Castle of Glass

A/N: OKAY DON'T HATE ME I KNOW I HAVE SOME EXPLAINING TO DO JUST GIVE ME TWO SECONDS JUST TWO SECONDS OKAY

I know I said I would post the sequel to Starlight, Star Bright shortly, and I will. But I'm trying to hit at least 15k on my Camp Nano before I do so, and I did not write this just today. In fact, I was sifting through old documents to avoid writing and I found this one. I showed it to my friend, who said I should post it. So yes. That is why this was posted, okay? If you want to send me hatemail for posting this before SSB's sequel, feel free to do so. Just don't send me questions asking where that particular story is, now that I have already explained.

Onto the next big thing! This is my very first Brave fanfiction that's been posted, so I hope nobody minds if I went a little overboard on the Scottish slang. I'm not Scottish, so I have no idea if they actually use any of these terms. I know that when Merida speaks in this story, she says "ah" but in her head, she says "I". That's because a lot of people can't hear their or others' accents when they've grown up hearing them. So. And if anybody who actually is from Scotland can tell me how they speak there, that'd be helpful. Please give me feedback? (But, to my loyal readers of the To Be Loved the Way You Love Me AU, I'm at 13k! Just 2k more and the next story will be posted!)

I have always believed in magic. My mother would tell me tales about ancient kings and queens when I was little; talking late into the night, she would weave a tale that would keep me wide awake for hours to come.

Myth and legend sprang up around me in the most unexpected places. The highlands was a perfect spot for the strange and unexpected to happen at any given time, but I guess the person who found what happened most unexpected was me.

My daily horse ride turned into an adventure I had never known when I notched an arrow in my bow, gritted my teeth and readied myself for a shot. I had no targets to shoot at anymore; they had become so filled with arrows by now that I couldn't fit any more in them. I pleased myself by shooting tree trunks instead, always in the spot I'd imagined they would go.

The arrow I'd just notched hit the correct trunk, of course, right in the middle. I allowed myself a tiny smile, notched another arrow and aimed it at the next tree. I could tell we would pass it before my arrow could hit it, but I tried it anyway. I like a challenge.

What I wasn't prepared for, though, was for something blue and white and brown to come shooting down in front of me just as I let fly my arrow. I wasn't prepared for my arrow to pierce whatever it was instead of the tree. Angus stopped short, going skidding on the damp grass.

"Oh!" I yelled as he bucked me off and I did a face plant in the grass. Raising my head and wiping the moss out of my eyes, I realized that the blue, white and brown object that had messed up my shot wasn't a thing at all – it was a person. A white-haired boy, to be exact, blood running down the side of his face, the arrow sticking straight out of his left shoulder.

"Are you okay?" My voice was a little higher than I was used to as I knelt down next to him, one hand on Angus' nose, trying to calm him. He didn't seem too keen on the stranger's smell. "Ah'm so sorry, I didnae even see you there…where did you come from?"

His eyes fluttered open long enough for me to see that they were bright, sparkling blue, but then they closed again, and I was willing to bet that his impact with the ground had knocked him out.

"Oh, no…" I mumbled hefting him onto my shoulder. I guess I expected him to be heavy, because he was pretty tall, but he was surprisingly light and easy to maneuver onto Angus' saddle. The horse didn't make any more protests against him, for which I was grateful. I tugged on Angus' reins and he set off at a gallop, but riding with an unconscious person behind you was harder than it looked. I had stirrups and a saddle, but the strange boy behind me had nothing to keep him on Angus' back. I just had to keep glancing back and making sure he was still there, and this made the ride a lot harder than usual.

When I reached the castle, I put Angus in his stable, picked the boy up and carried him bridal style into the castle. Like I said, he was light and it wasn't that hard to carry him. I got a few weird looks from some of the servants, but nobody actually came right out and said anything to me. I worried that maybe I was jostling the stranger and worsening the arrow wound and then, suddenly, it occurred to me that I probably should have taken the arrow out of his shoulder before I came charging in here with his prone body in my arms. This thought made me uncomfortable, but the idea of stopping and trying to take it out wasn't a preferred one; I was scared of leaving the actual head in his skin.

The sight of the medical door was a welcome sight, and I didn't even bother knocking before bursting in. "Aileen!" I called out the familiar name of the castle healer, holding up the strange boy for her to see. "I need your help, Aileen!"

"What's wrong, Princess, dear?" Aileen had been the castle healer since I was a kid, and she had taken more arrowheads out of my skin than I could count. I was sure she'd be able to help.

"Aileen, he's got an arrow in his shoulder, and he was bleeding from his head when ah got to him. Ah'm no sure if that was from his fall or what, but—what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Princess, dear, are you feeling alright?" she asked me concernedly, putting a hand to my forehead.

"Of course," I responded, a little bit offended by her concerned expression. "It's no me that's injured, it's him, he had a pretty bad fall, and ah accidentally shot him with an arrow—

"Did you eat anything strange before bed last night?"

"This isnae about me—

"Did you have some of the king's private reserves again?"

"What? No, ah—

"Are you sure, dear? Because last time you—

"Will you listen?!" I yelled, practically stamping my foot in frustration. "This isnae about me! This is about him!" I pointed to the boy in my arms angrily, trying to draw her attention with him.

"Princess, sweetie, are you sure—

"Why do you keep asking me if ah'm feeling alright?" I demanded.

"Sweetheart—

"Aileen…." I dragged out the word, waiting for her to confess.

And she reached out a hand and rested it right on top of mine. Her fingers went completely through the boy in my arms. "Princess, there's nothing there."

"Wh-what?" I nearly dropped the boy, I was so surprised. I deposited him gently onto the bed, just in case my strength failed within the next few moments. "But…but he's right here, look!" I put a hand on his stomach, and he shifted slightly, as if sensing my touch. "Cannae you see him?"

"Princess, there isnae anything." She put a hand down on the bed to emphasize her point. No, the bed wasn't empty, but she didn't touch the boy; her hand went through his shoulder.

"But…but…" I stumbled backward a bit, feeling a sudden urge to run away on Angus and shoot as many tree trunks as I possibly could. "But he's right there!" I pointed again to the bed, feeling as if the very ground was tilting beneath me.

"Are you feeling alright?" she repeated, concern beginning to color her face.

"Give me your hand."

"What? Why?"

"Aileen, please."

"Princess, it's the ultimate sign of disrespect to—

I hated using my authority on the servants, but for the first time, I did. "Aileen, ah order you to give me your hand."

She gently allowed her rough and callused hand to take mine. I set her hand right on the boy's chest, hoping she would be able to feel his heartbeat, or give up the terrible joke she was probably pulling.

She shook her head wordlessly. "Princess, there's nothing there."

"But…his heart! It's…he's right there!" I moved my own hand up to his chest as I spoke, and I realized that Aileen was right in at least one respect: his heart wasnae beating. I mean, I literally had my hand on his chest and I could feel nothing. I frantically moved my hand around a bit, but…nothing. There was nothing.

"Och!" I cried, stepping quickly away from him.

"Princess, it's alright—

"His heart…it's…it's…he's dead!"

"Princess…"

"Aileen, ah think he's dead!"

"Princess, ah'm…er…sure he's okay," she replied soothingly, but I knew she was just humoring me: she didnae look very sincere about it.

"I donnae understand how you cannae see him…" I mumbled under my breath, practically wringing my hands in my distress. I didnae even know somebody could wring their hands in distress, but I was doing it right then. If Aileen couldnae see him, then what was I supposed to do?

I was normally a levelheaded person, even in a crisis, but I donnae think I would have accomplished anything if my mum hadn't burst in right then, leading Hamish by the hand. She appeared ready to scold him, but for the moment, she was holding back. Hamish hopped up next to Aileen on one of the beds and held up his hand for her to inspect. "I got a splinter," he informed her, as if she couldnae see that for herself.

"Yes…I see, dear," she patted his red curls soothingly, but her eyes were still fixated on me.

"Mum." I took my mum's hand and gently tugged her away from Hamish. "Mum, ah need your help…"

"With what, Merida?" she seemed a wee bit distracted as I led her over to the boy's bed, but her eyes widened when she saw him. And I instantly knew that she had seen him, because, unlike Aileen, she didnae look ready to ask me what she was supposed to be seeing, or anything stupid like that. She gasped, putting a hand over her mouth. "Oh, Merida…what happened to him?"

"Ah shot him with mah arrow," I admitted quietly. "He just sorta came out o' nowhere. I couldnae help it, I had already drawn it back…I didnae want to risk getting it oot, and hurtin' him worse…ah just left it in."

"Merida, he's bleeding."

As if I couldnae see that for myself. "Ah know. He…he fell after I shot him, and the impact with the ground must've…well…" I still couldnae wrap my mind around the fact that I had killed somebody. "Mum, his heart…it's…" And instead of saying it, I just took her hand, like I had done with Aileen, who was now looking terrified for the both of us and our sanity. I placed her hand over his heart and Mum gasped again when she realized the truth.

"Oh, Merida…" she pressed her fingers to her lips in horror.

"Ah didnae mean to, Mum," I said quietly. "Ah really didnae…"

"Merida, it's alright," she patted my back soothingly, but she still looked horrified. "I donnae believe it was entirely your fault. Look at him, he must have been badly hurt beforehand…"

And then, even as she spoke, trying to comfort me, the boy did the most unexpected thing I could possibly think of, under the circumstances. He drew in a long breath, opened his eyes and sat up.

And I did something unexpected, too: I backed away again and screamed.