The Bear King
Disclaimer: Disney/Pixar owns it all.
Author's note: Today for your entertainment I'll be doing a dialogue I call Fun with Scottish Accents! Please bear with me as I attempt to write an accent that, despite all its sexiness when coming out of the mouth of Billy Boyd, Carson Beckett or David Tennant, is nonetheless incredibly difficult to write.
"Mum, Mum, I saw a wisp!"
"A wisp? You know, they say the will o' the wisps will lead ye tae yer destiny."
Fergus shook his head in amusement. Will o' the wisps? He'd stopped believing in that fairy tale when he was younger than Merida. There was no such thing as magic. Still, he couldn't help but chuckle at his young daughter's stubborn insistence that she was telling the truth. She got that from her mother, no doubt.
Fergus turned to continue directing his men in the breakdown of the party pavilion. It was Merida's sixth birthday, and Fergus had decided it was time to train his only child in the use of the bow—much to his queen's chagrin. As delightful as the family outing had been, it was time to return to Dun Broch Castle and resume his (ugh) royal duties. Being king certainly had its perks, but Fergus for one missed the informality of simply being a lord with a piece of land to call his own in the beautiful Highlands. A home and a family were enough responsibility. Trying to run a whole kingdom required administrative duties to which Elinor was better suited than he. How lucky he was to have her for a wife.
Fergus was just tacking up Elinor's horse when he heard Merida scream. He turned to see what had startled the girl. There before his family stood a nine foot, battle-scarred beast of legend whom Fergus had only dreamed of encountering. But never like this. Not with his young family there, unarmed and completely vulnerable to the infamous monster black bear. Fegus' eyes widened as he recognized the boar. "Mor'du," he whispered.
Fergus gave a battle yell, leaping into action. He easily put himself between the boar and his wife and daughter, giving them the chance to run for the horse as Fergus' men swarmed to his aid. Arrows were fired at Mor'du, but he ignored them. Sword drawn and ready, Fergus challenged Mor'du. "Come on!"
The bear obliged him, snapping at the king, who deflected his open jaws with the sword, leaving a gash on the bear's face. Mor'du became enraged, coming down to all fours and using his head like a battering ram to knock Fergus to one side, knocking the wind out of him and bruising several ribs.
Fergus rolled over and tried to catch his breath. No sooner had he stood up to face the beast again when it reared and knocked him to the ground again with a powerful forepaw. Fergus lashed at Mor'du with his sword, but the weapon proved ineffective against the bear's thick hide and skull. Mor'du reared with a snarl and brought his weight down on the king. Once again the air was forced from Fergus' lungs and his head was slammed into the rocky ground. The world around him began to get fuzzy and dim, and all Fergus could do as darkness and pain threatened to overwhelm him was hope that Elinor had made it safely back to the castle with their precious daughter.
Suddenly Mor'du reared again, snarling with rage. As Fergus' vision cleared he saw that some of his men had gotten a chain around the monster's neck. Fergus took his sword and jumped up, ready to slice the bear's throat. But Mor'du proved too strong for the men holding the chain and tossed them aside. He turned his attention back to Fergus. The king taunted the bear, letting him fixate on his most determined challenger.
"I'll no' have yeh threatenin' mah family, ya great devil!" Fergus roared. "'ave a go at me, why doncha?"
Bear and man parleyed momentarily. Then Mor'du reared to strike again. Fergus dodged and rolled as the beast lashed out. The king grunted and rubbed his bruised and possibly broken ribs, then jumped up to challenge Mor'du again. By this time Fergus' men had organized a charge on the bear. In one quick instant, Fergus charged Mor'du, backing the bear toward the guards, only to have Mor'du land a blow that knocked Fergus to the ground again.
Before Fergus could regain his feet, he felt a sharp, burning pain in his left leg, right above the knee, and heard a sickening crunch as the bear's fangs sunk into his flesh. And before he could properly register the pain, Fergus found himself airborne. He collided with several of his men. Dazed only momentarily, Fergus attempted to get up again, but was unable to find his footing, only making it to a kneeling position, left knee on the ground. He looked down at his leg, but could only see a frightening amount of blood where his calf and foot should have been. Enraged, Fergus let out a savage yell.
"Kill tha' monster! Get 'im, men! CHAAAAAARRRRGE!"
The guards cheered and charged at Mor'du again. Apparently, though, the boar had had enough and decided to retreat. The men cheered again at their victory, but Fergus wasn't so optimistic.
"He'll be back. The devil'll be back. We cannae le' our guard doon wi' tha' monster aroond. Men, secure the castle grounds! Make certain th' queen an' princess are safe. I'm goin' back tae...mah..." Fergus swayed and faltered, sinking to all fours as pain and dizziness overwhelmed him. Beyond the fog that now dominated his vision he heard his men shouting to one another. Something about his being injured. Rough hands lifted him up and laid him on his back, causing the world around him to spin. He muttered incoherently about Elinor and Merida before darkness took him.
The world around Fergus slowly came into focus. He recognized his wife's still-blurry face, backlit by candlelight.
"Fergus?"
Fergus let out a soft sigh. "Ach, there ye are."
"Och, Fergus! I was so worried! When the men came bearin' ye on a litter, I assumed the worst!"
Fergus took his wife's hand. "Yeh dinnae need tae worry 'boot me, lass. It takes more than a bear tae overtake me!"
Elinor smiled.
Fergus tried to sit up, but Elinor shushed him and placed a firm hand on his shoulder to keep him still.
"Where's Merida?" he asked.
"She'll be asleep by this time, and you must rest as well. Yer still healin'. Yer injuries were bad, Fergus." Elinor looked away, afraid to say more.
Fergus gave her a quizzical look, then cupped her chin in his hand, turning her face toward his. "How bad is it?"
Elinor sighed. "Ye've been asleep almost two days' time. There's nothin' left of yer leg from the knee doon. You almost bled tae death."
"Hmm..."
Elinor looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "That's all ye can say?"
Fergus shrugged. "Elinor, the important thing tae me is tha' you an' Merida are safe. I'd much rather lose mah leg than the two of you. I dinnae know wha' I would do if tha' ever happened. Ye ken?"
Elinor nodded. "But I dinnae know what I would do withou' you, either, m'love."
He squeezed her hands. "Fate has chosen tae delay us from findin' oot."
Elinor smiled and leaned in to kiss her husband.