Author's Note: To the Guest that left the question… I am, in all honesty, not sure. I had my first real crush my first year of high school, and that relationship was what allowed me to discover who I was. You'll see how some of my experiences make their way into this story. I don't know anyone who is 100% confident with who they are, but you have to do what is right for you. Stay safe, don't be afraid of trying new things, and take your time. You'll find out who you are when you're ready. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask!


Chapter 4: Archery


They always called her cold. Some people event went as far as to use the word 'frigid'. Elsa was naturally cold towards others. It was just how she acted. And she was perfectly okay with that. Calculating didn't require warmth or outgoingness.

It wasn't that she was determined to be friendless, either. She just didn't care to have many friends. Elsa reasoned that she needed an education more than she needed drunken college parties, and a job more than she needed a girl's night out. Though, even a girl's night out was seeming more appealing than attending an archery competition in the pathetic hope that she could see the very last person she should be seeing.

Elsa was uncomfortably tense on a bleacher in the middle of the huge gymnasium, glancing around for any sign of the red curls she'd grown so used to spotting. On the one hand, seeing Merida meant admitting defeat. She was only there to see her, after all, and that really wasn't the kind of thing a teacher should do, right? On the other, seeing Merida would be a welcomed comfort among all the strangers in the crowd, who were only making Elsa weary.

Then she spotted a different familiar face. She shouldn't have been so surprised, but the thought hadn't crossed her mind before. Seeing Merida's mother caught her off guard. Elinor smiled and approached her.

"Ms. Queen," the woman greeted her. In Elinor's presence, Elsa felt that she was undeserving of such a royal name. Elinor had stern, regal elegance that vastly outweighed her own. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Oh, 'Elsa' is fine." Elsa said, sitting up straighter. "It's kind of funny; your daughter actually brought it up to me. I would have missed out otherwise."

Elinor regarded her curiously.

"You're a fan of archery?"

"Oh yes. You know, there is a lot of calculating involved. And Merida and I could try to apply what she knows here in the classroom."

Elinor seemed pleased with that answer.

"I'm so thankful you've offered to tutor her." She took the empty spot beside the teacher, who feared that meant she'd have to keep up this conversation for a long time. The answer she had given was one she'd spent a lot of time forming the night before as justification for why she was there. No one could know that she just wanted to make Merida happy.

"It's no trouble. I want to see her do well."

"So do I. She keeps insisting that she doesn't need schooling and that she can figure things out as she goes, but I worry about her."

"She is very smart," Elsa said, trying not to sound as wretched as she felt.

"With her mouth, maybe," Elinor joked. Elsa could agree with that. Merida was always trying to get her to blush or stutter or laugh. She'd make quips left and right and give a cute little satisfied smirk. Elsa bit her tongue. They weren't cute. They were infuriating! No, not that either. She should just be ignoring them. Somehow that seemed impossible.

"Ah, there she is," her mother said, eyes on her daughter. At first Merida's face lit up with excitement upon seeing Elsa, but she wavered slightly noticing her mother sitting next to her. She gave a little wave. Once she turned away, however, she transformed. She became completely focused on her target. Elsa felt herself leaning forward, wanting to watch her closer. She'd never seen Merida so focused. It was a sharp contrast from her typical laid back attitude. Elsa admired her deeply for that attitude, despite her attempts at controlling it as the adult world had dictated she should. In all honesty, the last thing she wanted to do was force Merida to go back to her classes or scold her for slacking off. All of her life Elsa had been told to be the good girl. Do your homework, eat your vegetables, and sit up straight. Then complete your lessons, finish these problems, work harder, and harder, and harder. It was order after order from her father, and she succumbed to the stress, letting it consume her. So when she saw how free everything about Merida was, from her wild hair to her burning desires to break the mould, Elsa felt a longing to be a part of that freedom. Where others might immediately label Merida as lazy or foolish, Elsa saw her as brilliant. She was determined to live life the way she wanted, and not by the rules of others. But the very nature of their relationship, that of teacher and student, carried a terrible taboo with it and the inability to get too close. Getting too close surely spelled disaster. So she watched from a distance, quietly enthralled as Merida's strong grip pulled the taut bowstring back to her cheek. Elsa's breath caught in her throat as she waited for the young woman to release the arrow. When she did, it sailed home into the target, and Merida's coy smirk sent Elsa into a quiet panic. With Elinor just beside her she remained as stoic and unaffected as possible, despite the butterflies threatening to fly right out of her stomach.

"Is she always this good?" Elsa asked casually. Elinor nodded.

"Aye. Her father taught her when she was just a wee one. Not my preference, of course, but she does love it."

"What was your preference?" Elsa prodded.

"Dancing. But can you imagine her in a tutu?" Elinor laughed. Honestly, Elsa couldn't picture it. A basketball jersey, a football getup, a swimsuit- those were all things Merida could wear in her mind's eye. But Merida was not the kind to prance around lightly or daintily. Another thing she admittedly liked about her.

Merida ended up winning the tournament for her age range, which came as no surprise to her. In tournaments like these, standing still and shooting a target with hardly any pressure was easy. She claimed the other competitors thought too hard about it all, and that she could face those in the older categories with no trouble. She and Elsa stood off to the side of the gymnasium, a safe distance apart as she explained this.

"Thanks for coming to see me, by the way," Merida said with a particular shine in her eyes.

"It was fun," Elsa replied, returning the smile gently. "You make it look so simple."

Merida shrugged humbly.

"You make math look simple."

"But that's my job."

"Not everyone is good at their job."

Elsa couldn't argue with that. In fact, she knew she wasn't very good at her job beyond being able to relate mathematics to her students. After all, most decent teachers had the sense not to relate themselves to their students quite as much as she was with Merida. Elsa was about to say more when Elinor came up and gave her daughter a hug. The teacher stood there awkwardly as Merida squirmed.

"Mum, cummoan," she groaned, clearly embarrassed.

"Och, shush. It's not often I get to see you do these things. I'm proud of you!"

Merida rolled her eyes despite the small smile playing at her lips as she managed to break free. Elsa felt uneasy watching the scene. Not moments ago she had been daydreaming about Merida's strength and now she was being fussed with by her mother. Her mother. Elinor expected Elsa to be a trustworthy figure, not a young woman harboring a hopeless crush on her daughter. She wrung her hands nervously.

"Well, I have to get going." She lied. There was nowhere else for her to be, but that was the least of her issues. "It was nice seeing you again." She gave her best teacher grin to Elinor and turned on her heels, starting for the door.

Elsa wondered what she'd gotten herself into. Sure, she and Merida had only hinted to one another their interest in having a relationship- whatever that meant. There had been some casual, albeit outright, flirtation. There were stolen glances between them that no one else would understand. But wouldn't it be best for her to forget about it? To tell Merida that this couldn't happen? They couldn't happen. As she sat in her car, Elsa let her forehead rest against her steering wheel and sighed. If only it were that easy to let her go.