Disclaimer: I don't own Hiccup or Merida, obviously. I'm not making any money off this. Both characters and the movies they come from belong to Dreamworks and Disney, respectively. If you really want to see something to blow you away, go watch the movies. Then think about these two interacting. Then you'll see what I mean.
LIMINALITY
Maybe I Could Be
The wine burned, heady and strong, down his stomach. It was his third cup and already, his fingers tingled. The stuff must have been potent to affect someone who had drunk nothing but bitter ale and Gobber's deadly brew all his life. Lady Atilis had broken out her best vintage for the feast.
The haunting music of the flute resounded in the darkness of the window seat, somehow amplified by the tiny space enclosed by the burgundy curtains. Hiccup imagined he could feel it thrum in his blood. It made him feel wistful somehow like being alone but for Toothless in an utterly grey sky chasing an unreachable horizon. The bagpipes joined for a rushing crescendo, and Hiccup recognized the notes in the song. It was Niall Dingwall's favorite ballad; what was it called? For the Love of a P—
The obscuring curtain twitched back and at once the noise of the revelry—of men and women talking, of platters being set down, of servants weaving their way through the press—rushed in and scattered his thoughts.
"You left." Merida held the curtain back, her scarlet curls and slim shoulders outlined by the glow of the great fireplace, and her mouth twitched.
"Can't overload them with my presence right away." The words came easily to his mouth even as he felt the flush on his cheeks. "It's reputation-building rule number six: leave them wanting more. Haven't you been paying attention to Osgar's lessons?"
"Osgar also advises strutting in the kitchen so you may view your stride from many angles on the silverware." She cocked her hip and her brow rose provocatively. "Am I going to find you in the kitchen later tonight?"
"Already did it this morning." He felt a corresponding smirk tug at the corner of his mouth. "Hiccup - 2, Merida - 0. If you're not careful, I'm gonna be way more popular than you by night's end."
Her laughter was a breath of fresh air in the stuffy, suddenly claustrophobic hall in Eilean Donan. She let the curtains fall back into place behind her and she collapsed on to the seat next to him. Or at least she tried to. The golden gown embroidered with pearl was designed to draw the eye and catch the firelight. It was not, unfortunately, designed to let its wearer collapse into anything softer than a throne.
"You can take the prize; I don't care anymore," she groaned. "I haven't sat down for the past three hours. I feel like I've danced with every single man in the room."
She probably had. From the moment the Princess had descended the stairs into the Great Hall, there hadn't been a moment when her presence wasn't sought after or her hand hadn't been promised to another. It was an escalation of the attentions paid to her as princess and the grace with which she handled said attentions was nothing short of miraculous. Whatever gods Helen and Sima prayed to had been powerful.
You should include yourself in the praise as much as me or Lady Helen, milord, Hiccup recalled Sima saying earlier. Begging your pardon, but she wasn't having none of Lady Helen's help before she met you. I think… you made her open to it.
Hiccup had scoffed at Sima's suggestion. A barbarian Viking—not just any Viking but "the curse of Berk"—made a Princess open to hosting feasts or receiving lords of the realm?
You made her less afraid, Sima had said firmly at the open doubt in his face.
Hiccup hadn't held much water with that either. Merida was ridiculously brave to the point of insanity—not the ice-cold fearlessness he'd seen in Berserker warriors or the calculated unfeeling of the Roman general. Her voice cracked after Elinor delivered a cutting lecture; her eyes were glassy as she fired arrow after arrow in the archery range after a long day at court.
Marrying one of the young lords would be like swallowing broken glass, she'd once told him, I wouldn't know who I was after—how I could piece myself back. But what had she been doing in Lady Ailis's estate these past few months? In this party? She'd made great friends of her suitors; she'd established her own court and her own supporters. She stepped into an arena she'd been terrified of and made herself a very capable, very dangerous player.
He'd never known a woman less likely to run away from anything while Hiccup? He disappeared into the window seats as soon as he could.
"You're overthinking again," Merida muttered. "I can hear the gaming beads rattling in that skull of yours."
"I was just counting how many men you danced with versus how many women and men I danced with." He nudged the small gap in the curtains shut with his foot. In the silence, her warmth was suddenly much more noticeable. "Just to keep it factual."
She snorted and it was so like the girl who spent her free afternoons helping him with his secret inventions at the castle forge. "Osgar's lot seem more than passing fond of you. Why is that?"
"Good taste?"
"Hiccup." She peeked up at him. Her voice was low and earnest—not at all what he'd been expecting. "Do you really not know what's going on between…" Her forefinger traced a small circle in the air.
"Between?" He took a sip of wine to alleviate his suddenly parched tongue.
She stared up at him, eyes the vivid blue of her Highland lochs. "Petir's very handsome."
"Who?" Brow furrowed, he mentally reviewed all the eligible young men at the feast; there were just too many to keep tabs on them all. He was certain she'd never mentioned a Petir in her letters. "And since when did you care about looks?"
"Never mind."
"Wait, you mean Petir as in Osgar's right-hand man?" Hiccup let the doubt creep in to his voice. The boy was as fair as Osgar was dark; his features sharp and clean cut; and he was certainly the nicest of all the young nobles to Hiccup—going so far as to invite him to hunts or games. But besides that Osgar out-preened him, Hiccup couldn't see much difference between the two. "He's fine, I guess. Um, isn't that awkward—you choosing Petir over Osgar? How would that go over with the Macintosh?"
A slow grin spread on her face. Hiccup traced its progress, attempting as always to puzzle out the truth that lay between her words and her actions. The princess was seldom deliberately deceptive; her emotions ran too strong and true for that. Rather, the challenge lay in deciphering the clues correctly. Was that relief in her smile? A hint of deviltry in her eyes? "Just wanted your opinion of him, is all."
"What aren't you telling me?"
"We'd be here all winter long."
"Hah, hah." He tugged at a curl of her hair. "Shouldn't you be worried about your esteemed guests?"
"Not at all." A passing shadow loomed large over the drawn curtain. Merida nudged him until they were both crowded into the corner of the window seat. Her hair, loose as she preferred it, brushed his arm and her breath fanned his cheek. "Osgar, Niall and Alan are actually being of great help. I can't imagine holding this feast without them. I just wish…they were more like you."
Ignoring how his heart skipped a beat, Hiccup asked glibly, "A Viking hiding in the corner?"
She jabbed him in the side. This close, it hurt worse than he'd like to admit.
"A convenient punching bag for violent princesses?"
"Shut up!" she hissed before laughing and Hiccup started laughing too. Their shoulders shook together until a servant drew the curtains back. The woman started in surprise upon finding the Princess and her guest and quickly retreated with murmured apologies. Merida hid her face on his shoulder to stifle her laughter and Hiccup tried very hard to ignore the softness of her. "I meant that you travel lightly. I can't invite Osgar, Niall or Alan to anything like this without having to invite half their court. The same goes for any of the lords, really. I invited Lord Dougall because he is a close ally of Lord Mackenzie. I invited Lord Mackenzie because he is enemies with Lord Heughan and I invited Lord Heughan because he supports Lord MacDorie…" and on and on and on.
Hiccup's head swirled at the names she dropped, their interweaving relationships and how, altogether, it became the tapestry that was the nobility of the Highlands. It was like an intricate ecosystem of dragons—each species interdependent on others in surprising ways to maintain a delicate balance that affected all. But still, there was one member of the throng she hadn't given a reason for inviting.
"So why ask me then?"
"What are you talking about?"
"I get why you invited all these lords and their followers. But I don't get how a Viking wins you points or gets you anything."
"You're here for the most important reason of all, of course."
"What's that?"
She gave him a puzzled look, as if she couldn't decide if he was being really ignorant or deliberately obtuse. "Because you make me happy."
His heart lurched; his lungs seemed starved for air; and his stomach contracted. It wasn't the first time and, he realized with a sinking sensation, it wouldn't be the last time she turned his world upside down as casually as she devastated targets with her bow and arrows.
Don't think about it, Hiccup, he told himself sternly. Don't be stupid. She was so far beyond him. It was laughable that they were even friends, that they wrote to each other constantly, that they spent almost all his visits together, that she preferred his company above the great throng of Highlands lord and yet… and yet she kept saying these things. Did it mean anything?
"Merida," he breathed, "I need to—"
"Your Highness, may I have this dance?"
"Of course, Lord Jamie." She held out her hand automatically, smile in place, but Hiccup noticed the barest slump of her shoulders. He doubted anyone else caught her weariness.
Lord Jamie swept her into a dance and she was once again a part of the glittering throng—the Princess of DunBroch, the future wife to a high lord, the mistress of a great clan, and as untouchable as the northern lights.
Then she caught his eye as she executed a turn, winked and jerked her head to the floor. She mouthed, Coming?
Author's Note:
Sorry for the long wait, folks! I'm having a phenomenally bad month (guy rear-ends me on the freeway and accuses me of cutting him off! Among other things). However, to make up for the hiatus, I will be posting another chapter of Liminality (the sequel, per se, to this chapter), and the new chapter of Crossing the Horizon this week.
Fun tidbit: the music Hiccup listens to in the beginning is from Braveheart and it's called For the Love of a Princess. This piece was inspired by Anywhere But Here (Orchestral Version) by Safetysuit and the title is a phrase from the song. Seriously. Listen to that song while reading this chapter and let the feels commence! I hope ya'll enjoy :)
Originally posted on tumblr for mericcup month under the username moonshotsandarchimedeslever. Drop by and say hi! Thank you to everyone who read/reviewed/favorited/followed the story!