Well, welcome to day seven, and the final day of Ariel's spell. Thanks to everyone that reviewed, favorited, or contacted me about the story, your words really do mean a lot. This is the final chapter, but if I get requests I can write an epilogue or two (which are generally happier).

For anyone who follows me as a writer, I will eventually get back to the Frozen and AG stories, but I also think I'm going to do a Tangled one. I'm sketching that out now, so if you like Rapunzel too, I've got great news.

So, enjoy the chapter, and, as always, please review!

…

If she were never to see another day, Ariel would enjoy the one she had. There was always more waiting for her, beyond the expanses of the ocean, the heights of the sky, and the bounds of her own heart. She knew Eric loved her, so she had received the love she wanted the most, and the true human experience; unfair, messy, blissful experience.

She knew he would take a stand for her, and the hope pulsed through her body, from the tips of her fingers to the tips of her toes. There was more, whether or not it was being a human, whether or not it was Eric. She hoped it was, but after years of yearning and a week of worrying, she was at peace with her future, for she had hope. And what, after all, maintains humanity despite tragedy, mankind's failing, and loss, if not hope for brighter futures and the courage to build them?

Ariel knew she had won her humanity. Even, were she to lose her legs to a life of sea foam, she had found her humanity.

…

How unfair. How absolutely callous and unfair. Cora sat on the edge of gardens, where she could overlook the sea, and see the tides wash away the footprints and imprints made by a couple that did not include her. Ariel and Eric had left moments earlier, after talking and laughing together. Eric had found out, but she guessed she always knew Carlotta would've told. Hopefully it was better this way.

Cora rolled the vial between her palms. How unfair; that she was pushed to these points, that she had to fight so hard for a marriage Eric could simply step away from. Did he not realize what was at stake? Love. The purest, yet most easily corrupted part of our universe. If he actually left her, it would extinguish like a candle in a storm and she would be left without Love, and without him.

She felt the knots of guilt, having stooped to the manipulative levels she never knew she was capable of. A false pregnancy. Bartering a potion from a witch – with an unborn child at stake! Babies, even as an idea, meant so much to her. She felt like a hypocrite and a snake, but couldn't bring herself to toss the vial into the ocean, to dump it out, to spill even a precious drop, because that would mean all was lost.

But how to execute this? She couldn't force it down his throat, and he wouldn't drink a vial of potion without asking questions: Eric wasn't stupid. The witch said it would mix with anything, and all of this generally seemed too good to be true! But Cora supposed she had to simply trust the witch – it's not like anyone else was on her side.

Breakfast would be soon, but Cora inherently knew that Eric wouldn't come. He'd be with Ariel, and she'd drag him away from the concept of time and envelop him in their little world; where one runs in and out of the sea with little concern of the sand displaced or sun exposure. She would meet him again at dinnertime, and that would be her last shot. Cora wrapped her fingers individually around the vial, savoring the little smacks her skin made against the glass. This was a solution, and it was real, physically present, and in her left hand. She snapped her ring finger around, and felt a quick pang, as she realized her wedding ring still presented itself, just as it always had.

…

He had always dreamed of the sea, and existing in a marriage where he was tied to land seemed so strange, so foreign, even after years. As a child, as a young man, in all his former years, Eric had thought of his wedding on and off. Eric didn't think he thought of his wedding an improper amount – it crossed his mind from time to time (it was a significant decision, after all), but he didn't find himself constantly preoccupied with it.

But he had always dreamed of the sea, and being able to share it. He didn't own it, of course, but he knew the best spots for swimming, the days to go sailing, and although it wasn't his, it was his. And he wanted to give these parts away and spread them around; with a wife, with his children.

Eric thought of his boyhood dreams as he sat down in the sand, watching Ariel sprint into the water and splash around.

He had pictured a grand wedding, with all his friends and family on a well-decorated boat, sailing out to the sea just in time to catch the sunset. As they'd go farther out, the space would become all theirs, and he and his bride would just be a speck on the ocean, floating and bobbing as they held each other and recited vows. Eric had pictured cutting cake and popping open champagne, not minding if a little shot overboard, because it looked like sea foam anyway. He had pictured being married aboard his favorite ship.

He had pictured taking a child out sailing. Sometimes he pictured a boy, sometimes he pictured a girl. It didn't truly matter. Sometimes he pictured both. Their features changed, with changing hair and eye colors. Changing skin tones and heights. He pictured them as all sort of different people; all sorts of looks and personalities. A scrawny blonde boy leaping overboard into waves. A tall, tan girl sticking her leaning over the side of the boat, swiping at fish with every intent to grab one. Eric had pictured all sorts of children, but they were always on the sea.

He had pictured himself taking his whole family out, far away from the castle, to see news parts of the beach. Gather new shells. Feel new water. But they were always as bound to the sea as he, and knew that when he was sharing it with them he was telling them how he loved his family, and how he was bringing them there because there's no one else he'd want there.

Eric had pictured the sea, and Eric had pictured the scene he was living right now. Just in front of the castle, a bit north of it to be specific. He laid on the beach and felt sand creep under his hems, and watched as his favorite girl ran farther into the water, loving it as much as he always had.

"Eric, get in here!" Ariel laughed, splashing water back at him. But she was too far from the shore, and it didn't land anywhere close.

"Well, who could refuse that argument?" Eric laughed, pulling off his boot and running in after her.

Eric had pictured his life, and in life in the sea. He could attach words and scenes to it. But, Eric was only now aware that he was picturing Ariel, a girl who felt the waves running through her, and felt as bound to the ocean as one could be. He was picturing Ariel, and now, children with her features and spirit. They would be bound together in time soon enough, for once a person could find direction to their dreams, they pursued them. And he had always dreamed of the sea.

…

Eric missed breakfast. He and Ariel had spent the morning at the beach, laughing and purely enjoying each other's company and conversation. They walked into the castle hand in hand, already bound to each other in a way they were only starting to put credit to.

"I'll talk with Cora after dinner."

"Are you nervous?" Ariel asked. She felt anxious to see how Cora would react, nervous that it would somehow go wrong, but she didn't feel guilty.

"A little. No one really ever plans to have this conversation." Eric laughed without humor. "But even though it should be wrong, I feel like this is the right thing. For us – the us that's her and me, and the us that's me and you."

"This is so messy." Ariel stuck her tongue out, and stepped into the castle.

"We'll clean it up. We're working on it."

Ariel felt the last beams of sun on the back of her neck. It was the seventh day, and there was perhaps two hours left until sunset. Just enough time for Eric to speak with Cora, and propose to her. Should nothing go wrong, it'd be smooth sailing from this day forward. Should something go wrong…

Ariel chose not to meditate on that, and merely moved closer to the dining hall.

…

Cora was already sitting at the table. It was set for three. That was normal now.

She fingered the vial one last time.

Well, do it! What are you waiting for?

She uncorked it.

If he doesn't want you, how is this supposed to help? The witch said it'd bind him to me for three days, and that Ariel would be gone by then. That's a good start, but she never said that it'd make him love me. Will losing Ariel simply slide me into her place? Unlikely.

She looked over at the door. The couple hadn't entered yet, but would likely soon.

Just do it! He might not love you after all this is done, sure. But at least you'll know you tried everything. You'd be no worse off, besides. Best case scenario, Ariel's gone, and he finally falls for you. Love is saved. Worse case, well, this is it.

Cora nodded, assuring her resolve, and dumped every drop into Eric's goblet, which was already filled with white wine. She let out a shuttering sigh, and leaned back in her chair, just as Ariel and Eric walked in.

"Evening." Eric said, a little stiffly, as if he was nervous.

They sat down, and the first course was brought out. Eric's goblet sat in between him and Cora, and she had to will herself from looking at it every moment. Act natural.

You're doing the wrong thing! You tricked him once and you felt horrible about that!

Her mind raced. What could be done now, anyway?

It's too late. Who cares! He deserves this anyway. He proposed and married you of his own free will, it's about time he acted like it.

She took a bite of food, but didn't taste it.

But winning his love this way, should you do it all, would be worthless. If love isn't willingly and freely given, it isn't true. He may love Ariel, you don't know, but you do know that he doesn't love you. And that's the end of it, and you can't change it. You can keep on loving him til the day you die, but you can't make him love you back. And no matter how you try and force it, it won't come.

She tried to push back on her own thoughts.

Oh, but it isn't fair! He's my husband, he's the man I've spent years with, he's supposed to love me!

But she could feel her own arguments wearing thin.

Love is never owed. Not under any circumstances. In some senses it may be reasonable or logical to expect it, but you aren't owed a certain amount of tenderness, affection, or concern. You want it, you may deserve it, but Eric doesn't have to love you.

Cora flicked her eyes over to Eric. He still hadn't taken a sip of his drink. His hand moved, as if to grab for it, and Cora flicked her hand to the side, knocking the goblet over and spilling every last drop of its contents onto the floor.

Ariel made a startled noise and Eric looked concerned.

"Oops." Cora said flatly. "I just had a hand spasm."

A maid scurried over to clean the mess and get Eric a fresh glass of wine.

The rest of the dinner was uneventful.

…

Eric waited until Cora left the table of her own volition, and then decided it was time to talk to her. Ariel bid him good luck as he went off seeking her, and eventually found her in the room that would've been the baby's nursery.

Eric paused in the doorway and teetered back and forth on his feet. He wondered if Cora heard him or sensed his presence. But she ignored him, standing in the middle of the room and looking out the window at her gardens, so he couldn't be sure.

"Cora, I have to tell you something. Something I think you already know."

She turned slowly the face him, and sat down in one of two plush chairs. She had planned to nurse here. Cora let out a shaky exhale, motioning to the seat right by her. She felt weakened by nerves, and they clutched at her in waves she hadn't anticipated. She hoped that they would ebb soon.

"Cora, I don't want to hurt you."

They wouldn't.

"You've said enough."

Eric dipped his head down. "I won't ask for your forgiveness."

"You may receive it one day." She spoke softly, with all the strength she could muster. "Just, not today." She leaned forward, and covered his hands with hers. "I do still love you, Eric. And like you. I still have faith that you're a good man. But I understand that, even with all of that, you won't come back to me. I'm glad you found love, even if it had to happen this way."

"You're too good."

Cora did not disagree. "I get to make this decision, and I get to be selfish now. I'm not going to be in a marriage where you don't love me. I'm leaving, Eric."

"I'm sorry." He said again, sincerely and sadly.

She pursed her lips. "I am too." Cora rose, looking down at him; he was hunched forward enough to reach only her knee. "I don't want my things. Not most of them, anyway. I'll take what I want, and I'll be gone within the hour."

"Please, let me make sure you're able to get wherever you need to."

"No. Eric, I don't want your help." Cora said firmly. "I don't want to borrow your horses, or use your trunks, or have you write to me. I will take things that were mine long before I married you, and I'll get to where I need to go of my own volition. Please, do not send for me, search for me, or write to me. When I'm ready, I'll contact you." She nodded.

"As you wish." Eric nodded, seated still.

Cora sighed, looking at him one last time. "Goodbye, my prince."

…

Some moments are meant to be private, for the sake of respect, and, in this case, for the sake of understanding that, after all a couple has been through, they deserve a few moments alone.

Eric's proposal is one of those moments. He met Ariel on the beach afterwards, and they consoled each other, promising to talk more that evening. He proposed to her; simply, and ringless. He swore he'd do it properly once they were out of the woods, but with a curse hanging over them, time was of the essence, and the sun was about to set.

He cried, she cried, and before the sun set, they were betrothed to each other.

…

Cora wept, not inherently for the loss of her husband or her marriage, but for the loss of Love itself, a material she had always reckoned too precious, too fleeting, to be wasted or foregone. She rubbed the back of her hand across her eyes, and found it almost alarming that she wasn't bawling, that she wasn't simply dissolving into tears. She thought she'd be more upset. Sobbing, raging, anything! She was upset, yes, ending a marriage hurt no matter what, but she felt strangely at peace, like a wound had been closed, but still stung.

She removed her wedding band and walked across the hall, carrying it clenched up in her palm. Cora tossed it into the sea that Eric loved so much. She wouldn't have it anywhere near her gardens, and she couldn't bear to keep it on her person.

Feeling suddenly quite free, she crept out of the palace and down to the water. A strange sense had possessed her, like she was being drawn there through a spell. Maybe it was finally her time to understand this part of Eric that had so long eluded her. Maybe this was closure.

She felt like she was waning; on the cusp of fainting. But still, she plodded forward to the seashore. No one was in sight, for miles on either side of her. Even a faraway form could not be spotted.

Oh! She yelped as she felt a pang on her foot. Had something bitten her? No! She felt it again, at the small of her back, at the nape of her neck. She grabbed at herself as the sun took away it's light, forcing her to examine her body is quickly approaching darkness. Ow! Ow! Ow! Cora stumbled forward, reaching the water itself, and she felt to her knees. They felt like they were fizzing, and she began to cry because what was happening!

She tried to cry out for help, but her voice choked, and no one was there to help her anyway. She fell forward, trying to right herself with her pained limbs and spazzing mind.

The Sea Witch laughed, reclining and watching from below. Echoing through the her lair was her prophecy; whoever Eric rejects as his partner will be reduced to sea foam, and doomed to float inconsequentially throughout the sea.

All Cora had built and become was ripped from her and it hurt, hurt, hurt, as she dissolved into the sea. It hurt, and then it didn't. She felt light, and shallow, and allowed herself to float freely and comingle with the waves. She was dragged off the shore, out to mix with the rest of the sea foam, and feel the touch of souls lost to the sea times ago.

…

The couple moved down to their true home, and found solace on the beach. Night had come, and they were so wrapped up in each other, it seemed as if they were affixed to the sky themselves.

Ariel began to dream up plans for a wedding, on the grandest wedding ship you ever saw! A reception with a three tier cake, a ring-bearing dog, and a flower seagull. There were plans in her head for a dress layered like waves, and as light as foam.

Ariel and Eric stood together, knee deep in water, Ariel relevelling in how she could dance, forever, even here. Eric looked down at her and beamed, she had this pull on him that rendered him powerless; left him feeling like sea foam on a wave. The future bounded out in front of them like a small boat pushed out by the Caspian Winds. They came together and kissed, their love as deep as the sea, and pure as a young girl's voice.