maritimeericandersen

[maritimeericandersen]

Trojan Horse || Henry + Eric

As planned, Eric goes to stand trial before the Order. (It does not go to plan.) 

[TW: violence, drowning, major character death.]

@charmed-henry

ERIC The sky was overcast. He expected nothing less of London.

It had been some time since he had left Swynlake— last year’s Spring Break felt like a lifetime ago. The world was so different outside of its borders. Dulled to a grey. Or maybe that was just the clouds that didn’t seem to move in the sky, ensuring that the world was as boring to look at as it was to walk through.

Eric had woken up far too early that morning, rubbing at the grit in the corners of his eyes. He’d stayed the night at Grim’s, having not wanted to wake Ollie up with his fumbling about in the wee hours. The man was going to drive Eric up to London. (He had rather insisted when Eric told him what was going on and had refused to allow him to go to the meeting.) He removed himself from the bed after getting his wits about him and began to get ready for the day, knowing he didn’t have time for a lie about. That could come later. When all of this was over and when Tom had his baby back in his arms, where he belonged. This, more than anything, is what made Eric’s usual sluggish movements of the morning more awake and focused. He had a job to do, he had no intention of screwing it up.

Grim had fussed with him when he met Eric in the kitchen, saying he needed to go put on the suit Grim had left out for him. Eric didn’t argue, only laughed. As if he was going to get all dressed up for these people. Instead he wore his usual make up— trainers, a pair of dark trousers, a t-shirt, and a cream knit sweater over it.

Eric placed Max’s bowl down, the both of them eating breakfast in sync. When they’d finished, Eric washed their bowls and let the dog outside. Then it was time to leave. Eric crouched down to give Max a pet and squeezed him tight around the middle. He held the dog’s face in his hands, pushing the hair from his eyes. “I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

Max licked his face, making him laugh. Soon, the dog agreed.

The drive up was filled with a tension that Eric hated, trying to drown it out with the radio. Grim was on edge and Eric couldn’t blame him. He’d promised he was never going back— yet here he was, doing just that and making Grim take him.

“I feel as though I’m dropping you off for training all over again.” They had pulled up to the curb, two blocks away from where Eric was supposed to be. Eric chuckled, pulling his seatbelt off and putting a hand on the door handle, about to get out when a hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Be careful, my dear boy.”

Eric reached up to place his hand over Grim’s and squeezed. “Aren’t I always?”

Spring it may have been, but Winter still had its hold of the city. As soon as he stepped onto the sidewalk the wind blew past him, cold and unforgiving. It felt like a relief against his too warm skin from the heater of the car. He gave Grim a wave, watched the man hesitate, then get honked at, and the car pulled away. Eric waited there until he couldn’t see the tail lights any longer.

He followed the sidewalk until a cafe came into his path and ducked inside. The smell of coffee and fresh bread hit the back of his throat as soon as he breathed in (it wasn’t as good as the one back in Swynlake, but familiar in a way he had almost forgotten). He ordered a cup of tea and carried it out with him as he continued on his way.

They were expecting him in fifteen minutes.

Eric showed up in twenty.

“Good morning, Mr. Andersen.” A man greeted him at the front doors. Eric didn’t recognize him, just like he hadn’t known who had turned up at his flat.

“Yeah, alright.” He wasn’t about to have a pleasant conversation with these people or pretend to be anything other than what he was. That part of his life was finished and over with. “Where to then?”

He was led through the hallways of marble floors and high vaulted ceilings. The Order and its old money showing off with the decor, like always. Behind closed doors it hid the blood and betrayal but here? Here was where it tried to hide its wounds— paintings that cost more than the car he had just hopped out of, chandeliers that hung from above like a threat, items from their history that Eric had once seen as marks of their power. Now, he saw it as thieves hanging their stolen goods out for display, knowing their would be no consequences.

“Right this way, Mr. Andersen.”

Through a pair of large, wooden double doors Eric was guided out into their impromptu trial room. In front was a large desk that was higher up, as if on a riser. There the King sat— on his makeshift throne. He was glaring at Eric, no doubt annoyed at his tardiness.

Eric wondered why that stare had once made him cower, now it only made him smile.

On either side of the King were a few other men, all looking equally as cross and displeased. They all wore suits, prim and proper as ever.

He walked down an aisle, like he was headed down to the altar, and on either side of him were rows and rows of seated people. Eric recognized a few of them— people he used to be friends with, people his parents used to know, people who he had only seen in passing. They all stared at him in different measures of judgment.

Just as he was about to turn away, done with trying to see who all had come out to watch the show that morning, he caught sight of a familiar face.

Henry.

HENRY The sky was overcast, and Henry woke up far earlier than he should have. He should have slept better in his own bed at home, with no mara in his bed to plague him with nightmares, but Henry tossed and turned anyway, giving up on sleep altogether as the sky gradually started to lighten. As though the sun, too, wished to postpone this day.

He took a shower. He took Duke for a walk. He sat in the dining room for a long time, not drinking his coffee, watching the painting of his great grandfather go blurry in front of his eyes. He put on a smart white jumper and combed his hair and hoped the dark circles under his eyes weren’t too prominent.

“Father?” Henry appeared in the doorway of his father’s study. “I’m ready.”

Christopher turned around from the notebook he was writing in. Henry wondered if he was planning what he was going to say to the king. If he was going to try and make his bid to be next in line. This would certainly give him some leverage, wouldn’t it? His son, bringing a rogue back to the Order?

Henry’s father smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners, a smile Henry had seen before but constantly chased. There was nothing like the feeling of seeing that smile directed at him. As Henry stood in the doorway of the office, Christopher walked past him, but paused to put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m really proud of you, son,” he said softly.

But instead of feeling full and loved and content the way he always thought he would feel when his parents said something like that, Henry just felt a little nauseous. Like he had eaten too much candy.

He was silent on the drive over to the new Hall, recently moved due to security concerns after the Huntsclan exposé. He was silent as he walked in, as the beautiful paintings and gilded walls bore down on him in a way that felt, for once, somehow suffering. He was doing the right thing. He was doing the right thing. Father was proud of him. And this was going to be very good for the family. Most of all, of course, Eric was coming back to the Order. The king would find a way to bring him back. He just had to keep telling himself that.

When Eric stepped out onto the floor and met his eyes, Henry felt like something had pierced him right through the heart. How had they gotten here? It wasn’t supposed to be this way. He averted his eyes, taking a deep, shaky breath. He had nothing to feel guilty or worried about. Jacqueline had promised him, Father had promised him, Henry had to believe them.

So why did he have such a terrible feeling about this?

ERIC As soon as Henry’s head turned Eric wrenched his eyes away, staring down the aisle to the King and his court with unseeing eyes.

Why was Henry here? To gloat? To be able to say I told you so in some fashion? Did he really think so terribly of Eric that he had to come all the way up to London because he wanted to see the Order scold him? It made his stomach tighten up into knots, made him want to whirl around, stalk back down the aisle, just to tell Henry that the only reason Eric had even considered showing up today was for Tom and for the baby that these people had stolen away from him— but that would be counterproductive to this plight.

After. When the baby was back in Tom’s arms and everyone was out of harm's way then maybe he would talk with Henry— that was if he hadn’t been in on the kidnapping. (Surely Henry had not fallen that far from grace, pulled down into the depths by the people he sat amongst.) Then Eric could try to argue against the Order, about why Henry needed to get out of there while he still had the chance. The window was closing and Eric didn’t want to have to watch him from the other side of it.

His escort stopped behind a little desk and chair that sat at the end of the aisle. It was facing the King, away from the audience at its back. The man motioned for Eric to take his seat.

For now, thoughts of Henry would have to wait. If he was going to get through this with his wits about him then he needed to be present, not lost inside his own mind.

Eric pulled the chair out, letting the legs scrape against the marbled floor. The sound echoed off the walls, reverberating against the empty surfaces that littered the room. He made sure to adjust it a bit, ignoring the growing agitation of the faces that stared at him, before finally plopping down into the seat.

“You’re late, Mr. Andersen.” The King’s voice was deep, saturated in the pain of the lack of manners being displayed before him in a room of gentlemen and ladies— and one Eric Andersen.

“Sorry about that! Forgot how hard it is to find a good parking space in the city.” He smiled at the silence that followed.

“Let us begin. We have gathered here today to discuss the crimes committed against the Order by Eric Andersen, the last remainder of the Andersen family bloodline. Up until recently we were under the impression that Mr. Andersen had died in a shipwreck that had been on a mission to help find a creature of unknown species that had been reportedly damaging boats and putting fisherman’s lives in danger.” The King looked up from what Eric assumed was some sort of report and eyed him. “Is that true Mr. Andersen?”

“Yep.”

There was a pause— apparently they had expected him to answer differently. Plead innocence? Try to spin it a different way? Start off by begging for forgiveness? The King cleared his throat.

“And after surviving said shipwreck you told no one of your survival, disappeared, lived in the only town in Great Britain that allows magic to be practiced in public spaces, participated in an unauthorized hunt, and have renounced your position within the Order? Is that correct?”

Eric nodded. “Yes, that seems about right.” (Give or take a few things.)

“Would you care to explain yourself, Mr. Andersen?”

Eric shook his head, shrugging. What was there to say? He felt no need to tell these people of his decisions, if his oldest friend had not been able to understand then no one in this room would. It was pointless. He was there because he had to be, not because he wanted to be and certainly not to plead his case— there was none to be made in either his or the Order’s eyes.

“Very well.”

The proceedings that followed were all very boring, he nearly dozed off ten minutes in as the King recited some sort of piece from the Order’s law or whatever it was they were supposed to have studied but Eric had skimmed and promptly forgotten once he’d gotten through the tests over it. (Ridiculous to think of such things now.)

“We would like to bring someone up to speak to tell his side of the events that we are discussing here today.” The King turned to give a nod to someone, the man who had escorted Eric from the front room was now signaling for someone from the audience to join them. This pulled Eric’s attention back into order on his own snort because who the bloody hell had they—? He turned his head to watch Henry stand up.

Ah.

“Henry Fitzwilliam Charming, thank you for coming today. We would like to acknowledge the bravery and loyalty this young man has displayed throughout this endeavor.” The tone of voice used was much more jovial. It would have made Eric roll his eyes had he not had them trained on Henry. “Mr. Charming, please, if you would be so kind as to give us your side of the story for our records here today.”

HENRY The thing was, Henry didn’t feel very brave or loyal. He felt like a coward.

He knew he was doing this for Eric’s own good. Jacqueline had told him that many times over. If he couldn’t get through to Eric, he needed to call in backup, and someone was going to have to get through to Eric. They couldn’t have an Order defector running around and sabotaging Order plans. That was dangerous for everyone. And if Father got bumped up in the line for the throne, well, that was a nice reward for all the trouble.

So why did he feel so ashamed? Why did he feel like, when he went to sleep tonight, Ashleigh would peel back all the layers of things he had told himself to get to this point and see a weak, scared boy who didn’t know how to tell his family “no”?

It was too late for that at this point, though. There were guards posted at the doors, their gleaming weapons on display. The king’s gaze was piercing. His father patted him on the shoulder and whispered, “Go on, then, son. You can do it.” Shaking, Henry got to his feet.

“Eric Anderson was my best friend,” Henry said, his tone coming out weak and croaky. He cleared his throat. Though he was looking at Eric while he spoke, Henry didn’t dare meet his eyes. “He was my best friend. We were in training together. And when I was at my lowest, he always had my back. He was an extraordinary person. A bit funny at times. Always meant well, though. I was devastated when I thought he had died. I was in denial about it for a while, actually– never really– anyway.”

He gulped, fighting back tears. “I kept Eric’s secret because I thought that is what best friends do. I thought that if I showed him how important our mission was, he would find his way back to the Order on his own. We planned a mission together. To find a mermaid. And when a dangerous aquatic monster started attacking people in the lake– including an innocent Mundus girl who has shown me nothing but friendship– Eric even helped me try to catch it. I thought I was getting somewhere.

“That mission failed. Eric was injured, and I got worried. I had already lost him once. I didn’t want to lose him again. I decided to take matters into my own hands, to do my own research and acquire a trap for this creature. I didn’t tell Eric about this, because by this point he had made it quite clear he wanted nothing to do with the Order. I thought that would be fine. I was… foolish. And weak. I thought we could be friends, I could keep my secrets and he would keep his. And then, one day, Eric threatened that if I didn’t take the trap out of the lake, he was going to go to the authorities. That was when I realized– letting Eric run around with Order secrets and no loyalty to the organization was dangerous. I knew what I had to do. I told my father.”

It was getting harder for Henry to keep it together. He wanted to stop now, to run from that room hide where nobody could see him cry. But he had practiced this speech with his family. He had to do it perfectly. They were all counting on him. Finally, Henry would bring recognition to the Charming family.

“I know I have made many mistakes over the course of events I have just recounted. And I understand the Order may want to extend my probation, or even to strip me of my title. I am prepared for that possibility. I know what I did was wrong. Hubris was my downfall. I believed I could change Eric Anderson, because I loved him– like he was my own brother.” Now, Henry met Eric’s eyes, because he wanted him to know this part was for him. “I still do. And it hurts me to stand here and see him in this position. But I hope you will see that I meant well. That I tried to save him from– from himself.” Something in his tone shifted and became faraway and strange. He had gone a bit off script just then– he had to go back to what he had rehearsed. “And I hope the court will see my participation in this trial as proof of my… unwavering l-loyalty to the Order of the Prince.”

ERIC The urge to hold on to his anger while Henry went on and on (and on) was too hard. His fingers may have clutched to it, knuckles white, but there was no real strength behind it. He had started out sitting there, jaw clenched and glare steady, only to wind up with misty eyes and the tight feeling of emotions caught at the back of his throat.

Henry had told them. Henry was the reason he was here. He had been sold out by his own friend.

It was not a surprise. Betrayal had long since been stabbed into Eric’s heart by the hand of Henry Charming, the wound still open and fresh. There was nothing new here for him to gasp at, to grow angry over.

Eventually, he couldn’t even look at Henry anymore. Pleading his case to the King like he was the one standing trial instead of Eric. It might have been pathetic if he didn’t care about Henry the way he did.

“Mr. Andersen?” He looked up, sniffing. When no one said anything he made a face to ask, yeah? What do you want? The King sighed. “Do you have anything to say in defense of yourself against what Mr. Charming has claimed here today?”

“No.” Eric had never any intention on saying anything, but Then, he sat up a little bit. “Actually yeah, I do.”

He  turned in his seat to look at Henry again, ignoring how everyone else was staring at them. “I’m sorry, Henry. I’m sorry I failed you so completely.”

“Mr. Andersen—”

“I’m sorry I let you continue to come back to these people—”

“Mr. Andersen!”

“— and that they’ve made you into this person you’re not supposed to be. If you knew what they had done then you wouldn’t be here—”

“Mr. Andersen, that is quite enough!”

Men had entered the floor, standing on either side of the court’s podium like a threat. Eric kept his eyes on Henry for a moment before looking at the pair of them, wondering if it was worth the risk. Probably not. (After. There was always after.) He turned back around in his seat to show he’d comply.

The room seemed to breathe again.

“Now, Mr. Charming, you have no need to worry. The Order thanks you for what you have done and can see that you were only trying to uphold all that we stand for. You were betrayed by one of our own. We are here to offer forgiveness, not punishment. You have done us a great service in telling the truth. That is the bravest thing any of us can do.” The King smiled down at Henry before turning serious once more. “Mr. Charming, answer us this, do you think Mr. Andersen is a danger to not only himself but the members of the Order?”

HENRY Maybe, under different circumstances, Henry would have thought about the question more. The phrasing of it, the implications. The Princes who were closing in, looking menacing and serious. But all Henry could think about was Eric, acting without thinking as always, failing to see all the ways his bloody reckless stubbornness could get him into trouble. Henry wanted to shush him, to tell him to stop talking before he got himself into more trouble, the idiot he was.

No, it wasn’t just reckless stubbornness. It wasn’t just idiocy, either. Eric knew what he was doing, and he was doing it anyway because that was how much he cared. About the people he had met this year and the freedom he had earned. Maybe even about Henry. Eric wasn’t stupid. He was braver than Henry would ever be. And that thought made Henry hot and angry and defensive and deeply, deeply embarrassed.

The King was telling Henry that he had done the right thing. Forgiveness, not punishment. That had to extend to Eric, too, right? And Henry was going to say that, but now he could feel a painful tightness in his throat, and Eric was turning away from him again and Henry just wanted the King to fix everything, to put things back to the way they were before.

He wanted Eric to be a Prince again. He wanted Eric to be his friend again. And he wanted Eric to stop saying all of these things that made him question the world he had been raised in, that brought those secret thoughts he had late at night about running away with Ashleigh and leaving the Order behind into broad daylight. He wanted all of it to stop, because Eric’s words were ricocheting around in Henry’s brain, I’m sorry I failed you, and Henry wanted to say, No, I’m sorry I failed you.

He hadn’t failed, though, even though the voices in his head were telling him he was. The King was going to help Eric back onto the right track. He was going to demote Eric to a Squire, probably, but that was what would be best for him. He would learn everything over again. He would have a fresh start. That was what Jacqueline had said, anyway, when Henry had fretted that the King might not forgive him.

“Yes,” Henry croaked abruptly. “B-but it’s not his fault, he–”

The King narrowed his eyes, and Henry felt his father’s stare boring into his head. He cut himself off, and tried to imagine how much better things would be when Eric went through his training again, when Henry became his friend again.. “I’m sorry. The answer is yes.”

ERIC “Thank you, Mr. Charming. You may return to your seat.”

Eric’s eyes followed Henry, turning in his seat to watch as the other boy settled back in among the others, trying to think of how to communicate without saying it that they needed to talk— that Henry needed to somehow find him, away from his father and his family and all of these people.

“Mr. Andersen.” He swung back around to face the court, eyebrows raised at the King. “Do you have anything else you wish to say before we give our final verdict?”

He shook his head. No, no he did not.

It wouldn’t have mattered even if he did, Eric knew they had already made their decision as to what they were going to do before he had even stepped foot into the room. It had probably been as soon as Henry told them. He didn’t blame Henry, though— Eric’s fate had been sealed when he had been dragged out of the ocean by Gabriella to wake up on the sands of a very cold beach in Norway, left to figure out what to do all on his own.

“Very well.” The King cleared his throat and Eric gave a sigh. Here we go.

“Eric Andersen, son of Adrien Andersen and Isla Harrington, you have hereby been stripped of your membership on the grounds of crimes committed against the Order, endangering another member’s life, the lives of the innocent people we have sworn to protect, and putting this whole establishment and all that we have worked for, for centuries, at risk. Though you may no longer be a part of the Order, you are still our responsibility, just like all of those we seek to keep from harming others.”

The men who had entered the floor at Eric’s outburst had circled around without him even knowing it, too focused on trying not to burst out laughing at what was being said. They were behind him when they grabbed his arms, one for each of them. Eric looked back and forth between the pair, trying to wrench himself away but to no avail. He pushed himself to his feet, the chair flying back into the aisle behind him, screeching against the floor tile.

Managing to slip out of one of their grips, Eric turned on the other one that still had his arm, using his loose one to land a punch to the bloke’s chest. It made him grunt, stumble back, but he didn’t let go of Eric as he did, making Eric follow where he went. The shift made Eric lose his balance, giving the other Prince enough time to descend.

He grabbed Eric by the collar of his jumper, landing one punch to his nose, the next to his cheek. They landed just right, making his ears ring and vision go white as he fell to the floor. When he regained coherency they had a hold of him again, his feet trying to find purchase as they hauled him around the table out into the center before the court.

He felt their hands on his shoulders, trying to force him down. Eric tried to get away, heels digging into the ground like faulty brakes. One of them swore under his breath and Eric yelled out in pain as he felt his knee get kicked, it going in the wrong direction— the one that hadn’t even had a year to be fully mended. He went down, his good knee hitting the tile with a thunk before the other one followed. He spat, blood pooling in his mouth and from his nostrils. It dirtied the otherwise spotless floor beneath him. A hand clutched the dark curls on his head and yanked back, forcing him to look at the ceiling. The taste of copper at the back of his throat now.

The King continued on.

“You have disappointed all those who came before you in the Andersen bloodline and all that they stood for. You are a danger to everything we have fought to uphold— and for this, your punishment is death.”

The sound of a door opening and closing. Footsteps. Water.

Water?

Eric mustered up enough strength to pull himself forward, the fingers curled in his hair pulling some out as he got out of their grip to watch— two more men had entered the room. They were carrying a large tub between them, every step they took closer to him had the water inside sloshing over the side. A hand caught him again by the hair, tighter this time, and his head was hauled back.

“Let this be a lesson. The Order protects those who cannot protect themselves against the monsters that plague our world. Sometimes it is a heavy burden but we must bear it—”

The tub was set down in front of Eric, he could hear the water splash onto the floor, feel it as it seeped into the fabric of his trousers where his knees were forced to stay.

“—for who else will?”

Eric felt the hand on his head push forward. He tried to resist, and it worked— for a moment. Then another hand was around his neck and he was forced down. He managed to haul in a deep breath before his head hit the water, trying not to panic.

Silence filled his ears.

He tried to think of what to do. The grip on his arms and weight on his legs was never going to let him back up for air, not unless he fought for it and it was a battle he knew he couldn’t win. He was too out of practice and hadn't been in a fight for years now. Eric had never been the strong one, just like he hadn’t been a strategist or great with a weapon— the thing that had made him a worthy Knight had been the fact that he had wanted to be there, wanted to learn and do and be.

He wanted to just be. He wanted to live so badly but that wasn’t enough— the breath was leaking out of him. Bubbles rose to the surface past his face as they escaped out of his mouth. He was running out of time.

Could he play dead? Make them believe it a second time around to be true? Go limp and wait for them to pull him up and then—? No. They wouldn’t take him out until they knew for sure.

His lungs ached, wanting, needing.

The fingers on the back of his neck and in his hair were like pins, nails digging in his skin to ensure that he didn’t get loose ever again.  

The pressure in his chest started to become unbearable.

Eric’s body began fighting. He trashed, bucking against the weight and hold. He tried to stop himself, knowing that the movement would only eat up what little air he had left, what little time, but it wasn’t going to listen to him. Why should it listen to the idiot who had put it in this position in the first place? The one who didn’t take care of it, with all of the injuries and careless behavior? It was going to get out of this without him!

His mouth opened, desperation and hope and base instinct. Water rushed in, filling every available space it could take up because that’s what it did. It took. And it was going to take him. After having to let him go twice over now, it was finally going to claim its prize. Gabriella was not there to pluck him from this shallow depth.

There was no way out.

All this time Eric had thought he had escaped the cage. Maybe he had— but they had found him. So long as the cage still stood, heavy and hollow, they would always have come for him. Hands, with their shoving, pulling, restraining. They would never stop until they got what they wanted, but Eric would never give it to them.

Even now.

He thought of Grim, of his pressed shirts and warm mugs of tea. Max barking to be let in from the back garden. Going home to plop on the couch next to Ollie to hear about his day. Mr. Moon’s words of encouragement. How bright Danny’s smile was despite how shy it could be. The way Gabriella’s hand had felt in his and how it had slipped away.

Tom, who he had done this for in the first place. Who he had always wanted to impress and make proud and never disappoint. Here Eric was, failing him all over again. His innocent baby, too.

And Henry—

(Dear, soft, Henry, who was watching all this happen.)

The men continued to hold the boy under the water despite his body having gone lax, no longer holding itself up nor fighting back against them. They waited, their eyes on their King who was watching the boy.

They waited.

Time ticked by. Eric’s body still did not move.

The King nodded after a few more minutes than was necessary, waving a hand. The men pulled the body from the water, letting it slump against the floor, the wet clothes giving an uncomfortable sound as they hit. Blood had mixed in the water from his injury, wiping his skin clean of it but leaving his light jumper stained pink.

One of the men knelt down, fingertips pressed under the body’s jaw, another hand under his now crooked nose. The King (and everyone in the room)’s eyes bore down on him. The man stood and nodded.

“Eric Andersen is dead, your highness.”

They dragged his body from the room, a trail of water left behind. Lines of red ran through it, the blood splitting as it rose to the top.

The doors shut behind them.  

HENRY Suddenly, everything was happening very quickly. Suddenly, the men were surrounding Eric, grabbing him, hitting him, pushing him around like this was training again. Henry had never been very good at fighting them off either, back then.

Something about the King’s tone and the way everyone was looking at Eric, now, was giving Henry a feeling of intense dread in the pit of his stomach. But he tried to ignore it. He had done what he needed to do. He had brought Eric back to the Order. And now, once this was over– once the men stopped with this brutal, humiliating punishment– Eric would be back. And Henry could pretend this was all a bad dream.

But they didn’t stop. They kept going. And it slowly dawned on Henry what was really happening here. He had heard whispers of what sometimes happened to traitors but he hadn’t really thought– Eric wasn’t a traitor, he was a kid! Surely they couldn’t– they wouldn’t–

“Your punishment is death,” the King droned, and Henry felt as though he had been plunged into icy water. Everything looked different now, familiar faces swimming in his vision and seeming to turn to strangers before his eyes. His heart pounded in his chest. His jaw fell open. Everyone around Henry was looking directly forward, their faces blank (though Henry’s father seemed to be fighting something under the surface).

Henry tried to scream, but nothing came out. He almost shot out of his seat, but then there was his father’s hand on his shoulder. In the years that followed, Henry would look back on this moment, as he saw Eric’s face for the last time before he was forced into the water, and tell himself he couldn’t have done anything. That he had been lied to, that he had been manipulated, that he might be risking his own life by trying to stop them.

But he knew it wasn’t the truth. His mind would turn over all the different ways he could have stopped the events that unfolded next– or the ways he could have tried, at least, because that would have counted for something, surely.

Once, when Henry was ten, he had told Eric he would proudly die for him if it came down to it.

When had he become such a coward?

Maybe it wouldn’t work, Henry thought as his frantic mind raced. Eric had cheated death twice before. What was a third time? Maybe they were just trying to scare him. Maybe once he learned his lesson, they would let him go… yes, that sounded more likely, because the Order practiced forgiveness. And everyone had promised him, hadn’t they? Nothing was going to happen to Eric. He was going to be fine. He was going to be…

“Eric Andersen is dead.”

And this time, when Henry screamed, a sound did come out. “NO!” he cried, in a strangled, hoarse kind of way. He leapt out of his seat and sprinted for the door that Eric had been dragged through, except it wasn’t Eric anymore it was…

“You can’t do this. Bring him back,” Henry sobbed, pounding on the door and slowly sinking to his knees.

“Charming, please return to your seat.”

“NO!” Henry collapsed on the floor now, the bloodstained water seeping into his white jumper. “No, no, no…”

He was pulled to his feet by a pair of hands, which Henry soon recognized as his father. “My apologies, your highness,” Christopher muttered. “Temporary bout of madness.”

“You’re mad!” Henry gasped, choking on his own tears. “To murder a man and think nothing of it! He was… my best… friend… You murdered him!”

“He needs some air,” Christopher apologized, and the King nodded, looking rather annoyed.

“Go on, then. There is other business to attend to.”

Henry went on, sobbing and sputtering, as he was ushered out the door. Once they were in the garden, Henry looked around wildly, barely giving his father the opportunity to say anything before he took off into the alley, with no sense of where he was going, only knowing that he had to get away from this place.

#trojan horse #charmedhenry #tw drowning #tw death

[maritimeericandersen]

Swallowed In the Sea || Gabriella + Eric

After The Game Plan, Eric runs into Gabriella by the lake. 

[TW: brief mentions of violence, kidnapping, murder, and The Order being The Order]

@gabriella-marino

ERIC By the time Eric had left from the Acheron’s (Tom’s side, really) to go prepare for for what tomorrow would bring, it was late enough that the shadows cast across the ground were long and slanted, taller than their successors. He had been looking down at his phone, telling Grim he was coming over to fill him in on everything that was going on— because by god there was so much to tell. It was exhausting to even think about, let alone relay to someone. 

It was quiet as he passed by the lake, the water lapping up on the shore in hushed tones like it, too, was tense with what the past two days had brought this town. Eric paused, turning off his phone to shove back in his pocket, and walked closer until he was standing on the bank. The smell was so familiar now it was almost as comforting as that of the salty ocean— he needed to go back there one day. Maybe after all this was over, he would. See if Danny would still be willing to go sailing with him or go on one of those beach trips Grim, Max, and Eric would go on when they’d lived right next to one. It’d be a bit of a drive, but worth it surely.

He sat down, knees bent so he could rest his arms across them and his chin on the platform of them to watch the water, needing the moment. Of all the pain and heartache he felt right now for his cousin, all the anger and resentment he felt for those fucking piss ants— he just had to sit with it all, watching the stead back and forth of the water.

GABRIELLA: The trap was no longer in the lake and yet Gabriella still hesitated to swim in it. The memory of being inside that lightless box still fresh in her mind, kept that way due to nightmares that made her relive it. She didn’t want to be scared anymore, though, which was why she was at the lake. To show herself that there was nothing to be scared of anymore.

She knew she should have probably waited until nightfall, Aquata’s warnings not something she had taken lightly and knew very well she didn’t want to endanger the lives of any of her fellow merfolk by getting caught. But Candace wasn’t in the room and she had no other plans for the evening so she figured if she headed down there, she could wait until the sun had set and then get back home before it got too sus. As opposed to sneaking out in the middle of the night and coming back even later.

Only, when she got there, who else would she see sitting by the shore but one Eric Andersen.

His back was to her, seemingly not noticing her presence just yet, and it was giving her the chance to turn back.

Instead she walked forward and sat down beside him. She raised her eyebrows at him when he turned to look at her, as if to ask what he was doing there looking out onto the water like some sort of lighthouse keeper waiting for their ships to return safely to harbor.

Because, while at one point she had decided that she was going to hate him and ignore him should they ever cross paths, she had come to terms with the fact that she couldn’t just erase her feelings for him anymore. If they had gone unchanged by his confession, even after some time had passed for her to think it over countless time, then there was no point in fighting them. Bruce had seemed to have a better attitude toward him than Gabriella had, and he had all the more reason to dislike him. If he could learn, why not her?

ERIC He startled at the sound of footsteps approaching only to relax all over again when he turned to look and found Gabriella’s brown eyes staring back at him in that judgemental way of hers. He was a bit hesitant, unsure of what she meant by the expression she was giving him but he knew she must be wondering what he was doing there.

Why she cared was beyond him— after she and her friend had pulled the trap from the water he figured that would be the last time he ever saw her. Aside from in passing or from far away when she wouldn’t notice him but he would always notice her if they were in the same room together.

Eric sighed and turned his phone over, pressing it on and going to the notes app to give her a version of the story. (His cousin’s baby had been kidnapped and Eric was going to help find him.) He passed the phone over to her to read.

GABRIELLA: To say that had not been what she had been expecting was an understatement. Holy shit. Kidnapped? That was intense. She looked up, eyebrows creasing in concern, and typed back before handing the phone back over to him, No wonder you look so exhausted. I’m so sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?

There were a lot of other questions she wanted to ask, like if he knew who had taken the baby or if his cousin was okay or if they had gotten the police involved or… but she knew he had probably already been through that story a hundred times today. She didn’t want to make him relive it and this way, if he wanted to share that information, she had left it open for him to do so.

Gabriella glanced down to his arm, a fleeting thought of tucking hers around it and leaning her head against his shoulder came to mind before she shooed it off. No, he probably didn’t want anything like that coming from her of all people. She had no idea if he still felt the same way he had confessed to in that letter of his, the one tucked into her desk drawer underneath all the other random junk she threw in there. How could he? After the way she had reacted and all this time they had spent apart?

ERIC Reading her message made a corner of his mouth tug up— even when she hated him, she could still find it in herself to be compassionate, no hesitation necessary. It was one of the many things Eric liked about Gabriella, how she could put aside her anger in favor of something like this. So kind and caring that it was hard to grapple with that someone could be capable of such a thing.

He shook his head, No.

No, because there was genuinely nothing she could do to help. The plan had already been set into motion, Eric having called the Order up and been given an address and time to be in London the next morning. (Figures.)

No, because he didn’t want her involved with these people. They had already harmed her, their puppet strings on Henry had made their reach just far enough to threaten her life. There was already a baby’s life on the line, he didn’t want to mark it up with her’s, too.

“Thank you.” He had learned this sign, at the very least. (She had been the one to teach it to him.) Eric looked back out on the lake for a moment before going back to his phone.

The people who did this are the same people who taught me that people like you were nothing but monsters. It took me far too long to realize the exact opposite was the case.

GABRIELLA: She figured that was the answer she was going to get and nodded at his reply, having to bit the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling at his sign language because now was so not the time to be thinking of the moment she had taught it to him, having to watch him curse at her before he finally got the placement right.

Then he started typing again and Gabriella waited for him to offer the phone to her again. Her eyes flickered over the screen, widening when they finally found him again because, again, holy shit! Who were these people? Taking kids from their parents? Teaching people these horrible things about Magicks? How to kill them? How did…?

Her heart sank, an anchor plopping below the surface and continuing down, down, down.

Quickly, she took his phone to ask, How old were you when you learned all of this?

ERIC He gave a shrug, corners of his mouth pulling down into a brief frown as he tried to remember.

I’ve no idea. I can’t remember a time when I wasn't being told these things.

In the short time he and his father’d had together, he had told Eric all of these things. Alongside stories of their ancestors who had protected the innocent lives who lived near water or were trying to find safe passage across the ocean. It had hooked him, ensuring that Eric would want to be just like the brave heroes in the story, too. That he would want to live up to the name of Andersen properly, not just tote it around like a medal that he hadn’t earned for himself.

Then he had died, leaving behind the legacy in the form of journals and books that those before had written. Outlining their findings, how best to trap and kill their prey. (Now they were just a pile of ashes.) The Order had taken over from there— working to make himself into a Squire and moving on up the hierarchy from that starting point.

I didn’t start training on how to do anything properly until I was 14 though. Then when you’re 16 you actually get out into the world to do things.

GABRIELLA: He had been a child when all of this began. Raised from the beginning to believe a lie by adults he had no doubt trusted at the time. It was hard for her to believe the man he loved so dearly and who was as polite as Mr. Grimsby had been would have done such a thing, but what did she know?

Nothing clearly. There were people in this world who trained children to become reckless killers! Who thought the best way to go about their problem was to hop in a boat and lure it to them. They had also kidnapped a baby, probably to do the same with them! Anger surged in her chest and she wanted to ask who they were so she could go tear them apart for hurting the boy next to her, and all the others that had suffered by the hands they had lied to into thinking they were doing the right thing.

And yet, here he was, sitting right next to her like they were…not enemies. He had helped to get the trap from the lake, he had tried to tell her that he had gotten away from them. The only way he’d been able to was by running away, pretending he was dead. She shut her eyes, having to let all of this process without anything new entering her system, even something so simple as the images of the world around her.

ERIC The look on Gabriella’s face had him regretting telling her all of this— but he had to admit it felt good to have her know the truth, to finally be able to just tell her everything without worrying. He should have been doing it from the beginning but he couldn’t turn back time. It was what it was and he had to live with the mistakes he’d made.

He had missed her though— so desperately, he was willing to take this scrap, even if it was just out of pity. Maybe he would mind if she was willing to give more but right now? It was nice to be able to simply be in the same vicinity with her without a harsh glare on her face directed his way, and it was nice to be able to tell someone all this who wasn’t involved with the Order at all.

It wasn’t fair to her, though. They weren’t even friends anymore.

Eric gave a sigh, cringing at himself before his thumbs quickly tapped at the keyboard. Sorry. I don’t mean to upset you. I know I don’t deserve your company, let alone to be burdening you with all of this.

GABRIELLA: She didn’t even get to the end of reading his message before she snatched his phone from his hand, shaking her head.

You were just a kid, she typed, thinking of his cousin’s poor baby out there in the clutches of these people who had done this. I would do anything for my family. They mean everything to me. So how can I hate you for believing in yours? They’re supposed to be the people who protect you and love you, not turn you into a murderer.

ERIC I let you believe I was someone I wasn’t just because I wanted to know if what they said about mermaids was true.

GABRIELLA: I’m not angry at you for that. I spent so long thinking that Mundus and nonmerfolk were all the same. That they all thought merfolk were monsters or game to be hunted and sold for our parts. When you stopped your friends from killing me and looked at me like I wasn’t scary, I thought you different. So when you lied to me that broke my heart. I was angry at myself for allowing that to happen.

ERIC It’s not your fault that I let you down.

GABRIELLA: That’s the thing, I still believe you’re good. I believe that you’re trying to change.

ERIC Unsure how to respond to that, he merely looked at her and nodded, thankful.

He didn’t know what that meant for them, but he appreciated her honesty. It made his chest feel warm where it had only been growing colder and colder with one lost after the next. It gave him hope— if Gabriella, a mermaid, could forgive him, a mermaid hunter, then maybe there was a chance all that was going wrong could be corrected. They would get Tom’s baby back, they would turn the Order inside out, and he could convince Henry to finally abandon them to the ashes as they all fell down, leaving everyone that mattered left standing.

Gabriella was willing to understand other people and their situation, even when she had every single right to not even bother. The Order had been the opposite— there was no understanding of others. There was only one truth, and that was theirs. Now Eric knew what a great big lie that had been to get them to fall into submission instead.

That’s what he would tell her, he decided.

I think I need to be more like you to do that.

GABRIELLA: She worried as he waited to reply, wondering where she had gone wrong, and was eager to read when he finally started typing once more. Gabriella gave a face of bemusement, glancing between his face and the screen as if to make sure that she had seen him type that and he was being completely serious.

More like her? What?

Why would you want to do that? she replied, quickly giving him back the phone and crossing her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling very self conscious. She wasn’t trying to change for the better. In fact, it felt like she was regressing into some scary internet troll who hated everything and found no joy in life. Outlandish with her actions, having been emboldened by the anger and sadness that had consumed her.

ERIC You’re a good person. You’ve saved my life. Twice.  

GABRIELLA: I’m a mess, she replied, frustrated. Her lips pressed together and she gave a sharp breath from her nose. I think you’ve been holding onto the image of some fantasy from that first time around. I get angry, too. I’m not perfect at all. You should know that.

ERIC Eric’s brow furrowed a little— as if he didn’t already?

I do. I never said you were. I know you do, and I know you’re scared but try to pretend like you’re not. About your family and home, about your studies, your dance. I know you get overly defensive. That you get very frustrated when you’re late for anything, and that you think bubblegum is a suitable flavor for anything other than actual bubblegum. I know you’re not perfect, but that doesn’t make you any less kind and caring and someone I wish I was more like.

GABRIELLA: She tried not to watch him this time as he typed, and kept typing! It made her get nervous, both wanting and not wanting to know what he was explaining in the absolute wall of text his thumbs were laying out before them. Gabriella turned to look at the water and the forest across the way, the trees bending and swaying to the evening breeze.

Then he gave her the phone and she had to read it all. She blinked, looking up at him.

All this time she had believed him to think of her as his savior. As someone to be put upon a pedestal and thanked at any given moment for saving his life twice over, as if it wasn’t the right thing to do, as if she hadn’t been doing it partly for herself, for not wanting to think of herself as a murderer for sitting by idaly as a mundus drowned when she could have done something to stop it.

Turns out he had actually seen her as her. As Gabriella, just as she had always seen him as Eric.

Suddenly filled with affection and desire, a hand shot out to grab hold of the curls on the back of his neck and pull him toward her to press a kiss against his mouth.

ERIC Despite looking directly at her Eric had not seen that coming.

His eyebrows jumped up on his forehead as he was yanked forward, utterly unprepared for her lips on his, so much so that it probably made for a hard landing place rather than something that was supposed to be pleasant and soft. Confusion quickly turned into surprise which then melted away into Dear, god, yes.

He didn’t touch her (had to actively resist by letting the hand that had shot out to catch his weight dig his fingernails into the sandy dirt beneath and the other into his trousers) except for where she had initiated the contact— the kiss. Gabriella Marino was kissing him and he, after getting his wits together, was kissing her, too.

Eric couldn’t help what came over him, after all this time of waiting for her, of finding her, of getting to know her, of losing her all over again, only to now have her come back. He didn’t want to lose her ever again, not if she was willing to give him this, which he hadn’t even known was an option but was very on board with. He tilted his head to fix the angle, let her nose press into his cheek and deepen the kiss into something more, something he felt like he needed more than air at present.

GABRIELLA: It was supposed to be quick, especially after the initial feeling like she had just rammed her mouth into a wall, but after Eric responded with such gusto, she let it linger. Then went back for another and another before pulling away slowly. Her eyes opened, jumping back and forth between his own to survey his reaction.

That’s when she took notice of his hands, the way his body was angled away from her, like he was trying so hard not to crowd her or…make her feel trapped. It made her feel embarrassed considering she hadn’t even asked to do that! She had just reeled him in a planted one on him! Agh, had she misread this whole thing?

Surely, not, right? If he hadn’t wanted to kiss her then he wouldn’t have responded the way he had…right?

ERIC (Right!)  

When she pulled away he couldn’t help the absolute goofy smile that formed across his face, eyes flicking down to her lips and back up again.

He saw the uncertainty there and wanted nothing more than to smash it to bits, making sure that it could never come back when it came to his feelings about her. If only it was a tangible object for him to get his hands on.

Eric shifted, turning his body toward her now and allowing himself to sit up without the use of his arm like a kickstand— he raised it, holding it close to her face but not quite touching. He raised his eyebrows at her, first asking for permission.

GABRIELLA: His smile and unspoken question made her break out into a silent giggle, her hand falling away from the nape of his neck to take hold of his and press it against her cheek. Yes, her answer was yes. It always had been, probably always would be when it came to the likes of him. With a smile like that, it was kind of hard for it not to be.

They stayed like that for a while, her thumb swiping back and forth across his hand, happy to sit there with him with this newfound understanding. It had taken a while to get there but it had been worth it. She knew it would be, all this time waiting for him had to have been.

The sun had long set, casting the world into the blueish tint that came with the night, when she finally grabbed his phone. It had locked, so she had him type in the password so that she could type, We should go, it’s getting late. Can I see you tomorrow?

ERIC Now, given permission, he felt like he no longer had to hold back watching her with a fond look in his eye. (He had barely kept from doing so before, but ever since he had confessed he had tried to not look at her at all to keep from doing so.) He reluctantly let her hand when she made him unlock his phone, knowing she’d need the both of hers to type.

He nodded enthusiastically— then paused and shook his head, holding out his hand for the phone so he could tell her why. I’ve got to go to London tomorrow. To help find the baby. But I’ll text you and when I’ll be back soon. I promise.

As soon as Tom had his son safe and sound, then Eric wouldn’t have the lingering worry simmering in his guy. Things were all falling into place, they just needed the one last piece to find its way back home. It did not seem fair that Eric could be this happy and miserable all at the same time, but so was the human condition.

GABRIELLA: You better.

Gabriella stood, not wanting to keep him any longer, and helped Eric get to his feet. She smiled and leaned forward to kiss the corner of his mouth simply because she could now, after all the times of staring at that spot and wondering what it would be like. She didn’t have to wonder anymore. Their hands were still connected, she gave his a squeeze before stepping back, letting their arms reach full length until their fingers slipped just out of reach.

She waved and then started walking off into the water. When she was deep enough, she transformed into her tail and stripped her clothes off, annoyed that they would be wet but willing to deal with it in favor of the other option. She wadded them into a ball and tossed them back up toward him before diving, flukes slapping down on the surface to push her down into the water and away from shore.

ERIC The father she got the more he wished to pull her back in but knew he had to go, too. Tomorrow would be a big day and the following ones would no doubt be even larger. Grim was waiting on him. (If the missed calls were anything to go by, he was getting rather impatient.) There was much to be done yet before he could settle down and have time to enjoy this.

They had waited this long— what was one more day?

He smiled as he watched her wade deeper into the water. Apart of him wanted to follow. He remained in his spot, watching as her ball of wet clothes landed in front of him with a fwump. Shaking his head he dripped down to pick it up and carry it a ways away from the water’s edge, hopefully they’d be a bit drier when she’d come out later. He glanced back just in time to see her tail slip beneath the water’s surface and smiled to himself, letting the image linger in his mind for a moment, before carrying on into the night towards Grim’s.

#swallowed in the sea #gabriella marino

[maritimeericandersen]

Gadgets & Gizmos | Gabruceric

gabriella-marino​:

brucewhite​:​

Bruce started to get worried after a little while– he knew this boy was a Mundus, so he couldn’t be underwater that long. It honestly made more sense for himself or Gabriella to go disable the camera, but Bruce didn’t want to take any risks that would put either of them in danger. So he waited. Eric broke the surface for more air and then disappeared beneath the water again, and then he did it a few more times, and Bruce relaxed. Okay. So he knew what he was doing. 

When he produced the camera, Bruce raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow. Good work!” he said, a newfound respect in his tone. He still didn’t really understand why Eric seemed to want to help them so badly, enough to put himself at risk– but Bruce believed that actions spoke louder than words, and disabling the camera himself was certainly an action that spoke loudly.

Maybe he could trust that this Mundus had a change of heart after all.

“I suppose this is the part where we come in, then?” Bruce added, signing to Gabriella in Mermish, too. “No offense, but if you had a bit of… a hard time getting the camera out, I don’t think you ought to try and get the trap out yourself.”

@gabriella-marino​ @maritimeericandersen​

Gabriella watched, trying to keep her annoyed and unimpressed demeanor solid now that Eric had rejoined them. Even if she felt the tug to move forward and help him up the beach. He looked like a wet dog, only way more pathetic as he laid out on the ground. It was weirdly endearing and she hated that her brain could still think that about him. That it could still think anything good about him. 

But the truth of the matter was that he still seemed like the guy she had grown to care about. Headstrong and earnest. He hadn’t suddenly turned into the person he had been, wielding weapons or bringing an army of poachers to her door. He was helping, even though he didn’t have to and even though this was his friend’s contraption. 

“Wait,” she signed to Bruce, pulling her attention away from Eric. “He could see you if we just leave him up here. We can tell him to hit the road and take care of the rest on our own.

@maritimeericandersen​ @brucewhite​

Eric hauled himself back up and onto his feet, feeling ten times heavier due to the water— and because he was bloody exhausted. There. He’d admit it. He wasn’t in the best of shape, having to limp about for the better part of a year could do that to anyone. 

He tossed the camera off toward his bag, uncaring that it made concerning crunching noises as it landed. (After all, his plans were to take a hammer or rock to the thing until it was unrecognizable debris.) 

“Oi! Hurtful.” Eric smiled at the bloke, to show he was just joking. Then he wondered if he should be joking in this sort of situation. He glanced at Gabriella, feeling stupid, and cleared his throat. “No, I— I’d like to help if I can. This is my mess. I don’t want you two to have to clean it all up. I brought rope and a hook! I figured I could tie it ‘round a tree and try pulling it out? Think I’d be helpful that way? Give you an extra pair of hand even if I’m not down there.” 

He glanced between the two of them, hopeful. 

@brucewhite​ @gabriella-marino​

#gadgets & gizmos #brucewhite #gabriella marino

[maritimeericandersen]

Gadgets & Gizmos | Gabruceric

gabriella-marino​:

brucewhite​:​

Bruce stared at the ripple in the water where Eric had dove in. Wait– he was actually doing, it, then? Bruce hadn’t been so sure. He had expected him to make an excuse, maybe insist Gabriella or Bruce go down there. 

Suddenly, Bruce felt a wave of embarrassment. After all that suspicion and distrust, Eric had been on their side all along. He was proving it by jumping in the water, putting himself in the exact position he had been in when Bruce had hurt him last summer.

(Not that he knew it was Bruce… or did he? Would he still be trying to help them if he did know? Was it dishonest not to tell him, at this point? Or was it the smart, safe thing to do?)

He’s… actually doing it, Bruce signed to Gabriella, surprised. I’m sorry I doubted him, I just… after everything, I didn’t want to put us in a dangerous position. 

@gabriella-marino​ @maritimeericandersen​

Gabriella’s thoughts were pretty much the same as Bruce’s, her gaze fixed on the same place as his after watching Eric take off like this was all very normal. He had a way of doing that, making any given situation seem like it was fine to him, like he had done it several times over even if he had no idea what was going on. Confidence or stupidity? It was both when it came to Eric Andersen. 

She blinked, turning to face Bruce fully when he began signing. Gabriella shook her head. 

No, I don’t blame you. After everything he told me? I don’t trust him fully, either. He’s just… her hands lingered in the air. Gabriella turned to look at the water again. She shrugged. I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. So long as he gets the camera disabled we can get that thing out of the water and be done with this whole thing. 

@maritimeericandersen​ @brucewhite​

It took longer than he would have liked to admit, but, eventually, Eric did come dragging himself back up to the beach. He was a little more off to the side than where he had left Gabriella and her friend (he really should have asked for the bloke’s name by now), but didn’t care as he flopped down on his back. He was breathing heavily, both from the physical exertion and having to go up and down for air every few minutes while trying to work. 

Finding the bloody thing had been half the battle. Then, every time he felt like he was getting it, his lungs would scream and he would have to kick himself back to the surface, starting all over again. 

He sat up, peering around for the two of them. Once he laid eyes on them, back where he had left them, Eric held up the consolation prize of the evening— the camera itself. All that was left to claim was the big thing itself. 

@brucewhite​ @gabriella-marino​

#gadgets & gizmos #brucewhite #gabriella marino

[maritimeericandersen]

Crime Wave || Eilonwy + Eric

eilonwy-notjustgirl​:

While Eric checked in his bag, Eilonwy started talking. If there was one thing she could do when she put her mind to it, it was talk. 

“That’s all right, we understand being curious since we’re curious people too. That’s why we’re in school.” She tried to smile forgivingly at the two young ones so hopefully they would stop apologizing. 

“See, our Professor is a very wise man who wants to make sure we learn a lot about how to help the environment and live well in it since that’s not something humans have always been good at, but it’s something we care a lot about.” She gestured to both Eric and herself as her thoughts continued to spin faster. 

She could see that the trolls were about to erupt into speech again so she rushed to continue. “However, if we’re to get it done, we need to go right now, and -”

“Oh but you have to let us feed you before you go!” “You came so far it’s really only fair.” “Food is important to make the brain work well.”

Ok, apparently talking wasn’t enough this time around. So, magic instead. 

Looping her bag over her shoulder, she grabbed his hand and stepped in close. Luckily this place was sunny. With a swirl of her hand, she wrapped the both of them in a sphere of sunlight and pushed it out gently, watching as the closest trolls backed up. 

She could hear the trolls start to make some kind fo exclamation, but she gave Eric’s hand a squeeze. “Stay close and run!” she muttered urgently. 

Eric had sort of given up on getting out of there after they offered food because to him, that indicated the end of the conversation. He was sort of hungry, figured he wouldn’t mind eating even if it would mean getting caught up here for a few hours— then again, what did rocks eat? Or, sorry, rock trolls. He couldn’t imagine anything actually very good and that only made him that much more sad as he resigned himself to listening to the trolls and eating dirt for the night. 

Then Eilonwy was grabbing his hand and pulling him out of that fog. His brow furrowed, eyes finding her in an instant only to have to squint against the light that suddenly engulfed them. What the—? 

Run, she said and, oh. Alright then! Eric could do that. He gripped her hand back and turned tail, making a line for the way they had come in since it wasn’t too steep like seemingly all the other ways. (Funny how that worked.) There was a lot of chatter going on behind them, some in awe of the light, others concerned as to where they were going. 

His leg twinged a bit, it having been going all day now and getting some extra over time put in now, but he ignored it in favor of getting up the slope of rock and dirt to get back to the lush greens and brown of the forest. 

#crime wave #eilonwy notjustgirl

[maritimeericandersen]

It’s A Hard Bump Life || Danny + Eric

darling-lost-boy​:

Danny snorted. “Don’t you read the news?”

To be fair, Eric probably didn’t. Actually, Danny more or less knew that he didn’t. But people on their floor had talked. Everyone in the school had talked. When John had gone missing. When Wendy had shown up. None of it was exactly…a secret. At least, not this part of it. (Danny was still thinking about Christmas. Thinking about how Wendy and Jane had–) 

“My cousin went missing here,” Danny said. My cousin went to the fae realm and he’s still stuck there and my other cousin was stuck there for years and is only just now back.

He looked off into the middle distance for a moment. Danny tried not to think about John too much. It wasn’t his tragedy. Not really. Danny didn’t really know John. The memories of him were fuzzy at best. Danny remembered John one of two ways: from his Instagram, still smiles and blurry silhouettes–or always running away, he and Jane on their adventures, leaving him behind…

“Mum thought it was more dangerous than trapezing around other countries.” He turned back to Eric and shrugged, smiled a little.

Yeah, no, Eric didn’t. Ever since he’d gone into hiding and deleted all social media from his phone (to keep from temptation) he had felt way better and just hadn’t gotten back on. No more having to read about other people’s weird opinions against his will, imagine that. Though that wasn’t necessarily the news. That seemed more like an adult thing to do— which he supposed he was now, and probably should start. 

“Oh. Geez, mate, I’m so sorry.” Cousins, cousins, cousins. It was always cousins that were causing trouble, wasn’t it? Tom with his worrying and Danny’s with their— disappearing acts. It all made sense now. 

Except, people went disappearing in other countries, too. Hadn’t she ever seen Taken? Eric didn’t say this, though, feeling like it wouldn’t be very helpful after that absolute bomb of information. 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, and I’m sure it is— I’m very glad you decided to come here instead of elsewhere, so that I could meet you.” Now that Danny was in Eric’s life, he couldn’t imagine it without him. What would have happened had he not come across Eric that day on the stairs? Or joined volleyball? Didn’t matter, didn’t need to think about it, because he had. “Tell your mum that she doesn’t have to worry about you disappearing, too, cause that’s not going to happen on my watch, alright?” 

#it's a hard bump life #darling lost boy

[maritimeericandersen]

Gadgets & Gizmos | Gabruceric

gabriella-marino​:

brucewhite​:​

Bruce nodded. He didn’t like the idea of being scary… but he was always on his guard with Eric. He wanted him to know that Bruce took it all very seriously, trying to prevent Gabriella from falling into harm’s way again. So if scary was what he had to be, then fine. 

“Fine then,” Bruce said simply, signing as he spoke so Gabriella could follow. “We’re not going to go down there, then. You’re going to go down there and disable that camera, and if you try any tricks…” He glanced at Gabriella. “Well, I wouldn’t, if I were you.” He crossed his arms when he finished speaking, but was ready to interpret if Gabriella wanted to chime in.

@maritimeericandersen​ @gabriella-marino​

Gabriella caught Bruce’s eye in that brief moment before he finished his sentence and hoped her face looked encouraging. She watched his hands and gave a firm nod, even folding her arms over her chest to mirror him, too. Solidarity. 

Even though she knew there wasn’t really anything they could do to Eric. She wouldn’t have wanted to anyway. It’s the reason she had simply left that night. After all he had done and admitted to, she still didn’t want to see him hurt. 

But he didn’t know that and hopefully wouldn’t call their empty bluff. If he was here to help, like he said and like she believed, then he would do it anyway. 

@maritimeericandersen​ @brucewhite​

Eric held up his hands to show his surrender. He didn’t know that Gabriella’s friend didn’t have anything behind the threat and figured it best not to piss her or him off anymore than he already had. Not that he had any intention of double crossing them— the whole point of him being here was to fix what had wronged them in the first place. 

He gave a nod and began to toss his stuff to the ground. His bag slumped to the ground off his shoulders, inside was a change of clothing, his phone, wallet, and a plastic bag for his clothes that he was wearing now— which was just a t-shirt and old shorts. It would have been a bathing suit but he hadn’t been able to find his (he’d had no use for it while his leg had been in a cast and in the winter) and couldn’t be bothered to look around for it any longer. 

Then, off he went into the water. He wasn’t really sure what he was doing or how he was going to do it, just that he wouldn’t stop until he did. 

@brucewhite​ @gabriella-marino​

#gadgets & gizmos #brucewhite #gabriella marino

[maritimeericandersen]

The Landslide Brought Me Down ~~ [Theric]

prince--thomas​:

Tom crossed his arms and sighed out of his nose at the punch drunk smile that Eric gave him when he caught sight of him. He shook his head and glanced around, even if there was nothing but curtain to see. Tom had half a mind to go marching back out into the A&E until he found a doctor he was marginally familiar with and forced them to take a look at his baby cousin.

But, Tom was also a first responder and knew how all of this worked. He knew that Eric’s assessment of the situation was probably correct. While head injuries were serious, he wasn’t exhibiting signs of any major issues. Someone would be along to roll him into an MRI soon enough. They just had to–wait until then.

So, instead, Tom figured he’d use this time to lecture his cousin. What else was there to do?

“You gotta be more careful, Anderson,” Tom tsked. “It’s been what? Not even nine months since you bloody got attacked in the lake? One could think you have some sort of death wish. And I would prefer it if you dinnae, aye? Donnae have many cousins left these days. Least not any that’ll talk to me.” Tom didn’t know how to say: you’re important to me. I don’t know what I’d do without you. He’d never been taught.

“Next time ye hurt yourself, I’ll kill ye meself.”

“In my defense, I didn’t go looking for this one, it found me.” 

Eric had not been taught how to say these things either— Grim had always been too posh for that sort of thing. His back straightened, shoulders square. He’d loosened up the older Eric got (the more Eric had worn him down, more like) but he had never passed on the way of how to speak about ones feelings out in the open very freely. It was all polite and very formal. 

The language Tom was speaking now, Eric understood very well. He knew what Tom was trying to say, knew that they weren’t supposed to outright because that would be— weak? Was that how it had been framed for all those years? Probably. To care was to have a fault. A crack in the chest meant there had been something wrong with you and they sent you off for repairs. 

Here in Swynlake, Eric had learned another language. It was soft and delicate— that did not make it weak. He knew Tom might not understand him right now but Eric figured he could start teaching him. 

“And I love you, too, Tom.” His smile softened, skin growing a bit warm. (He may have learned how to say it but that didn’t mean it was easy as it was still new.) “Thanks for coming to get me.” 

#the landslide brought me down #prince thomas

[maritimeericandersen]

Stay Close || Tom + Eric

After someone comes knocking on Eric’s door from the Order, he goes to his cousin to help him decide on how best to move forward. 

[TW: brief mentions of alcohol]

@prince--thomas

ERIC

The urge to leave through the door as soon as it had slammed shut had been squashed down. It was just an impulse, watching through the peephole until the bloke disappeared down the hallway, thinking that was when it would be safe to leave. It wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. Though, did it really matter? When they knew he was alive? When they knew where he was staying? Probably not— but still. He forced himself away from the door and into his room to wait for an hour. 

When that timer was up, he left. Around the block, he circled a few times to be sure he wasn’t being followed and then made his way across Swynlake (taking the long way around) until he reached the residential neighborhood across from the schools. Soon enough he was standing on Tom and his friends’ front porch, knocking. The cadence of it betraying how shaken up he was about this whole thing, knuckles hitting a bit too hard. 

He swallowed and stepped away when no one opened the door immediately (as if anyone would be just on the other side of theirs, waiting for this sort of thing) head looking back and forth, wondering what to do if Tom wasn’t home. Call. He should have called. Why didn’t he think of that? 

If he wasn’t here maybe he was working? Could Eric go to the fire station and request to see him or would he have to drop off the side of a cliff again to—? 

The sound of the door opening behind him had him whirling around, hands flying up and then hitting back down against his thighs, weight pulling back on his heels. “Thank the lord for that! I thought I was going to have to go on a wild goose chase looking for you!”

Eric took a step forward, his nerves crowding back in as the humor died away as he remembered why he had been so keen on seeing his cousin. His hands wrung together as he let out a breath. “Can I uh— are you busy? Can I talk to you?” 

THOMAS:

Tom had been out on the back porch of the house, working on sanding down a few beams that were going to be part of  his bairn’s crib. He wouldn’t have heard the knocking if it wasn’t for Gilly and Fly causing a ruckus. He figured someone must be at the door and pulled off his gloves, running a hand through his sweaty curls as he crossed through the house, leaving the back door open. He had no idea who it was, so he walked in a clipped stride. 

There was a possibility it was Ting-Ting or one of the wee ones, worried about something or needing a hand with something. Or it could be one of the ladies from across the street, come to tell him Aurora had passed out again. 

That wasn’t who it was at all. It was Eric.

Tom blinked and then smiled, his shoulders relaxing as he glanced up and down to make sure his cousin wasn’t hurt and then relieved when that wasn’t the case. He chuckled lightly at Eric’s theatrics. “Well, ya know I’m usually either here or at the fire station.” 

He stepped back, opening the door wider so Eric could enter the house and get attacked by the pups. 

“I’m not busy. Just workin’ on the crib.” He gestured towards the back door and then started heading that way. “You want a beer?” It felt funny to ask Eric that. Last time he saw him, he hadn’t been old enough to drink. (Not that that had ever stopped Tom, he’d been there for Eric’s first beer, after all.) 

ERIC

Eric followed after Tom, making sure to shut the door as he went. He couldn’t help the little smile that stretched his mouth as the dogs greeted him, wet noses swiping across his palms as he tried to reach down to pet them. 

It felt funny for Eric, too, to be offered a beer— more because this didn’t feel like a beer situation. Since, at this moment in his life, alcohol was reserved for moments in his life that had fun in them. It was for parties, big or small, and celebrations and clubs, where it would help to tune out the stress of the everyday. He didn’t think a beer could tune any of the stress that was now wallowing around inside of him. 

“No, thank you.”  Maybe he should have taken it to help take off the anxious edge, but he figured the conversation was going to keep him sober no matter how much he drank— or, at least, it wouldn’t feel very good to be drunk and miserable over this whole thing. 

Guilt sat cold and heavy in the bottom of his stomach, knowing he was about to burden Tom with this, too. When he had gotten out, when he was getting ready for his baby to be born. What was he doing pulling him right back in? 

He just didn’t want to keep this from him or have any more lies, even by omission, making him feel disconnected from his cousin. Not when it felt like they had only just returned to the same page. 

“They found me.” It came falling out of his mouth before he could even think about it and, well, best not to bury the lead, right? “The Order. They just showed up at my door not half an hour ago saying I need to— go before the King.” 

THOMAS:

Eric denied the drink. Tom wasn’t surprised. It was early-ish in the afternoon. He probably shouldn’t be having a beer, but his schedule was all kinds of fucked and, with Levi’s due date just over a week away, his nerves made him feel like he was going to explode. The beer took the edge off when he wasn’t able to distract himself at work. 

They made their way out onto the porch. Tom reached over to take a swing from his half-finished beer before kneeling down in front of the crib and going back to sanding. 

He only got a few strokes in before he stopped and turned toward Eric sharply enough that he felt the ligament in his knee protest and he winced before he hissed: “What? What do you mean? Who was it that came?” 

The Order’s presence made Tom’s skin crawl. He was already paranoid enough with Eloise sniffing around Annie. He was going out of his mind with paranoia. Feeling like the Order was hiding behind every bush, ready to jump out and snatch Levi as soon as he was born. 

“What did you say?” Tom stood back up and looked hard at his little cousin. “I need you to tell me exactly what was said.” 

ERIC

He shrugged, head giving a minute shake. That wasn’t going to help any. Tom wanted answers and yet Eric knew he could only give him so much clarity. That was why he had come here, in the hope that Tom could give that to him, not the other way around. 

“I don’t know. I don’t know who it was, I’d never seen him before.” Or he had and enough time had passed in between since they’d last interacted and Eric just hadn’t recognized him. Maybe he just hadn’t bothered to remember. The Order had been like that a lot of the time. Everyone always seemed to know him despite Eric not knowing who the hell they were. It was always the I haven’t seen you since you were a baby! and I knew your parents. They were good people, such a shame. He would shake their hand and nod his head in agreement, like he knew what was going on and then forget all about it until the next time everyone was gathered together and he was left trying to remember who was who all over again. 

“He said that they knew everything, got the whole story, and that I had broken all sorts of rules.” Eric rolled his eyes then. Yeah, no shit. That had rather been the whole bloody point. “He said that I needed to go before the King to answer for my actions and that they would be expecting me. I didn’t say anything— didn’t really get the chance to before he spun around and left.” 

THOMAS:

Tom wanted to snap at Eric not to roll his eyes. This was serious. Very serious. If the King wanted him, if the King knew that Eric was in Swynlake…he was trying to get him out. Probably to take Tom’s seat at Lindisfarne. Or worse. They wanted to get him out of Swynlake so that Tom couldn’t protect him. So the Golden Trio couldn’t protect him. Maybe they weren’t in the Order any more, but they still had their skills. They still knew all of the Order’s tricks. They had come up with plenty of them themselves. 

It was bait. It was a test. 

If Eric didn’t go, he’d be branded a traitor, a liability, a loose end. The Order hated all of those things, but they hated loose ends the most. It made them insecure. Once upon a time, Tom had believed this was because they wanted to be thorough and that operating in secret protected them, but now, he knew better. Loose ends meant that people had learned the truth of what the Order was and spreading that truth would undo the Order from the inside out.

And, unlike Tom, John, and Phil--they had nothing to leverage against Eric. His only family was Grim, who was in Swynlake too, far out of their reach. Which meant that, in their eyes, Eric was dangerous. 

To the Order, that was never a good thing to be. 

“Did they give you a date? Did they tell you when?” 

ERIC

“As soon as possible. No later than two weeks.” This he had remembered because he had found that to be a strange sort of deadline. Two weeks, the man had told him, raising his hand to show Eric his middle and forefinger, a mockery of a peace sign.

A part of Eric actually wanted to go— he wanted to stroll in, hear what they all had to say, tell them all to fuck off, and walk back out. Of course, he knew that wasn’t a viable option if he actually wanted to walk out of there. It was that need to show them that they were wrong and people were catching on to that now, getting out of their clutches one by one until they would have no one left on their side of the board. 

Only it wasn’t such a pressing need. Back in the day, before Swynlake and the shipwreck and everything, he wouldn’t have hesitated to do something like that. He would have asked the messenger fellow for a lift to go see the King that very afternoon, pride and arrogance leading his way. He would have wanted to prove himself to them, and would have felt like he had to. Now, though, he didn’t. Their opinions meant nothing to him— less than nothing, even. There was not a word they could say that would bother him, good or bad alike. They were irrelevant. They were nothing. Absolutely nothing to all he had now. 

Words were one thing, though. Action was another. Consequences. If the Order knew he was here then they may come to get him when he didn’t show.

“What should I do?” 

THOMAS:

Tom didn’t know the answer to that question.

He suddenly felt very young. Twenty years old, when his sister’s husband had hung himself and left her and her children with a tarnished reputation and full of grief, looking to Tom, asking him what to do. He felt fifteen, sixteen again--taking Eric out on a boat for the first time to show him the ropes. Eric cuttin’ his hand and starting to cry, looking to Tom like he was gonna be able to do something about it. He felt twelve years old, his father dying and everyone treating him like suddenly he was in charge of everything. Of what to plant in the fields, of which horses to breed, of who could marry his sisters…

Just like all those other times: “I dunnae kin” simply wouldn’t be good enough. 

Maybe Tom shouldn’t feel like this anymore when someone needed something from him. After all, he had enough practice, didn’t he? That didn’t stop the doubt from crawling into his heart and taking roost. 

“You dunnae do anything,” Tom told him after a long moment, he reached out and put his hands on his cousin’s shoulders, so the boy would look him in the eyes.. “Whatever they want, it is nothing good.” That, at least, Tom was sure of. 

“You stay right here. And we’ll protect you. I’ll protect you.” 

ERIC 

Eric did. Look Tom in the eyes. The grounding weight of his hands on Eric’s shoulders keeping him tethered there. So long as he did nothing to mess with the line, clipping it or getting it tangled unnecessarily, it would be there to haul him back from wherever he may be pulled away to.

He knew he was, for better or for worse, an adult now— he should have been able to figure this out on his own. That’s what he had been so gung ho about all this time. Being on his own and getting to make his own choices for the first time. Being free. Yet here he was, having run off to cry into his older cousin’s shirt about the big bad monster coming to get him. It made him feel weak and more so, it made him feel guilty for burdening Tom with it. 

He had left the Order, too. He deserved peace and quiet and to get to spend an afternoon in the sun, getting prepared for his child to be born. 

It had been more about knowing they were on the same page, he supposed. That Tom really had gotten their claws out from under his skin, and that he was on Eric’s side. As shameful as that was to think, he had to know. (After what had happened with Henry, he wasn’t going to make the same mistake of allowing love to blind him to the Order’s ways.) Tom had passed. Tom had more than passed, he had assured him that he would be there no matter what happened. 

“That I can do.” Eric smiled and bowed his head. He blew out a breath, tension leaving him. “And in the meantime? Think I should take a holiday over the summer?” 

THOMAS:

Tom felt as Eric’s shoulders dropped beneath his hands. He gave them another squeeze before letting go and standing up a little straighter himself. He felt unsettled, but he knew he couldn’t show that. It wasn’t good for anyone. Eric was looking for something from him…Tom didn’t know what (it didn’t occur to him that Eric might be testing him, because since he had left the Order, it had not occurred to him to look back—he was loyal to the bone and would stand with his brothers, and keep his son out of the Order’s clutches if it meant dying for it), but he knew he should remain grounded and calm. 

“Maybe,” Tom nodded and then ran a hand through his hair. 

“I dunnae kin. I dunnae like the idea of running. Maybe you should stay with us? The Order is daft, but they’re not daft enough to try to take us all on in a fight. There is a reason they tried to keep quiet that we’d left. We were their best warriors. John is one of the best strategizers of our generation. They won’t try to engage us outright. We dunnae have an extra room for you, but the couch innit bad. Just til the two weeks is out and you don’t show up? Then we can see what their next move is and plan accordingly.”

Of course, just two weeks was running right up on Levi’s due date, but they could figure all of that out. The baby would be mostly at Annie’s anyway. 

ERIC

It had mostly been a joke, but he had also figured, why not? Why not get away for a short time just to breathe a little easier? He missed the ocean for the first time in what felt like forever. There would be no reason to fear being followed out there— the best sailor the Order had was standing right in front of him, and Eric had learned from the best. The only thing that could get him was the sea herself. 

Running had lasted Eric this long but that was probably because the Order hadn’t known. They thought he was dead, and dead boys didn’t run. They sank, along with all their secrets. 

“That’s alright. I don’t think that’ll be necessary.” He cast a look about them, eyeing the crib, thoughts mirroring Tom’s. There was already so much going on, so many lives in this house and Eric didn’t want to be anymore of a burden than he already was with this news. Tom had a baby on the way! He should have been worrying about that, not his stupid cousin and his decision catching up with him. “If they wanted to come after me, they’d have done it from the get. Now they haven’t got the element of surprise. It’s like— I dunno, like they wanted us to know they’re watching.” 

Like some sort of warning shot? The corner’s of his mouth pulled down, shoulders lifting and falling in a brief shrug. “I’ll be fine— promise. You’re just across town. I won’t get that far even if something does happen. Which it won’t.” 

THOMAS:

Eric’s logic made sense, but Tom still wanted to protest. He wanted to hold onto Eric and not let go. Tom did not have much from his old life. The Order had taken it all. There wasn’t much he wanted, to be fair, but he did want his family. He missed his family. Even Merida hated him and his aunt was stuck between them, but would choose her daughter over him. Phil and John were his brothers, of course, but he missed his sisters. He missed his mother. Especially now that he was about to become a father. There were so many things he wanted to ask her. He wanted to put his head in her lap and listen to her hum her Gaelic songs and stroke his curls, like she’d done for him since he was a little boy. 

There wasn’t any of that. 

But there was a boy with the same curls as him and the same blood. He was Tom’s family and Tom wouldn’t let the Order have him too. Looking at Eric was like looking at his own boyhood. Days spent out at sea, the salt spray in their faces, the sun warm on their backs. Days that Tom missed unless Eric was standing here in front of him. 

But the boy standing in front of him had also grown into a young man. Still not very serious, but bright and determined. Tom could see it in his face, it was the same expression he gave when trying to tie a very difficult knot. Determined. Bright. 

“Yer sure?” Tom asked, still looking him in the eye, searching his gaze. “We have the room. It wonnae be any trouble to have ye.”

ERIC

There was a piece of him, that part that was still the orphaned child who was too scared of being left behind by anyone else, that wanted to stay. Tom wanted him to stay— was asking him for a second time. Why shouldn’t he? He wasn’t much of a fight on his own, the only exercise he got these days was from volleyball, walking Max, and the occasional trip to the gym with Ollie for boxing. His leg still wasn’t where it had been! Maybe he should stay, surrounded by the once three most prized possessions of the Order who worked together to create the perfect unit. 

Eric scrunched up his nose and shook his head. “Nah— I’ll be fine. Thanks, though. I appreciate it.”

It would be ridiculous to. There was no reason. He had a flatmate, the Order wouldn’t snatch him in the middle of the night with a witness. (Probably.) 

“Like I said, it’s probably just them letting me know that they know. You know?” He smiled, teeth showing. Now that he wasn’t the only one who knew, secrets so unwound that they were truths now, he felt less afraid than he had on the walk over here. Alone, he wasn’t much, but knowing Tom was with him after the loss of Henry, he felt he could be. 

“I’ll check in, I promise, yeah? Don’t worry— you’ll be doing enough of that soon.” Eric gestured to the crib now, making it obvious what he meant. 

THOMAS:

Tom wasn’t as sure as Eric that it would be as simple as that. The Order didn’t like to lose. That was why they were coming after his son. It was the reason he was as paranoid as he was. 

He tried to breathe through that paranoia now. It was true. The Order wouldn’t risk exposing themselves with some stupid move, such as trying to take Eric. At least, Tom thought not. Unless they were getting desperate. But, it was a more or less empty threat. Their power over someone like Eric, like the Golden Trio, was waning every day. Why should Eric respond to a summons like he was some dog that would come when called?

No. They were done with all of that. They were their own men now. Eric was his own man now. He stood tall and he smiled and Tom felt proud of him. He’d only had a small hand in Eric’s life, and he certainly couldn’t take credit for the courage it had taken Eric to leave the Order before any of them, but he was proud anyway. 

He glanced over his shoulder when Eric nodded at the crib and snorted through his nose. When he looked back, he reached out to ruffle Eric’s hair. 

“I’m always gunnae worry,” Tom said. “That’s what I am here for. And the way you go about things, the more people to worry, the better.” He softened then, just slightly, in the corner of his eyes. “Just—don't do anything rash and if anything strange happens you tell me, John, Phil, or Merida at once.”

He ran a hand through his hair and down over his beard. “Now, make yourself useful and give me a hand since you’re here, eh?” Reaching out again he cuffed Eric gently on the side of the head before turning back to the crib. 

ERIC

Eric rolled his eyes but his smile of fond amusement stayed present— he supposed it was better to have someone there worrying rather than no one at all. It meant Tom cared and that, by some miracle, Eric had managed to write him out of his life forever. (Though he had every right to that decision, just as Grim had.) Even against the very thing that they had once thought was all they stood for. Now here they were, standing against it, together. 

That, at the end of the day, made everything about the Order so much less. As long as he knew someone had his back, especially his cousin, then he knew everything would be fine. They were stronger together than they ever were apart. Obviously these people were desperate to get someone back on their side if they were scraping the bottom of the barrel for the kid who’d gone and faked his death, giving up his weapon for an apron at the local grocery store. 

He appreciated these small touches of affection, moving his head off to the side jovially as if Tom had shoved at him with force. So long had he thought those sorts of things were ridiculous and babyish— now he didn’t care, had learned that life was too short to not express what was going on inside. It was why he reached back out and gave Tom a clap on the back. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, alright— least you’ve got someone competent here now so that this thing doesn’t blow over at the next breeze.” Eric ducked out of the way in anticipation, thoughts of the Order put behind him. 

#stay close #prince thomas

[maritimeericandersen]

Gadgets & Gizmos | Gabruceric

gabriella-marino​:

brucewhite​:​

Eric was right. That was his and Gabriella’s plan: to go into the lake and fish out the trap, so that no merperson would ever encounter it again. But how did Eric know all that? Had Gabriella told him? Had he been following them more closely than Bruce thought? Or… perhaps it was simply that obvious. It hadn’t been very long since that confrontation with Eric at Whosits and Whatsits. It wasn’t such a far-fetched thing to deduce.

Even if Eric seemed to want to help them, Bruce was still on the defensive. He didn’t entirely trust him. He turned to Gabriella and explained what Eric had said to her in Mermish, adding, “What do you think? Should we listen to him?” And then he waited, ready to relay her response to Eric if she wanted. Because even if Bruce was hesitant, if Gabriella thought he might be telling the truth, he wouldn’t question it. Because that would mean Eric was trying to help them. To Bruce, actions mattered far more than words. And this would certainly be an action that proved something, if Eric saved them from being discovered by Charming.

@gabriella-marino​ @maritimeericandersen​

Gabriella’s rage turned into confusion and then open surprise, her eyes sliding from Bruce to Eric to try and decide on how best to answer that question. 

Did they listen to him?

It was hard because…for all Eric had done to their kind, he had done nothing but tell her the truth. Yes, he had withheld it from her for a long time, but he had eventually confessed. She didn’t want to feel like a stupid little girl anymore, though, trusting the Mundus because he happened to say something that might be noteworthy. 

If he was right, though, they’d be putting themselves in danger. Bruce especially. 

“I don’t want to risk it, if he is telling the truth,” she replied eventually, turning to look back up at Bruce. “Tell him that he is going to go in there and disable that thing, and if he tried anything that we’ll…I don’t know what we could do. You don’t have to be specific, that’s probably scarier anyway.” 

@maritimeericandersen​ @brucewhite​

Eric watched as the two of them communicated, cursing himself for not putting in the work to actually learn sign (as he had no idea this was Mermish instead of the BSL she usually used) and being left out of the conversation. Again. At least this time he was standing, not sitting in a little room in an uncomfortable chair to match the uncomfortable situation. 

He ached to talk to her, to even so much as look at her without feeling like he was somehow violating her wishes. He probably already was just by being there, wasn’t he? She could see him. He was going to make her work with him if they decided to believe him about the camera. Not that he was going to give them much choice about that, since if they decided to not believe him—

Well. He didn’t know what he’d do, but he wouldn’t let them go in the water. 

@brucewhite​ @gabriella-marino​

#gadgets & gizmos #gabriella marino #brucewhite

[maritimeericandersen]

It’s A Hard Bump Life || Danny + Eric

darling-lost-boy​:

Danny blushed and then laughed a bit at the finger wagging. He did feel bad about it but…he almost felt more bad for not having told his friend of over a year that he had been lying to his mum this whole time. It just…hadn’t ever come up? How was it supposed to? Lying was easier when you just never had to mention the lie or act on it in any way.

“Yeah, Easter Europe. Traveling around. My–sister did that, after she graduated high school before going to college. So, I figured it wouldn’t sound suspicious if I did it too…even though I…er, am not adventurous. Not like Jane.” He chuckled a little and shrugged his shoulders.

It sounded silly explaining it to someone. He hadn’t had to do that yet. Wendy didn’t know anything about his family dynamics. Jane was too clued in to the dynamics. John was gone. Michael figured it out as they went along. It wasn’t something he’d even talked about much with Anna, even though she kind of knew the basics.

“She did find out, though, over Christmas. I am not a good liar.” He chuckled sheepishly again. “I think she’ll, er…get over it. Honestly, I think she’s just happy Jane didn’t let me starve or fall off a cliff or something.”

Eric wasn’t a very good liar either— not because he didn’t know how (the Order had made sure of that) but because he hated to do it. It never felt right. And to lie to Grim? Or even asking Grim to lie for him? That seemed like such an impossibility that Eric had decided not to do it altogether. Instead he had allowed everyone to believe he was a goner and thought it better to ask for forgiveness than permission. 

He smiled, nodding before blinking in realization that he had, in fact, fallen off a cliff or something. That didn’t rightfully count though, since Grim had been here when that happened. Tom, too. So, it sort of spoke to Eric’s argument— it didn’t matter where someone was, accidents were bound to happen one way or another! 

“Yeah, that’s how Grim was— happy I was alive and kicking.” (Mostly because he had thought the opposite to be the case!) “You don’t have to answer this, I’m only curious, but um, why didn’t you want her to know you were here? If your sister and cousins are here, was it really such a bad thing you’d come here instead of going off on your own to trapeze around other countries?” 

Or had his mum just wanted him to be this adventurous person that Danny said he wasn’t, instead of someone who stuck close to his family. 

#it's a hard bump life #darling lost boy

[maritimeericandersen]

Crime Wave || Eilonwy + Eric

eilonwy-notjustgirl​:

Eilonwy caught Eric’s expression, but she wasn’t quite sure what he was trying to say. They should go? They should fight out? They should stay for food and stories but he wanted her to talk more than him? She didn’t know him well enough to feel like she could translate it with any confidence. 

Better to wait and see what the stone figures wanted and if they were any danger before putting them at risk. There were more of them than there were of her and Eric after all. 

“That’s very kind of you to offer to help, but it’s a project we should really do on our own. We’re both students at PrideU and we’re supposed to be researching the life and health of that stream we were by before.” She wasn’t sure she quite hit the ‘life or death’ tone that Eric had mentioned before. 

But then they came up next to the two younger ones who were holding up their bags, and Eilonwy quickly bent down to grab both, handing Eric’s over to him while looping her own over her shoulder. 

One part of their mission accomplished. 

“You must tell us all about it!” “We have lots of berries.” “We know lots about the streams around here, and -” “What do you know about the streams? You haven’t left the Quarry in decades!” 

The first thing Eric did when Eilonwy gave him his bag was check to make sure everything was inside— he brought his phone out from its designated pocket and held it against his chest for a brief moment of relief before carrying on. (Ollie had gotten the thing for him, after all, he would have felt like a complete idiot had he lost it so soon.) Keys? Check. Books? Check. Uni supplies? Check. Even the snacks he’d packed were still in there. A bit crushed now but it was nice to see them. 

Phew, so they hadn’t had a chance to rifle through everything and pick out what they wanted. Once he was satisfied everything was in its place he pulled his arms through the straps and hooks his fingers around them. 

“Thanks for giving us our stuff back, but like we’ve said, we really—” 

“You’re welcome!” “Sorry about that! They were just curious!” “So tell us about this project!” “What’s it for again?” “We can help!” 

“That’s okay.” Eric tried to be insistent but not rude. “We can’t really accept help, you see, otherwise we’d get called off for cheating. So, thanks, but—” 

“Cheating?” “That’s ridiculous!” “Who made these rules?” “Well you need to rest before your journey back.” “Come on, let’s get you something to eat!” 

Alright. So. Plan B. How else does one get out of a situation like this? 

He had no idea. Eric peered over at Eilonwy again, trying to give her a subtle shrug to ask if she may have had one. (His go to was going to be to fake an injury, but he thought they’d probably use that to their advantage to keep them around longer rather than letting them leave.) 

#crime wave #eilonwy notjustgirl

[maritimeericandersen]

Gadgets & Gizmos | Gabruceric

gabriella-marino​:

brucewhite​:​

Bruce whipped around at the sound of the voice, tapping Gabriella’s shoulder to make sure she saw him and stepping just slightly in front of her. He recognized the sound right away– it was Eric, the boy from the boats, the boy they had interrogated. He needed to leave. What if he saw Bruce going into the lake, transforming into his merman form? What if he recognized him? Bruce would almost certainly be doomed.

“What are you doing here?” Bruce demanded, starting to clench his fists, to go through the movements in his mind that Herc had taught him. Not that Bruce planned on fighting anyone right now. But you never knew. Bruce wanted to be prepared if it came to that. “Have you been following us? You need to leave. Now.”

@gabriella-marino​ @maritimeericandersen​

Gabriella, oblivious to the initial outburst, turned to see what Bruce needed. She thought maybe he was going to tell her to be careful or good luck or something like that, not that Eric Andersen had appeared out of no where and was heading right for them. 

What was he doing there? Had he been following them? Trying to catch them in their mer-forms? Her thoughts mirrored Bruce’s, eyes cutting to him with worry as he stepped in between her and Eric. If he had seen Bruce like that then he would know and there would be nothing stopping him from running off to tell someone he knew who the so called lake monster was. 

She didn’t know what either was saying. Anger flooded through her and, frustratingly enough, that ache that had been following her around ever since she’d left Eric’s house ebbed at the sight of him. Gabriella folded her arms over her chest, glaring at Eric. She trusted that Bruce would fill her in later. 

@maritimeericandersen​ @brucewhite​

“No! No, I swear it, I haven’t been following you. I had no idea you’d be out here.” Eric shook his head, desperate for the both of them to understand this despite having no way of letting Gabriella know this. He couldn’t even really allow himself to look at her, his eyes only flickering to her person before staying on her friend— her very intimidating friend! “I reckon we’re here to do the same thing, yeah? Get that thing out of the water?” 

Only there was a bit more to it than that. 

After Gabriella had left (and Eric had moped about for a long while), he had been ready to toss the bag he’d taken from Henry’s room to tow the bags. There had been something left inside. Notes and plans for the stupid thing. 

“You can’t go down there. At least, not yet and not like— you know.” Eric motioned to the two of them then moved his hand about like a fin. Like a mermaid. “The trap, it’s got a camera or something placed on it. Even if you get down there and destroy it the idiot who put it down there’ll have footage of you.” 

@brucewhite​ @gabriella-marino​

#gadgets & gizmos #brucewhite #gabriella marino

[maritimeericandersen]

Eric had been in an odd state for the past few weeks— it had been one thing to lose Gabriella, but to have lost Henry in the same day? It had been devastating after all these months of living on that line he’d been balancing on only to crash, burn, and lose everything in between. 

He had respected Gabriella’s wishes, having resisted the urge to text her every day and had not gone to her dorm or classroom anytime he was on campus despite the siren song of them calling out to him. 

It wasn’t until he got over himself and his own life problems that the thought of that stupid cage being in the lake filled his mind. It was something to do, something to keep him occupied, and like he had promised he was going to make this right. Eric planned to get it out himself, not wanting to drag Tom and his friends into this mess, and it would be too hard to explain to someone like Ollie or Danny or Eilonwy. 

He had gotten there before and had hidden at the sound of footsteps approaching, back pressed up against a tree. When no voices sounded he peaked around to find Gabriella and her friend. Shit. 

Eric didn’t know why there were there, but he could guess. He knew what she’d said but when he saw Gabriella about to go into the water, Eric couldn’t help help himself. Using the tree to push off of he went to go stop them. “Wait! Wait!” 

@brucewhite @gabriella-marino​

Gadgets & Gizmos | Gabruceric

[Takes place early April]

Now that they knew what they were up against, there was really only one thing to do: get the trap out of the lake. 

Bruce didn’t really care about the rest. He wanted the poacher to be brought to justice, obviously, but it was more pressing to make sure Swynlake’s merperson population wouldn’t meet the same danger Gabriella had met, especially considering Bruce still believed the trap was probably intended for him. They needed to get that thing out of the lake as quickly as possible.

He neared the end of Enchantra path, glancing over his shoulder nervously. This was the expensive part of town. Bruce imagined they probably had all sorts of security cameras and surveillance. He would just have to try not to be seen. 

Bruce turned to Gabriella. “Right so… I suppose this is as close to the deep part of the lake as we’ll get. We’re going to have to carry it quite a ways to get to the surface. Do you think you’ll be alright?”

@gabriella-marino @maritimeericandersen

[outfit]

#gadgets & gizmos #brucewhite #gabriella marino

[maritimeericandersen]

The Landslide Brought Me Down ~~ [Theric]

prince--thomas​:

Tom just chuckled when Eric said Grim was going to kill him, because–yeah, maybe he was. Or Eric was gonna kill Grim by giving the poor old man a heart attack that would be just enough to push him over the edge. The man had always had a bit of a nervous disposition to start. Tom felt bad that his charge was Eric, who never thought before he leapt.

“Sure,” Tom shrugged easily, “If you behave.”

They were back at the truck now and they loaded Eric in, climbing in themselves. Tom climbed in with Eric, while his partner went around to drive in an unspoken communication. Tom was still too frazzled to drive. Was better if he kept an eye on their charge.

It didn’t take long to get to the hospital and Tom climbed out of the truck while the doctors rushed up, transferring Eric on a proper gurney. He hung back, turning to his partner.

“Er, would you mind going back to the station and letting Chief Denim I’ll be along shortly?”

“Sure thing, Tom.” The other man nodded and gave him a look, but then climbed back into the truck. Tom knew he was gonna be in trouble when he got back to the station, but what was he supposed to have done? It wasn’t like he knew it was Eric when he’d sent his partner to get the board, and it was time sensitive.

He followed Eric into the A&E and found his bed after speaking to the nurse whom he recognized. At this point, Tom knew just about every nurse and doctor who worked in the A&E. Also, the entire pediatric and neonatal wing, for completely separate reasons.

“Hey,” he said when he pulled back the curtain. “The doctor been in yet?”

The ride in the ambulance was sort of cool— if not for the look on Tom’s face every time Eric chanced a glance his cousin’s way. The thought of him having to ride back here with people in worse conditions than Eric’s had him feeling sort of sick, too. (Or maybe that was just the knock to the head talking for his stomach now.) 

He felt immensely embarrassed to have people hemming and hawing over him. Was this what it had been like during the summer? When Henry and Rose had dragged him there from the lake? It had probably been a good thing he’d been half delirious from blood loss and the pain to not have remembered because this was a particular form of torture, it had to be. Being put on display for everyone to see as he was rolled by, nurses talking to one another about him like he wasn’t even there.  

Thankfully they let him sit up once he was inside a room, curtain drawn as they waited for the doctor on call to come take a look at him. They hadn’t poked him with anything, just took his information, cleaned the blood from his face, and took basic vitals for the time being. 

He lifted his head, happy to find Tom instead of someone in scrubs. “Nah, not yet. I told ‘em the story and since I haven’t got any gaping wounds I’m sure I’m low priority.” 

#the landslide brought me down #prince thomas

[maritimeericandersen]

Long Time No Sea || Eric + Shere

professor-lungri​:

@maritimeericandersen​

Shere couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped when he saw Eric’s brows pop up toward his hairline because yeah, he was sure it was an understatement that he was busy. He had been more than, in fact, but he also knew that many, many people were. It was the time of year, he supposed. 

“Eh, what you might not think is worthy of a chat might very well be. And, if I recall, you are on track to graduate. I think that means congratulations are in order, are they not?” The Vaagh smiled, still, voice warm. He enjoyed talking with students, watching them grow and succeed. He remembered how lost Eric had seemed, when he first came here, but he’d grown. 

“Nothing much,” he replied, knocking his knuckles on the top of his desk. “I just need to see which courses you still need, which you’ve taken. We have record of them, of course, but it’s got to go on official paperwork and some such for graduation.” 

Eric didn’t know about all that. Wasn’t everyone here supposed to be on track to graduate?  That’s why they were here. It didn’t feel like Eric should get a congratulations for performing the minimum, despite that being a large feat for someone like himself, who was not studious by any stretch of the word. 

So, he only nodded and gave a small, sheepish smile to acknowledge the compliment, feeling as though it would be impolite to say all this aloud— it wasn’t like the professor really cared all that much. He was busy! He had plenty of other students and things to think about. Eric wasn’t going to talk his ear off, he wanted to get this over and done with so they could get on with it. 

He listed out his courses and the ones he knew he was planning on trying to get in for in the next semester— he’d have to make sure he set his alarm for the sign up day so he could get up bright and early to get there before the classes were all filled up. 

“Should there be anything else I need?” Eric glanced down, as if he could read whatever the professor had been writing down at this angle. (He couldn’t.) 

#long time no sea #professor lungri

[maritimeericandersen]

It’s A Hard Bump Life || Danny + Eric

darling-lost-boy​: 

Danny didn’t know if he really…agreed with Eric about the whole figuring it out for yourself thing. After all, he was the first to admit he had no idea how to be an adult. And sometimes, that could be dangerous. Usually, it wasn’t disastrous. It meant figuring out how to get an apartment and what to do when your uni laundry machine stopped working…

But considering Eric had been in the hospital twice in the past year…maybe he should be talking to someone about his decisions with a little more frequency. Not that Danny was judging! Just…he knew that sometimes people didn’t ask for help, even when they needed it. His sister was like that. He was beginning to see that Wendy was like that too. And who was he to think that he could help them? Obviously he couldn’t. That didn’t mean that he couldn’t see it, sometimes.

Danny’s musing about this was cut off when Eric admitted that he’d run away. That was news. He had known Eric was here on his own, and that he didn’t have a lot of family…but that didn’t mean runaway! Just that–he’d decided to go to uni somewhere that wasn’t home. (Okay, maybe he could’ve figured it out, but Danny didn’t exactly want to play detective with his friends. It was the same reason he let Anna do what she needed to do…)

The surprise made him laugh. Or maybe it was the irony. Either way, he couldn’t help it, he laughed and then he blushed and felt like he had to explain himself. It probably wasn’t nice to laugh when someone told you that they’d run away…

“I am not–I am not laughing at you! I just–erm, well…I kinda guess, you could say, maybe, that I–kinda ran away too. Sorta. I mean my mum just thought I was in…Eastern Europe…backpacking…for a while.” Almost a year. He winced.

“So, uh, yeah. I kinda get it…”

Eric whole demeanor shifted, eyebrows arching high on his forehead and jaw falling slack to choke out a half surprised-half impressed huff because good lord! He had not seen that coming. On his list of all the things the two of them could have had in common running away and lying to a parental figure about my wear abouts was pretty far town on it. There was a big difference between one’s faked death and pretending to be traveling around, but eh, semantics were never something Eric paid much attention to. 

It made him see Danny in a new light now— not necessarily in a better one, just more like he could see more of him, as he head allowed Eric to do so. Much of their time together, Eric felt like he needed to strain and squint to get even the smallest amount of details. (Maybe this was because Eric had never asked the right questions.) 

“Wow, I never would have guessed— it’s always the quite ones.” He wagged his finger, more of a scolding to himself for not finding this out sooner rather than at Danny for not sharing it. Eric hadn’t either! 

Now he felt like his complaining was a moot point since Danny knew where he was coming from. It wasn’t that big of a deal anyway, not compared to this new information he had been gifted. Eric wanted to know more, wanted to see if Danny would let him. 

“Have you told her yet? Or are you supposed to be in— what? Croatia or something?” 

#it's a hard bump life #darling lost boy