It was a cool day, for summer, with a gentle wind that blew like a sweet song through the meadows and the glen. The trees swayed to the tune, waving to the clouds that floated lazily through the sky. The tall grasses flowed about the figure of a young woman like emerald waters, and her hair flickered like the fire it so closely resembled. Pale blue eyes stared up at the sky they so blatantly mocked and a tiny smile danced about the corners of a sweet mouth.

Merida loved days like this. Angus grazed happily nearby and all about her nature sang Its own praises, praises she never tired of. It was one of the rare days her mother allowed her out of her lessons. It wasn't nearly as terrible as it was before, she and her mother saw eye-to-eye far more often now since the "Bear Incident", but Merida still loved her freedom. Angus clopped over to her and nudged her face gently with his nose. Merida grinned when he did it again.

"Alright, ye great beasty." He nosed her once more and she laughed loud and clear. "Git!" She giggled as she swiped at one of his massive legs. He snorted and squealed and pranced away from her, clearly playing back. Merida laughed and rolled onto her feet and lunged at her horse. Angus leapt to the side but Merida was faster, and soon she had a fist-full of mane and was hauling herself onto his back. He ran and she whooped loudly throwing her arms into the air in joy.

Oh yes, she loved days like this.

But then she heard them, the welcoming drums and panic seize her heart. The Games were closing in again, and the lords and their sons were arriving. Merida goaded Angus into a gallop as they tore through the glen back to the castle. She leapt off his back mid-lope and landed hard in the dusty stables. She was off running before a servant could ask about her well-being, and tearing through the castle like a dervish. Only a few caught the, "Crivens, mum's gonna kill me!" as she raced past.

She skidded to a stop as she threw open one of the many side-doors to the main hall and was instantly pinned in place by a stare from her mother. Oh yes, her mother had loosened her hold over the years, but she was still a lady and demanded nothing less from Merida.

As Queen Elinor stared at her wayward child she couldn't help the sigh that escaped her lips. Merida looked a mess, with bright green leaves of grass sticking from her hair and a fine coating of dust on her long dress. She flicked her wrist, motioning for Merida to come forward, who did, like one condemned. Elinor dusted her child off quickly, removed the bow and quiver from her, and plucked as much grass from her hair as she could in the scant few moments they had.

"They're a-comin'!" One guard shouted before he ducked out of the way of the door. He'd learned his lesson long ago. Merida barely had time to throw herself into her seat and try to arrange herself like a Lady before the three other clans came tromping in like a great herd of turtles. Merida smiled at Lord Dingwall when he didn't demand a stool to stand on.

"M'lords!" Her father boomed coming to his feet, a wide smile stretching across his lips. "Welcome to the Games! Ehh, uhm," He faltered and Elinor stood with a sweet smile as she took her husband's hand in her own.

"We are honoured by your presence with this the annual games." She smiled up at Fergus who looked sheepish.

"Oh aye!" Merida smiled at her parents and her eyes sparkled like little gems. She looked about at all the assembled men and smiled when she saw the sons of the Lords. Despite the embarrassment she'd put them through, the Queen's decision allowed the four of them to become fast friends.

She looked to Faelan, Wee Dingwall, first and winked at him, causing the short man to smile back at her widely. He hadn't changed much in the three years since their first meeting, but that comforted Merida in a way. Still short and somewhat squishy, his hair still stood high atop his head, and his eyes were always heavily lidded, as if his thoughts were far away, which, generally, they were. Merida knew, however, that that look only served to hide a surprisingly keen and tactical mind. Faelan wrote her letters constantly, telling her of his home and his peoples. Of training and battles and glory. He was a stable and steady friend, which she appreciated in her hectic life.

She allowed her gaze to slide over to Logan, the younger McIntosh, and stifled a giggle at his show of flexing muscles. He, also, hadn't changed much, but now he flounced about like lordly lion in order to make her smile and laugh. She'd discovered a charming sense of humour in the young man through their letters, few though they were. When he wasn't being a goof he was generally asking her advice about girls he fancied (granted it was generally a different girl with each letter he sent), but Merida never minded. Logan had finally begun to fill out his form a bit. He'd never be broad, but his muscles were well defined, and his shoulders and chest were filling out nicely. He had finally pulled his luxurious locks back into a queue, but that only accentuated his chisled face more. He still looked like the lad she'd first met, but the man was slowly, oh so slowly, working his way to the surface. She stuck her tongue out at him and he mockingly clutched his chest as if she'd just wounded him. She had to turn away before she burst into raucous laughter.

Her gaze finally landed on Bradach McGuffin and her smile turned sweet and genuine. His letters came the most, and in them she'd found a great companion. They shared so many likes and interests they never seemed to run out of anything to talk about. And it was lovely to finally be able to understand him some when he spoke. Her grasp on Gaelic and Doric was tenuous at best, but he slowly coached her on pronunciation and she was, slowly, getting it. His smile was timid and a blush slowly flamed his cheeks and Merida's smile grew. Bradach had only changed in his appearance. His rounded young face had begun to take on more adult angles, and he was altogether losing the roundness of youth. His hair (wild, but nowhere near the caliber of hers) was pulled back into a single short braid, and she could see his eyes as clear as day. Still the pale, lovely blue.

"Merida, kindly show the Lairds and their sons to their rooms." Her mother was saying, jerking Merida from her thoughts. She smiled and jumped from her seat and with a swish of her skirts, was bowing before aforementioned Lords and sons.

Lord McIntosh blinked and stared at the princess. "Wha-? The princess? A servant-" He began but the Queen cut him off with a smile.

"Poor Maudie isnae feeling well. Besides, I'm sure Merida would enjoy getting a little chance to catch up with her friends, aye?" She said gently and the lords grumbled their replies. "Perhaps, my lords, you'd prefer to stay and celebrate your arrival for a time?" She offered and Merida hid a grin at the trinkle in her mother's eye. To this there was a much more jovial response and Merida and the lads whisked away to a, slightly, more private setting.

"How was the trip?" Merida asked as she waved down a servant, asked for cakes and ale, and plopped down on one of her da's overstuffed chairs. Faelan situated himself in another chair and absently plucked at a wayward string.

"Oh, fine. Water as smooth as glass." He grinned. "I was sick as a dog. Poor da thought I was dyin'. Give me choppy water any da, but smooth, nay thanks." He shook his head and Merida smiled in sympathy.

Logan jerked a chair up next to hers and she playfully glared at him as he flopped down and stretched out. "Bit o' rough weather, but all's well." he said folding his arms across his flat stomach, and flexing. Merida merely rolled her eyes and shook her head. Her gaze flicked to Bradach as he hovered over a chair, it was evident he was wondering if it would support his weight. Merida bounced up and motioned to her own chair.

"If it'll hold my da, you'll be just fine." She said happily as she flounced off to perch on a stool and hide her smile from Logan who huffed.

"Thank ye." He offered as he settled his body into the cushy furs. The chair didn't even groan under his bulk, for which he was very grateful. "Our trip was uneventful. Quiet, which is nice, I don' like rough winds. I don' like being at sea." He said softly, slowly, as he deliberately enunciated each word so his friends could understand.

"Lucky you, ye can stay a while, ye ken?" Faelan said and they all nodded.

"So what events are ye competing in?" Merida begged of the boys and suddenly Faelan looked bashful. "Wee lamb?" She asked, her former taunt having become a sweet nickname for her quiet friend.

"I'm, no' competing." He muttered and Merida tilted her head to the side. "During the last skirmish in our lands, and arrow grazed my knee and it hasn't been quite right since. The doctor says it'll be fine, but it doesnae feel that way." Merida patted his shoulder gently and offered a kind smile.

"Ye'll be right as rain in no time." She suddenly gave a brilliant smile. "Ye can sit with me and heckle these two!" She cheered and Logan and Bradach groaned loudly. Faelan's smile was tenuous at best and she continued to pat his shoulder.

"Ye're no' competing?" Young MacGuffin asked softly and Merida lowered her gaze.

"Nae, not this time. Mum insisted I be a spectator this time 'round." She smiled softly and all three lads seemed a bit putout to hear such a thing. Logan glanced about and sighed softly. He tossed Merida his best smirk and wiggled his eyebrows.

"Well, I'll be competing in archery, again." He preened at Merida who raised and eyebrow. "I've been practicing." He boasted and flexed his shoulders as if to demonstrate and Merida pinched his side, causing him to yelp and pull away. She cackled at him and nearly fell off her stool.

"Oh aye, I'm sure the ladies will love to fawn all over ye again!" She pranced up and mimicked holding a bow aloft. "'Ah got it!'" she crowed and the lads burst out laughing. Logan shook his head and chuckled.

"I'll never live that down, eh?" He asked and Merida shook her head, sending her hair flying wild, with a large smile on her face. "You're the devil, Ruadh." He teased and she made a face at him. "Well, I'll also be doing the stone put." He stood then and struck several poses, showing off his growing muscles. "I have to show what I can do." He chuckled as he flexed and strutted.

"Oh no, the competition." Bradach dead-panned and they all laughed harder.

"Ye're competing?" Logan balked as his arms dropped, uselessly, to his sides. "That's not fair!" He wailed and flopped down into his seat. Bradach dropped a heavy hand to his shoulder in sympathy, but merely succeeded in nearly engulfing the young McIntosh.

"Ye'll be fine." He chuckled and patted gently. "At least ye're not throwing cabers as well. I'd hate to beat you at two events." Logan groaned and Bradach grinned. Merida was happy to see some confidence in the lad finally.

The four talked into the wee hours of the morning, joking and laughing, teasing and giggling as the night gave way to day. They all finally retired when eyelids drooped into sleep, and Merida fell asleep against Bradach's shoulder. Logan smirked at his giant friend as he tried to rouse the princess to no avail. She was a sound sleeper. He looked helpless for a moment as he silently pleaded to two other heirs for help, but neither complied and whisked out the door with hurried "Good night"s.

Bradach sighed.

He stared down at the sweet face of the princess and felt a smile tug at his lips. She'd matured, through the years, and though her coloring was all her da, her features gave way to her fair-faced mother. He sighed and slipped his broad hands under her legs and around her back and tucked her slight weight to his chest. She curled into him slightly, her fingers curling into his tartan as he strode down the hall towards to royal rooms. At the first servant he found he spoke quickly, his Doric lilt marring his words and making him hard to understand. At the blank stare he received he sighed.

"The princess's chambers?" He asked simply and the servant nodded and moved down the hall. She stopped in front of a door and pushed it open for him. He nearly had to duck inside and paused at the sight of her large bed. There were notched hacked into the thick posters and he chuckled at her temper. He laid her gently on the bed and couldn't resist the urge to fan her hair over her pillow. He stepped away and the servant hurried forward to get her lady ready for bed. He slid out the door and closed it gently behind himself. He was met by both Logan and Faelan.

"Whut?" He asked as he stepped to move past his friends. Logan gave him a wry smile.

"You're smitten." He accused and Bradach felt his face flame.

"Ah'm-"

"Oh aye, ye are! Don't think we cannae see." Faelan chimed in and Bradach groaned.

"Dinae fash yersel." Bradach grumbled. "Bleeter on liek a bairn, ye both." He groused but they both only grinned at him.

"Ye, ah, ye slipped into Doric." Logan snickered and Faelan chuckled. Bradach straightened up a bit and huffed.

"Go tae bed." He grumbled, face red as Merida's hair, and pushed past the lads towards his own rooms. Raucous laughter followed after him and he resisted the urge to hide his face in his hands.

AN:/ Greetings dear ones! A new story? Yes I know, I'm terrible, but I'm in so much love with Brave, and my Scottish roots called to me, I had to. This will be a short little story, a fluffy really. At least that's the plan, sometimes things change. For now, enjoy the delicious Celtic goodness! Ok, I know Doric isn't an accent, it's a language all it's own. Forgive my slip up!

By the way, I do not own these characters, their movie, or anything like that. All is beholden unto Disney and Pixar.