Disclaimer
I own no characters used in the story of this production. I own only my imagination and the Holmes language.
Warning
THIS STORY CONTAINS SPOILERS OF CONTENTS THAT BELONG IN THE 2012 MOVIE BRAVE. TURN BACK NOW IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN IT OR WISH TO SEE IT. COME BACK AFTER YOU HAVE SEEN IT TO MAKE SENSE OF CERTAIN PARTS AND SO THAT YOUR EXPERIENCE WHEN WATCHING THE MOVIE IS NOT SPOILED.
THANK YOU.
This story is rated M for Mature. If you are easily disgusted or ill, have anything against possible homosexual intercourse, or can not stand harsh wording, then I suggest you turn back now. You have been warned and I would not wish to recieve complaints about it in the future.
Authors note
I have recently been searching the definition 'Steampunk' and its world (Though it sadly has nothing to do with this story.). I admit it is very interesting. For those of you who do not know Steampunk is a universe which takes place usually during the victorian era and in which the world (usually Europe England) is powered by steam. Aside from that I have been bored and writing seems to be my only escape from summer school. Not only that but I've been wanting to use my new language. I will try not to bore you any further and will write. Thank you, and enjoy.
My name is Merida, and this is my story.
The Holmes Language
Chapter one
Hahlmes*
The morning started off simple, normal. I awoke, brushed my tussled red hair as much as it would allow me, and I went down stairs to be greeted by my family. My mother, Queen Elinor, was the first to greet me, "Good morning Merida." She said, although her lips pierced and her face flushed in rage when she actually saw me, "Merida! What have I told you about keeping yourself kept? You will never find a husband if you do not groom yourself." I know what she is reffering to, my hair.
Is it my fault that I get my wild red hair from my father, and that there is no way to contain it?
If I could, I would. It would save me a mornings worth of argument with my mother. But today, I respond differently, "Yes mother, you tell me all the time." After the events of my mother turning into a bear, things have returned to normal. Well, as normal as they will ever get. "So tell me, Fergus, how are the vikings?" Her words turn to a bitter melody at the end, and we all know why.
Ever since mysterious men (who call themselves Vikings) arrived in our country, life has never been the same, for the country or for our family. My father, King Fergus, became stressed ever since the mysterious men arrived, and to avoid war he has aided them with food and supplies, hoping they might leave quickly and quietly. Mother, on the other hand, encourages me to get to know their prince of sorts. Even after the events that happened to her, she seems to have resorted back to her good old self once again without hesitation.
I take my seat at the table, examining my fathers expression as he responds. His face is stressed with wrinkles of age, and show is worries.
"They seem to be doing alright."
"Good." Mother responds, not wanting to disappoint our guests. I roll my eyes at it, at it all. Our kingdom has become tacky, small and insignificant. It is no wonder why mother wants me to marry and go back with the vikings to their home. The Triplets waddle into the room, quick with haste, as if a treat was to be found on the table this morning.
Luckily for them, there was a gracious amount of sweets waiting for them.
I smile, as I watch them dig into the small round cakes coated with cream and a cherry on top. "Boys!" Mother scolds, "Table manners." My brothers continue their eating habits, not even stopping to listen to mothers complaints. I giggle, placing a hand over my mouth so I would not get scolded by my mother.
"Fergus!"
My father and I burst into laughter almost simultaneously, and my mother glares daggers at us both, her cheeks puffing with her obvious anger at our childish behavior, as she states it. When the laughter dies down, my father finally grants my mother with a reply, "Oh Elinor, let the boys eat. If they wish to become big and strong they must eat anything in their sights!"
"And if they wish to become big and fat, they can keep eating Dundee cake*!" I boast.
My father chuckles at my statement, but my mother lets out a long, outstrung sigh to show her disappointment. I smile, never the less.
My fathers face lights up immediatly, and he begins to speak once more, "My! I forgot, did I ever tell you boys about the time I lost my leg?" He asked, a story we both loved. I glance to my younger brothers, who all had a bored expression. "Fergus, do you think now is really an appropriate time to tell that story?"
"Whats wrong with the time?"
"It's breakfast." Mother states, giving my father a rather smug look. My father sighes, "Fine. I suppose you boys want to play, so be gone with you." He said, raising a hand and making a sweeping motion towards them, and they almost ran out of the room like an arrow at light speed.
"Can I go to?"
"But what about your lessons today Merida?" My mother questions, raising an eyebrow at me. I had forgot, mainly because I did not want to remember in the first place, "Moooooommmmmm..." I whine, and I can see the amusement in my fathers face, reminding him of good times and great memories of when he still had his leg. That, or he was off in thought about my archery skills.
Mother looks me square in the face, and even though I am not sitting close to her this morning she still intimidates me, "Be back by sundown, you understand me? No talking to strangers either, if you are going into town." I nod at each statement, bobbing my head in excitement as she excuses me and I dart out of the room, nearly tripping on my blue satin dress.
I smile in relief as I run outside, my legs pumping as I run against the wind, feeling it sweep my hair backwards and out of my face.
When I crumble to the ground just outside of the castle, I writhe in the grass, grabbing the green locks of nature with my fists entangling my fingers in the grass. My eyes fluttered shut as I positioned myself on my back, taking in the smells, the sounds, all nature could ever possibly have to offer.
"Wow you have beautiful hair..."
My eyes snapped open as quickly as they closed, and I released my grip on the grass so I could sit up and turn to look at the person who I had heard, to see if they were honestly adressing me or not. There, standing above me was a boy medium length dark auburn hair and green eyes which gleamed with adventure.
"Where you talking to me?"
I stare at him, waiting for his reply. The boy nodded quickly, "Ofcourse! I wouldnt be talking to myself, and there isnt anyone for a good few yards from here." He states, and I look around. I had not noticed how far away from the castle I actually was, "Right, well then.." I pause, pushing myself up and dusting off my dress, which was stained beyond repair, "My name is Merida." I thrust my hand foreward, and he takes it, shaking it with glee.
"I am Hiccup."
"Hiccup?" I try not to giggle.
"Yeah..." Hiccup withdraws his hand, and rubs the back of his neck, letting out a frustrated sigh. I can tell something is wrong with him, so I ask, "How are you?" He looks at me, smiles and replies easily, "Oh fine. Just escaping my father." I laugh, and he raises an eyebrow, "What about you?"
"Escaping my mother."
"Ah.." Hiccup places his arms behind his back and connects them at the wrists nervously, I watch him, hoping to be able to put a face with a title. I had never heard of a Hiccup, or let alone anyone named Hiccup. "She wants me to marry, she wants me to be a proper lady, bla, bla bla." I complain, letting out a sigh as I fall back on the ground, pulling my knees against my chest and wrapping my arms around them. I somehow feel as if I can pour my heart out to the stranger.
"I know how it feels." Hiccup replies, sitting beside me, "Atleast you knew your mother." He whispers.
For a moment, I do not think I heard him correctly, and I look at him with my blue eyes, "What do you mean?" I ask. Hiccup looks at me and smiles nervously, shrugging, "Well you see, I never really knew my mother. I mean, she died when I was younger." He explained, and I suddenly felt a sting of regret, my mouth opening to speak, closing to avoid saying something stupid, and opening to speak again,
"Oh."
It was a lame excuse for a reply, but it was all I could think of that would not offend either of us.
"So where do you live?" He asks, switching the topic of our conversation. I repeatedly thank him mentally for finding something else to speak about, anything to speak about. "The castle." I reply, without putting much thought into my response as I watch him. The boy smiles, "The castle? So you are the princess Merida?" He asked.
"The one and only." I mutter.
"That means, your mother is the queen Elinor!" The words escape his mouth in a rather breathless fashion, as if he admired my mother, "Try not to get too excited." I spat, rolling my eyes at the puppy look he had on his face, "Oh come on! Your father is king Fergus! I have heard great things about your mother and father."
"Yeah well they arent so amazing in person as they are on paper."
Hiccup smiled, and nodded, "I feel the same with my father." He stated, and I look at him with a new found curiousity, "Who is your father?" I ask, trying not to probe too far into the boys life. Who even knows if we would ever see each other again. Fate was the only one to decide what happened to our newly found friendship.
"Stoick the Vast."
Hiccup imitated his father by pushing out his chest and putting on a rather funny face, which made me giggle before I came to realisation. "You mean Stoick the Viking?" I ask, almost scared to be in the presence of the boy now. Hiccup lets out a sigh, and his act falters along with his happy attitude, "Thats him."
Nervously, I try to keep my composure as I reach one hand up to my fiery red hair, my index finger entangling in one of the curls and tugging on it to keep me distracted.
"So you are one of the Vikings?"
"I wouldnt really consider myself one of them, since they dont really acknowledge me..." He explains, playing with the furr on his boots. I feel stupid for not noticing earlier. Everything about him was odd, his name, his hairstyle, and his clothing all seemed foreign to me, and belonged to no kingdom I knew.
But ofcourse, I didnt know the Viking Kingdom either.
I stood, suddenly feeling dizzy and sick, "I have to go." I say, as I start walking in the direction of my home, my kingdom. "Will I ever see you again?" I hear him say in the distance behind me, and I turn to face him, "We'll see what fate decides." I reply, before once again going on my way, this time quicker.
I feel like in a way I have betrayed my father, who has worried day and night about these very people. I imagine how angry he would be if he found me talking with one. Not just one viking, but their chieftain's son. Mother would have a fit, and nag me for days on end until the Vikings left or the subject died away. Who knows how long either outcome could take?
As I enter the castle's corridor which leads to the throne room, where my mother and father sit.
The inside decor has changed since I left, and is plastered with light colors such as blue and white, along with banners and other hanging cloth lined with white lace. The symbol of our kingdom is plastered on the banners that line the corridor, and shields decorate the walls along with hand stitched pictures my mother has done herself. Most of which show the family and legends of our kingdom.
I slow as I pass one in particular, of a woman who was changed into a bear and reaches out to a depiction of me, but it does not capture my true picture. My hair is not as wild as it is in reality, my dress is not torn as it was at the time of the event, and I do not have a bow slung on my back. Typical mother, not daring to include anything that would damage the reputation of the princess, I assume.
I continue walking until I enter the room that holds my mother and father, and I smile to them both as they usher me towards them, "Merida! Come here."
I approach my father and stop infront of them. I look between the two and they both smile at me, "We are holding a fair." My mother announced, before my father got the chance. He pouts and crosses his arms. "A fair?" I feel my face flush with anger. Of all times to have a fair, my parents have decided now!
"The Vikings should be pleased with a fair, and maybe they will leave all the sooner." My father boasted, meaning it was no doubt his idea.
"I have already started the preperations and I would hope that you would come." The queen, my mother, states. It was not a suggestion, it was a demand, "When is it?" I asked, trying to prepare myself.
"Tomorrow."
Dear lord what have I done. Please somebody stop me. Im going to ruin four perfect movies (you will understand next chapter.) I will also need multiple excuses for how to shove in future characters, which I will not say who'm I intend to add later. I regret putting this up in the first place, so if you do not like the story please do not say anything to worsen my spirits about this piece of work, it is disgusting enough without help.
Hahlmes
In the Holmes Language (which you will not find on google or any other site since this is a creation of mine) Hahlmes is the offical word for Holmes, and is pronounced Hall-m's.
Dundee cake
A famous fruit cake that originated in Scotland which contains currants, sultanas and almonds. This was originated when Mary, Queen of Scots wanted a cake. As you may know, Mary did not like cherries, so instead a fruit cake was presented to her with almonds instead of cherries. This will be an ongoing joke throughout the story.