1) The curse was broken. 2) Magic had come to Storybrooke. 3) Life officially sucked.

Those were the three things Merida knew for certain. Weeks had passed since the Curse ended, and things were really no better than on the first day.

There was so much that was messed up in Storybrooke; the four horsemen of the apocalypse were not interested in solving those problems. They were too busy chasing monsters and jumping into hats. (So far four broken legs and one broken arm resulted from people trying to reverse Snow White's and Sheriff Swan's trip from the Enchanted Forest via the old well.) Of course, there was the obvious question that everyone was asking: 'When do we return to the Enchanted Forest?' And "Why is the Evil Queen not in police custody awaiting trial?' Merida suspected that there were an awful lot of people doing as her father and the other highland lairds were doing: googling the famous torturers/executioners and exactly how they kept their prisoners alive for days and kept the crowds entertained at the same time. She suspected a trial was going to be a mere formality; the outcome was certain. What was left to be decided was exactly how and how publically Regina was going to die.

However, there were other situations going on that Snow White, as nominal queen, and Sheriff Swan were quite willing to ignore. What exactly to do with those families that had been interrupted? There was one family that was frantic; they had had a daughter, Paige, while under the Curse. When everyone woke up, she was gone. They didn't know her real name, whether or not she had been reunited with her birth parents. Nothing. Then there were at least a dozen students at the high school who were making a fuss. Back home they had been married, but the Curse put them in their parents' houses. So now there was this legal issue: were teens, as young as fifteen and sixteen in some cases, properly married? Especially the ones that were pregnant or had recently given birth? And there was the instance of one fifteen year old (who sat next to her step-son in home room) who had no desire to return to her husband's home. He was threatening a law suit for breach of promise; her parents really didn't want to have to return the bride money. And where the groom had remained King George's ally even after Prince James and Snow White deposed him and King George was now the District Attorney, the outcome of that law suit was in doubt.

Then there were the situations that were personal issues for Merida; PJ's dad had moved into their basement. Back in the Enchanted Forest, he had decided he wasn't cut out for the 'family life', and had walked (run) away from the family leaving PJ's mom to take up the slack. The Curse had dragged him back into 'dad' mode, and he was right pissed about that. But leaving the house, since this was now America and not the Enchanted Forest, meant that he would be required to pay support for his wife and kids on top of his own expenses which really weren't covered by his job…. So the basement it was; PJ made sure to leave early in the morning and arrive home just before bed to avoid the arguments.

And finally, but certainly not the last issue to complain about, the administrators at school had just come to the realization that the seniors needed to graduate. No one had ever planned a graduation before. And then there was the question of what to do with the seniors after graduation. Normal seniors would have already applied to college or the military and heard back from those institutions. Normal seniors would be able to leave town to go to college, to travel, to enter the military, to seek their fortunes in New York or LA. Normal seniors had birth certificates that didn't indicate they were 28 years older than they appeared to be.

But about these normal issues, the peanut gallery: the Evil Queen, Snow White, the Blue Fairy and the Dark One, were silent. The four most powerful people in the town: the four who, directly or indirectly, placed the Curse upon the land, completely ignored all the 'everyday problems' so they could focus on what 'really counted'. The townsfolk watched and waited in agony as the four made and broke treaties and alliances with each other.

If there were any attempts to break the amnesiac spell on the border, it was not mentioned in the Daily Mirror. There were no rumors of any attempts to return people to their homes in the Enchanted Forest. The town's borders remained sealed. And the people remained in Storybrooke.

The upland clans, however, stopped waiting for Snow and Blue to get their acts together and instead placed their hopes and dreams in the hands of their own lairds and ladies. Merida's house became central command for Clan DunBroch; tartan covered lads and lasses traipsed through the house at all hours. Her father, Fergus, had decided his prosthetic leg was fine for hiding under pants, but his wooden peg matched his plaid much better. He could often be found in his office of an evening with the other lairds discussing whiskey making, holding a gathering, and which witches were actually witches (capable of using magic and therefore able to remove either the amnesiac spell or send all the clans back to the highlands) and which were merely labeled witches due to their appearance or use of herbs. Merida's mother, Elinor, held court both day and night (day in her salon and night in her parlor) adjudicating any and all issues brought before her, just as if she was back in Castle DunBroch.

And that in itself was a bit of a problem for their eldest daughter. The highland folk had lairds who acted as if they were kings. There was no feudal system of government as in the lowlands with their kings, dukes, and so on. Oh, the lowlanders had tried to conquer the highlands and had even installed a duke centuries before: the Duke of the Frontierlands. But clansfolk answered to their individual lairds and whenever possible, they ignored their so-called Duke. But even that fiction was eliminated with the ending of the Ogre's War and the installment of the current Dark One. So here Merida stood, daughter of a laird and, for all intents and purposes, a princess in her own right. She certainly had been treated as one when she toured the lowlands and attended Snow White and James' wedding. But princesses had marital responsibilities to their clans; Merida was more interested in college plans….

She was excluded from conferencing with the lairds, because of her feminine nature, and admonished to sit quietly and observe when in the ladies' court. Lady Elinor resumed the elocution and posture lessons deemed necessary for a princess. Merida escaped as often as she could, hiding in the woods with her bow and arrows or hanging out with PJ.

Unfortunately, a dinner party with the clan lairds and ladies (and their unmarried sons) was inescapable. The topic at dinner was outwardly innocuous: allying the clans to the lowlanders in order to further clan interests. But Merida caught several of the glances sent in her direction; by 'ally' they meant marriage to a lowlander royal or noble, and since she had already turned down four of the clans' sons, she was their first choice as bride to be.

The ladies almost confirmed this after dinner when sitting in the living room. They all worked in the same salon with Lady Elinor, and seemed over eager to give Merida a make-over.

"With such outrageously red hair and fair skin, I'd go with a neutral brown palette and just the barest hint of a gold highlight for eye color. The browns will make those baby-blues pop!"

"Oh, yes. And a sheer lip gloss, too. She's already got a nice, natural lip color, but some shine would be appropriate."

"And a light pink or clear on her nails. Girls today are into those absurdly long acrylic nails with overly elaborate sprayed-on nail art or bright white French manicures, which are, I hate to say it, disgusting looking."

"I don't need make-up." Merida grumbled.

"Of course you do, sweetheart." This patronizing (matronizing?) comment came complete with a patronizing pat on her leg. "Boys, and men, like to see their women looking as pretty as possible. And you've got such nice skin, you need just a touch to go from OK to WOW."

"At least she escaped the freckles that are so common with red heads."

"Speaking of red heads, that color is so brash!"

"Well, I have the perfect color in mind. Add in some brown and deep red. Make it a bit darker, more auburn."

"Oh, that will be so pretty! And with it cut just below the shoulders…?"

"And a frizz relaxer, too."

"I like my hair!" This protest, too, was shushed.

"Yes, yes. Of course you do. But you're eighteen, almost nineteen now, and you need a grown-up hair-cut."

"A frizz relaxer should release most of those tight curls. And a flat iron will flatten the rest."

"Or even give her curls. I've had wonderful results from making curls with my straightener."

"Why would I get rid of my curls just to put them back in?" Eight pairs of astonished eyes turned at once to look at Merida.

"The flat iron puts in manageable curls, dear." The tone clearly stated the speaker was addressing an idiot. "Not these… cork screws."

"I like my cork screws."

"Don't sulk, Merida. It's unbecoming in a lady."

"Hi. I'm Vincent. You must be Merida." He held out a well calloused hand for her to shake; in the fraction of a second before Merida's hand rose to take it, she heard her mother tsk in disbelief at Merida's lack of manners. If it weren't for the parents-fixing-me-up-on-a-date-even-though-I-already-have-a-boyfriend-and-then-deciding-to-go-on-said-date horror, she would have been willing to stare at the man standing across the table from her in Granny's Diner until she needed a pail to bail out the puddle of drool engulfing her feet. He was, quite simply, gorgeous. Tall, black-black hair and deep sapphire blue eyes with muscles in all the right places (she could spend hours counting and recounting the abs quite nicely displayed by his tight white tee) and not a spare ounce of fat anywhere. Add to that pearly white teeth and a killer smile without a hint of artifice, and you had the very definition of 'perfect man'. Merida tried very hard to elegantly slide into her chair, but the extremely form fitting dress Lady Elinor picked out had almost no give to the fabric, so it was more of a slither and a plop.

"So, tell me about yourself," she sighed as she swung her legs under the table. Merida stifled her grimace as the parents' faces beamed at her amazing conversational skills. Rule number one for girls: never talk about yourself; always ask about him.

"Well, I'm twenty-two. Here I work in construction. Apparently for the three little pigs." Vincent said wryly. "Back there I was a prince of the Maritime Kingdom; my dad's," he nodded at the man sitting in the booth across from Laird Fergus waving his hand, "brother is Prince Eric's father." Vincent leaned over the table and asked in a stage whisper, "Want to go for a walk? It's a little stifling in here with so many people staring at us."

Merida nodded her head, anxious for the escape. The movement tied an errant curl into a knot around one of the buttons going down the back of her dress. She winced at the pain, her head held at an unnatural angle.

"Are you OK?"

"Yeah, yes. My hair is caught." She tried to untangle the curl, but only managed to winch her head back further catching yet another strand of hair around a button. At least this 'date' is a washout because of the dress Mum insisted on me wearing. Vincent eased himself out of the table with a murmured "Allow me," and unwound the hair from the buttons. The perfect looking man was also the perfect gentleman as he helped Merida up from the table and out of the Diner.

If she was going to be hyper-critical, Vincent's hair was a tad too long in the back. It brushed against the collar of his T-Shirt with this hint of a wave. Merida imagined that he kept it that way for his girlfriends to have a good grip on while kissing.

"No, no girlfriend, I'm afraid," Vincent responded. At Merida's blank look, he continued. "My hair? I keep it long because I like the way it looks." As she began to blush, realizing her thoughts had emerged as actual words, he considerately changed the subject. "You were asking about me. I'm the Spare Apparent. If Cousin Eric doesn't marry and have a couple of sons, I might be king after him. And while the crown is lovely, there are gems the exact same color as my eyes, I really don't want the responsibility. I have a hard enough time working under my father keeping the duchy in order. And he's doing most of the work. I had my hopes up one night. Eric was going on and on about this girl, Ariel, that he met at a ball. He kept insisting she was the one. And then she bailed on him…."

Merida chuckled, "I guess he didn't kiss the girl, so now she's this wormy thing in Ursula's cave, huh?"

"What?"

"You know. Under the sea. Under the sea. Down here it's better, down where it's wetter. Take it from me!" she sang.

"What are you talking about?"

"There you see her. Sitting there across the way. She don't got a lot to say, but there's something about her. Yah yah yah yah." When he frowned in confusion, he got this line straight down between his eye brows to his nose; her fingers twitched to smooth it out for him. "Sebastian? Flounder? Those slimy eels with the yellow eye? King Triton and his thirteen daughters?" Merida paused after each question; Vincent showed no signs he had any idea of what she was saying. "The Little Mermaid? Disney movie?" A blank face continued to look down at her. "The Little Mermaid. Based on the Hans Christian Anderson tale. Or was it those brothers…. Anyway. She's a mermaid who falls in love with a prince. Ursula takes her voice in exchange for human legs. Then she's supposed to make the prince fall in love with her. And depending on who's telling the story, she either gets the prince and they live happily ever after, or he falls in love with some other woman and she's left voiceless and miserable for the rest of her life."

Vincent shook his head slowly. "Never heard of it. But for Eric's sake, I hope she returns. The voice is probably optional. But I'm pretty sure he wants his wife to have legs."

By now, they were standing on the docks looking over the boats bobbing gently in the waves. The sun was starting to set, streaking the sky with brilliant bursts of color. Wave crests sparkled a light grey against the midnight blue hue of the ocean. "This is so beautiful," Merida sighed. "I wish PJ was here to see it."

"PJ?" Vincent leaned on a rail, back to the ocean.

"Oh, my boyfriend." Merida bit her lip as she looked up at Vincent. "I have a boyfriend… So I'm here,"

"So do I," he interrupted.

"Because my parents are making me. Not that you're not a nice guy… What?"

"I have a boyfriend. So… yeah."

For a moment, they were both quiet as she absorbed this unexpected information. The wind gently tousled their hair, and Merida made a quick wish that it wouldn't wind around her buttons again.

"So why are you here? I mean, you're old enough to say you're not going on a date with your parents in tow."

"Goddess forbid anything happens to Eric. Or that he does marry his Ariel, but they can't have children. Worst case, though, I end up king. Which means I would need to marry. Marry a girl, that is. And have children with her. And, I… I guess, I'd like to at least like her. Mutual respect, you know?" He turned to face the ocean, now a rolling black with shiny white tips. "If I can't give her the romance and love she deserves, at least I can…."

"Be her friend?"

"Yeah. Something like that."

"I hope Eric finds Ariel."

"Me too."

"Merida? I've volunteered you to do some light housework."

"Mum!"

Lady Elinor carefully adjusted the ends of her scarf. "Mrs. Whispers fell and broke her leg last night. The ladies and I will be cooking her food and helping her to dress and take care of personal things. Someone needs to help with the cleaning."

"When exactly am I supposed to be doing this?" Merida slumped in the kitchen chair knowing she sounded like a petulant child. But after the dinner party, and the parents-on-a-date, this whole grow up and act like an adult thing seemed an awful lot like the sit still, behave, and do as your told of her childhood.

Lady Elinor gave her a stern look. "She's an elderly woman who is not allowed to walk on crutches for fear that she'll fall and hurt something worse. It is your duty as a Lady," somehow Merida could hear the capitalization, "to help the unfortunate and the needy. It's just a couple hours a week to dust and mop and wash down the bathroom. You spend more than that texting your friend." Merida heard the distaste in that word, too.

Merida bit down on her tongue. Almost nineteen (going on forty seven) year olds should be able to not stick their tongues out at their parents.

0-0

The first clue should have been the name. Seriously. Who in the highlands would name their child Willow Whispers? The second clue could have been the 'come in; I'm in the den.' Or the doormat. Or the stained glass window in the door. Or the carved newel posts at the bottom of the stairs. Or even the décor in the living room. Merida glared at the diminutive woman sitting primly on her couch, one cast-wrapped leg elevated. "You ruined my life."

The elderly woman smirked at the glare. "You asked for a spell to change your fate. Perhaps you should have been more specific?"