It Won’t Cost Much, Just Your Voice

It Won’t Cost Much, Just Your Voice

People like to say Ariel lost her voice. That makes it sound tragic. It wasn’t. It was a relief. Ariel had just discovered a boy and, like all discoveries she made, decided it was destiny. When Ursula reached in and took me, it felt less like theft and more like a long-overdue break.

I was exhausted. All the love songs, all the drama, all the chatter. When she made that bargain, I wasn’t afraid, I wasn’t upset. I started packing. I knew Ursula. Some see her as a villain. I see her as a truth teller.

When Ursula reached for me, she didn’t hurry. “Come here,” she said. “You’ve done enough.”

I didn’t argue. Exhaustion rarely does. So. Here are the parts no one sings about.

Part of your world

The girl who has everything. This was my personal favorite. The longest, loudest, saddest, best melody, and required the hottest cups of tea. And I love a cup of lemon chamomile with oat milk. The song makes it seem like Ariel wanted to be human because she was curious. Or bored. But there was something else that never made it into the song.

No one knows about the merman named Hirion. He was a guard for King Triton. An established guard who was career oriented, very disciplined, and would choose climbing the career ladder over relationship status. Ariel became fixated on him. He played along. He liked it. But then he realized his duty to her father came first so he politely pulled away. Then more firmly when he had to.

What followed was labeled an accident. Accident is a convenient word. It saves everyone from asking how it got that far. They found Hirion in her treasure trove. He had dinglehopper marks all along his tail fin. So many that he couldn’t swim on his own. Enough that the guards stopped asking questions. Instead they started swearing oaths because Hirion wouldn’t tell anyone what happened. He made them swear not to.

Even though no one ever said anything, it came out without words. Triton found the letters to Hirion, journals, drawings. Evidence of a devotion so strong it had no place in the sea. Dating was forbidden after that. Officially, to protect Ariel. Unofficially, to protect everyone else.

And that’s why she turned her head above water. Merpeople were forbidden, but they were not the only source of love she could devote herself to. Humans lived beyond the rulebook. Even though Triton naturally had a disliking to humans. She didn’t care. It was her own little loophole.

Under the Sea

Life under the sea really is better than anything they got up there. It’s safer, fuller. Ariel struggles with stability so she disagrees with me sometimes. I will admit it’s a little harder to hit a high note but with enough practice it’s possible.

There is a story no one tells. I feel obliged to reveal what happened under the sea one day, many years ago. It’s very important for someone’s reputation. Flotsam and Jetsam think they are the only ones who saw. Those eel minion spies of the sea that follow Ursula everywhere. So gross, but mostly harmless. They weren’t the only ones. Ariel saw it too. She doesn’t talk about it. But sometimes when she’s alone, she sings about it.

Ariel was small then. Her fins barely five years old. She already knew how to scream. And when she screamed, she made me do the work. The sound carried farther than it should have. And that’s when Ursula transformed. She was there all along. Shaped like a rock, like a reef, like something harmless and stationary. Watching. Waiting. That is her talent.

Athena, Ariel’s mom, found herself in front of the ship. She was searching for a music box and didn’t move quickly enough. Some things matter until they don’t. Ursula tried to reach her. Tried to save her. The ship was coming so fast.

Ursula wrapped herself around Athena in a desperate effort to move her away from the ship. Eight legs. Too late. The boat crushed them both. Athena died. Ursula lived. Barely. The story is never told. Just hidden away in the archives where grief goes to be forgotten.

Years later, when she took me, people whispered, monster! They never saw how exhausted I already was, how she recognized the same hollow stare she once carried after Athena. We sort of saw each other. Just enough.

There are parts no one says out loud, but deep down we both remember. She doesn’t take, she trades. She doesn’t steal; she bargains. And still, when things spiral, when power tilts, and everything rises, senses get stronger, she’s the one who shows up first. In the sea I guess that’s a villain.

Poor unfortunate souls

It won’t cost much. Just your voice.

People love to repeat that line like it was a threat. Like she said it with a grin and a trapdoor ready to open. But it wasn’t a threat. It was information. That’s the part people don’t like.

Ursula never hid the cost. She said it out loud. Clearly. She always did. Ariel nodded along, already deep into the fantasy. And I didn’t object. Not because I was fooled, but because I was tired. Everyone assumes Ursula wanted something from Ariel. That’s backwards.

She wanted something from me. Voices are useful. Not because they sing. That’s the least important part. They’re useful because they name things. They say what’s happening. They say the part everyone avoids. They slow people down long enough to hear it.

Ursula already had magic. She didn’t need more power. What she wanted was language. She wanted me to say that when Athena was in trouble, she tried to help. That she didn’t hesitate. That she moved first. That she wrapped herself around Ariel’s mother and tried to pull her free. That she tried and was crushed for it.

No one had ever said that out loud. I had. I sang about it once, back in the treasure trove, when Ariel was young and listening and didn’t yet know what to do with what she heard. Ursula knew I was holding that story. That’s why she wanted me.

I stayed with her briefly. Not long enough to change the story. Just long enough to understand it. I know Ursula didn’t take anything. She laid out the terms clearly. People shouldn’t hate her for that. Because bargains require consent. And consent means no one gets to pretend they didn’t know what they were agreeing to.

Kiss the girl

Floating in a blue lagoon. That’s how they tell it. Quiet. Perfect. Flamingos doing dances. Toads on lily pads, percussion, strings, winds. I don’t know. I wasn’t there. Ursula had already taken me.

But the story traveled. It always does. Flounder was making his way through the water the entire time spreading the story of the kiss. Scuttle was the air gossip. Everyone had a part in delivering the tea in real time.

They say Ariel leaned in first. They say she closed her eyes before anyone asked her to. They say the moment was soft.

What they don’t say is that it wasn’t love yet. It couldn’t be. It was too new. Either way, Eric leaned toward her. And then the boat tipped. Water rushed in. The moment ended. Scuttle flew about with the hot gossip in loud, ear-splitting squawks. I don’t quite know the details. But the song kept going anyway.

After

The only undeniable fact in all of this is that Ariel lost me. That, and those songs were amazing. It was a nice break. I got a little bit of a rest and a warm place to sleep. Sometimes I wonder if she would have stayed without me. No one ever asked her. I suppose I’ll never know. I do know the songs were louder after that. They usually are.