For Mericcup Month 2021, I finished a couple of the previous years' prompts.

Prompt: Mericcup Month 2019, Day 9 – Hers: Horses
Word Count: 300

Her riding boots kicked up a trail of dust despite the morning dew as she made the ten-minute trek from the stables to the practice courses. The slightly off-kilter beat of his footsteps gave away her rival's approach moments before he caught up to her, the reins of his warmblooded stallion held so loosely in one gloved hand that the horse could have pulled free with no more effort than it took to shake his head if he felt so inclined.

"Good morning," The Danish athlete said as he fell into step beside her. Nodding an acknowledgement, she absentmindedly raised a hand towards her heart, as though to still the memory of the silver medal gently bumping against her chest as she made her way down from the podium after the last time she'd competed against them.

This year, though, she was determined to claim the gold. They'd trained harder than they ever had in their lives, getting up at ungodly hours of the morning to train every day. And today was no different – except, perhaps, for the fact that she had some uninvited company for her usual dawn practice session.

She kept her eyes fixed on the path ahead of her, determined to avoid that feeling she got in her chest whenever she met those green eyes of his. It was the same feeling that she had when she and Angus were able to flawlessly clear a hurdle – that elated, soaring feeling like they were taking flight. He had no right to give her such feelings, especially when she had both feet planted so firmly on the ground.

She had more important things to focus on. She wanted that gold medal, and she wasn't going to let anyone or anything stand in her way – handsome, auburn-haired Danes included.

Prompt: Mericcup Month 2020, Day 4 – Saying I Love You: As we huddle together, the storm raging outside
Word Count: 300

Her mother would be rolling in her grave if she had any inkling what she was up to.

Elinor wasn't dead, mind you, but if she ever found out that her daughter had abandoned her academic career to chase tornadoes across the midwest with a group of twenty-somethings in a pair of beat-up jeeps, the knowledge alone would surely be enough to kill her.

But it hardly would have been a surprise to anyone, even her mother. She'd always been partial to a rush of adrenaline, anything to really get her heart pounding, and this was no different.

And here, climbing up into the familiar well-worn seats, the heat of the laptop against her legs as she navigated the GPS and tracked tornado conditions, every day was a thrill

One boot propped up on the front right tire of the jeep they called 'Toothless', she finished the last bite of her sandwich, blue eyes glued to the dark, angry clouds as they stalked closer, casting an ominous blackness over the golden wheat fields.

"Let's see if we can get a little closer, shall we?" Hiccup asked, his boots crunching in the gravel as he slid down from his perch on the hood of the jeep. She couldn't help grinning at their fearless leader, who somehow seemed all the more handsome against a backdrop of green-black clouds and violet lightning.

"I thought you'd never ask," She said as she swung up into the passenger seat. Behind them, the other doors slammed shut as the rest of their little band of renegade meteorologists took their places as well.

In seconds, he'd shifted Toothless into gear and hit the gas, and the second jeep, 'Maximus', followed close behind as they pulled back onto the road, and set off towards the approaching beast.

Prompt: Mericcup Month 2021, Day 9 – Myths: Monsters
Word Count: 450

"This isn't right," Merida said, her ears and freckled face flushing almost as red as the mane of curly hair that was barely contained under her pith safari helmet. "These are living, breathing creatures, not inanimate objects. This won't be enough for them, they all need proper enrichment."

"Stay in your lane, Mrs Haddock."

"Doctor Haddock," They corrected in unison.

"She's right," Hiccup said, nodding as he slid his hand down his wife's wrist to her closed fist, hoping that it might be enough to keep her from trying to make her point with them instead – not that he'd think her in the wrong if she did at this point, but it certainly wouldn't help their case. "This isn't humane."

"Not humane?" Doctor Grimborn scoffed, rolling his eyes. "Oh please. They're being fed daily, their enclosures are kept in immaculate condition and there's a whole team of veterinarians on staff to ensure they're all kept in good health. I wish I had a team as dedicated to my enrichment as these monsters do. Now, if you're very much finished, there's a whole stack of paperwork on my desk that won't finish itself."

Hiccup felt his wife tense beside him as their expedition leader and supervisor swept past them out of the room, but she didn't lunge for the dark-haired man. Her shoulders tensed, and for a moment, he thought she might scream, but then she crumpled against his chest with a long sigh. "The arrogance of that man is goin' ta get someone killed."

Wrapping his arms around her shoulders and tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear, he felt her slide her arms around his waist. "You know, it's funny – when I decided to become a paleontologist, I never in sixty-five million years would have expected this to be one of the occupational hazards."

Merida sighed again.

"Right, not that funny," Pulling back her pith helmet with one hand, he planted a kiss on her forehead and tilted her chin up with his other so he could look her in the face. "But either way, we're not quite out of options yet."

Merida gaped at him, her eyes wide. "Viggo will end both our careers before they've even had a chance to begin."

It was Hiccup's turn to sigh. "I know, but the alternative..."

"A know. If he's not going to warn Once-Lerabout what's going to happen, someone's got to. And if the park doesn't change how things are done, someone's going to get badly hurt," Merida said, her gaze wandering from him to the colourful park opening brochure pinned to the bulletin board on the back wall of their office.

Hiccup nodded grimly. "Or worse."