The three young men stood in the center of the field, their fathers and clans standing behind them, as always. It was with a cynical, disdainful eye that I surveyed the diverse trio from my seat beside my beloved Da, the one person who understood me best out of all the people in the world.
First there was Wee Dingwall. Tiny, hairless, yellow-teethed Wee Dingwall, who acted more like a rabid pup then the dauntless future clan leader that he was supposed to be. And – let us be honest – "Dingwall?" All of these traits considered, I would rather die – or at least remain unmarried – rather than become Lady Merida Dingwall.
I turned my attention next to Young MacIntosh, wondering if perhaps I might find a better prospect in this much-swooned-over son of a lord. Apparently he was supposed to be the most handsome man – if I could even apply that word to this egotistical, self-absorbed, childish excuse for an example of humanity – in his clan. Truthfully, I couldn't see what all of the fuss was about. And if he really was the most handsome… male in his clan, I couldn't help but feel at least a little sorry for them all. Really, the man has more hair on his scalp than I did! And that beak of a nose – ugh! To say nothing of the fact that I highly doubted that his mummy had ever let him out of the nursery and away from his poor (most likely underpaid) nurse – it wouldn't surprise me at all to find out that he still had a nurse – before today. In short – no.
I move onto Young McGuffin, my last final hope, entirely ready to be disappointed. So far as his character is concerned, I had noticed only that despite his size, he was timid and nervous, which are emotions that I would consider entirely appropriate and even expected, given the situation. He had been quiet so far today, but something told me that should he become comfortable, he might turn into a sociable, talkative sort.
Like my da.
The thought crossed my mind almost before I could register its presence, and it took me by surprise. I narrowed my eyes and tilted my head to the side, continuing my study of the young man – a word that I find I have no problems with applying to him.
Of course, there is his nearly ridiculous dialect, but that is not – unlike with Wee Dingwall and Young MacIntosh – what might be considered a flaw in his character. As for his physical appearance, he was neither hairless not beak-nosed, and hardly what one might consider tiny. He was, in fact, quite the opposite, as he is very tall, and well built to the point of perhaps being imposing.
Like my da.
Again, the thought came very much without my permission, and I didn't particularly like it. It softened my heart a little bit towards this person that I am trying to tell myself to despise.
Before I have managed to shove the thought completely away, Young McGuffin caught me staring at him and grinned timidly at me. Employing quite a mind of its own, my mouth curved upwards and I smiled in return. I even decide to myself that I like his smile.
Another though sprung from my heart into my brain, this one far more traitorous and unexpected than the others. If he can be so much like my da, then maybe I wouldn't mind being something like my mother and marrying him.
Despite the surprising pleasantness of this new idea, I remind myself sharply that I can't think that way. I touch my bow and arrow hidden under my thrown with the back of my foot. After all, I had a better plan, and I intended to stick with it, no matter what sudden feelings I may or may not be developing for Young McGuffin.
I've had this one-shot in my mind for awhile, but I just now got around to typing it up. It's my first "Brave" fic, so feedback and reviews would be great. Thanks!:)