get in, loser, we're going shopping [open; fairy tale plot]

[doublethepain]

An entire day has already passed, and Spencer is no closer to being used to walking on these legs than he'd been when April had helped him reach the shore. Each step is pure agony and for that alone, he is admittedly relieved that his voice has been taken from him for the time being; but in spite of his fears that Joel would tire of him quickly, that the prince would send him on his way after seeing him fed and clothed, he's been invited to stay in the palace for-- well, for as long as any of the royal family sees fit, he supposes.

Joel had demanded--in as princely a way as possible, of course--that Spencer be seen to, and the workers in the palace had been quick about putting him in a shirt and trousers that he supposes fit him well enough, not that it matters much to him, seeing as he's never had to wear clothes before in the first place. Joel hadn't left his side once, though he'd been very gentlemanly about keeping his back turned while Spencer had been helped into his clothes, and though they hadn't been able to converse, Spencer doesn't think he's ever felt more attended to in his life. The way Joel had looked at him as the evening continued on, as he'd sat across from him at the table while Spencer had been unapologetic about shoveling the stew laid before him into his mouth, is unlike anything he's ever known.

Only the introduction to the king and queen had made him flush terribly, though they'd been nothing but kind to him upon discovering he had been the one to save their son from drowning the day before. Joel's father had laid a gentle hand on his shoulder while his mother had offered a near tearful thanks punctuated with a kiss to his cheek and that had been that before Spencer had been ushered off to a large room with a bed that could certainly fit three of him comfortably on it.

Worse than the pain in his legs had been when the time had come to bid farewell to Joel for the evening, though he'd been assured that if he needed anything, he could call for him anytime. Spencer had slept soundly, though, exhausted from everything that had happened in so short a time, and by the time he'd woken up the next morning, he'd been more than ready to face the day. Now, he's exploring the marketplace, brought here by carriage and equipped with a cane meant to assist him with his walking. Joel had promised to come find him after he'd finished with what Spencer can only assume are his princely duties, though he hasn't the faintest idea what that might entail, but he's content with that for now. He can almost grow numb, in fact, to each sharp jolt that shoots through him with every foot forward as he admires the jewels and fruits and vegetables that are all for sale here, smiling and shaking his head at every merchant who calls out to him.

He has thirteen days left to make being human count for something; but in this moment, Spencer just wants to allow himself the chance to enjoy it the best he can.



[OOC: Open to all!]

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[just_another]

By the time they leave, Joel is laden with fruit and vegetables, more than enough to make his mother happy, and even as he settles the coin with the merchant, he has a hard time looking away from Spencer. He knows what he's doing lacks a certain sense of propriety, letting himself be seen staring at Spencer with undisguised affection, but he's so tired of having to be proper and having to worry about what others might think. There is so many for whom life isn't fair and Joel understands that he's been dealt a much better hand than most, but there comes a level of responsibility with it that he thinks he would be very willing to give up if it meant he could do what he wanted with whoever he wanted. If he had to come and run his own stall here every day just to make ends meet, but got to go home at the end of it all to Spencer, then he would do so happily. Better yet, if they had to run a stall together, a place where they could sell their wares to others and then talk or even just smile at each other in the moments when the customers were few and far between, he thinks he might very well be the happiest man alive. His life has been wonderful, full of things he knows many people will never see, but he would give it all up for a chance at a life with Spencer.

He would give it all up in a second.

"You look so happy," he says without meaning so as they head back in the direction of the carriage. Joel needs to set down the fruit and vegetables before he visits the butcher and he wants to take Spencer deeper into the market as well. His mother hasn't specifically asked him to bring home any flowers, but there's an area he loves in the back corner, a place kept cool and in the shade where people sell their flowers and other plants, blooming bushes and quiet, slow creeping vines. It's where many of the plants in the gardens have come from and while Joel plans on taking Spencer on a tour of those, there's something different about them here in the market. They seem just a little more wild, a little more free.

"I mean... not just with the apple, I just..." He smiles faintly, shaking his head at himself as he hands off the baskets of fruit to the men waiting for them at the carriage. He's asked if they should wait and Joel shakes his head, sending them on their way. They'll come back once they're done unloading and they'll wait for their prince, only because he's made them promise they'll be here to take Spencer back to the palace. There are times when Joel enjoys the walk back, the silence that comes with being alone on the road, the peace it allows him to feel, but now is not the time for that. It pains Spencer to walk and although Joel doesn't know why that is or what he can do to help, he does know that he can limit just how far Spencer needs to walk. As much as he would love to walk that road with Spencer, their fingers threaded, their palms pressed warmly together, he won't cause him any more pain than he can help.

As the carriage pulls away, Joel lets himself touch Spencer again, his hand against the small of his back as he guides him toward that back corner he'd been thinking of. The butcher can wait until it's time for them to leave, but he wants to take Spencer into the shade of the trees, to show him the plants and the flowers, to see his expression. "I mean being here," he says finally, realizing he still can't really explained himself. "You look happy being here. In the marketplace."

Besides the encounter with Shea, which Joel will never forget, it's true. Spencer looks at things with a wonder Joel has never really known himself. These things are as familiar to him as anything else and it's amazing to see this place again through someone else's eyes. He can't let himself believe that any of that happiness has to do with him, but he finds himself wishing it did. He wants to believe that maybe Spencer feels that way when he looks at him, because when Joel watches him, when he sees him smile and catches the light in his eyes, he knows he's never felt happier.

[doublethepain]

Spencer wishes so badly that Ersa had taken anything but his voice, absolutely anything at all. He wants to stop Joel right here, in the middle of the bustling marketplace, and explain that the very reason he looks so happy is because he's found the first and only person who has ever made him feel like he can look forward to a future full of true, undeniable, visceral love. He feels it deeply in his gut, the extent of what Joel does to him, and whether he's succeeded at the end of these two weeks or not, Spencer knows without a shadow of a doubt that it's something that will never go away. Excited as he is by the discovery of what's around them, what has him smiling widest is knowing that he can share these experiences with Joel.

But he's been robbed of his ability to say these things, to appropriately explain himself, so all he can do instead is shrug a shoulder as if only casually agreeing with the prince before grinning playfully and gently nudging his finger against Joel's chest. If I'm happy, it's because of you. Whether Joel will interpret that the way he means it, Spencer doesn't know, but he at least hopes that the prince will understand that in some way, there's nothing about his company that Spencer doesn't enjoy. Even the pain in his legs is more easily ignored with Joel at his side, which isn't to say that it's disappeared entirely by any means but at the very least, it's just a little more bearable when he's privy to Joel's breathtaking smile.

Aside from the one mishap with Shea, which Spencer suspects he'll likely be thinking of more later when the sun has set and he's back to being alone in his room, the trip to the market has been more enjoyable than he would have expected. There are so many people here, people who Spencer knows to practice just a bit of caution around now rather than invest his trust so fully at first meeting, but a great majority of them have been nothing but friendly and kind. Even in the presence of royalty, there are few who look to be overly intimidated and nervous, which really only speaks to just how well-liked Joel and his family really are.

It's a relief to see that someone who could easily be a terror if raised differently can be so kind to those who are not as fortunate as he. Spencer knows he is one of those himself, but Joel hasn't treated him that way. Joel hadn't stuck his nose up at finding Spencer wrapped in sails, he hadn't questioned Spencer's complete lack of coin; he'd simply taken Spencer's hand and shown him a path to something better. Spencer has known cruel royalty, he's been met more than once with sneers by princes and princesses who are so blinded by their own entitlement that they've forgotten what decency towards those who aren't necessarily of use to them is really like. Joel is different. Joel is different from anyone he's ever known and the allure of that knowledge only adds to why Spencer feels himself falling more and more in love with him with every passing moment.

He's so caught up in his fondness for Joel that he barely realizes where they've walked until he notices that there's a distinct change in how much sunlight is beaming down on them. They've stepped into shade, a long stretch of it, and as Spencer focuses his eyes on what's ahead of them, he comes to a full stop. It's absolutely stunning, he thinks, lips parting in pleasant surprise. There are plants surrounding them, everywhere and in each direction, and he spins in a small circle to get a full view of the brightly colored flowers that he's noticed throughout the palace. They're not so contained here, it seems, with buds overflowing from stands and the greenest of green bursting from plants Spencer doesn't recognize.

At home, he's seen many beautiful things. Beautifully colored coral, sea flowers that seem to glow even in the darkest parts of the water, shells of all different shapes and sizes that he knows folk on land would gawk at with great admiration; but there's something about the novelty of all this that makes Spencer laugh, though silently, with unbridled delight. He fixates on a selection of flowers that are colored red and pink and white--roses, he's told they are--before moving on to yellow daisies and purple lilies and orange marigolds, all the way looking for Joel's approval before plucking a bit of each until he has an enormous arrangement gathered in his arm.

There's no order to it, absolutely none whatsoever, but he thinks that perhaps the queen would like at least something from what one of the merchants calls a bouquet, and he can't help but feel a bit of pride that he's been able to contribute to making the palace that much brighter. He's practically skipping by the time they reach the end of the flowery corner of the marketplace, the pain in his legs be damned because he's quite certain that nothing he does today could possibly be more enjoyable than this.

[just_another]

Joel isn't sure if that means what he thinks, that Spencer is happy here because of him, but that one nudge of Spencer's finger against his chest is more than enough to send Joel's heart galloping at speeds he's not accustomed to. He's never spent time with anyone who has made his heart race like this, nor someone who has made him smile as easily and freely. Joel has always been a relatively private, quiet man, and while he's had a few friends here and there, being a prince has made it difficult to really get to know anyone. Members of other royal families are the ones he's seen most often and when they're around each other, it's usually because someone's mother or father is hoping for a love match and as a result everyone is on their best and usually most wooden behaviour. And people in the kingdom, while always very kind to him, have also kept their distance simply because he's a prince. No one makes jokes around him, no one laughs with him. No one nudges him or touches him as freely as Spencer does and even if he only means he's happy to be here in friendship, Joel knows he'll take it.

He knows he can't imagine a life without Spencer now that he's here. Even if they can never speak, even if they never do more than this, than walk through the market together or sit quietly in the gardens, he'll take it and he'll soak up every moment of attention he's given. He'd never understood what Caden felt when he was with April. Not until now.

And now he knows why his brother was so heartbroken when she walked away. If he had to watch Spencer do the same, Joel is fairly certain his heart would simply stop beating in his chest. He would no longer exist as the man he is now. That is how people grow cold, he realizes that now, and he's grateful that coldness hasn't seemed to have crept over his brother. Caden may not think he's capable of loving again, but he's not pulled away from his family and Joel thinks that is important.

He also doesn't know if he'd be capable of the same.

And as he watches Spencer gather a bouquet, as he watches him study the flowers and the colours with amazement and such life in his eyes, Joel finds himself wanting so badly just to kiss him for the second time in the day. He wants to stop Spencer where he is and slide his hands along the angular edges of his jaw and tip their heads together until he can feel Spencer's mouth warm under his. He wants to do something that makes him drop all those flowers, he wants them to scatter under their feet as he walks them back toward a darker corner, not because he's embarrassed to be seen, but simply because the things he would very much like to do require more privacy.

What keeps him from moving forward is not only his sense of duty to his family, but a healthy dose of fear. He's truly terrified that everything he's feeling is one-sided, that Spencer views him only as a friend, that there can't possibly be more than that.

And so he only smiles when Spencer turns to look at him for approval. "It's beautiful," he says of the arrangement, but he isn't looking at the flowers when he says it. He's watching the way Spencer moves, almost as if he's forgotten the pain in his legs and if Joel has given that, even only for an instant, then he's satisfied. To have done something like that, to have shown him something that makes him happy enough that he feels good, that's the most wonderful thing Joel can imagine.

He pays the merchants almost without looking at them, trailing after Spencer, watching him with a faint smile. "So you like it here," he says. "I had hoped you would."

[doublethepain]

The more colorful corner of the marketplace comes to an end soon after Joel has paid for the flowers, and Spencer is turning to double back toward the start of it when Joel's words make him stop. I had hoped you would, the prince had said, and perhaps to anyone else, it might not sound like much of anything but to Spencer, it means so much. That Joel would think of him, would try to lead him to a place he thinks Spencer would like, is more than Spencer would have expected or asked for after only a day of spending any real time together. To think, too, that it hasn't been long at all since Joel had found him on the shore is a bizarre thing because already, it seems that Joel knows him so well.

He'd known to bring Spencer here, after all, to a place so full of life in a way that's different from the bustle of the rest of the marketplace. There's something more calming about this corner, with so much vibrancy around them but a distinct lack of shouting from every merchant desperate to sell their wares, and it reminds Spencer of a place down below that he's often gone to be alone. There, he'd find himself surrounded with all manner of creatures and plants, some of which are the most beautiful and rare he's ever had the chance to see in shocks of violet and blue and green; it had almost felt like his own little sea garden, similar to the one he'd spotted Joel's brother in outside the palace when he'd looked out the window of his room in the morning.

While the solitude and silence had been enjoyable, Spencer can see now how much better it is to share such beauty with someone else. It isn't just that he's with a companion, of course, it's that he's with Joel, who appears to be as enamored by what's around them as Spencer is and that makes all the difference. He wants to share everything with Joel, he thinks, every single moment of new discovery and understanding because when they're alone together, Spencer can let himself forget who Joel is. He can let himself forget that he's fallen in love with a prince.

It's been just a short time but already, Spencer has noticed a shift in the way Joel behaves when they're away from the palace, from watchful eyes of guards and workers; it's like the prince is able to shed some of the tension in his shoulders, leave behind at least some of the weight he carries with him, and Spencer doesn't want to presume that he has anything to do with lightening that load but in truth, he truly hopes that is the case.

The task he's taken on was never meant to be simple, Ersa had made certain of that, but as the hours of the day progress, Spencer thinks he can find more and more hope. The way Joel smiles at him, a smile that doesn't overwhelm his expression but is faint, almost dreamlike, as if Spencer might just hold the key to what makes him happy, is what gives him the drive to move forward. His heart knows what it wants, it had since that first moment on the beach, and Spencer has never been the type to make such rash decisions as the one he'd made with Ersa before. He wouldn't have done this if he hadn't thought he could succeed, if he hadn't thought that the man on the beach could one day be more than just that, than just a distant memory of a moment long past.

He'd take Joel's hand right now if he could, if he didn't have a cane in one and the flowers in the other, but he smiles softly instead before gesturing for Joel to fall back into stride with him as they continue their way back to the center of the marketplace; and if he walks a little to closely to the prince, letting their shoulders brush every so often as they move along, he hopes that Joel won't mind.

[just_another]

Joel knows he's had a good life and he's been happy for most of it. The broken engagement with Amy, though it's been nearly ten years ago now, had been a rough point in his life, but with the help of his parents and his brother, he had gotten through that. Now that he's here, now that he's met Spencer, he's so grateful to Amy for ending what they had, because if he was married to her now, if they were living together in the palace, if they already had children, which of course would have been expected of them, this would have been the most heartbreaking experience of his life. Because he knows whatever it was he felt for Amy pales in comparison to this. He had loved her, probably would love her still had they stayed together, and it's nothing like what he feels for Spencer. He would have never been able to deny it and the thought that he might still have to, that he's still expected to take a bride, it weighs on him.

And so he's ignoring it. Perhaps not the healthiest or most adult manner in which to deal with the problem at hand, but in this moment he doesn't care. It's quiet as they stroll back through the marketplace, Spencer's shoulder bumping against his now and then, and although some merchants still call for them, most leave them alone, have seen them come through once already and decide to save their sales pitch for someone who might yet spend coin on what they're offering. He turns them in the direction of the butcher, guiding Spencer with a gentle nudge of his shoulder, then nods his chin toward the only enclosed store in the market.

"I have to pick up a roast for dinner tomorrow. I'll only be a moment," he says and before he realizes what he's doing, he's leaned in and brushed a kiss over Spencer's cheek. His lips feel dry and warm and under them Spencer's skin is the most perfect thing he's ever felt. It's just a moment, barely a gesture at all, something easily passed off as affection between friends, but Joel is still certain he'll remember every last detail for the rest of his life. The warmth of Spencer's skin under his mouth, the way it feels when his lips brush against the edge of his cheek, the way he smells in the marketplace, overwhelming even the scent of the flowers wafting up between them, and Joel doesn't know how to name it, but he knows it's undeniably Spencer. And he knows he's never wanted anyone this badly in his entire life.

It's just a kiss on the cheek, but Joel's face flushes deeply and his heart begins to hammer behind his breastbone. When he pulls back, he can't quite meet Spencer's gaze, but he manages a little smile, nervous and confused, then steps into the cool interior of the butcher and tries to look at calm as he possibly can when he feels anything but. His mouth is dry and he feels like he needs at least a pitcher of water. He's trembling a little, terrified and conflicted, but he feels brave, too. His chest has loosened like it often does after he's exerted himself in the water, his breathing is free and clear, and he feels like he's done something good. Something worthwhile.

Whatever else happens, he can look on this day, at the very least, without regret.

It takes several minutes for the butcher to wrap his mother's selection and by the time he's ready to step back out and rejoin Spencer, he's nervous all over again. He just kissed him. He's kissed his parents and brother in the same way, but he knows his intention was not the same and he wonders if Spencer knows it, too.

[doublethepain]

fjkfds;a

The kiss leaves him breathless, never mind that it's only to the cheek, and his skin feels like it's burning where Joel's lips had grazed. Whether it means something, whether the gesture had been anything more than friendly, Spencer can't be sure, but he'd like to hope. The way the prince hadn't quite been able to meet his eyes before he'd disappeared into the butcher--which Spencer is grateful for because Joel would have seen nothing but a dazed expression that hasn't yet gone away--is perhaps an indication of something more, but Spencer doesn't dare presume.

There's a connection between them, of that he can be absolutely sure, there's no denying how easily they smile around each other or understand each other in spite of their block in communication; but that alone isn't enough to keep Spencer here. It isn't enough to return his voice to him, to prolong his chance at a happy life with this man he's fallen harder for than he ever could have expected. It's strange to be so certain that what he feels for Joel is love when it isn't something he's ever experienced before. There's nothing to compare this to but then again, Joel is incomparable to anyone.

By the time Joel does return with what he's brought from the butcher, Spencer hasn't the faintest idea how much time has passed. He's wandered over to a nearby bench, feeling a bit out of breath as if the kiss had gone past his cheek and to his lips, where Spencer so desperately wants it to be. It won't be anytime soon in the next two weeks that he forgets about this, he thinks, and a small part of him wants to pull the prince toward him right this second and forget about the rest of the world just to feel the gentle press of those lips again; but aside from the fluttering of his heart in his chest is the confusion that threatens to overwhelm him, to the point that he very nearly wishes he could disappear to that quiet spot in the ocean that he'd called his own.

He doesn't need to think about whether or not he's in love with Joel, he is, pure and simple. The feeling is real, raw, it has consumed him from the moment he'd pulled Joel from the angry waves to the warmth of the sand; but to what extent has it affected Joel? That's the true question, after all, it's nothing to do with what Spencer feels because that part is already set in stone. In the span of a day, he has already decided he's willing to do whatever it takes to be with this man, has already given up his fins and his family and his home and his voice just to be here right now, but Joel knows none of that. Spencer has no way of telling him that, of expressing the extent to what he feels, and though there have been hints that the prince might just feel the same way, which is somehow worse than not knowing for sure whether the love is returned or not.

It wouldn't be fair, of course, to demand an answer right away. Spencer feels as if he's known Joel for so much longer than the mere hours that have passed between them, but he also realizes it doesn't work that way everyone. It's never worked that way for him before, after all, so to expect it of Joel... But never mind that for now, it's still early, still new, and he knows he has to worry about the time but at the moment, he's more content to let things progress as naturally as possible because each discovery and experience that has happened has made Spencer happier than he would have thought.

Looking up at the prince, Spencer craves a second kiss, even if just to the cheek again. A second and a third, a fourth and an endless number that simply won't stop because their love is stronger than any duty or obligation that might fall upon either of them. Rather than lose himself to the fantasy, though, he pushes himself back to his feet with a smile before an idea strikes him, one that isn't as innocent as his expression might imply, and he leans forward to press a kiss of his own to Joel's cheek, a welcome back of sorts, even if that isn't his true intent. There's nowhere for them to run, nowhere to hide, and Spencer finds that he doesn't quite mind that before he ducks his head to keep his widening grin out of the prince's sight and takes the first step away.

[just_another]

He's right to be nervous, he realizes, when Spencer rises from the bench and then kisses his cheek, and for a split second Joel honestly feels like he might just cry out of nerves and relief and something else he can't really explain. Everything he feels is caught up high in his chest, blocking his throat and he swallows twice, trying to figure out a way to get words around what suddenly feels like a very large stone sitting right on his vocal cords. When he inhales, it feels more like he's wheezing than anything and he tries to say something, but all he manages is a shaky sort of grin, one he can't quite contain or control. His skin feels like it's warm where Spencer has kissed him and without thinking, he lifts his free hand, touching the place on his cheek where Spencer's lips had been just a moment before. He almost expect his skin to be hot, for there to be something tangible left behind, but it feels the same as it always has, even though it can't possibly be. In just a moment, in a split second, Spencer has changed him and it seems absurd that he still looks and feels the same outside when everything inside is entirely different than it used to be.

There's still a part of him that wants to be negative, a dark little place in the back of his mind that's trying to convince him it all means nothing. That Spencer merely thinks this is a custom he hadn't known before and he's simply trying to follow Joel's lead. That it's meant only in friendship. That whatever feelings Joel is having can't possibly be returned because the idea that someone so perfect might actually want him is laughable. That dark little place is usually much louder, it's the thing that sends Joel into periods of near silence, days when he rarely leaves the library and instead disappears into books and stories, places where he can get lost without having to think of his own life, and he can feel that urge threatening to rise. But it isn't as loud or powerful as it usually is and he has to wonder if that's because he doesn't entirely believe what it's telling him or if it's because it's worth the risk. Maybe the dark part of him is right, maybe there's absolutely no hope here and he's only building himself up to be horribly disappointed, but if that's the case, at least he'll know. The thought of never being certain is worse somehow. The thought of waking up one day ten years from now, turning over in his bed and catching sight of something that reminds him of Spencer only to remember that he never took the risk... that's a truly awful thought.

And maybe he will have to risk everything. Maybe his parents will be angry with him, maybe Spencer will turn his back on him, maybe even his brother will ask him what he was thinking, but he has to do it. Not yet. He knows he needs to speak with his parents first about their plans, it's the right thing to do, and Joel needs to do right by them. Given all they've done for him, the risks they took when deciding to adopt him officially, he owes them that respect at the very least, and so he decides then that he'll speak with Caden to get his opinion and then speak with his parents and tell them what he feels.

Then, if he can stand the wait, he'll take Spencer's hand at the ball and pull him close. Really kiss him for the first time in front of everyone. Make his feeling truly known.

It's a silly, romantic notion, and Joel knows he has a tendency to live inside stories, but it seems right, too. There's so much of this world that Spencer seems to be seeing for the first time and when it comes to this, to romance and relationships, Joel doesn't know how much he's had himself. If for some reason there's been no one else, if he's never had an experience like this, Joel wants to do everything he can to give Spencer something good, something to remember for years, something he can look back on and smile and even if he can never tell the story himself, Joel will do it for him, letting Spencer's smiles and nods fill in the blanks.

It's with a sheepish smile that he realizes he's been quiet for quite some time and he shifts the roast under his arm so that he can touch his fingers to Spencer's elbow. "We should get back," he says, but he's been smiling this whole time and he doesn't think there's much that can be done to wipe it from his face. Spencer has to know he's the cause of such an expression, that he's the reason Joel looks both so flustered and so intensely pleased, but he finds he doesn't mind even a little. In fact, h hopes Spencer knows he's the reason. Maybe if he already knows, the rest of this will be so much simpler. Maybe there doesn't need to be any wondering or hoping, maybe they can just find their way with minimal stumbling and meet each other in the middle.

The carriage is close and Joel leads Spencer toward it, realizing they still have the rest of the trip back to the palace, sitting side by side under the canopy of the carriage. There isn't much space in the back, not with the flower and the roast and Spencer's cane and so when Joel sits down beside him and finds the length of his thigh pressed against Spencer's, there's really nowhere for him to go. Not that he wants to go anywhere at all.

[doublethepain]

So much between them has already been communicated with so few words that in some of the rarer moments, Spencer forgets that he'd given up his voice rather than simply lost it due to Joel just looking at him. The smile he's seen gracing the prince's handsome face is such a vast difference from the initial distress that had been there yesterday, when Spencer had managed to pull him to shore. He'd reveled in the feel of the sand between his fingers then, always has found the feel of the grains to be comforting somehow, and he thinks it's because a great deal of beauty can come of something so small. When combined, the grains of sand come together to form such an incredible sight, an expansive shoreline that stretches farther than Spencer's eyes can see, and perhaps it's a bit silly to make a comparison to that but in a way, he feels like that's what is happening here.

Spencer feels better when he's with Joel. He's never been particularly prone to excessive amounts of chatter, but he also isn't painfully shy; he's not extremely proud or particularly rebellious--most of the time--and his father has often told him what a relief it is that Spencer doesn't make a habit of baiting sailors like some of the other younger merfolk have been known to do. With Joel, it isn't baiting; if anything, Joel is the one who'd captured him, who'd stolen his heart with just the curve of his lips and the blink of those gorgeous eyes, and Spencer can't help but lose himself in examining Joel's face yet again. He hopes it doesn't cause any discomfort, the way he's caught himself staring sometimes, but all he can think when his eyes trail over the strong line of Joel's jaw or the slope of his nose or the length of his neck is that he desperately wants to be kissing every last bit of the prince and in a much less virtuous way than he had Joel's cheek.

Thoughts like this haven't burdened him for most of his life, if he's honest. He hasn't felt the kind of heat that Joel stirs within him for any mermaid or merman before, which only leads Spencer to believe even more that nothing about their meeting and reunion has been a coincidence. He couldn't have predicted that the storm would have led him to Joel, to that brief time they'd spent together on the beach, to April, to Ersa, to the legs he stands on now, and to a life of truly understanding what it means to love someone so much that it makes his chest ache. Every second that he's not touching Joel is a maddening one, it's why he keeps trying to find new and different ways to keep their physical contact in touch because what he wants so badly is to be able to thread their fingers together like they had that first time.

That alone, the touch of their thighs in the carriage, makes the ride back to the palace both much easier and much, much more difficult. As much as he'd prefer never to break contact, it only makes it that much harder when they have to, when the carriage stops and both of them, after a beat too long of a pause, climb out so that they can present what they'd gathered from the marketplace to the kitchen and the queen.

The prospect of being in the presence of Joel's mother again is somehow much more daunting than anything else, he'll admit as much because he has no idea how either the king or queen would respond to the notion that their son has an admirer who is not only a man but comes from the sea. They don't have to know that second part, of course, not even things go the way Spencer hopes; but even so, Spencer doesn't know what they might say about their prince giving his heart away to a man who can't explain himself.

In all fairness, his lack of voice hasn't seem to be too much of a problem for anyone in the palace, something for which Spencer is immensely grateful because he knows how it must have looked to the rest of the royal family for Joel to bring back a man wrapped only in sails and looking rather worse for the wear. His hair had been a tangled mess from the salt water, and he's sure he hadn't exactly looked like someone who could be capable of rescuing Joel from any sort of shipwreck, but he'd been taken care of all the same. He knows a large part of that is due to Joel and his command that Spencer's every whim be catered to, though Spencer has tried to take advantage of when he isn't used to much. Accepting more than what he's been given so far only feels wrong, as if it might be a sign of what he's truly here for, as if it would convince anyone that this is a love of convenience rather than one so full of pure honesty.

What he feels for Joel is inexplicable, there's no sense in trying to figure it out, but Spencer sort of likes that he can't even begin to explain it to anyone who might ask. Nobody would understand, not a single person, because what Spencer feels is strictly for Joel. The relationship they've been building is strictly for them, and there is no describing how remarkable it is to know that he is--or at least, he hopes he is--a part of something nobody else will ever be.

[just_another]

His mother is a force of nature. Joel has known this for a very long time and as soon as he realized the description could be applied to people as well as the storms that swept in across the ocean, he knew nothing else would ever fit her quite so well. She's a whirlwind of energy, capable of great emotion, no matter the topic, enthusiastic in a way few other people seem capable of and in possession of seemingly boundless sources of energy. Joel can't remember having ever seen her sick or a day when she wasn't up and actively involved with something around the palace. If she isn't at home, she's often working in the community, offering services a queen likely shouldn't be offering, but it seems as though people have long since grown used to the way in which she defies any and all rules one would expect a queen to follow. It gives Joel hope, a faint little flutter of it in his chest, because his father has a tendency to fall behind his mother's opinion and his mother has never worried too extensively about the rules.

Still, they return to the palace, Joel's hand on Spencer's elbow so he can help him inside, and the wares from the market are brought in. Spencer still has his bouquet in his hand, a vibrant burst of colour and as they walk inside, they're greeted by the sound of the queen's voice bouncing off walls, her laughter filling the halls as she guides the help here and there. There's no escaping her, though he doesn't try very hard, and the second she spots the two of them, she's rushing toward them, her hands extended to greet them. Joel catches her fingers and presses a kiss to her knuckles before letting her go again and she's already talking about what they're going to be doing for dinner tonight, what the plan is for tomorrow, how the apples he picked up look wonderful, the roast looks even better, have they had lunch yet, are either of them hungry, and Joel finds himself laughing and rolling his eyes fondly.

"Do you think we might have ten seconds to walk inside being we're expected to answer all these questions?" he asks and he doesn't want to, but he lets go of Spencer's elbow long enough to take off the cloak he'd been wearing. He does his best not to go to the market dressed like one might expect a prince to dress and his clothes are simple, neutral colours. Nothing over the top, nothing like he'll be expected to wear the night of his birthday and to the ball.

"No," his mother answers blithely, flapping a hand at the two of them. She hasn't missed the way Joel's hand returns to Spencer's elbow, nor how close they stand to one another, and he can see the way her gaze drifts down, the way the corner of her mouth quivers. Whether it's in disapproval or pleasure, Joel can't quite tell. She may be a flurry of movement and emotion, but he's never quite been able to read his mother when she puts her mind to keeping something from him. They're similar in that regard, though he knows he can't possibly take after her in too many ways, not when he isn't really hers. Still, he's learned this from her, how to carefully guard certain secrets, certain feelings, even if he's failing miserably when it comes to Spencer.

"Spencer, the flowers are beautiful. Did someone in the market put that together for you or did you arrange it yourself?" she asks, turning her attention from her son to the man he's been unable to leave for longer than a few minutes. "You should get them into some water before they wilt, though, it would be a shame for such a lovely bouquet to go to waste."

And then she's ushering them both toward the kitchen, sidestepping one of the cooks to take a large ceramic vase from one of the cupboards. For all that she's a queen, Joel does appreciate that his mother has never demanded things be done for her when she's perfectly capable of doing them herself. She fills the vase with water, then returns to them with it and nods for them to follow her. "We should put them out in the front hall where they can be seen."

[doublethepain]

What little Spencer remembers of his own mother is reflected a great deal in what he sees in Joel's and while that makes his heart aches just a little, it also fills him with a warmth he hasn't known since he'd been a child. His father would quite like the queen, Spencer decides, if he would only cease his blind hatred for the human world for just a moment. The disappointment that would come crashing down on him if he were to return after failing his task here is not something Spencer is looking forward to, if ever that failure should come to pass, but if he could just get his father to listen, to see how truly beautiful this world can be beyond the same kinds of lies and deceit that can be found under the waves, things would be so much different.

He would have his mother's approval of what he's doing, if not the way he'd gone about it. Spencer had been very young when she'd died, but he remembers an unmatched vibrancy and a beautiful, melodic voice that could soothe nearly any of the merfolk, most of all his father. The memories he holds of her have often made him wonder of the years just how she and his father had ended up together, and it's not that his father is humorless or in any way unyielding; he's simply a much more cautious sort of merman, one who appreciates rules and boundaries and keeping to those, while Spencer had fallen somewhere in the middle of his parents' tendencies toward living his life. He doesn't necessarily crave being human, after all, it's Joel he wants to be with and if that means staying here for the rest of his life, if that means having to live with the pain in his legs for all of eternity, he'll do it. He'll give his old life up completely to be with this man and perhaps that is an insult to his father, but Spencer is certain his mother would understand.

She'd loved love, she'd been so open and kind and caring, and she'd been well-liked among the merfolk. After her death, Spencer had noticed a distinct change in the number of visitors they would receive at home, and he'd wondered if that was temporary for his father's sake but no, it had remained that way well into Spencer's adulthood. By no means is he excessively social, not at all; he has a few select friends at home that he enjoys spending time with but when it comes to going somewhere that many merfolk have gathered, it starts to become something of a burden. Joel is like that, too, he thinks, more comfortable in their time alone together than he is in the presence of many others; but Spencer would much rather get the chance to have Joel to himself than to lose him to someone else.

It comes as no surprise then that he would desire the approval of the queen, not only because she is half the ruling party of this kingdom but because her love for her sons is so visibly evident in everything she does for them. She's a good woman, a genuine one, and Spencer can see where Joel gets the same traits. The princes hadn't been raised by nannies or maids, they'd been raised by their parents, who hadn't used their roles as excuses for not being involved in their children's lives. That she's willing to stand here and ask him questions about the bouquet he'd brought as if she has a true and vested interest--which she very well maybe, Spencer thinks, the flowers are awfully nice--makes him feel more welcome than ever, and he flushes happily as he nods eagerly at the suggestion that he'd put the arrangement together himself.

He's no less eager after she's found a vase, and he ignores the pain in his legs to follow her as he looks over his shoulder to make sure that Joel isn't far behind. It's an honor to him that she should deem his bouquet worthy enough to be seen by so many people, and he knows she might just be doing it to be kind but that doesn't matter because she's the queen, she's under no obligation to be this accommodating to a man she'd only met less than a day ago, but it delights Spencer to no end and so, he quickens his pace to catch up with the queen, bouquet tucked neatly in his arms.

With another glance over his shoulder to smile at the prince, Spencer practically runs, skips-- right into the doorframe to the front hall.

The sharp burst of pain at the back of his head is unexpected, and he frowns as he lifts his free hand to inspect the area but before his fingers can brush against the blood he can already feel dripping through his hair, he falls to the ground in a heap and everything goes black.

[just_another]

"Spencer!" Joel cries before he even realizes he's done it. The flowers go everywhere, scattered on top of him, and Joel doesn't even realize one of the maids is there collecting them as he drops to his knees in the hall and reaches for Spencer. He had looked so happy, so pleased with himself, and Joel had felt such love for his mother in that moment, too, for trying so hard to include Spencer and make him feel welcome, but now it's all gone in a rush of panic because Spencer is crumpled in a heap on the floor and there's blood on his head and Joel doesn't remember the last time he's felt a fear so intense as this. Not even when he had been in danger of drowning had he been this scared and he knows it's fine, that Spencer has merely bumped his head and will likely be awake in just a few moments, but there's a kind of terror pounding at his temples and in his chest regardless. This man has saved his life and awakened something inside him, all within a day, and Joel wants nothing more than to protect him and keep him safe. He wants Spencer to know that he's never in any danger.

And yet now he's here, lying on the floor in the hall.

"Joel, is he alright?" his mother asks. She's set the vase aside and the maid who had collected the flowers from off of Spencer is putting them in the water. It seems like such a silly thing to be concerned with at the moment, but Joel finds he's grateful for it all the same. He doesn't want Spencer to wake up and wonder why his flowers have all wilted and as they are now, beautifully arranged in the vase his mother had prepared, they look as stunning as they had in Spencer's arms. They're still here, an indication of what he brings to this house, and when Spencer opens his eyes, that's what Joel wants him to see. He can't explain why it matters to him so much, only that it does. Only that he can never let Spencer feel anything but wanted and maybe it's that he remembers how heartbroken Caden had been when April walked away from this life, maybe it's that he's always wondered if she had felt out of place and unwanted, but whatever it is, he isn't letting the same thing happen to Spencer.

"He'll be fine," he says, his voice strained. Of course he'll be fine, it's just a bump to the head, but Joel is still careful as he lifts Spencer's upper body gently from the ground and cradles him so he's not resting against the cool wood floor. Another maid appears at his side with a damp cloth and Joel takes it with a grateful, distracted smile, and gently begins to wipe some of the blood from Spencer's skin. He's not quite sure where Spencer hit his head and he hates the sight of the blood, but he can't stop looking at him, not when he's in need. Not ever, really, something he really should come to accept, but especially not right now. Spencer needs him and Joel is going to be right here when he wakes up.

"Here," one of the maids says. She takes the cloth from Joel's hands, then offers him a vial of something foul smelling and Joel glances down to see he's holding smelling salts. He's always hated them, hated the chemical smell of the ammonia, but he knows they work and so he smiles faintly at the maid and then holds the small vial near to Spencer's face. He waves it back and forth slowly, carefully, then hands it back to the maid when it seems to have worked, when Spencer begins to stir.

"Careful," Joel says softly, pressing his knuckles against Spencer's cheek gently. "It's alright. Come back to me."

He doesn't realize what he's saying, that he's speaking at all. He doesn't notice the looks the maids exchange, the small smile on the face of the one who's still arranging the flowers, more as a means to stay and see what happens than anything else. He doesn't notice the way his mother fondly rolls her eyes and then heaves a sigh before she shoos two of the maids away who simply seem to be there to look. The only thing he's aware of is the way Spencer's eyelids flutter, the weight of his head and shoulders against Joel's thighs and the warmth of his skin against the back of his fingers.

[doublethepain]

Come back to me.

The voice is soft, soothing, almost melodic in the way it lures Spencer back from the darkness that had met him so suddenly. The gentle cadence of the words makes him feel for just a moment like he's back in the water, lying on his back and letting the waves drift him to wherever the ocean sees fit. That's not something he'd done often, when he'd gone to the surface, he'd done so with every intention of finding out more about the way the human world works or poking around the parts of the shoreline he could reach without being seen for bits and pieces he could more closely examine at home.

Quickly enough, though, the reassuring voice is tainted by the smell of something awful and even before he opens his eyes, Spencer can feel his nose wrinkling at the offending odor as he shifts his head to move as far away from it as he can. He's being held still, he quickly realizes, by strong arms that are keeping him from sitting up like he wants to, which turns out to be quite a good thing because the more aware he becomes of being awake again, the more his head begins to ache as what must have happened catches up with him.

His eyes flutter open to find exactly what he'd expected, Joel's face hovering worriedly above him, and Spencer's cheeks immediately flush red with humiliation at having caused such a commotion. He blinks away the grogginess of having been unconscious and slowly turns his head to squint at what else is around him, vision still adjusting as his gaze settles on his flowers in the vase and the queen waving a hand at two maids who are rushing out of the hall. He'd hit his head, that much he's gathered, and he remembers turning to look at Joel but can't quite put together the rest--though that very well may be because there's nothing else to remember at all. Regardless of what had happened, though, he mostly just wants to be able to get back up and assure Joel that everything is fine, that there's nothing to worry about except for maybe the blood that's dripping down his neck and even then, he's willing to ignore it if it means the prince won't spend another moment with those worried lines creasing his forehead.

Spencer wants to reach a hand out to smooth those lines away, to cup Joel's cheek and press a kiss to his temple like he had yesterday, never mind the fact that their positions have essentially been reversed. Maybe it wouldn't be such a bad thing to do just that, to abandon all pretenses entirely and tug at Joel's shirt so their lips can meet instead, and Spencer suspects he looks rather wide-eyed and dazed as he looks back up to meet Joel's gaze but really, he doesn't think he can be blamed for his thoughts or the silly, lovestruck expression on his face. He's hit his head, after all, and he isn't thinking straight; except at the same time, these are the very same thoughts he has even when he's standing on his own two feet.

Come back to me, Joel had said, and Spencer had obliged. He will always come back, even if at the end of all this, Spencer has lost his legs to get back his tail, he'll come back. Ersa had told him he'd have one chance to do this, just one chance, and Spencer will make peace with never being able to walk on land again if it means he'll still get to at least see Joel from afar. Nothing could keep him from this man, he already feels that deep within his bones, and he leans further against the warmth of Joel's chest as he fights to keep his eyes from shutting again. It's a struggle, but he rests his hands on Joel's forearm as he squirms to sit up a bit straighter so as not to put all his weight on the prince.

The queen seems to be saying something and when Spencer returns his attention to her, he frowns at just how dizzy the simple act of shifting his gaze makes him. He can't even quite make out what she's saying, it's as if she's speaking from a much greater distance than she is, and he tightens his grip on Joel's arm as a flash of fear courses through him. There's nothing to worry about, he tells himself, it's just a minor wound to the head; but even so, he wants nothing more than to be shown back to his room so that he can rest comfortably in bed--preferably with Joel holding him just like this.

[just_another]

"Oh, you poor dear. Joel, you should get him upstairs," his mother is saying and for a second Joel can't quite make sense of what she's telling him because he's so focused on Spencer, on making sure he's okay. He's clearly in a fair bit of pain and there's still blood on his head, on his neck, the sight of which turns Joel's stomach. It isn't that he's squeamish, he's seen injuries far worse than this, but he's never seen Spencer injured and the very thought that he might be in greater pain than he can let on without a voice makes Joel worry in a way he's never quite experienced before. Spencer is trying to sit up, but Joel keeps a hold on him, letting him rest exactly where he is because he doesn't want him to get too soon and end up right back down on the floor as a result of not being prepared. He wants to lean down and press a kiss to Spencer's furrowed brow. He wants to smooth back his hair and wipe away the blood and take him in his arms, but there's something of an audience here, his mother and several maids, all of them scurrying about and trying to find ways in which they can help. The only thing Joel wants is for them to leave them alone so that he might be able to tend to Spencer in private, but the only way to do that is to get him up to his room.

"Can you bring some rags and a bowl of cool water up to Spencer's room?" he asks one of the maids and she nods before she goes off toward the kitchen. This way everything will be prepared by the time he gets Spencer up to his room and no one else will have to interrupt them, which Joel thinks will be better for everyone involved. He isn't quite sure if putting Spencer straight to bed is a good idea, not after he's suffered a blow to the head, but if necessary, Joel will happily keep him company for as long as he needs. He'll stay with him in his room, do everything necessary to keep him awake, tell him stories, read to him out of books, simply just be there with him if nothing else. And once the blood has been cleaned away and the wound has stopped bleeding, he'll let Spencer lie down and he'll cover him and close the heavy curtains to block out the light that may make him dizzy in such a state. He'll take care of him. He'll do everything he can to take care of him, today and every other day that's to come.

"Do you think you can get up?" he asks, holding Spencer's arms gently in his hands. "I'll help you, but we really should get you upstairs to your room. You need to relax, at least for a little while." And while Joel knows it's quite a minor injury, that besides a headache that may linger for a little while, Spencer will be up and around in no time, he still worries. What he feels his this man is indescribable. It's something he doesn't know what to do with, something he's never felt before, and with it comes a whole new set of worries he's never had in his entire life. Vaguely, he remembers feeling something similar for Amy when she'd taken a fall off a horse and he had thought for a moment or two that she had broken a bone. It had only been a bad sprain and he remembers the relief that had flooded him at the knowledge that she would heal in time and would continue to ride and walk without a limp. It's like that, he realizes, but stronger. The worry seems to claw at the back of his throat, work its way into his chest and settle there like a heavy stone that won't be moved no matter what sort of rational and logical thought Joel tries to persuade it with.

The only thing that will help it is knowing that Spencer will be alright and for that Joel has to get him moving. He has to see to him, tend to whatever he needs and spend some time with him before he'll be convinced that there's nothing to worry about. And so he moves gently, still holding onto Spencer, taking care to let him get his legs under him before he tries to help him stand. "Careful," he breathes, his voice low. "You hit your head quite hard. Don't move too quickly and lean on me just in case you get dizzy."

They have two flights of stairs to go up before they'll be able to get Spencer into his room and Joel plans on sticking by him every step of the way. There's absolutely no way he'll risk letting Spencer take those stairs alone, not when it's likely that he's still dizzy. A tumble down a flight of stairs would be significantly worse than a knock against the doorframe and Joel simply isn't going to let anything else happen to Spencer. Not if he has any say in it, which, at the moment at least, he very much does. There is nothing else expected of him for the rest of the day and he had planned on spending it with Spencer anyway, so now he can simply spend it tending to him.

"Let one of the maids know if you need anything else," his mother says, pressing a hand to Joel's arm before she returns to her business and he nods as he turns them in the direction of the stairs.

[doublethepain]

All the fuss is more embarrassing than the fact that he'd hit his head at all, and Spencer keeps his head ducked to avoid the worried looks that are turned on him for fear that he may just burst into tears of sheer frustration. The day had been going so well aside from the minor verbal altercation Joel had shared with Shea, and Spencer had been so dizzy with pleasure from the kisses to the cheeks he and the prince had exchanged that he'd been quite prepared to spend the rest of the evening deliriously happy and very much unfocused on matters of anything of less importance.

He's dizzy now for other reasons, his head swimming with pain that he can at least take comfort in knowing will eventually go away. It isn't as if he's never hit his head before, he remembers being younger and getting into a playful fight with a friend after lessons, only to be thrown a little too roughly so that he'd fallen against a rock on the ocean floor. His father had been furious, mostly out of fear, and he'd apologized to Spencer's poor, terrified friend for screaming at him for his lack of caution the next day but even so, the merman had kept his distance from Spencer for a time after that.

This incident had been nobody's fault but his own, a mere consequence of an overeager reaction to being able to please the queen--more specifically, to please and hopefully gain more approval of the mother of the man he loves--and the color in his cheeks spreads to his neck as he looks sheepishly up at Joel with their first steps toward the stairs. It's daunting to think they have to travel so far when there's the ache in his legs combined with the tenderness to the back of his head. Putting each foot forward makes him wish he could have just stayed on the ground, safeguarded by Joel's arms around him, but of course, that wouldn't have been an option. Joel is right to get him to his room, though Spencer suspects he won't be getting any long-lasting period of sleep anytime soon, if what he remembers of his father insisting on waking him every couple hours the last time he'd suffered a head injury is anything like how he'll be treated now.

Still, he is much keener on Joel taking the responsibility of overseeing his care than any of the maids being burdened with the task, even if he does feel guilty that it has to be done at all. He's sure the prince has many other things he could be doing, should be doing, and he's as good as ruined the evening with this but if he's honest, he can spare little more concern for that at the moment. His concentration is centered on getting up the stairs, and it's terribly slow-going but soon enough, they've reached the top of the second flight and managed to make it to Spencer's room. His bed looks so inviting and perhaps under different circumstances, having that same thought with Joel right beside him would mean something else but as it is, all Spencer wants to do is curl up under the covers and will the throbbing in the back of his head to go away.

It's with a silent but heavy sigh that he lets Joel seat him on the edge of the bed and it hurts to narrow his eyes but he does it anyway because he catches sight of a hint of red on his freshly laundered white shirt that had been set out for him this morning. The guilt that had subsided just briefly returns in full force, and he raises his hands to scrub lightly at his face before letting them drop back down to rest on his thighs, hiding the misery evident in his expression from the prince by keeping his gaze strictly focused on the rug below his feet.

[just_another]

After he's seated Spencer at the edge of the bed, he moves toward the large windows and pulls one layer of curtains over them. They're not so heavy that they block the light out entirely and Joel still has more than enough to see by, but it dims the light a little, making it a little less bright in the room and hopefully a little easier on Spencer's eyes and on his head. On the small table by the bed is the bowl of water and the rags he'd asked for and Joel crosses to them, knowing he could ask the nurse or the medic to take care of this for him, but finding himself unable. It isn't that he doesn't trust them or that he thinks himself more capable, but that he can't bear the thought of leaving Spencer right now. Not after he had seemed so happy and now looks so miserable, which is the furthest thing from what Joel wants. A head wound is no laughing matter, of course but he doesn't want Spencer to feel embarrassed or that he has anything to be ashamed of. It was an accident and Joel himself has done far worse simply by being himself, but he suspects whether he wants it or not, Spencer does feel embarrassed and that causes a twinge in Joel's chest, something he doesn't know how to classify.

"Let me see," he says after he's wet one of the cloths and wrung out the excess water. He goes to the bed, putting one knee up on the mattress beside Spencer so that he might get close enough and he touches Spencer's head gently, urging him to tilt it so that Joel can begin to wipe blood off his skin and out of his hair. He's as light handed as he can be, taking care not to touch the wound directly once he's found it and instead concentrating on removing as much of the blood as he possibly can. It seems to have mostly stopped bleeding on its own, for which he's grateful. It means he won't have to call the medic up here regardless, he won't need to be stitched back together to stop the bleeding and, if they're lucky and Joel is careful not to start the bleeding going again, they may not even need to bandage him.

"When I was fourteen and first leaning to ride a horse properly, I got so excited that I thought riding a broom around the house would be good practice," he says and he isn't sure when he decided to tell this story, but now that he's speaking it seems best to just keep going. He rinses the cloth in the bowl of water, then squeezes out more of the water and returns to Spencer's head, cleaning his hair, cleaning his skin, soothing over the wound as best he can so that he won't cause any further pain. "My mother told me to stop about a dozen times, but I wouldn't listen to her and I rode the broom straight up the stairs. Right to the landing just outside your room, actually. Then I turned, caught my feet on a rug and smashed my head on the bannister before falling nearly all the way back down."

He tilts his head slightly, lifting his hand to push back some of his hair so Spencer can see the scar that cuts through his eyebrow. "I was lucky that was the worst of it. I could have broken my neck falling down the stairs like I did and by the way my mother was screaming you would have thought that I had, but it was just the blood that upset her. She said she saw it and it felt like her heart stopped. At the time I thought she was being ridiculous. It was barely a cut at all, barely any blood." He wipes the last of the blood away from Spencer's neck, then places the cloth back in the small bowl beside the bed and looks at Spencer for a long moment. "I think I now have a much better idea what she was feeling."

It's then he catches sight of the blood on the shirt and his hands go to the first button at Spencer's collar without thinking. "We should get you out of this and into something clean to wear," he says before he realizes he's offering to undress the other man, that he already has his hands on the buttons, that he's gently urging Spencer to stand so that it might be easier and there's a part of himself screaming to stop. That this is nonsense, it's dangerous, he's being absolutely ridiculous. And yet the part of him that's louder still is the part that wants nothing more than to just take care of Spencer.

[doublethepain]

He feels a little guilty for barely focusing on the story Joel is telling him, though Spencer understands the general point of it and smiles tiredly when he hears the prince's laugh; but the sound of Joel's voice is what keeps him feeling grounded and each time it stops, Spencer feels like he's been carried away by waves again, his body swaying just slightly back and forth as if he might fall over at any second. He'd like to think he can control himself better than that, if only because he'd be humiliated all over again to fall a second time, but the longer they're in this room, the more Spencer is willing to let Joel simply take over everything. He'll do anything Joel asks of him, but he's so exhausted, significantly more than he would have been even after walking around the market on his sore legs all day.

What he wants more than anything is to be allowed to sleep, to drift off and let his dreams ease the pain in his head better than any sort of potion could, but he knows the risks in that. He's heard about it before, merfolk and humans alike who have been swept away by waves too difficult to navigate and don't wake from a blow to the head that would most certainly be far more damaging than Spencer's own but nevertheless, he hates to see Joel looking so worried on his account. If he'd only been more aware, more cautious, this wouldn't have happened; but that isn't how he's been feeling since he'd gotten his legs. He doesn't want to be cautious, in fact, he wants to throw all caution to the wind so that he and Joel can be together the way Spencer so badly wants them to be without consequence or gossip or anything of the sort. He wants all sorts of things for them, happiness and contentment and understanding and love, and he knows he's growing a bit more delirious now but that doesn't change the fact that he still hopes for all these things.

Tomorrow, he knows he'll feel much better and the cut on the back of his head that Joel seems to have deemed not even worthy of a bandage will seem like a silly, distant memory that they'll be able to laugh about later; but for now, Spencer is shaking himself out of his thoughts--not without a flinch of pain--and realizing with slow comprehension that Joel's hands are on his shirt, working at his buttons, and there's Joel's voice again telling him that they ought to get Spencer into something clean wear. This one is stained with blood, after all, it wouldn't do to soil the bedsheets with it, too; but a small part of him hopes it takes Joel longer than it likely should to fumble with his buttons because he quite likes the warmth of the prince's hands so close to his chest.

He's standing on his feet without even remembering that he'd been helped to do that at all, and he think he'd be more worried about the effect this will have on his head if he didn't think that his thoughts of Joel were a good enough sign that everything is still working properly. Even in spite of himself, Spencer's priority is Joel, just like it had been yesterday and just like it will be tomorrow. In just one day, he has become willing to give himself to Joel, to let himself belong to Joel because he's never been more certain about anything that this prince, this man, would never do anything to take advantage of him. Joel would never harm him, never hurt him, and Spencer doesn't know how or why he knows that but it's as easily acceptable a fact as his own existence.

He catches one of Joel's hands in his when the prince gets down to the last button, suddenly understanding just what is happening and flushing all over again at the prospect of Joel seeing him without his shirt on for the second time in a day. It's not that he's embarrassed about his body, he hadn't been when he'd been found in the sails, but this is a much more intimate setting. His feelings for Joel have only grown deeper, especially after their trip to the marketplace and the kisses to the cheeks they'd exchanged and Joel's care for him now--it's all amounted to a sudden bashfulness that he can't hide, though his hand does loosen until he drops it to his side and lets his eyes flutter shut to let Joel finish his work.

He trusts Joel thoroughly, with every part of himself, and this is hardly putting his life in the man's hands but Spencer certainly wouldn't let just anyone in the palace undress him so intimately. It feels as if they've known each other for so much longer than they truly have, and Spencer has no idea why he feels such a pull toward Joel but if he's honesty, he doesn't care to question it.

All he knows is that this is important, that if there's any hope at all of them being together, Spencer has to let go of his fears and insecurities and anxieties over what may come by the end of his time here. It's easier said than done, and perhaps his efforts will be met with more resistance some days than others, but Spencer is prepared to do what he must to keep Joel in his life.

[just_another]

It feels like it takes Joel forever to undo each and every button and it isn't until he's down to the last that Spencer stops him and he hesitates, wondering if he should have just walked away. He isn't a medic, he's a prince, he doesn't know the first thing about taking care of someone who's been injured and he should have left this to someone more qualified, someone whose mouth wouldn't have gone dry at the sight of the skin he's slowing revealing and someone whose hands wouldn't be shaking now that they've been stopped at the very last button, held there by Spencer's hand, as if they're both waiting for something else to happen. It's silly, of course, he knows it is. Spencer is injured and Joel's primary concern needs to be getting him comfortably into bed, although he knows he's going to have to come back every few hours to check on him and make sure something worse doesn't happen because he knows that's how head injures behave. He knows there's a long night ahead of them both and he thinks it might be best if he doesn't make the entire evening horribly awkward be assuming too much and being too forward. This is the job for someone who knows what they're doing, someone who's able to look at Spencer with an unbiased, professional medical view instead of the way Joel finds his gaze sweeping over him, hungry and longing.

But then Spencer's hand falls aside and Joel finishes unbuttoning the shirt he's wearing, then lifts both his hands and eases it off Spencer's shoulders. There's a part of him that wants desperately to smooth his hands over his skin, touching him everywhere he's able, but he's being trusted with taking care of Spencer and so instead of letting himself give in to the most intense desires he's ever felt, Joel is very careful about removing Spencer's shirt without touching him more than necessary. His hands are still trembling faintly and when his fingertips graze against the smooth skin of Spencer's biceps, for a second Joel thinks he might just have to run. He might have to drop the shirt and flee for fear that he does something far too bold. Because there's a bed just behind them and he'd be able to wrap his arms around Spencer in an instant and fall on top of the covers with him. It would take barely the slightest movement at all and Joel wants it so badly that he, alarmingly, can feel his body responding to just the mere thought of it.

Spencer's been injured. He has to remind himself of that as he finally manages to remove his shirt the rest of the way. Carefully, Joel turns and lays it over the edge of a chair so that he might take it with him when he goes. And he thinks he should find something for Spencer to put on instead, something clean and comfortable, something that might ease the tension in the room, but when Joel looks at him, he feels like he's been frozen in place by the sight of him. On the beach the day before, he'd had barely a moment to look at him before all his concerns had turned to getting Spencer to the palace where he might rest. They had touched and Spencer had truly been far more exposed then than he is now, but Joel's focus had been on one thing. Now that he's here, now that Spencer is safe, if still injured, he's been allowed a moment to look and though he tries not to, he can't seem to help himself. His gaze sweeps over Spencer's upper body and he knows he shouldn't make such a show of it, he should at least try to hide it, but he can't seem to, even as a flush darkens his cheeks.

After being dragged through the waves, he'd known well that Spencer is strong. Such a thing had been impossible to deny when he felt that arm locked around his chest, tugging him up to the air. But under the shirts and trousers his mother has supplied to Spencer, he looks deceptively slim and now here, in the warm afternoon sunlight still filtering in through the curtains, Joel can see it truly is a deception. He's stronger than anyone might expect, his arms lean and toned, his chest perhaps quite narrow, but his shoulders surprisingly broad. He is slim, built in a way quite unlike Joel, but there's strength there, more than most people might expect and the sight of Spencer's warm, smooth skin, the sight of the way his shoulders and arms shift and pull makes Joel's breath catch in his throat.

And he isn't being subtle, he knows it, but he can't seem to help himself. It takes several long moments before he realizes just how close he's still standing, how there's barely a few inches between them and then he clears his throat, feeling foolish and quite rude all at once. Spencer has been hurt and even if their affections are mutual, this is hardly the time to be acting on them.

"Sit," he says softly, urging Spencer back toward the edge of the bed. "I'll find you something to wear. You should rest, but I'll have to check in on you every so often. Or would you..." Joel pauses in the act of going to the closet, rifling through the night clothes until he finds something soft and light, something that will be comfortable without being too warm. "Would you rather I stay?"

He thinks maybe he shouldn't, not with the way his body has been responding to Spencer's. If he climbs into that bed beside Spencer, even if it's only to sit up with him, he's afraid that his response might be all but impossible to hide and he's embarrassed to be standing here, so aroused by Spencer when what he needs is assistance, not some prince who can barely hold himself together in the presence of someone he's attracted to.

[doublethepain]

His throat has gone dry by the time Joel slips his shirt off his shoulders, and Spencer can't quite meet the prince's eyes for fear of how obvious the burning on his cheeks must be right now. He's never been good at hiding this sort of thing, how utterly bashful he can get under the right circumstances, and even in just the past day, Joel seems to positively excel at making him blush. He's almost thankful when Joel gently sits him back down on the bed and turns away to face the wardrobe, it gives Spencer a chance to finally release the breath he's been holding and at least make an attempt to get his racing heart back to something steadier. All at once, he needs Joel to keep his distance and come back closer because while he already knows he never wants to be from the prince, Spencer thinks that if Joel does stay, this evening may turn out quite differently than either of them may have expected.

It's not that he'd find that to be a problem; but he doesn't want to overwhelm Joel so quickly, even if Spencer's heart is telling him that they want the same thing--they have to, what he'd felt on the beach was far too strong to be all in his mind--and right now, half-undressed and breathing heavily with the man he wants more than anything just a few feet away, Spencer isn't sure that he'd be able to do much in the way of keeping himself under control. All he wants to do is cross the room and kiss him, the blow to his head and the pain in his legs be damned, or if nothing else, to be held in the warmth of Joel's arms for the rest of the night.

Whether that's something the prince is offering in his question of whether Spencer wants him to stay or not, he isn't sure. What he does know is that there could never come a time that Spencer wouldn't want him at his side. Even the time between leaving him on shore and returning to him at the site of Joel's wrecked boat had been a trial, after all. It had been the uncertainties that had worried him the most, the questions of whether he'd ever seen Joel again and if he did, would it only ever be from afar? Would he ever get the chance to hold Joel's hand again, to know what it's like to brush his lips against someone's temple and feel as if there's nobody else in the world he's meant to touch in that way?

He has a better understanding now of how easily Ersa had manipulated him, how she'd twisted his feelings until he'd seen no option but to exchange his tail and voice for legs and pain, and Spencer knows he'd probably be expected to view her as something vile. He should probably think of her as a bit cruel, this sea witch who does no good deed for free, but Spencer can't find it in him to do it because in spite of what she'd taken from him, Ersa had also given him his greatest gift--the chance to make this love last, to not live out the rest of his life in regret and wishful thinking of what things could be like if only he could find another moment with Joel again.

The room isn't cold, but Spencer shivers as Joel turns his gaze back on him. His head still stings but it's dulled to a manageable throb, something that Spencer won't spare much concern about come tomorrow or even right now because he's been hurt worse before, much to the dismay of his father. This is next to nothing, really, and he'd be happy to explain that to Joel with a wave of his hand but the only thing that stops him is knowing that if he does, he'll have to wait until morning to see the prince again. It's selfish, possibly even the slighest bit devious, but he so desperately wants Joel to stay. Needs Joel to stay.

Without another thought, he lifts his hand to reach out for Joel, beckoning him back to his side on the bed. Regardless of what state he's in, Spencer knows well enough that nothing can happen between them tonight that amounts to more than perhaps the kind of touch that wouldn't be expected of two people who are merely friends. They barely know each other and yet, Spencer feels as if he's known Joel forever. He trusts this man with his life, with his heart and soul and body, and Spencer cannot for the life of him understand why or how this has happaned, only that it has and that he isn't willing to fight it. So if Joel only sits beside him tonight to make sure Spencer wakes, it will still mean the world. It will mean that there's nowhere else either of them would rather be.

After just a brief moment of hesitation, he pushes himself back on the bed until his legs are lifted onto the mattress and he's lying against the pillows. His stomach turns a bit with how nervous he is, his eyes focusing more closely than they need to on the rich reds and golds that form patterns on his blanket and he sinks down against the pillows he's been told are so soft because they've been stuffed with goose feathers. He'd examined everything in his room to a great extent last night, though, so it's not as if he's seeing the shimmering threaded details for the first time; he just needs something to distract from the fact that Joel's eyes had traveled down the length of his chest once his shirt had come off, that his own body had responded in such a way that is both familiar and unfamiliar all at once, and he doesn't yet know how best to handle it.

No matter, he supposes; Joel has been nothing but patient with him thus far, and Spencer trusts that won't end. The next two weeks will be a journey for them both, he hopes, but they'll face it together. That's all that Spencer wants.

[just_another]

Joel returns to the bed with the night shirt in his hands and he offers it to Spencer before he pauses and then reaches down to unlace his boots. Eventually someone is going to come up to the room and check on them and he supposes he should lend some thought to what they might think when they see that Joel is still here, that he's on the bed with Spencer, that he hasn't left him to the care of the medics or the nursemaids. The thought of leaving Spencer now seems at once unbearable and like the best course of action, and Joel is genuinely torn. He thinks it would be best for them both if he didn't allow himself to give into what he knows is temptation and stay in Spencer's room, but he also doesn't like to think of how that might damage the connection they've begun to forge. Even if they are to remain only friends, Joel doesn't want Spencer thinking that he isn't wanted here at the palace or that he's not welcome. The reason he's here is because Joel cares for him and while the rest of the palace is happy enough to have him here, he knows they wouldn't protest if Joel were to suddenly send him away. But he doesn't want that. And he never wants Spencer to think that he would want anything like that, so once he's unlaced his boots, he kicks them off and slides onto the bed beside Spencer.

It's a large enough mattress that he can keep his distance without it being too obvious, but Joel can't seem to help himself. He shifts until he's leaning back against the pillows as well, his shoulder touching Spencer's, and even just that one single point of contact is enough. He can't allow himself anymore, not unless he wants to risk either pushing Spencer too hard or being caught in an extremely compromising position. Not that this isn't compromising enough in itself. The prince is currently reclining in the same bed as the man who's only just arrived at the palace after saving the prince's life. He knows how that sort of scenario might spiral out of control when it comes to the gossip mill and he knows he shouldn't risk such a thing, but here he is anyway, completely unable to talk himself out of being here. There will always be something to gossip about, something for the villagers to whisper about and while Joel has never done anything to play into this insatiable need to create some kind of dramatic situation, he's also never really done anything to stir their interest. Not until now.

He thinks maybe he should do what Spencer had done the day before, find a story to tell him, something to pass the time, but for all the books Joel has ever read, he finds he can't actually think of a single story to tell. There are too many options, too many stories he's read over the course of his life and he finds himself so nervous in this position that they're all jumbled up in his brain. One leads into another in a way he knows can't be possible and he's frowning up at the ceiling, trying to find a single thread in all the mess, one single story that he can tell to pass the time and keep Spencer entertained, but none will come to him. He tries to think of the stories his mother told him when he was a boy, the way she'd huddle in his bed with him just before he drifted off to sleep, the words she'd quietly speak and the melodic way her voice would lull and soothe him. She'd told so many tales that he knows there has to be one or two he can recall for Spencer in this situation, but none come to him.

There's only one thing that does. One thing she used to do for him and without giving it much thought, Joel takes a breath and finds himself singing. He isn't as talented a singer as his mother, his voice is low and rough and quiet, almost as if he's faintly embarrassed by the entire thing, but he remembers all the words of the song unlike all the stories he's trying to grasp, and that's something. It's one of his favourite songs, too, one that reminds him of his childhood, one that he's just always known, one that has always caught him with it's gentle, slightly melancholy words in a way he's never quite known how to describe. There's nothing sad about this moment, but it seems fitting all the same, even if his voice never gets any louder or any stronger. He isn't a singer, he isn't particularly talented, but he likes it anyway.

He likes it at the moment, anyway, and he wonders how much of that is due to Spencer.

He stumbles over a few of the words and laughs even as he sings, not as embarrassed by that as he would have thought he might be. When he finishes, when it's over and he's still looking up at the ceiling, he inches his fingers toward Spencer on the mattress and finds his hand, threading their fingers together, holding onto him. For some reason he can't quite look over at him, but his expression is light, slightly amused, even as he continues to look up at the ceiling. He truly doesn't know what's just come over him, why he would have thought to do that, but now that it's done, the words dying away in the empty, quiet room, he doesn't know if he needs a reason. He doesn't think Spencer will mind much.

Still, he says, "I couldn't think of a story to tell you." As if that will explain why he chose the song instead.