Credit to Disney and Pixar for Merida Dunbroch, from Brave, 2012.
Credit to Cressida Cowell, author of HTTYD novels, and Dreamworks for Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, from the How To Train Your Dragon franchise.
Edit belongs to kelytagrace on tumblr.
Set in RTTE: Season 1.
This fanfiction is purely for my self indulgence. Updates might take a bit of time, but chapters will be released when they are completed. Please, no offensive comments, but constructive criticism is all right.
Fire flickers on the candle, glowing, bringing light into my bed chambers. The light is far less illuminating than I wanted, but flickering a brimming orange, it's all my eyes wanted to see. My right arm folded over the table, my hand hovered over the fire.
It's beautiful; heating up my hand, I withdrew my hand before it caught the fire. I admit, I shrieked a little when the fire rose, almost, close to burning my finger. Mocking me, as if it wants me to catch it; the fiery fiend isn't kind to me.
Raging with annoyance, but also curiosity, I thrusted out my tongue. I was slouching on the chair, but sitting up, I rest my elbows on the desk and weaved a hand above the fire. Back, forth, right and left...it's dancing.
"I'll blow you out," I whispered. Lightly blowing, the light flickers, almost going out, but had to stop there. My only light-I won't let it go out.
I hear the door, the old wood is creaking, again. "Merida?"
Oi.
Pulling away a little too late, keeping my hand above the ember flame wasn't a good idea. It's hurting. Grabbing my hand, wrapping it with the cloth of my dress, I wince from the burn.
She sees me. Rushing to my side, I can't 'elp but want her to go away. I've had enough of hearing her voice, right now; listen to me Mum, you've started getting good at it. Our relationship is better than before. Nothing was forced on me anymore, and Mum and I started riding together-only if she had her off days.
Mending our bond-more like the tapestry, did help us get closer, but as of now, I want to be left alone. I don't want her near me; I came to my bedchambers to get away, but Mum is just as stubborn as I am and wouldn't let me go without clearing it up.
The burnt brought me out of my thoughts. It's scorching hot.
Mum grasps my shoulders, tugging me a little closer to her; reading her eyes, widened and welling up with concern, "Merida! Merida, are you hurt?!" slinking away, I turned my back. "Mum, I'm fine. I don't need you on my...ah-"
I clutch my hand to my chest. Oh, it hurts.
If I could get a bangade, I'll wrap it up-that's like askin' Mum for one. Can't sneak one, cause; one, Mum is in the room, and two, she won't let me leave without showing my hand, and three, I'm angry at her, so no talking to Mum or showing her my hand.
"Merida, show me your hand." Mum tries reaching out; she's got to move faster. I've crossed over to my bed with the green sheets. "Merida, stop being so stubborn. You're hurt, darling."
"I told you, Mum that I'm fine." Repeating it, my annoyance can't be missed. My thick brows are twitching.
"No, you are not, let me see it," she insisted.
"I don't want to!"
"Oh, stop being stubborn, Merida. Your burn has to be healed."
"It'll heal on its own," I persist, but she persists, too. "Merida, listen."
"I can't keep up with traditions and traditions can't keep up with me!" I shouted. Enough, right, I'm putting my foot down. "I won't be tied down because traditions say so! I thought that you let me have my freedom!"
"I know it's hard to comprehend," Mum reaches out her hand to tuck some hair behind my ear. Her touch is comforting, reminding me of when she'd stay in my room with me. I was a lot younger, and got scared of the storms. "Traditions can't be overlooked. Such has been the way before our family," Mum says. She has a small smile. "Love is what I want for you."
"Love? Is that it?"
"Merida, don't fight with me."
"I'm not trying to start a fight! I don't want to have a fight, I honestly don't!" To vent of my frustration, I cross both sides of my room. I keep tracking my steps, counting how many I've taken. It's getting my mind off the fact Mum is still in here, feeling ignored. "But it's tradition this, tradition that. It's starting to feel like one of your lessons!"
"Oh Merida, honestly."
I sighed. It came out like a loud groan. Just like every suitor that comes into the castle, I care less for traditions each day. The traditions have existed long before Mum and Dad were crowned, I know, I know. The one who made these stupid traditions ought to have considered feelings over duty. But, Clan Dunbroch's duty is to our people.
Our people are like seedlings. In a way, the rulers help them grow through leadership and guidance. We can achieve great heights if Clan Dunbroch forms alliances and keep them bound in a tight knot.
But freedom is an important thing for me. I don't want to be shackled by responsibilities-only one day I didn't have to be a princess. No lessons, no responsibilities, no expectations. I took that day like it was a mountain of cakes on my plater.
Chasing after the wind and chasing after the dreams that would be taken from me if I ascended to the throne. I'm supposed to, like my Mum's been prodding me for years-the Princess of Dunbroch is the heir, and as tradition says, the Princess needs a mate. I don't need a mate. I don't want to mate.
I could marry for love if I wanted to, but Mum and even Dad with convincing from Mum, were "convinced" that an alliance through marriage might stop the problems of invaders and extend our defenses. I think, Dad hasn't really told me, but I think he wants me to be cared for by someone that can get along with me. He doesn't want to be part of this; I know how he feels.
Mum hasn't given up. She might say it's a wee matter-everything will be resolved if I meet some strange suitor and we're wed by the next day or something. I wouldn't let it be the next day-I won't let it be any day. Standing in the middle of the room, I've let my thoughts run wild and take me over; it's like I was caught up in the clouds. I shoved my dreamy feelings into a sack and tossed 'em out.
"You are becoming a bonny lady," she says. Mum looks me over, and reached out her hands to pull the sleeves of my dress further down.
"Your mind will change when you are older, Merida."
"I finally have my freedom, Mum. I'm not letting it go."
My body has changed, is that good enough?
My old dresses don't fit me, all a wee tight. So, I turned to a tartan dress with a semi embroidered over bodice. It's clipped up at the bottom by a brass pin engraved with the symbol of Clan Dunbroch. I always strap full length leather gloves on both my arms, with buttons along the side that exposes a hint of my skin.
"Thank ye for the compliment," I said.
Her hands rest on my shoulders. "Don't be so irritable, Merida. It's not the end of the world."
"Is what you said the last time."
"I mean it more now than I did, long ago," Arms dropping to her sides, Mum pulls away. "Traditions are ancient, but those traditions that cannot be changed, we must follow with chins held high."
"I think you're looking up too high," I remarked, arms crossing.
Mom clicks her tongue. "Oh, Merida, you are not a child anymore."
"That's what you said the last time, too."
"Darling," Oi. Here we go, again. "Betrothal may not be beneficial in your eyes, but as time will come, before you must become queen, I want you to be looked after. Ascending to the throne will be great, but although you have proven to me that you handle your own, you may need a hand for reassurance."
"Think I can't handle my own," I muttered. Forking out a yawn, I stretch my arms out. I trot to my bed and swing around the bedpost-noticing this all the time, it's covered with slashes from my sword. "Shut eye, Mum." Mum walked over to me. She has her hands clasped over her dress,
"Will you be all right, darling?"
"I'm fine. Go, please?"
"I'll see you in the morning, then," Mum left my room.
I sprinted for the desk. I duck my head underneath the wood and pulled out a loose stone. Unraveling the bound pile of parchment, I have beautiful sketches in my hands. The shading on the sketches is amazing. "He's an amazing artist," his handwriting is good. These are sketches of an Island past the Orkney Islands, just twelve days north by boat. By Change Courier, from what I know, their speed reduces the time a normal dragon, half the time by boat.
She's a wee, yoong dragon. Her silver scales are shiny in the moonlight. It's gold, usually, her scales are like Camhanaich-early morning twilight. Camhanaich sleeps in my bedchamber on her fur blankets. Her snores are quieter compared to mine.
This is Berk.
I ran my fingers over the sketch of the hangar.
Dragon feeding stations were implemented around Berk. The dragons love them. It's very useful to let the dragons feed themselves if their riders aren't there. Oh, and this is Berk, too! It's still under construction,
He meant the dragon feeding station. Looks like I had the letters jumbled.
And this also.
I know what windmills look like, Hiccup. My laughter turned snorting doesn't wake up Camhanaich. "You didn't have to sketch every part of your Island."
Yeah, it's been three whole years since the war with the Berserkers and Berk has changed a lot. But then again, so have we. Snotlout works at the armoury now. Gobber gave him the title of "official weapons tester." The twins, to absolutely no one's surprise, have decided to dedicate their lives to Loki. The God of pranks. Lucky us.
And then there's Fishlegs, who has really found his calling, teaching the children of Berk the history of dragons.
Setting the stack on the desk, I had to shuffle through each one to find the rest of his recent letter.
You know I don't wait for new class and species of dragon to appear. They're out there and I'll find out as much as I can. Some tell me "the Book of Dragons is completed, Hiccup." oh, and my least favorite one, "There isn't anything else out there, Hiccup." I know they're wrong. There has to be more out there.
I know it's a little strange or it could even be funny to watch me struggling to find more dragons. I know Snotlout and the twins poke their fun at me. It's the same way you used to.
"Wee scrawny lamb, he was back then," I smirked. He's older than me by a few months but I used to have a tall advantage over him.
Until my hopes are completely gone, I'll keep a lookout for more dragons. Everyone has their own thing. Toothless and I haven't found ours yet. You wouldn't give up searching even if everyone told you it was over, would you, Merida?
You have your duties as Princess of Dunbroch. How are you? I don't suppose something stands in the way of your following duties? You can't hold a grudge against a curious Viking!
"Camhanaich, you're awake?" I said, surprised. Then I scratched under Camhanaich's chin. She curls up at my feet, grumbling softly with a little yawn added in. Cuttie. I've got an idea why Hiccup chose her. The small saddle bag with compartments strapped on her wee back carry mine and his letters back and forth in about three days. She tossed it off instantly after I unlatched a cylinder compartment and fished out Hiccup's letter.
Camhanaich whines as I pulled my hand away. I grabbed the quill and dipped the end into the ink. I reached out for the parchment under a stack of books, and while I tried to pull it out with one hand, I groaned when the books tumbled to the floor. Camhanaich scurried behind me before she was pelted by books.
Camhanaich grumbles. "Hiccup had fish packed. I'll cut it into wee bits and I promise to hand feed you," I smiled. Ah, Camhanaich is so pampered.
I clasp my fingers together and stretched out my arms. Moaning, and yawning right after, I said to her, "It's late. Let's get this letter done so you can fly in the morning. Hush up, and get some sleep-" I stifled, seeing Camhanaich nestled at my feet.
I get back to my letter.
To Hiccup,