The Way Home
A/N: This is my newest one-shot based off a fan video for the Big Four, the song from the video ("What Makes Us Girls" by Lana Del Rey) and my own twisted mind that really wanted to make this xD the first draft was longer, unnecessary and ultimately shittier, though I did have to sacrifice a line I really liked from the first version for this one. Anyway, it's written from Merida's POV because, for some reason, whenever, when freaking ever I write a Big Four fic, it's always Merida's POV. In I Don't Want to Talk About It, it starts in her POV and then flips, but it always starts in hers. I don't even know. Merida is my favorite, I think, after Hiccup. I love Hiccup. Your argument is invalid. I actually ship Jarida, not Jackunzel, like in the fic, but the video I based it off of featured Merricup and Jackunzel, so I was like, ehh...I've never written Jackunzel before, so I figured I needed the practice, especially considering I've got another Jackunzel fic in the works that mayyy or may not get finished.
Merida would never forget.
Their story was not the stuff of legend; there were no beautiful princesses, no dashing heroes saving the screaming damsel-in-distress from the abyss. They were not heroes.
They were simply four broken, abandoned teenagers, seeking solace in one another as they ran from their duties, abandoning lives that seemed simply too big for those who lived them. They were not legends, and they would not be remembered.
But she would remember them. And when she was ready, she would write their story down on the pages in her mind, treasure it like an actual book, because to her, they were legends. She would remember them always, because they had been her best friends, her only friends and though they were lost to her now, they still mattered.
Hiccup.
Calloused hands, freckled face, flushed cheeks, prominent stutter, emerald eyes, auburn hair. Tanned skin against her pale body, firm lips on hers, brilliant mind, countless inventions, leather bound book. Shyness, insecurity in every word he spoke, because he felt useless and weak and alone. Heir to Berk, Viking prince, who, for all his lacking physical strength, was every bit the boar-headed, stubborn person his father had been before him.
She closed her eyes. It hurt.
Jack.
Crystal eyes, mischievous smile, thin face, long-fingered hands, wooden staff, worn hoodie. Pain in every line of the pale face, pain and being lost and being broken and being abandoned, for he knew how that felt best of all. Rigid posture, for he remembered to trust no one. But around them, he'd trusted. Around them, he'd relaxed, sprawling out on the grass, teasing and laughing and loving, even though he worried it would bring him still more pain, because that was what he did, he never worried, he just blindly flung himself in the path of hurt, because he needed something to cling to, something to feel.
Rapunzel.
Innocence. Big green eyes that blinked and filled with tears and refused to believe the world could be so cruel, because she would never believe the worst of people, even when the worst was what she got. Golden hair that fell around her in waves, hiding her porcelain face from view. Innocence in every breath she breathed, because innocence was what she was, even when people hurt her, even when they told her she was nothing or stupid or broken. Innocence, and something else, something deeper. Fear in every blink, because she was scared. She was afraid of the whole world and she loved it, too.
Rapunzel sliding her hand into Jack's, intertwining their fingers, smiling shyly at him until he kissed her. Hiccup working too hard on an invention to stop for sleep or food or relaxing, refusing to even take his eyes off his work, until they got his attention in some way. Jack tugging on her hair, teasing her, calling her 'Carrot Top' and dodging her when she spun around, reaching for her bow and ready to punch clean holes through him. Lying in the grass and looking up at the stars, all of them, Rapunzel with her blond head on Jack's stomach, Hiccup pointing out constellations and explaining how to find your way home by the stars.
Merida remembered leaning against his shoulder, whispering into the woolen fabric of his shirt that she didn't need the stars to guide her anymore. Hiccup twisting to look at her, smiling, waiting until she smiled back to kiss her.
Soft secrets exchanged for stolen kisses and stargazing, quiet voices and surprise snowfalls and stupid puns and even stupider inside jokes, and getting drunk as hell and laughing about it even though they had splitting headaches the next morning. Injuries and rainy days and bad dreams, competitions and swimming lessons and picnics, and knowing that they had each other, no matter how alone they seemed in the world. Even when their world was crumbling down around them, they were safe with each other, in each other's arms. There was always someone there, always someone to hang onto, until suddenly, there wasn't.
Where there had once been three other spots reserved on the grass, where previously the one in charge of food had had to remember to pack four meals, where Rapunzel used to knit four sweaters every Christmas…suddenly she knitted three. Suddenly, color was bleached out of her life and all she had left to cling to was his deep voice, promising her he would be okay, he would be safe, but he hadn't been okay, hadn't been safe, because like the stupid and reckless and brave boy he was, he'd fallen into the flames and the Night Fury had returned with an empty saddle and Merida realized she could still taste that last kiss he'd given her.
And where there had once been two other spots reserved on the grass, where previously the one in charge of food had had to remember to pack three meals, where Rapunzel used to knit three sweaters every Christmas, suddenly she knitted two. And she was quiet, shrunken, retreating inside herself, deeper and deeper every day, pushing out the rest of the world, the world that she feared and loved, because it had taken her love away from her, too. Suddenly Rapunzel was not innocence.
Suddenly smiles were rare and Merida never looked at the stars anymore, because they reminded her of the way home, and the way home was gone.