All or Nothing

Chapter Fifteen

Apologies for how late this chapter was. I was experiencing a very rough patch in my non-writing life and although it's far from over, I can breathe a little easier now.

I have a bit of a selfish request to make, and feel free to ignore if you think it's inappropriate. If you would recommend this fic to anyone else, would you please consider giving me a spot on TV Trope's fanfic rec list for Brave or Frozen? It would really make me happy.

…..

Merida was restless in the days and then the hours leading up to the battalion's arrival. Elsa thought she might have been glad to see some familiar faces from home, but her demeanour suggested otherwise. She was quiet but agitated, couldn't sit still, couldn't eat, had trouble sleeping. Elsa caught sight of her more than once pacing the tower balcony in the middle of the night.

The longboat was spotted just after the break of dawn, cutting through the fog like a knife. Merida abandoned the balcony to wait for them at the pier. Elsa watched her from the window of her office, standing stock-still but nervously twisting her hands in the fabric of her skirt.

At last, the boat thumped the edge of the pier and the largest man Elsa had ever seen jumped onto the planks and strode towards Merida with such ferocity that Elsa thought for one horrible moment that he meant to kill her. When he instead gathered the princess up in his arms and clutched her to his solid frame as though he wanted to hide her inside of him for safekeeping she breathed a sigh of intense relief, and released the build-up of ice she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

He was joined moments later by an equally solid young man that she assumed was his son, and Merida's former suitor. He hugged her too, more gently than his father had, and Elsa felt a ripple of unease rush through her.

Summoning her formidable dignity, she prepared to meet with them at the castle gates.

…..

The castle had played host to the citizens of many different lands, from the bookish silk-clad scholars of Dionhae to the loose jovial winter visitors of Corleesenten. However, the men of Dunbroch were of a breed Elsa had never encountered before, something she put down to their land's isolation from the rest of the world.

They were all large, imposing men, even the thinnest of them had an underlying coiled strength. They smiled with scars cutting through the lines of their mouths, with broken or missing teeth. Their voices to a man were deep and booming, their eyes scanning every corner for a possible enemy, their shoulders squared imposingly to dare anyone watching to take them on even as Merida introduced their leader to Elsa and translated his words for him, polite as they were.

All the same, despite herself, Elsa warmed to Lord MacGuffin. He had shed tears on seeing his fallen comrade's daughter safe and well, and he shed them again as he thanked her for keeping Merida safe. She had never seen a grown man cry before, and now she saw several of these intimidating warriors openly let tears trickle down their scarred faces.

They had brought tribute, as any good visitor to Arendelle would have, but Elsa demurred and told them she would only accept a tenth of what they had brought. She couldn't in good conscience take so much while their country was suffering so much unrest. Lord MacGuffin pledged his undying loyalty to her in graphic detail as Merida translated, with an occasional sardonic roll of her eyes.

"...and if there's ever a day when the Gods themselves have issue with you, he will lay their heads at your feet," she finished, and MacGuffin nodded, holding up his enormous hands to emphasize.

"Well, I am glad to hear it," Elsa replied, a little pale. "Should I ever make such a formidable enemy I would be glad to have you by my side."

"Tá sí sásta ar chloisfidh é," Merida echoed in Gaelic to MacGuffin. "Má namhaid ufásach a dhéanamh sí tá áthas uirthi tusa aige muirneacha taobh léi."

Lord MacGuffin nodded sternly and made a strangling gesture with his hands. His son, standing just behind him, nodded more amiably. Elsa thanked them again and ushered them into the main banquet hall so they could eat and relax after their long journey. She left them to it, with instructions to the staff to look after them as honoured guests, and she went to inspect the gifts they had insisted she accept.

It was remarkable how generous they had been, even with just a tenth of what they had brought. Several barrels of enormous smoked fish the size of small sharks, wheels of bright yellow strong-scented cheese, several skeins of wool so soft and thick it made Arendelle's wool seem threadbare by comparison, and a trunk full of beautiful gold and silver jewellery. It spoke volumes for how Dunbroch had survived even with its people scattered and displaced; it was a country that was self-sufficient to the utmost degree. She had suspected this from what Merida had told her, and the gifts proved it.

…..

The castle staff had started off very reluctant to serve the Dunbroch battalion, who seemed very loud and intimidating to them. They had been flitting about at the doors trying to convince each other to serve in their stead. Merida had to repeatedly warn them not to throw scraps on the ground or hurl dishes at each other as they were used to doing at home.

But as the day turned to evening and then night, the staff warmed to these strange visitors. They thanked the servers for their plates and when one of the younger girls struggled with a heavy platter and nearly tripped, one of the warriors took it from her and helped her to her feet in one oddly graceful move. The servants were used to being ignored by those they served, as was the custom in the Delles. By the end of the night they were arguing over who got to go in.

The men trickled off to the guest dorms one by one until just Lord MacGuffin, his son and Merida were left at the table, talking quietly and seriously. Elsa watched them from the doorway of the adjoining study.

She realized now, seeing her with her countrymen, how restrained Merida had been all this time. She talked with her hands as they did, her voice dipped and rolled more than ever in her native tongue, she spoke louder even when she was being quiet. Her body language was looser, not quite relaxed but engaged and engaging. It shocked Elsa to think that she had been so tense after all this time.

After watching them for a while, Elsa felt uncomfortably like she was imposing on them somehow and went back to her office. After an hour, where she busied herself with paperwork and tried not to feel so off about the situation, she heard a soft but familiar knocking pattern on her door.

"It's open, come on in," she called, mentally shielding herself without quite understanding why.

Merida walked in and sunk wordlessly into the chair across from Elsa. She looked exhausted.

"I think your men might take half of my staff away with them when they leave," Elsa joked. "They're proving rather popular."

Merida cracked a wry smile, but didn't laugh.

"What's the news from home, or would you rather not tell me?" Elsa prodded gently.

"It's not bad, but it's not too good either," Merida sighed. "All the people are scattered. Capital's empty, the Lords have gone to ground and they're supporting as many people as they can. All travel is stopped unless necessary, sea routes have been blocked until now. Warrick's lost a lot of support in Angols but he still has more men, and he's pulled back to fortify the capital. Everyone's at a standstill. And it's not safe for me to go home yet."

This is your home. You're happy here.

Elsa bit back that traitorous little thought and offered a sympathetic smile in its place.

"I've told you, you're welcome to stay here for as long as you need. How long do you really think Warrick can hold out?"

Forever. Please.

"He's holding out as long as he can. He's convinced I'm still in Dunbroch somewhere. He's been sending out searches since I escaped. He's offered ransoms. MacGuffin told me he's had dogs brought over from Angols to track me down."

Merida's voice shook a little as she talked about the dogs. Perhaps she hadn't understood how much he'd wanted to get her back until then.

"Well, the dogs won't be able to find you here," Elsa told her. "Now, if he manages to train some whales we can worry."

That dragged a soft chuckle out of her, and she looked a little less forlorn.

"MacGuffin said something like that," she said.

"Great minds think alike," Elsa shrugged. "He seems nice."

"He was one of my Dad's best friends. Only went to war against each other four times."

Elsa swallowed. "Only four? The mark of true friendship."

"Well, that last time didn't count, it was just a skirmish," Merida waved away. "He was just doing it because the other Lords were. Once I told them I wasn't marrying anyone they got over it right quick."

Elsa felt an uncomfortable churning deep in her gut as she was reminded that one of Merida's former suitors was at that moment asleep in her castle.

"That younger fellow, I assume that's MacGuffin's son?" she prodded, as if she didn't know, as if he wasn't the image of his father as a younger man.

"Yes. Fionnchan MacGuffin," Merida nodded.

"Your once betrothed," Elsa prodded further, keeping her tone light, as though she were teasing a girl about her lover.

"We were never betrothed," Merida laughed. "He was just the least awful option. You should have seen the other two."

No thank you.

"Least awful? How romantic," Elsa drawled.

"He was no more interested in me than I was with him," Merida shrugged. "And we were too young for all that anyway."

But even hearing her speak, the gnawing in Elsa's gut intensified. They were both older now, and feelings changed, and after being separated from her home for so long a familiar face could prompt her to look again.

Merida had clearly not seen the way he looked at her, but Elsa had. Fionnchan MacGuffin had hung back behind his father, speaking only when spoken to, and maintaining a respectful distance from Merida, but his eyes had zeroed in on her at all times as if the rest of the world had faded away. His feelings were written so clearly that Elsa now wondered if she looked the same way, if that was how Meena had figured her out so easily.

Even long after Merida left the office, Elsa remained there, trying to quell her agitation.

Three days. Just three days, and then they would be gone, and Elsa could go back to figuring out what to do with herself.

..

For three days, Elsa mostly made herself scarce, ostensibly to give Merida space to reconnect with her countrymen. Anna took over her diplomatic role with relish; she fit in well with them and they fell over themselves trying to impress her. Kristoff hovered in the doorways unhappily much as Elsa had done.

"They won't be here for long," Elsa consoled him after finding him downing brandy in the kitchen.

"I saw that big one pick up a horse," Kristoff moaned. "How am I supposed to make Anna think I'm manly after that?"

Elsa sighed. Masculinity was an oddly fragile thing.

"Anna doesn't love you because of your manliness," she consoled, but then stopped because she wasn't quite sure what Anna saw in him. She'd never really asked.

Kristoff threw a gulp of brandy back and slumped over the table.

Elsa ordered a selection of Arendelle's prized exports to be loaded into the longboat, explaining away to her advisors that when Dunbroch was more stable they would make a valuable trade partner. She showed them the gifts and they agreed, but she neglected to tell them she had only accepted a tenth.

The last night finally arrived, and her uneasiness was starting to drain out of her.

One more night. Just one more, and at dawn tomorrow they'll be gone.

It was past midnight, and Elsa was just putting away some files and preparing to go to bed when she caught a flicker of movement, a scarlet flutter out of the corner of her eye. Merida was in the tower. That wasn't unusual.

What was unusual was that someone was there with her.

Her veins felt like they were pumping acid as she left her office, crept up the stairs and crouched low at the entrance of the balcony, out of sight in the shadows but just close enough to see what was going on. They were talking, quietly, but in Gaelic so their volume wouldn't have made a difference either way. Fionnchan mumbled low and fast, clutching something in his giant fists. Merida responded with high tones, pleasantly, as to an old friend.

But then he leaned forward, and held out the object he'd been holding.

Merida's hand fluttered to her mouth, and even from where she stood Elsa could see the tears filling her eyes glimmer faintly in the moonlight.

It was a pendant, silver, on a thin braided chain, intricately carved in whorls and spirals. The stars shone through the gaps in the design. Exquisite.

The kind of gift you gave to someone you loved with all your heart.

He said something else, but Merida cut him off with a heaving sob and threw herself at him, wrapped her arms around his immense shoulders. He held her as close as his father had, and closer still. His eyes closed, and Elsa knew he was hoping never to open them again, for the moment to last forever.

The churning that had plagued her since the day she'd agreed to host the Dunbroch warriors finally stilled, replaced by a stone that settled there and dragged everything down with it.

…..

The night passed without sleep, and Elsa's despair became a cold rage, building inch by inch like a frozen lake surface. Merida had lied to her.

Elsa had given her a safe home for a year and a half, had practically made her family, and Merida had lied to her.

What now? Did she plan to marry this boy, move him into the castle now that she was the queen's closest friend? Maybe move his father in too, away from the unrest plaguing Dunbroch? Maybe move his entire battalion, and her brothers and eventually all of Dunbroch's citizens would be making their way to Arendelle and its generous queen. Or perhaps they were hoping for Elsa to bequeath some military strength to their honeymoon trip home to take Dunbroch back, and put through Merida's divorce from Warrick at the point of a blade.

Even as she let the fury rage in her mind, Elsa knew deep down she was being irrational. But she felt used, and foolish, and hurt.

Merida went to the pier to see the battalion off, and then went to the tower to watch the longboat fade back into the mist on the horizon. She was upbeat when she joined them later for dinner, and this just fuelled Elsa's anger more.

You took me for a fool, she screamed internally. A damned sentimental fool!

"You look cheerful," Anna commented as Merida took her usual seat, across from Elsa.

"They put up the Dunbroch crest on the way out. It's been so long since I saw it I almost forgot what it looks like," Merida laughed.

"Yes, well it won't be long until you see it again," Elsa bit out.

Her tone took Merida by surprise, and Anna looked at her with concern.

"Are you okay? You look a bit..." she began.

"I'm fine," Elsa cut her off. "I will be fine. I just don't like being taken for a fool."

She pinned Merida with a glare as she spoke. A thin sheen of frost began crawling across the windows. Merida paled, glanced at Anna, then back at Elsa.

"Did something happen?" she asked, cautiously.

"You tell me," Elsa snapped.

"Elsa, what the hell...?" Anna began, before Elsa held up a hand to silence her. The chill reached their water glasses, spiderweb-like cracks formed through the glass and the water trickled onto the tablecloth.

"I don't understand," Merida said, and indeed she did look confused, not to mention hurt. Elsa almost felt like letting it go. Almost.

"I know that MacGuffin boy proposed to you last night," she snapped. "And I know you were foolish enough to accept. I don't know what you plan to do next, and frankly I don't care, but after living under my roof at my patronage I'd have thought you had the decency not to lie to my face!"

Distantly she was aware that the ice was building in layers on the walls.

"I never lied to you," Merida said, and oh, she looked so innocent, Elsa wanted to believe her. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You're still lying! I saw you with him! I saw what he gave you!"

There was snow now, swirling around the room, but there was nothing but Elsa and Merida, across from each other. Everything else was fathoms away.

"Do you mean this?" Merida asked, and then the silver pendant was dangling in front of her, gathering snowflakes on its surface. Elsa wanted to rip it out of her hands and destroy it.

"How did you know he gave this to me? Were you watching us?"

A creeping dread began building as Elsa was suddenly aware that maybe, possibly, she had made a terrible mistake.

"You were watching us," Merida confirmed.

Elsa didn't answer.

"This was my mother's," Merida continued, in a tone utterly devoid of emotion. "My father gave it to her when he proposed, she never took it off. She was wearing it when she died."

Of all the times that Elsa had felt at her lowest point, she had never felt the level of self-loathing, of pure disgust with herself that she did at that point in time.

"The Lords stormed Machblair's stronghold to give my parents a proper burial , but the pendant was missing. Fionnchan bribed every servant in the castle to get it back. He thought I needed to have it. It's all I have left of her."

The snow, the frost melted away as Elsa's deep, burning shame manifested outwards, leaving the walls and carpets damp. The relative discomfort probably wasn't why Merida got up and left without another word.

"You know, you're my sister and I love you," Anna growled, throwing down her soaking wet napkin. "But sometimes you're a real piece of work."

Elsa couldn't agree more.