A/N: Brave, its characters, and its images are ©Disney Pixar.

Merida still has a lot of growing up to do, poor lass. As they say, it's lonely at the top – in more ways than one. As an aside, I'd put Young MacGuffin at eighteen in the movie, so he would be twenty in this story.

A huge thank you to the reviewers! Your encouragement always makes it worth posting. :) And to all the readers, I'm so very glad you're joining me on this journey. Every one of you is greatly appreciated, and I hope you continue to enjoy my little offering to the fan-fiction world.

The Bow and the Stone

Book 1: Dragon Rising

Ch 3: Vane and Grace

At the eastern corner of the castle, where the forest and the sea met with particularly dramatic cliffs and steep, tree-covered knolls, Merida had meticulously plotted a new archery range. She was enormously proud of it: the targets were placed at varying distances deep among the trees and rocks, some of them swinging freely on tethers or tucked into tiny crevices. Between the shifting light, the constant gusts of wind, and the seemingly ever-changing terrain, she considered herself suitably challenged.

The aftermath of the witch's magic had given her a great deal to think about, and she was determined to best at least one of those hard-learned lessons: Always make the shot.

Always.

This range was, of course, nothing compared to the paces she'd set for Angus – but she couldn't well race around heath and forest, firing arrows, while an extra three clans wandered the castle lands.

Chances are she'd really incite a war, this time.

Early on the morning of the games, before the sun had even peeked over the surrounding mountains, Merida had escaped to her private range, bow in hand and a quiver full of arrows on her hip. The smooth yew limb she held was a balm to her tired mind, and the feel of every fine grain and slight imperfection was as familiar as an old friend. She savored the quiet morning for a moment, staring out over the sea loch and listening to the far off call of gulls and low rush of water. Finally, she retreated from the cliff++++++++++++'s edge and settled into a familiar stance, nocking an arrow and drawing back in one fluid motion.

And then, with a prickle along the back of her neck, she realized she was being watched.

After smooth release, and the accompanying thud of metal sinking into wood, Merida turned to face her visitor, a little well of irritation bubbling up inside her – only to feel it immediately die away. At the lee of the castle, where the shadows were still deep enough to nearly hide her, stood one of Lord MacGuffin's daughters, gaping in apparent wonder at Merida's shot. Merida recognized her as the lass who'd been so interested in last night's dinner stories.

"'Ello, there," she called.

The girl didn't move. She did, however, continue to gape.

Merida stifled a sigh. "Well, come on out, then. I don't bite."

Slowly, the lass stepped into the spreading morning light, thankfully no longer gaping, but still obviously nervous – or perhaps terrified; Merida couldn't really tell. She was a slightly-built girl, pale and blue-eyed, with hair the color of straw. Merida was almost certain she was in her tenth year, but again marveled at how tiny she was compared to the men in her family ... and apparently just as shy as her brother.

But then the girl spoke, quickly dispelling that belief. "I'm so sorry, m'lady! I was told by that herald – Dorrell, but a'course, you already know yer own herald – that you'd built yerself a fine range, even though you t'were a lady an' all – no, I'm sorry, yer more than a lady, yer the princess! And that you go ridin' in the forest, like a wild beast was a-chasin' ya, and you couldn't ever be caught, like a real warrior! But he said you'd built this, 'ere, a'course, and how clever it was, that you was to be the best archer in all the land—"

Merida, slightly dumbfounded by the amount of chatter the little thing was capable of (especially this early in the morning), could only stare as the girl began to walk to and fro, still just on the outer edges of the castle's shadow. Her arms waved emphatically with every point she made – or attempted to make.

"—And then I saw you leave the gates, and I thought to meself, here's a perfect chance to see the warrior princess, and I won't be told to go back and act like a proper lady, 'cos me mum is still a-bed – I'm to have another brother or sister, y'know – but me da thinks it's a fine idea to learn to fight, and me brother, a'course, he's strong as a bull, and he can't stop talking about you—"

Merida winced. It was hard to imagine the girl's brother talking about much of anything – let alone, about her. She held up her hands, hoping the girl would at least pause for breath. She had the sudden sensation that she was attempting to stop an oncoming storm.

"Oh 'eavens, me brother! He'll be so embarrassed to 'ear me talkin' this way – to you! He thinks you've got the right of it, an' a right an' proper princess – an' one day queen o' our lands – God bless yer mum, Queen Elinor, a'course! He thinks yer quite the—"

"Stop!" Merida yelled, starting to feel a bit panicky. The girl halted mid-word, her mouth still open, although from shock or wounded sensibilities, Merida wasn't sure.

"Ah." With another burst of panic, Merida realized she had no idea what the girl's name was. The clans' entire families never came to court; that was left to the emissaries or the lords themselves. And while she vaguely recalled sitting through her mother's lessons about the extended families – well, she certainly didn't remember anything about them.

She then realized she was holding her hands together at her chest, just like her mother did, and immediately dropped them to her side.

Merida forced herself to be cheerful. "Well! You, ah, found me," she finished lamely, and then tentatively went on, "I'm sorry, lass, but I don't recall your name."

The girl giggled, obviously not the slightest bit insulted. "Elvina. Me da' says that means 'young warrior,' and I think it fits quite fine, although I donnae know what I'll think of it when I'm old like me mum!" She giggled again, and Merida couldn't help but join her. The girl's good cheer was infectious.

Unfortunately, Merida still couldn't escape the awkwardness of it all. She highly doubted she'd get any peace, now – and it would be ridiculously uncomfortable to have the wide-eyed girl watching her while she practiced.

But she had no idea what to do with the child. While her little brothers adored her – and she adored them – there weren't many children around the castle that she'd gotten to know. It didn't help that most mothers in the clan considered her a wild hellion to be avoided at all costs – which had included girls her own age when she was a wee lass, but that was beside the point. "So, ah. Do you know much about archery?"

"Oh yes!" Elvina latched onto the subject and prattled on about her experiences around the MacGuffin lands, while Merida attempted to follow the girl's rather erratic train of thought. Her enthusiasm was endearing.

"Well, then," Merida hurriedly interjected when Elvina finally paused for breath, "would you, er, like to have a go?"

The girl's eyes widened almost comically. "'ere? With you?" Her squeal of delight nearly deafened Merida.

Laughing a bit, and resisting the urge to rub her still-smarting ears, the princess nodded. "There's no one else 'round here, is there? Now come on. Me brothers might say differently, but I really don't bite."

Elvina giggled (again) as she trotted to Merida' side, and together, they turned back to the range.

"Now," Merida said as she unhooked her bow from her arm. "Has your da ever told you the secrets to shooting with a bow 'n arrow?"

Elvina shook her head vigorously.

"All right then," Merida said, holding out her bow. The girl eyed it hesitantly. "Go on, get ready to shoot."

Elvina cautiously took hold of the bow, then the arrow Merida offered, and then stepped back into a proper stance. Merida nodded in approval. The girl had none of that ridiculous posture her brother had used two years before.

"Now," she said, crouching to the girl's level and looking to the target she'd focused on. It was the closest and most obvious, hanging from an unusually long, over-reaching tree limb close to the cliff. It also had a tendency to swing wildly. Merida had chosen its spot for just that reason: there was a funnel effect from the cliffs below and the surrounding rocks, making it difficult to time a shot just right. "You see how that target moves back and forth? On that one, you've got to watch everything 'round it, and listen to the wind on the cliffs, to know when to shoot." She pointed at the feathery tufts of grass below it. "See how the grass moves with the wind? You'll see the wind coming that a-way."

Merida watched as the girl's arrow-point began to move side to side in an attempt to keep up with the target. "Now – slow down, and don't move your aim right now. But keep watching the target, and where it goes." She paused, nodding with satisfaction as the arrowhead stilled and Elvina's focus steadied.

"Alright, then. The first secret to archery is this: always imagine your arrow's flight first, before you release it." Elvina glanced dubiously at Merida, who nodded toward the target. "I'm not fibbing you. Go on, look."

The girl obediently returned her attention to the swaying plank of wood.

"Now, make a picture in your head."

Elvina actually closed her eyes. Merida bit back a laugh.

"Remember how everything was moving? Now, think about how you're to get your arrow where you want it to go, even though it's moving. Think about how it has to fly, and how far it has to go."

Elvina, her eyes still scrunched shut, adjusted her aim slightly.

"And then … when you open your eyes, time it with the wind you see, and … let go."

Elvina's eyes popped back open but held steady on her chosen mark. Merida could see the girl funnel all of her concentration into the arrow poised above her bow hand. And then … released.

And actually hit the mark. Or, at least, the outer white ring.

"I did it!" she shrieked, arms shooting into the air.

Merida quickly ducked out of the way. "You did!" she agreed, laughing.

"Aye," called another voice.

Merida nearly jumped out of her skin in shock, but Elvina simply whirled around and dashed to the new arrival, waving Merida's bow ecstatically over her head. "'Eirin!"

"Aye," her brother said again, catching Elvina as she threw herself into his arms. She squealed in delight as he perched her atop his shoulder. "Iah've been a-lookin' fuhr you, ken? Ma hais been a-worryin' ab'ut you."

Elvina launched into her apparently characteristic chatter, relating her morning's tale up to that point. "—An' I've been practicin' now with the princess! She's been so nice – an' taught me a secret to shootin' arrows!"

"Oh, she did, aye?" Aneirin glanced at Merida, who was hoping her heartbeat would eventually return to normal. For a big guy, he was quiet on his feet – and Merida didn't like to be surprised. "Weill, then," he went on, setting Elvina back on the ground. "Go on an' tell mum you've a-been with tha' princess, an' that'll be that."

"Wait a moment," Merida called, stepping carefully through the rock-strewn weeds to join brother and sister. "Now for the second secret." She pulled an arrow out of her quiver and, crouching to look Elvina in the eye, gravely handed it to her. "Practice. And then practice some more."

The girl nodded earnestly before breaking into giggles. Merida found herself chuckling, too, but stopped after catching sight of the odd expression on Aneirin's face.

He touched Elvina's shoulder. "Wot d'ye say to th' princess, lassie?"

The girl immediately dropped into a practiced curtsy. "Thank you, m'lady!"

Merida gave what she hoped was a graceful half-bow in return. "Of course, and you're always well-come." She grinned at her and added, "It was quite lovely to meet you, Elvina."

With that, the girl blushed, her smile wide and radiant, before dashing off – only to dash back after a moment to return Merida's bow. Aneirin shooed the girl on, but made no move to leave, himself.

Merida smiled briefly at Aneirin, rather satisfied with how that went. If being a princess meant odd little moments like that, she thought she might be able to handle it all quite cheerfully. She swung her bow around her shoulder and made her way back toward her range. If she hurried, she could still get a set of shots in before her mother started searching for her. Besides, she felt no compunction to entertain Aneirin; unlike his sister, he could very obviously look after himself.

But as she drew another arrow and set her aim at one of her furthest targets, she realized she'd never been alone with any of the young men who had once been her suitors – and, according to their fathers, still were her suitors. It was rather unnerving.

"Eihmpressive."

Merida assumed he meant her range and felt a small glow of pride. "Aye," she said, her eye still on the target – and then a release that sent the arrow's metal tip deep into the outer red ring. "I built all this meself."

Aneirin appeared at her side, and she barely stopped herself from flinching in surprise. The man was rather absurdly silent when he moved. "Weill, thaht too," he mused. "But I was talkin' 'bout me sister. She doesnae focus too weill. Wheneve' she takes her arrow'n'bow, we all 'ide behin' thick walls."

Merida huffed for the girl's sake and gestured to Elvina's arrow, now twirling slowly with its mark. "She doesn't seem so bad at it."

Aneirin laughed aloud at that. "Yer her princess. She'd liked as to fly off'n those cliffs fer ye."

Merida rolled her eyes.

"'Tis true, princess," he added softly.

"All right, then." She sent another arrow away, this time into the red eye of Elvina's target. "So. I take it more goes on the dinner table than planned, whenever she goes practicing on the range?"

Aneirin chuckled. "Aye. Ev'n the dogs know tae run from 'er."

They both laughed, and a comfortable silence settled between them as Merida continued to shoot, walking here and there, firing arrows into planks set high between tree limbs, or barely peeking between rocks, or swinging with every breath of air.

"Ye should set some down thehre," he said after a while. Merida glanced up from her current mark – a particularly tiny one set under a heather-crowned hillock. Aneirin had moved to the cliff's edge and was staring down at the sun-touched loch.

"Sorry?"

He nodded toward the water. "Thehre – where'n those stones 're. Whenever th' Vikings come, ye'll need t' 'ave practice shootin' 'em from above."

Merida felt a brief flush of embarrassment for not having considered that herself. She strode to his side and peered down at the stones in question. They thrust out of the loch like fingers, white foam flowing around them as the current swept by. "Aye, that's a good thought." She peeked up at him, only to find him watching her with that same odd expression on his face. She noticed for the first time that he seemed less like a boy now, complete with a beard that was far more than just peach fuzz – although he certainly didn't have the amount of hair his father did. He was as massive as ever, but without that child-like roundness she remembered from years past. "Thank ye. I'll take a boat out tomorrow."

"'Ave you evehr taken a boat out in the loch, 'afore?"

The dubious note in his voice sent her temper flaring immediately. "No – but no matter. I can do it."

Aneirin shook his head. "No man goes al'ne out there – 'tis too much danger." He held up his hand as Merida opened her mouth to argue, hurrying on, "Even th' most experienc'd seamen don' go alone. An' you'd honor me, if ye'd let me help ye, princess."

"Ah—oh." The words that had formed – that he really should mind his own – died on her lips. They sounded churlish even unspoken. "Thank you."

Merida turned away, intent on escaping to her room. The morning really hadn't gone as planned, and she wasn't sure what she thought about that.

"Wait!" he called, and when she looked back, he was digging through the sporran at his belt. And then, with a delicacy that belied his massive hands, he plucked out a bit of silver. "Ye know, ken, all kinds come through'n th' mount'ns. A smithy came t' me with 'is, 'ere. I meant ta' give 'is to ye las' night, but wit' yer brothers an' all..." He trailed off and shrugged his wide shoulders.

In his palm rested the amulet she'd sold to the witch. The metal disk gleamed in the sunlight, and the bears' emerald eyes winked with startling familiarity.

Merida, for the second time in too few hours, was speechless. But unlike the last, this felt like a physical blow. It seemed the sum of all her foolish choices rested on that charm – and the threat she'd brought not just to her father's kingdom, but to the people she loved most. Two years wasn't nearly long enough to dull the excruciating vividness of that incident. It also seemed an odd storm of coincidences was bringing back the worst of those memories.

She really wasn't sure she'd ever wanted to see that charm again.

She then realized he was holding it out to her, obviously expecting her to take it. As a gift. From a suitor. A warning flared in her mind. "I, ah—" she stuttered. "I donnae – I mean, a suitor—I'm not rea—" She stumbled into silence, staring at the trine of bears.

She saw something akin to pity flash in his eyes as he reached out and took one of her hands. He tipped the amulet into her palm, where it seemed to burn against her skin. "That's not why I'm givin' 'is to ye," he said, his voice unnervingly gentle. "Yer my princess, too, ye ken?"

With that, and as the far off horns of the games began to blow, he turned and quickly disappeared around the castle's moss-covered walls, leaving Merida to stare after him, feeling more than a little unsettled.