Butch
The night air was biting and the waves were being uncooperative. Many were praying to Thor for safe passage. If the thunderstorm going on above them was any indication, it was going to be an ugly night.
But that wasn't what had Butch's attention. He was sitting alone in the tent, half his body inside and relatively warm and his other half was getting soaked by the rain. He had his head titled to the side, his face utterly confused as he watched Dagur shield the princess with his furs, rubbing small circles on her back and whispering something in her ear. She looked like she wanted to punch him but she was a smart girl. Instead she bore his attention with disgruntled resignation.
It wasn't even that that had him confused (and possibly a little afraid). What the Hel? It was the giant, genuine smile on Dagur's face.
He wasn't sure what was wrong with Dagur. It was almost like, he cared about the princess. Which was an insane and an impossible thought. No, it was more likely he was suffering through a cold or food poisoning. That's why he was being generous and polite. Or as generous and as polite as he could be without the others thinking he was a changeling or doppelganger.
Yes, that was it. It was just impossible that Dagur could have actual feelings for another person. But no matter how much he reasoned with himself, he couldn't completely convince himself and while he pitied the princess he couldn't help but think that, maybe, she was actually good for him.
Perhaps it was a good thing that she hadn't been killed and that Dagur had taken an interest in her.
Milkweed appeared, sweating and panting, just as he pondered this. She was soaked to the bone and her hair was loose and lying damp on her forehead and neck.
"The world is ending," he said.
She gave him a weird look. "It's just a thunderstorm."
"Not that."
"What are you talking about then?"
He motioned towards Dagur and the princess. At that moment he was giving her a quick peck on the cheek and Butch shuddered at the sight of it just as the princess jerked back and stepped on Dagur's toes. "I think it means a brighter and better tomorrow for us Berserkers. If that girl can make him feel something else besides anger and manic joy, I'll take it."
"Even at the sacrifice of the girl?" she asked, finally understanding what he was referring to.
Butch shrugged. "I don't know her. She seems like a nice girl but, I mean, she can't go back home. She's stuck here. She has to make the best of what she's got. Weren't you the one that told me she has to get used to the idea of, well, Dagur and us?"
Milkweed frowned. "Yes…but it doesn't mean I'm happy about it."
"Of course not. I'm not happy about it either but just think about it. Life will be better for everyone if it turns out that Dagur mellows out after experiencing married life." He really hoped Dagur would become more tolerable. Things couldn't keep going the way they were. If Butch weren't crippled and the others weren't so scared, he would have started a mutiny long ago.
"Besides, it's not like we can do anything to stop it. We just have to be grateful he didn't take an interest in a person as insane as him. Or as scary as Pandemonium. The princess looks like she's got a good head on her. She's not stupid. She'll pick up the language soon enough and she's not weak by any means. Do you see the way she deals with Dagur? She'll stand as an equal."
"Almost. Dagur still treats her like a prize," Milkweed reminded.
Butch sighed. "Yeah, you're right. Well she'll stand as his almost equal. And who knows, maybe that will change as time goes by."
"If Pandemonium has anything to say, I seriously doubt it," Milkweed commented. She shook her head and stifled a shiver. "Well, I have to get back to work. You should get in the tent or you'll catch your death."
"Yeah, yeah," he said.
He watched Dagur and the princess for another minute before his teeth started chattering and he retreated back into the safety of the tent.
It wasn't even ten minutes later that the tent flapped opened and the princess was guided in by the steady hand of Dagur. The princess wasn't soaked but her hair was damp and hung in heavy curls around her face and her cheeks were flushed from the biting wind.
"Get her ale to warm her up," Dagur ordered as he took her to her bedding and urged her to sit down. Butch almost spilled the mug as he watched the way Dagur absolutely dotted on her. Gods, this was like a dream. Or a nightmare. One of the rare good nightmares if those even existed.
"Here," Butch said, holding it out for her but Dagur took it from his hands and gave it to her himself.
"Here," he said but she just looked away. Dagur was not dissuaded. He set it down next to her and pushed her hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. Then he stood and adjusted his armor and helmet. He narrowed his eyes at Butch who was standing back awkwardly. "Make sure she doesn't get in trouble."
"Yes sir," Butch mumbled and relaxed when he stepped back outside into the storm. He shook his head and turned to the princess who was watching him with weary eyes. Butch couldn't blame her. This was technically the first time they were actually meeting. The other times they had been left alone didn't count because either she'd been passed out or he'd been passed out, both recovering from their injuries.
Ugh, this really was going to be a long night.
Turns out they spent the first two hours just sitting around or pretending to sleep before Butch had the great idea to play Hnefatafl by himself. He was at it for thirty minutes when he noticed that the princess had crept closer and was watching him play with intense eyes. He ignored her until he grew board playing alone.
With a grunt he motioned for her to sit across from him with the board game in the middle. Immediately she frowned and scurried back.
"Come now, girl, I don't have any intention of hurting you," he said. He tried to speak softly and held out a white piece. "Here. You can be white and I'll be brown."
She just stared him down like if he was an animal. Well, it wasn't like she'd been treated any better. He sighed and slumped back in his seat. Maybe he should take a nap.
It was like this for the next couple of days. After Dagur took her out with him in the mornings, she would return in the evening and Butch would try to engage her in a game. She refused to budge. Milkweed started giving him looks whenever she walked in on him entreating her with a game piece but said nothing.
Butch was ready to give up but, miraculously, on the eighth day, he woke up from a nap to find her inspecting the pieces closely. She raised her eyes as she felt him move but didn't try to run away. Instead, she placed the king in the center and started setting the game up by memory.
His jaw dropped as she made her move.
Cautiously, he got closer, not wanting to spook her. He looked down and whistled. "Did – did you learn the rules just by watching me?" She just raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for him to make his move.
He grinned. "You're a smart one."
After that, they passed a lot of time playing Hnefatafl.
Merida always won.
It was…fun. He hadn't felt any spark of joy (not related to Milkweed at least) since Dagur had crippled him. This girl though. Some nights he seriously contemplated whether she was a witch. It seemed like the only explanation for how she could get results in him and in Dagur.
When they weren't playing, Merida was being dragged around by Dagur. He called it taking her out for fresh air. Butch thought it looked more like a master taking his pet out for walks. It boiled his blood but, still, Dagur was being almost human. He hadn't beaten anyone or killed anyone. He was pleasant when Merida was by his side. And sometimes, she even managed to stop conflict from happening simply by showing disapproval.
What in the gods names?
The girl was magic.
She also had a streak of mean humor as he found out later when she'd named one of the board pieces 'Dagur' and had promptly sat him aside to drown in her ale. The piece had lain in the mug for the better part of the day and when she'd finally taken it out, it had been soggy.
She'd given him a sheepish smile when she'd handed it back to him and gave him what he thought might have been an apology. Although she hadn't really looked sorry. It hadn't mattered though because Butch hadn't been angry. She'd probably needed it to take out some of her pent up frustration. In fact, Butch wished he could have thought of it. It probably would have helped him through those first few depressing days.
As time dragged on, he realized he'd stopped calling her the princess in his head and had begun seeing her as Merida. And it turned out he liked Merida.
He pondered this one night as he lay awake, hearing her gentle snore a couple of feet away. Her heard her murmur something and shift lightly in her bed. He hoped she wasn't going to have a nightmare tonight. Gods know she had too many of them already. He wondered what she dreamed about. It must be terrifying because most of the time, she woke up with a scream stuck in her throat.
Poor child.
"Odin's beard," he muttered as he realized what he'd just thought. He sighed and banged his head lightly on the floor. Great. He'd done what he'd warned Milkweed about. He'd become attached to her. He slapped his face. That was never good.
Couldn't find it in himself to regret it though. The miserable should stick together after all. And they had a common enemy.
Merida really was too young. And she didn't deserve this. She was smart and funny and vulnerable but strong. He was sure she could beat him with a sword as much as with her brain. He'd seen her hands. They weren't soft like a whore's. They were calloused like a warrior's.
Besides, now that he was thinking about it, he realized the potential happiness Merida might be bringing Dagur (because godsdammit she was something) and, well, fuck Dagur. He didn't deserve happiness and he didn't deserve Merida.
He settled back in his bed, the sound of Merida for once having a peaceful sleep relaxed him, and contemplated the complete disaster that was inevitably coming.
A/N: Sorry I didn't update yesterday. I woke up in the afternoon, did some homework, and then I went out and didn't come back until very late.
Reviews
StillAnonymous: Well, not all of the tribes have dragons. Really, it's only Berk that rides them. The Meathead and the Visithug islanders are learning tolerance and have integrated the dragons into their lives, instead of just killing them which is pretty much all that Hiccup wants. And as of now, they are the only tribes who have accepted dragons (not counting the Outcasts who just want to use them for their own personal gain). The reason for this is because Hiccup is being very careful on who he chooses to show is hand. Meathead was first because they're neighbors and after he reeled in the Meathead tribe, Visithug followed. I guess I'd also like to mention that Vicious is a special exception to the 'only Berkians ride dragons.' And as you can see, not everyone is happy about this new treatment of dragons (Ruthless) but they're learning.
I guess that this would be a good time to point out that I'm adding my own mythology into the world so it's kind of changing things. It shouldn't change too much but enough where I can spin off a believable alternative story for a select few of characters.
Hi I'm new: Nice to have someone else on board. Hope you'll stick around even when I tell you that...no. There probably will not be Mericcup. Although if they do meet, it would not surprise me one bit if they developed this sort of platonic attraction to each other. Haha. Actually, I wouldn't mind continuing after I finish the story arc. I'd have to wait until How To Train Your Dragon 2 comes out though.
Warning! (even if it isn't explicit, I'm still warning for the themes): next chapter is a Merida chapter. Some unpleasant things will happen. I want to update on Wednesday but I have a busy week and might just post it on Friday or Saturday. I'm nearing the end of Part 1 and then I'll be taking a little break so I can focus more on school before starting back on Part 2. Thanks again for all those that read.
