(open)

[just_another]

Despite his mother's warnings, Joel has found himself on the beach once again, not far from where he sailed straight into a storm not three days earlier. She would be furious if she found him here, but this is where he feels most calm, where he's always felt most able to think clearly and lately it seems he's in desperate need of thinking clearly.

So much has happened over the past several days and while Joel is completely certain what he feels for Spencer is real and genuine, he's also truly conflicted for the first time in his life. He has duties. There are expectations that have been placed upon him and in less than two weeks time, he is expected to have picked a bride.

That's something Joel knows he simply cannot do.

Walking along the sand, he looks out into the water for a moment, then begins to shed his clothes. He doesn't care how it might look, if there's anyone nearby to see. His fingers fly over the buttons of his shirt and he drops it to the sand. A moment later his pants follow and he wades into the water in only his breeches, pushing through the waves and then diving under, cutting through with strong strokes. The cold water clears his head and he turns over, floating on his back for what feels like forever before he finally makes his way back to shore.

It's as he's dressing again, his pants once more fastened and his shirt half done up that his vision suddenly goes dark. It's like he's under water, he realizes. Shafts of sun cut through the gently rolling waves, but the deeper he sinks, the darker it gets. There's a flash of a shimmering tail, too big to be a fish, too small to be a shark. Dark laughter. A brief glimpse of a beautiful woman with long, black hair. She's smiling, but Joel doesn't much like what he sees in that smile.

She's saying something, her lips moving, but the voice that comes out isn't hers. It's Spencer's. It's the voice he remembers from that day on the beach and Joel stumbles in the sand, only realizing then that he's still standing on the beach. All of this, everything he's seeing, it isn't really happening.

He directs his attention back to the woman with the tail just in time to hear Spencer's voice whisper two words. A promise.

He doesn't know what any of it means, but as soon as it's begun, it's gone. Joel is left standing on the beach, his hands still on the buttons of his shirt, staring off into the waves as if they can give him some kind of answer.

[Joel's an adopted prince who doesn't know he's also a witch and has no idea he's just had a premonition while on the beach anywhere you want to find him. Enjoy? :D]

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[just_another]

"Six," Joel says, his voice soft as he exhales. There's so much he doesn't know about his own life, what might have been had he not been found by the queen. Sometimes he wonders why his parents had chosen to give him up, if it had been because they didn't want him or couldn't care for him. As a child, when he hadn't been busy pretending his mother had been a mermaid, he'd liked to imagine maybe she had needed to let him go in order to keep him safe. That maybe someone was going to hurt him and so she'd made the greatest sacrifice she could and she had given him up so that he would be able to live. It's a silly story, a fairytale he'd told himself as a child so that the thought of abandonment might hurt a little less, but at least he'd never known her. At least whatever it was he's lost, he'll never know to miss it. Six is young, but it's old enough to have memories and it's old enough to be aware of the loss. Joel can't imagine how painful it must have been.

"I'm sorry," he says, reaching across the sand to touch Spencer's hand with the tips of his fingers, a gentle brush against the back of his knuckles. "That must have been terrible." If he thinks about it too long, if he thinks about how horrified his father would be if he were to lose his mother, he can feel himself growing faintly anxious, as if somehow thinking about it might actually make it happen. Joel's father is the king, but that doesn't mean he's not without his own weaknesses and he's certain that if his mother were to ever die, his father, the entire family, they would all be quite lost. She's the backbone of everything they are. She holds them together.

And Joel is certain no one ever thanks her for it. He's filled with a sudden rush of love for his mother and a desire to go back to the palace and tell her how much he appreciates her. She'd be bewildered most likely and she'd laugh it off, but he thinks she would appreciate the gesture all the same and so he decides he will. Even if it's only a quiet moment, a kiss to her cheek and a whispered thank you, he has a feeling that may be enough for her for the moment. It isn't as if he says it nearly often enough in the first place and something, he imagines, is better than nothing.

"Are you close with your father?" he asks, returning his attention to Spencer once more. A death in the family like that might bring them closer together, but he also imagines it could drive a wedge between them if not handled very well. The loss of someone that important, that significant has to be hard enough, but to think of how to explain it to a child, someone as young as six must add another level of difficulty that he's sure not everyone handles very well. But Spencer is so kind, so well rounded that Joel has to believe he's still close with his father.

People don't just turn out as incredible as Spencer has, not without guidance, not without at least some help. Joel thinks the way people are raised has a lot to do with how they treat others and he's seen nothing but kindness and honesty from Spencer. "He must be worried about you," he says. "Do you think there's a way for us to send word to him that you're alright?"

[doublethepain]

He smiles sadly at the question of his father, nodding slowly as his gaze lowers to the larger rock still planted in the sand. That's what his father has always been to him, of course, a rock, a constant who Spencer had feared for a few years after his mother's death would leave him, too, but he hadn't. No, his father hadn't left, but Spencer had and very suddenly, he feels overcome with the guilt of living his father alone without a word of where he'd gone. April had promised to find him, to tell him that Spencer was alright, but he hasn't seen her since that day Ersa had granted him legs so he's had no way to determine whether his father had gotten word or not.

He lowers his gaze, knowing very well that there's little hope of finding another way to contact his father, and he picks the rock up to examine it more closely for a moment. It's dark but for a collection of white spots, longer than it is wide, and its underside is flatter than its top. There have been moments in between enjoying his time with Joel that Spencer has wished he could speak to his father again, at least see him, if only to get an indication of whether is father is angry at him or not. He thinks that in the end, it will be enough just to have Spencer back in the ocean--back where he belongs, his father would say--but that's just it; he doesn't belong there because that isn't where Joel is. Where he belongs is at Joel's side, he feels the truth in that more clearly than anything else, and even his father wouldn't be able to sway him from the love he has for the prince.

Humans are nothing but trouble, son, no good can come of being near them.

How wrong his father had been, as well as his intentions may have been when he'd delivered that warning. Spencer knows his father has every reason to believe the truth in that, to believe that humans are hungry for nothing but power and control over everything they touch, even the waters that the merfolk call home; but even with what he's known, what he's been told, Spencer hadn't been able to bring himself to believe that all humans are alike. His mother had been killed by them, it's true, and Spencer hopes that those people have suffered grievously for it; but Joel isn't like that. Nearly none of the people in the palace are like that, they have been kind and caring and gentle, and Spencer wishes his father could see that.

He pushes himself to his knees, crawling closer to where sand is wet from the crash of the waves, and he tilts his head back to the let the ocean breeze blow his hair back from his face. It's peaceful out here, as he'd known it would be, and if it weren't for the fact that the maids go to such trouble every night to put his bed in order, Spencer thinks he'd be content to simply sleep out here on the beach while listening to the water meet and leave the shore. It's close to home, at least, close to where he still might end up if all of this comes crashing down around him; but if that does happen, he takes comfort in knowing that his father will be there to help him try to pick up the pieces.

Spencer breathes in the salty air, exhaling deeply and rolling his shoulders before winding his arm back with a tightened grip on the rock. He listens for the waves, waits for them to wash away, and with the flick of his wrist, he lets the rock go flying as his eyes snap open. The rock skips once, twice, three times before the waves carry it away, and Spencer smiles to himself before looking over his shoulder at Joel. He misses his father, he regrets not taking better care to keep his father informed of what he'd done, but Spencer can't imagine taking any of this back. If Ersa were to offer him his tail back right now and live a life full of riches with his father but with the caveat that he could never see Joel again, he wouldn't take it. There's nothing in the world that could be more valuable to him than this, than what they have and what more they could have, if only fate will be so kind as to give it to them.

[just_another]

Joel could watch him forever.

It's not a particularly startling realization, but it's one he arrives at slowly as he watches the way Spencer looks down at the rock in his hand and then how he gets up and moves toward the water. Despite the pain Joel knows he's experiencing, he moves with a certain kind of grace that Joel knows he's never had, something he'll never be able to find. He's no taller than Spencer, but he is bigger, wider through the shoulders and across his back, unwieldy when it comes to matters such as dance or even most competitive sports the princes are supposed to find themselves involved with. He's never been interested in hunting or cricket or anything else he's supposed to do, mostly because he's always found the movements to be awkward and uncomfortable. Sailing and swimming, those are the things Joel loves, and he can see how Spencer would be in the water, too. He can see the strength and the ease of movement, the way he'd cut through the waves.

And Joel would truly be able to watch him forever. Maybe there's a chance for that, maybe he can find a way to make it all work out so that they can be together. Maybe he won't have to go another day without being able to see Spencer and Joel has never been much of an optimist, but he catches that hope and holds onto it with everything he can. This is what he's moving toward. He watches Spencer pull back his arm, he watches the flick of his wrist that adds the spin to skip the rock across the water, and when he looks up, he finds Spencer is looking back at him and he smiles. This is what he's holding onto, this man and that smile and every movement he makes that Joel feels is certain must be a type of magic with the way it so enchants him.

He considers going to Spencer and offering his hand, helping him to his feet, but instead Joel shuffles forward on his knees as well. So much of what he's done with Spencer has been done without thought because he knows if he allows himself to get caught up in the possibilities, in the what ifs and the hypotheticals, he'll stop moving altogether. He'll lose any and all confidence he sometimes finds. Joel can't think when he's around Spencer, he can't allow himself that, because his thoughts will only get in the way of what he wants. Of what he thinks they both want. He's never been especially physically affectionate, preferring to keep his hugs to his family. Even meeting other royal families has been uncomfortable for him when he's done his best to have to avoid pressing kisses to the hand of every woman he meets, but this is different. Everything with Spencer is.

On his knees, he finds himself behind Spencer and he simply leans forward, pressing his cheek between Spencer's shoulder blades and resting there for a moment. All he can hear is the pull and the swell of the waves, the sound of Spencer's breathing and his own heart beat loud in his ears. His hands remain by his sides and he closes his eyes and keep his ear pressed to Spencer's back and just listens to his breathe for several long moments. He could watch him forever, this much is true, but he could listen to him forever. Just the sound of his heart, the pull of air into his lungs. He could sit here forever with this single point of contact and never want for anything else in his entire life.