You know what, I decided to continue this. I started on a second chapter, and I tried, I really did. The story, for some reason, felt that it was ended after about six-hundred words. So, I copied and pasted that small bit onto the first chapter, did some revising and editing, and here we are.
A special thank-you to Guest, whose anonymous review inspired me to write the last bit of this. You guys have no idea how much you mean to me. Seriously, if I'm taking forever (which I most likely will), just leave me a review saying you want the next chapter of whatever the story is. I'll get the motivation from your comment.
On this piece of work, I don't think I'll be updating again. This story is now complete. Thank you to all of you wonderful people. Have a wonderful day!
~~ooOOoo~~
Merida stared at her bow. Her string hung loosely from the wood, drooping in defeat. The string on her bow could not have just snapped on her like that. Not on Merida DunBroch, the archer famed for miles and the coach of Berk High School Archery, well-known as Scotland's best archery team. Gaping at the broken bowstring, her students stared in the same state of shock as she did. She let out a stream of vulgar words, before clapping her hands over her mouth and apologizing to her dumbstruck audience. In her embarrassment, she ended practice, sending her students home early so she could figure out what to do with her bow.
She looked down the dark hallway, the small streak of light from the open door at the end the only light. Thinking to herself, she realized that she was starting to hate this hall. Pushing open the door, she paused to straighten the Shop Class sign on it.
"Leave it to him to not fix that." she thought bitterly.
Merida looked in quickly, hoping the person wouldn't be there so she could just leave him a note. But no, her luck had run out. There he was, hammering away at a piece of metal on his anvil. Even worse, he had discarded his shirt due to the heat from the forge in the corner. Clearing her throat to gain his attention, she tried to ignore the fluttering feeling in her stomach.
"Just nerves from the bow snap." she told herself. "Nothing to do with him."
"Ah, if it isn't my favorite Scottish lass!" Hiccup called to her.
Pulling his shirt on, he headed over to her. "Is that dryer still holding up?" he asked.
"No, it's not holding anything up." she responded tartly.
The man chuckled, shooting her a lopsided grin before reaching for her bow. She reluctantly handed it over, and he inspected it with a scrutinizing glower.
"I assume that you need a new bowstring?" he asked, turning the weapon over. Merida nodded, determined not to talk to him.
"And I'll include a sanding, polishing, and tuning, free of charge." he said, poking fun at her somber attitude. "I'm not paying you anyways." she said flatly, sitting on the desk. "The school does."
Hiccup rolled his eyes at the pure stubbornness of the red-haired woman. His green eyes twinkled with mischief.
"Way to rain on the party, Princess." he said.
She shot up, her hair a frenzy around her face. Her blue eyes sparked. "Don't...ye...dare...call...me...princess." she whispered, fingers brandishing a penknife at his face.
He laughed at her murderous expression before taking her bow to the back of the shop. "I'll have it done for you tomorrow." he called over his shoulder.
Merida slapped the knife down with a huff, slamming the door as she left his classroom.
"Goodnight to you too." he said to the empty room.
Merida sat at her desk in the Home Economics room. This was a disaster. Fishing an Advil out of her drawer, she popped it in her mouth before drowning it with some cold coffee. Being a teacher sucked. There were the students, the extra work that no one ever got overtime for, the Board of Education, the crappy cheap supplies that had to be bought out of her own pocket money, and the fellow teachers. But there were also benefits, like the students, the extra work that was worth it in the end, the Board of Education, the good supplies that she managed to get her hands on, and the fellow teachers. She groaned, her brain grinding to a halt in confusion.
Why did he have to make her feel like this? Why did she have to be weak enough to let him make her feel that way? She groaned again, massaging her throbbing temples. There were times when she wished she could just call in sick, but duty prevented it.
"I must not back down from any challenge, no matter how much I want to." she told herself.
Shifting through the essays that her sixth hour had turned in the day before, Merida swigged her coffee again before setting down to grade them. Maybe she could catch up on her grading tonight.
The buzzing of her alarm was the first sound in Merida's day. Her hand snaked out from underneath the covers to shut it off, banging the snooze button. Wishing that her meager two hours of sleep could have been more, she clambered out of bed. Her bleary eyes were not enough to pick out her cat on the stairs. By the time her falling figure had reached the bottom, she was wide awake, and in pain.
Grumbling, she picked herself up and limped to the bathroom to take a shower and put on her makeup. Once finished, she managed to eat a bowl of oatmeal before tromping out to her car. It wouldn't start. Just perfect. The twelve-year-old Ford's engine coughed and sputtered, but made no move to allow her to drive it.
"Car troubles?" A familiar nasally voice called.
Hiccup. She spun around to face him, determined to tell him off for irking her.
"Here, let me help." he said, steering his bike into her driveway.
Brain whizzing, she tried to make sense of what she was seeing. "Bike? Hiccup the Useless could bike four miles to the school?" she thought.
Hiccup opened the hood, and tried to start the car again. It grumbled morosely at him. Listening intently, his eyebrows creased in thought.
"I wonder…" he muttered to himself.
The years in Shop had given him a knack for noticing things based on the noises they made. Fiddling with something in the engine, he gave it a good whack and the car coughed to life.
Merida spluttered. "Is that all I had to do?! Give the car a solid thump about the head?" she said, waving her arms.
Hiccup smirked at her. "I suggest you best be off; you don't want to be late, do you?"
Her mouth opened and closed as Hiccup pedaled off. She got in her car, and screamed in frustration. Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why did she have to put up with the prat? Why on God's green earth did she have to work with him in the same wing of the school?
Putting the car in gear, she drove to the school. She reached her classroom just as the first bell rang, having irritably pushed her way through the crowds of students. Four years of listening to those bells had taught her that her pupils wouldn't be coming through that door for another four minutes, when the second bell rang.
She hurried around, turning on the first oven to heat up the classroom. Merida sat down at her desk and did a quick calming exercise. The class was learning to run the washer today, so she figured that she would need all the patience she could muster.
Her first student trudged through the door, laden down with his books. Gustav Larson, the resident nerd of the high school. He sat down, waving cheerily at his teacher. She waved back, bustling over to turn off the oven. The room was warm enough now.
Getting the detergent from the closet, she asked Gustav if he could fetch the laundry basket from the far side of the room. He did so, grinning like a madman as Magnus entered.
As a teacher, Merida loved "shipping" certain people, and adjusted her seating charts accordingly. This couple was her Own True Pairing, even though Magnus was dating an idiot nick-named Dung. That relationship was doomed, she could tell. This imminent brakup also might have had a little bit of a push from Merida herself…
The two students sat down at a desk and started talking away happily. Watching them out of the corner of her eye, she turned on her overhead projector. It beeped, signaling it was on. Then, she sat down to finish the papers she was grading.
Merida's first sign of trouble was that her two students stopped talking and started giggling. She looked at them, fixing her number two glare on the two of them. The dissolved into laughter, turning away from her. Her brain went into in overdrive she tried to figure out the mystery in front of her.
"High scholars are so confusing, aren't they?"
Emitting a shriek, the teacher jumped in her chair. "Hiccup!" she shouted, spinning around to smack him. "Why on earth would you sneak up on me like that?!"
Shrugging, he pointed to Gustav and Magnus. The girl had fallen out of her chair, and was rolling around in laughter. Gustav had stopped breathing ages ago, and was now clapping his hands together like a seal. Mouth practically touching her desk, Merida watched the chaos unfold.
"See, told you so." Hiccup whispered in her ear.
Jumping again she turned to him, glaring.
"Is there any particular reason you are here, or are you just bent upon scaring me half to death?"
He smiled at her, reaching behind her back. Pulling out her bow, he set it on her desk. The wood practically shone from the polish, and the string was back like new. Her name had been etched in the handle, as well as a rune. She didn't know what it meant, but he obviously did.
"It's… It's..."
She tried to form coherent words while her brain drooled over the art of beauty that lay in front of her.
"Yeah, I know." Hiccup sighed. "It's kind of a rush-job. I wanted to get it done in time."
Her brain fumbled for a minute, processing what he had just said.
"You idiot! How could you say such a thing? I have never seen anything like it!"
Hiccup gawked at her. "Um, okay then. I...guess...I'll get going then. Yep, don't want to be late for my own class!" He gave a nervous chuckle, backing from her room.
The couple had taken their seats again, and were now animatedly gossiping in whispers.
"She really does like him, I'm telling you."
"I don't know. I know Hiccup likes her, though. He's as plain as day."
The words cut through her brain. Rage flared in her chest. Hiccup liked someone? Who did he like? And what bint dared like him back? No one could have her Hiccup!
Thunk. Merida froze, the plastic tote she had been carrying hitting the floor. Since when was he her Hiccup? Where did that thought come from? And was she jealous? Over someone she didn't even like?
"But you do like him." a voice in her head said. "You love Hiccup very much."
That voice sounded suspiciously like her mother. It was really, truly, annoying how much it sounded like her mother. And worst of all, it was right…exactly like her mother.
This realization did not help Merida at all throughout the school day. In fact, it distracted her so much that her students began asking her if she was quite all right. Her dazed answer did nothing to appease them.
By lunch, she was a mess. Even a washer overflowing onto the floor did not shake her from her stupor. For the first time in ages, she sat through the 'staff meeting' in silence. The other teachers in the lounger stared at her in shock. They had never seen the self-proclaimed loud-mouth this quiet before; she always has her two cents to add to the conversations. Normally, she would start a row just for the sake of arguing.
"-rida? Merida? Are you all right?" Hiccup's voice cut through her daze like a knife through butter.
She looked up. All of the teachers were looking at her expectantly.
"Um, I agree with that."
Uproarious laughter followed her statement. It became readily apparent that nothing was being agreed on.
Merida's face flushed a deep red. "Oh, how funny. We'll see how funny it is when I shove this apple down your throat!" she snapped.
Hiccup laughed and said something that no one caught. To her, it sounded dubiously like "There's my Merida." She glared at him, and his face reddened. She could guess her suspicions had been spot on.
Then she remembered earlier. The realization. Now it was her turn to flush a dark red. She couldn't really yell at him for what she thought he'd said, because she wasn't any better than he was. Shoving her food in her bag, she left the lounge.
Merida needed to think. The door to her room didn't make a sound as she opened it. Leaving the lights off, she plunked herself down at her desk and lay her head in her arms, thinking. Her thoughts immediately strayed to Hiccup, again. Traitorous brain.
So she ignored all Hiccup-related thoughts. The woman decided she needed some good, strong coffee. While she was rummaging around in her desk for some spare change to get an expresso from the vending machine, someone entered her classroom. And, of course, it was Hiccup. She inwardly groaned, but said nothing. He pulled up a chair and sat across the desk from her, waiting.
"Can I help you?" she growled out.
He seemed to puzzle his words out, before responding. "Are you all right? You seem...not quite yourself today."
Sighing, she closed her desk drawer and looked him in the eye. "I don't think you would understand."
"Try me."
She gave up. "The kids in my class seem to think that I like you."
"Are they right?"
This was like a game of chess. Plan ahead, she told herself. "Well, yes. But just as a friend."
His face betrayed nothing, but his eyes lost their sparkle. She was told enough. Check.
"And they seem to think that you like me."
Hiccup folded his hands. "Do you think they're right?"
"Don't know. What should I think?"
"Don't know."
"Well, it's your damn mind. I'd hope you knew if you liked me or not."
Even as she said it, hear heart didn't mean it. She would have been a hypocrite if she had. Even now, she had no idea of any of the tumult in her chest, other than it was worse-and better at the same time-when he was around.
"That wasn't quite the question though, was it?" he asked smirking.
"No, it wasn't." she answered. "The question was if you liked me or not."
She smirked as a blush erupted on his face and he tried to stammer out an answer.
"Well, I-I mean, that wouldn't b-be professional, or-or right. I mean-"
"Hiccup, do us all a favour, and shut up and kiss me already."
His eyes went wide, but he did as he was told.
In the hallway, two kids turned to each other and high-fived. They went skipping down the hallway, arm in arm.
This, is Berk High. It's a psychologist short of a loony-bin, and a few degrees off being a college. It's located solidly on the brink of insanity. The students shipped the teachers, and the teachers, likewise. The only good thing? These ships were often the most accurate of them all.
