh's quiet response.

"'Wonderful at it' he said, Prince Eric. Thank you, my darling," Galen repeated, his voice still serious but a small trace of the humor behind his words coming to light. Eric was able to let out a small lighthearted chuckle.

"Thank you but I think I will say no to that offer."

Galen gave him a small smile and moved to open the wooden box he had brought with him. Inside, neatly and carefully placed, were the signet ring he knew had belonged to his father and several of the adorning medals and gold pins that would be placed on his attire that day. The sight of the ceremonial jewels made him feel like the knot in his chest was not letting him breathe anymore.

"Very well then, Your Highness, but do not fret,"–Galen and Biergh were looking at him both like he was going to war and like they had all the faith in the world in him–"We will make sure that you look your best, even without the rouge."

Your Highness.

Eric closed his eyes as his two servants started moving around him to begin the preparation. Your Highness, Your Royal Highness. He wouldn't be called that much longer.


Many things had changed. It wasn't very noticeable, especially among the people closest to him, and he could almost ignore it while Galen and Biergh threw jokes and playful remarks at one another as if it were just another day. He could pretend he was being prepared to attend a special dinner or a festival in town, but pretending could only take him so far. Things were different, he was different and everything around him was different. It didn't take a very bright person to notice that the way that people looked at him had shifted at some point in the past year.

He wasn't viewed as the naive and carefree young prince anymore, people no longer held their breath in anticipation for the next time he would run away to the sea, that was something that he unfortunately didn't have much time for anymore. He knew that nostalgia was useless and tried not to long too much for the time gone by. After all, he had a present that he wouldn't have changed for the world.

Looking at himself in the mirror in his ceremonial military uniform once he was dressed and ready, he didn't see exactly a stranger as he feared he would have. Rather, he saw a version of himself that maybe he hadn't stepped into completely, but that sometime soon he would. He took one last deep breath and straightened his shoulders as he walked out the door.

In the halls servants walked in all directions finishing the last details of the ceremony in the throne room and the ball that would be held later in the evening to celebrate. Hanging ribbons, banners and flower arrangements could be seen decorating every inch of the palace. He chanted the memorized flowers in his head like the games that children played: heathers, the Vedhavet flower, purple asters for royalty and lilacs, the Prince's birth flower. Everything was shining and beautiful, a promise of a joyful day.

The two guards that escorted him to the sitting room he would be waiting at bowed to him. The 'Your Highness' that they both muttered held more emotion than it would in a normal day. He walked around in silence, his dress shoes clicking on the floor as he heard more and more people outside the room. Looking out the window through a slit on the closed curtains, he counted the guests that were still arriving and being welcomed to the palace, a seemingly long line of full skirts and fancy coats. He had barely gotten to 13 when the door opened again. He immediately felt lighter as he took in the beautiful young woman that had walked in.

Of all the things that had changed in the year since his 18th birthday, the most drastic change had been that, against all odds and expectations, Prince Eric of Vedhavet had finally brought a princess to the kingdom. He was sure that no one believed that before his coronation he would be so happily married, so madly in love with the woman that was now his wife. He felt the smile that spread across his face when their eyes met. Her red hair was pinned up in a complicated hairstyle of braids and ribbons, a silver tiara prettily adorning her head. He gave a silent thank you to however had chosen her dress, as it was his favorite color on her. He always knew green would look beautiful on her.

He walked towards him as she walked towards him, meeting in the middle of the room. Ariel's eyes were glinting almost playfully as she looked over him. Eric took her hand and gave it a kiss. He noticed that she was wearing the green sea glass bracelet that he had gifted her what felt like thousands of years ago.

"You look absolutely gorgeous," he told her, lacing her fingers with his. She smiled with a slight blush in her cheeks.

"You don't look too bad yourself, Prince Eric."

"Oh, this? I rather like it, I am actually thinking of using it as casual everyday clothing. What do you think?"

She laughed in that adorable way that wrinkled the corner of her eyes. "Absolutely not." He laughed along with her, already feeling the knot in his chest loosen the more he ran his eyes over her soft features, the collarbones that he loved to kiss to make her giggle and her pale shoulders that peeked right over the lace on the low sleeves of her dress. They had been married for half a year, and he hadn't yet tired of running his fingers down that perfect curve that her neck and shoulder formed. However, her lady in waiting and a butler were diligently standing at a respectful distance from them, so he could only look for now.

Ariel put one hand on his cheek, making him look up from a particular mole in her clavicle to her eyes. Her eyebrows were slightly pinched as she seemed to examine his face. She gently ran her thumb under his eye.

"You look tired," she said in a low voice, only for him. He sighed and closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.

"I am."

"Are sure you'll be okay?" Her tone, as always, was genuine when expressing her worry. He opened his eyes and looked at her to make sure she knew he was being honest.

"I'll be fine," he said nodding, "I won't drop in the middle of the ceremony, if that's what worries you. Though I would do anything so that we could go back to bed and sleep until next week."

"I wish," she said, and Eric once again felt guilty for keeping her up for a good portion of the night. She must have been so tired as well. "It'll pass quickly, we will be done with all of it in no time."

It wasn't true, and they both knew it. They still had a long, long day ahead of them before they could go get a proper night of sleep, but he appreciated her trying to make it all more bearable. He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed it again with a smile.

"Of course we will, my love."

He relished in the way that endearments still made her face glow a soft pink. She smiled and gained back her familiar mischievous air. "Meanwhile, do you think you can bear it?"

"As long as you don't disappear from my side, that would be wonderful. At least to make sure I don't tear these clothes"

"Too tight?" She ran her hands over his embellished coat, smoothing it down.

Eric shrugged. "Not too bad. It could be worse."

"Well, I never thought in my life-" Another voice, a deeper and familiar one, resonated in the sitting room. His mother, as regal as ever, was standing in front of the open door, the highly decorated crown that he didn't see very often sitting atop her head naturally, as if it were just an extension of her perfect posture. Him and his wife separated a couple of inches respectfully at her presence, smiles still on their faces. Ariel's hand slid off from his coat and secured itself in his arm. She dipped in a graceful curtsey towards the approaching Queen (human etiquette was, surprisingly, one of the things that she had caught on the fastest).

"You look beautiful, dear. Every day I wonder how this boy got so lucky with you," his mother smiled at her tenderly before turning back to Eric. "And you, it's nice to see you finally learned how to act your age. Two years ago you would've whined for hours before jumping out of your clothes at the first opportunity."

"Completely unnecessary, mother," Eric said in a jokingly serious tone.

His mother clicked her tongue, "Watch your tone, don't think that just because you'll be the king suddenly you can talk back to your mother."

He knew that almost everyone wouldn't notice, but it became clear to him. Even his mother, with her impassive and controlled expressions, was nervous at the importance that the day held. There weren't many telltale signs, just a slight quiver in her lips and an almost imperceptible widening of her eyes, but they were there. She went on as if nothing was worrying her heart. She opened her hand fan and stated that they would be late if they didn't get moving before turning and walking out the door. Eric wanted to comment that the ceremony couldn't really begin until he got there so they couldn't be late, but he had the feeling that his mother's mood for jokes had started and ended with her brief comments.

Eric took a deep breath and felt a small tugging in his arms. Ariel was looking at him, a question in her eyes. He amused himself for a second imagining what she would do if he told her that he wanted to get out of there. He was sure that she wouldn't hesitate to break him out like some runaway bride escaping with her lover in a very dramatic though funny scene.

But, alas, he wouldn't get to see it, at least not that day. He put a hand over hers and nodded. They both followed his mother out the room.


Grimsby was standing outside the door of the throne room along with two servants when they arrived. He was, to Eric's great surprise, the only person he had encountered that day who seemed to be completely calm. His posture was, as always, proper and straight but he was not stiff, there was an easy smile on his face and his eyes glowed with what could only be pride. To Eric, it felt like someone had finally thrown a rope at him while he was drowning. Seeing Grimsby, the person who had spent the past six years on the verge of a breakdown anticipating this day, so sure that there wouldn't be any mishaps and mistakes made him start to believe that maybe it would be so.

"All ready, Your Highness," he said, that pride evident in his voice. Eric was ready to burst into tears.

"Thanks, Grim," he said. What would he ever have done without Grimsby?

"If you allow it, Your Majesty," the old advisor continued, directed to Eric's mother with a respectful nod, "We will now proceed to the final adornments to begin the ceremony."

"Of course, Sir Grimsby. Gentlemen," his mother turned to the guards standing behind them, "Would you be so kind as to escort the Princess to her place beside Princess Hedvig."

Eric's heart suddenly started beating as if it was about to come out of his mouth. It was officially starting. He felt like the air he was breathing became thicker, going down his lungs with more difficulty as he held Ariel's hand tighter. He didn't want to let her go yet, if he could he would go through the entire thing with her hand in his, traditions be damned. And yet, he knew that now was not the time to rebel against his kingdom's customs.

He turned towards her, his pulse accelerating. She gave him a small, reassuring smile and Eric just wanted to kiss her again and again until they both forgot everything around them.

"I will be right there," she told him, her voice soft, "Everything will go well, I promise."

He let out a long breath as she put her hand on his cheek and ran her fingers down his temple. "Ariel," he breathed out her name and he was startled when his voice slightly trembled. On a beat, Ariel wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him down in a tight hug. Eric brought her small frame against his and hid his face in her neck, breathing in and out at the rhythm of her heartbeat.

His entire body was running cold, but she immediately made him warm like a hearth. She had never lost that warmth, even when the winter days came he could always count on curling up next to her to alleviate some of the freezing cold that numbed his fingers and nose. At first he had thought that it was an Ariel thing, but when he met Ariel's sisters on the shore and the oldest, Attina, offered him her hand to take, he had been surprised to find out that it was just as warm as Ariel had always been, even after being underwater and the chilly air of the approaching fall. He started to believe that it was one of the mermaid traits that had stayed with her. Whatever the reason was, he could only be thankful as he soaked in her comforting warmth so he could keep it with him when he stood out there alone.

"Ariel," he whispered in her ear, conscious of how the people around them were starting to shift awkwardly but not caring one bit, "Love, I am so scared."

And he was. Scared that he was actually mistaken about everything, about being ready, about his people wanting him to be king, about being good for anything that wasn't setting a sail and climbing a rope. God, he missed sailing. He would give anything to be out in the water, he just needed a couple of hours at sea and he would be okay. Except he didn't have a couple of hours, he would be crowned king in a matter of minutes.

Ariel pulled away from him a couple of inches and pressed her forehead against his. Her features were still soft with her young age and there was a small imprint above her eyebrow where she had pressed it against one of his pins, but in her eyes she had all the determination of a powerful monarch. His princess would someday be the greatest of queens.

"Everything will go well," she repeated, "Not just the ceremony. I can assure you that for years from now, these people will say that they could not have asked for a better king. You will be okay."

She said it with such conviction, that stubbornness that made Ariel who she was, it was hard not to believe her. He breathed in, willed his lips to form a smile and nodded. Ariel returned it with a pretty smile of her own, then she pulled his face down and, in front of the Queen, the Royal Advisor, a couple of guards and servants and right outside a room full of nobles, she kissed his right dimple and gave him a small peck on the lips. He should have been embarrassed, and maybe he would later, but right then he could only be grateful for the pleasant feeling that spread across his chest.

He pressed his forehead one last time against hers and let her go with the guards. The next time he held her, there would be a crown in his head.

As the door opened and she walked in, he was able to see the attendees bowing before her, as well as seeing her be briefly stopped by Lord and Lady Lindberg. The door closed after he got a peek of her giving a courteous greeting and animatedly conversing with the guests.

"She will be a great queen someday," he heard his mother's voice next to him, mirroring his earlier thoughts. A smile started spreading in Eric's lips. "She has this natural charm that makes people love her, and kindness to give out to the entire world. I am sure the people will love her when she ascends to the throne. When her time comes."

When the plans for the coronation started, they had decided not to crown Ariel just yet. Not simply because she was young (after all, he was barely two years older than her), but also because, as the youngest of seven siblings, she had never received an education on how to be the ruler of a kingdom. She simply wasn't ready yet, and he didn't want to throw all that responsibility on her. But she was learning, she had taken to tagging along his mother on her errands and tasks around the palace. She especially liked going down to town and listening to their subjects' concerns and stories, she was good at that. His mother was right, people just seemed to love her.

It hadn't been easy, especially after word had gotten around that the Prince had been bewitched by a sea monster and had then followed a mermaid down to the sea. People were afraid and some questioned the sanity of the royal family, but slowly, little by little, his people and the seafolk grew to accept and not fear each other. And Ariel, well, there was no way she wouldn't have been accepted. It was impossible not to fall for her.

"I am sure she will," he told his mother. He turned to the people that remained with him. One of the servants was very obviously trying to hold in giggles while the other was red in the face.

"Well, this is it. Ready now?" his mother asked him. Before he could hesitate, he nodded.

His mother called one of the servants, the one that held a dark wooden box with the royal crest, who approached them and carefully opened it for her. Inside there were only a pin of a bird and a small medal of a cross that had belonged to his father inside. Galen and Biergh could've put them on him when they were getting him ready, but his mother had especially requested to put the last adornments on him before the ceremony. 'Pure sentimentality', she had said, but he knew that it meant very much to her.

With graceful fingers, she took the pin. She had had it made for him to be worn at the ceremony, a golden little bird that he knew as the symbol of Esmond, his mother's birthplace. She pinned it right below his left shoulder, then she took the cross. Eric had seen it many times in his father's chest, its blue gemstones and the tiny delicate anchor engraved in the center always caught his eye when he was younger.

It served as a reminder for the king of Vedhavet, his father had told him once, of how much the kingdom depended on the sea and the responsibility that he held to respect it for his people's sake. Another event that he had feared for years was finally here. That medal would be on his chest, the responsibility would be his.

"Now remember," his mother told him as she tried to unclasp the medal, "Squared up shoulders, whatever happens no hunching, don't you dare hunch. Keep your chin up all the way down until the '...in defense of the Kingdom of Vedhavet and its people…' part, just like the rehearsals."

"I know, mum."

"And remember to look straight ahead, this is not a town festivity, no smiling until we are all out of that door." She was struggling with the medal, it was as if the little metal clasp kept slipping off her fingers. "And you kept forgetting the order of the oath responses during the rehearsals, remember that it's starts with-"

"'I am willing'. I know, I got it, mum."

"And if for a second you- Oh, Lord." Whatever fight she was having with the medal, she had clearly lost it. It took Eric a second to process that her hands were shaking. His mother's hands, the hands of Queen Amalie, were shaking right in front of him. Eric gently covered them with his. Despite his fingers being covered by gloves, he could still feel her ice cold skin. Much like him, his mother was always cold.

His hands were steady as he quickly helped her unclasp the medal she had been struggling with.

"Mum," he called her. He saw her take a breath and finally clasp in the medal in the empty spot left by Galen, right above his heart. She looked up at him and her eyes were shining with tears that he knew she wouldn't shed.

"Eric… Oh, my darling boy," she said barely above a whisper. She put her hands and both sides of his face. "I am so, so proud of you, and I know your father would be proud of the man you have become if he could see you. No matter what happens, you will always be the most beautiful gift that has been given to me. Never forget that."

Eric smiled and choked back his own emotions.

"I won't, I will always remember it."

"Very well," the Queen took a deep breath and raised her nose, swiftly wiping her damp eyes with the back of her hand. Eric acted as if he hadn't seen it. "Now you keep that head up to show everyone the pride of Vedhavet in your eyes. No hunching, is that clear?"

He raised his face and pulled back his shoulders in mock exaggeration. "As water, Your Majesty."

She smiled and pinched his chin with affection before moving aside to allow Grimsby to approach him with the servant that carried the royal robe. Another sentimentality, his own manservants could have helped him with it, but Eric had really wanted Grimsby to do it for him, if only to be able to see him one last time before the ceremony. That old beanpole, as annoyed as he made him sometimes and as much as Eric felt that sometimes he expected too much of him, had been with him through it all, through all the bumps and accidents and misfortunes. He wanted to see him at least for a second, to let him know everything he owed him.

Grimsby did not say a word as the servants threw the robe over Eric's shoulders and he clasped it at his front. He did not fuss like his mother, or struggle with the golden strings of the robes. He only calmly fixed any imperfection he saw in the robe and placed the strings into a perfect bow with that same serene smile that he had worn all day. There wasn't anything more to teach or anything more to correct, it seemed to be telling him. He was ready.

"A perfect fit, couldn't have done it better myself," he said when he was done.

"Thank you for everything, Grimsby." Eric knew he would understand everything he was putting behind his words.

Grimsby only kept smiling and gave him a nod. "It was an honor, Your Highness."

Now that one, he knew it would be the last.

"Ready whenever you are, sire," one of the guards told him as they moved to open the doors for his mother and Grimsby.

"Though preferably right on time without missing your cue, darling," his mother remarked, her voice much more controlled than earlier. She smoothed down the front of her cream colored dress and fixed her necklace. Eric's heart started thumping against his chest as he saw the door open and his mother walking in, head up and dignified posture. He heard the voices inside the throne room quiet down and the shuffling of people going to their place and bowing down deeply for her. The Queen's Fanfare reached his ears. The coronation ceremony had started.

He took one breath, then another, he flexed his fingers and pulled down his sleeves. He tried going through the things that he knew, the things he could hold onto, but he found his mind blank. Instead he focused on his mother's steps. She was walking slowly, in perfect timing with the trumpeting. He counted the embroidered golden roses in the back of her dress until the melody of the fanfare changed from the Queen's Fanfare to something that hadn't been played in Vedhavet in years: the King's Parade. That was his cue.

His mouth was completely dry and a small voice in his mind told him that that was as good a moment to run as any. Claudius could be the King of Vedhavet, hell, he was sure Ariel could be the King of Vedhavet if she wanted to. However, instead of running and instead of freezing as he feared he would, he took a step and he was moving forward. Because after all, despite his fears and doubts, he wanted to be the king, and a king his people deserved he would be.

His first thought was that the throne room looked smaller than he thought it would be. It wasn't that the room wasn't spacious, there were wide windows on one side that let light in and the ceiling was high enough to let a beautiful chandelier hang over their head. The two thrones on the opposite wall still looked like they were miles away, but he supposed that it being full of people unlike during the rehearsals and the fact that he barely felt he could breathe made it feel much more cramped.

Head up, no hunching, show the pride of Vedhavet. He walked forward, the royal robe trailing behind him. It was just as heavy as he imagined it would be, it was almost like carrying a person on his back but it wasn't as burdensome as he had thought. He could still walk appropriately slow as the trumpeting of the King's Parade turned into a melodious ceremonial tune of piano and cello.

He could recognize some faces even with his eyes looking straight ahead. His mother was standing on one side of the elevated platform at the back of the hall, along with the officiator who stood at the center. Carlotta and Grimsby were standing next to each other and Carlotta looked as close to bursting into tears as she had in his wedding. He briefly found Galen and Biergh somewhere in the crowd and he surprisingly was able to see the Princess of Glowerhaven with her parents and younger brother before her head dipped into a bow as he walked by.

"So was she Number 16? Number 17?" he remembered Princess Celeste telling him as they walked around the pavilion on the welcoming outdoors lunch they had organized for her family. She had been looking at Ariel while his wife gracefully served a cup of tea for the Queen of Glowerhaven.

There was no resentment or ill intentions behind her amused voice, so Eric allowed himself to laugh with some embarrassment at the reminder of his immature ways. "No, actually you were Number 17. She never had a number."

Princess Celeste had smiled rather bittersweetly. "She must have really been something special."

If he had been allowed to, he would've smiled at the memory, because Ariel had been much more than something special. Finding her wasn't hard, his redhead wife was at the front next to his equally redhead cousins. She glowed like a flower blossom in a field of grass and she was smiling at him with those pretty lips of her. How he wanted to be over with everything already so he could run to her and not let go.

She disappeared from his view much too soon, but the image of her and her words from early remained with him as he finally reached the front of the room. Praying he wouldn't tumble in the process, he took a knee. The officiator began the costumery introduction to the ceremony, which began with a proverb in the old language of Vfelean. Eric tried to focus on his words so that he knew exactly when the oath began but once his eyes had found it, he could not stop looking at the crown.

Of course he had seen it before, he had even worn it for a couple of minutes in the last rehearsal, but seeing it while kneeling in the actual ceremony knowing that he would wear it as king in just a few minutes made it seem different, heavier, more imposing. It shined golden with the streaming sunlight from the windows and it was embedded with the same light blue gemstones as the ones on the cross medal. It was beautiful and terrifying.

The officiator approached the crown and took it firmly in his hands. Eric's breath hitched and he found himself repeating the words that someone had told him over and over in his head. It was almost funny, most conversations he had with his father while he lived had been about the day Eric would become king, and yet those words had not been his. They had come, in fact, from his father-in-law, a few weeks prior when Ariel and him had met him on the shore.

Being born as one is not what makes someone a king, despite what everyone may believe, King Triton had told him, It is the trust that your people will put on you. A king without the love of his kingdom is just a fool with a crown.

Trust and love.

He would earn it, he thought as the officiator stood before him holding the crown above his head, he would earn it even if he had to work his entire life for it.

"Are you, Prince Eric, as the first in line for the throne of Vedhavet, willing to take the Oath?"

He would be a king, in all of its definitions.

"I am willing." His voice was firm and it travelled all around the wide room. He could feel everyone listening.

"Will you solemnly swear to govern the people of this the Kingdom of Vedhavet according to their laws and costumes?"

"I solemnly swear so to do," he responded.

"Will you to your power cause law and justice, in mercy, to be executed in all your judgements?"

"I will."

"Will you promise to always remain worthy, to preserve the heritage of honor and courage bequeathed to you by the former bearers of this Crown, and to give your life in defense of the Kingdom of Vedhavet and its people if you were ever called to do so?"

Eric lowered his head as the officiator brought the crown down.

"All this I promise to do."

The crown was put on his head, and so it was done.

He breathed in and out.

He would be okay.

"Then by the power lawfully vested in me, I crown you Eric, King of Vedhavet."

He rose, feeling the weight of the crown very suddenly. He gave a half turn and he faced the crown. There was a respectful silence, but the faces before him were smiling and proud.

"All bow before His Royal Majesty King Eric!"

His eyes found hers. He couldn't smile yet but he so wanted to, because her face was full of pride and love and so much joy that she was pretty much brimming with it. She would be by his side through it all. Ariel, his wife, the mermaid that found him, the lost voice that enchanted him and returned to him. He could do anything if she was next to him.

Yes, he would be okay.

.

I can't believe this is the final chapter.

First of all, I want to thank you all of you who have read this through and stuck with me until the end. I've been working on this since May 2020 and it began as a pretty personal project, something that I didn't think I would post because I thought that no one would want to read it. Rewatching The Little Mermaid during quarantine, I became so interested on how Eric's inner conflict between the mystery girl that saved him and this charming strange girl that he was falling for could've gone. I became so obsessed with it that I consumed all TLM content I could find, piecing this story together with the little clues I could find in song lyrics and small movie details. I really cannot thank you enough for showing interest in my little silly story and for making my return to writing so happy.

I hope I get to write with Eric's voice again someday, but for now, this has been all.