#the fall of the house of dunbroch

[mamabear-elinor]

The Fall of Rome: A Battle of Beasts and Bows [Part One: The Fall of the House of DunBroch] || [Brave Women]

In which the Order comes to Swynlake...[takes place: July 02]

@heart-of-dunbroch

[tw -- violence, gore, major character death]

ELINOR: Elinor had never been to battle. At least, never the type of battle that one usually thought of. The kind that were sung about in ballads. Most of her battles had been silently waged within herself. The battle to stay silent for years and years, as she watched Merida’s spirit crack around the edges as she was crushed beneath the cog of destiny; as she watched her bright, beautiful sons harden and dull under the pressures of their family name. The battle to mourn her unborn children alone. The battle to leave her husband and everything she had known behind. 

These were the wars that women fought, but now--she had been called to fight a proper one. Elinor was not afraid. She was angry. 

The Order  was daring to attack her home? Her daughter? Everything that she had tried to build, on her own, over the last year? Elinor no longer would so easily cower when the fighting came, as it would come this evening--the sky dusky purple, the forest quiet. The castle grounds had a thin mist of fog settling over them, dampening every sound. The air was still. 

They knew that there wasn’t enough of them to keep the Order from breaching the walls, so the plan had been to stay close to the castle and split the forces. Elinor, Merida, Dipper, John, and Phillip would be coming up on the flank, trying to split the force in half and draw them into the maze. Belle, San, Henry, and Rose would use the castle’s original intention as a fortress to push an offensive from inside the building.

Hopefully, it would be enough to drive them off. Howl, Hades, and Toulouse--as well as a few other allies were on standby, should things start to sour. Each of them had a magical amulet that they could smash to sound the alarm for back up, if necessary. They glowed soft yellow from each of their wrists. 

Elinor shifted in her spot, looking towards Merida as they waited in the hedges. “You don’t think they’d bring the boys with them, do you?” she couldn’t help but ask. She’d already asked it, but now that the violence was imminent she was growing nervous again. 

MERIDA: Before a battle was the only time Merida had ever felt calm. It was a feelin’ she could never explain, not to herself or to her mam. But it was the reason she was so wild otherwise, always restless and noisy and lookin’ for somethin’ to do with her hands. But now, she had a sword on her hip and her bow. It had been a long time since she’d held that bow, so worn and loved by Merida’s fingers that its once fine etchings on the wood had faded where she gripped it. Now she held it like an anchor as her heart beat steadily. She looked out the hedges with the eyes of a wolf. She breathed in the woods, her woods, and scented the Order as she would prey. They were comin’. She hadn’t warned Elinor yet– she would when they were truly close, but her mam was already nervous enough.

Truthfully, she was trying to pick out the scents of her brothers among them. But would she recognize Harris, Hubert, and Hamish? Had she forgotten what they smelled like, her own kin? Would the wolf know them? Or had the Order changed them too much? 

She breathed. She watched. And at her mother’s voice, she glanced her way, but only for a moment, not wanting to break concentration. 

“We can’t rule it out,” she said again. This had been her answer before and her answer now. “If it were me, I’d do it.” 

Because of course. What better way to complicate the battle than to bring three young boys into the heart of it– to confuse Merida and Elinor? 

“We should be ready for it.” 

And then– Merida stood even straighter. “Shite, they’re gettin’ closer– there’s a lot of ‘em. Tryin’ figure out–” she sniffed the air rather crudely, taking in deeper breaths.

ELINOR: Yes, they would try to use her children, wouldn’t they? 

Elinor felt her stomach roll with revulsion. How had she let herself get trapped in this situation? How had she left her sons to fend for themselves in an institution that would offer them nothing but grief, pain, and violence? 

She should have freed them, somehow. She should have known from early on that the Order was foul, corrupt, and corroded. The veil had been lifted and it felt as if she had been living inside a corpse and only just now realized that the flesh was rotted. It had been too late to get her sons out. Her daughter had learned before she had. Merida had saved herself. Elinor had saved herself, but she hadn’t saved her sons.

The guilt of that would live with her, she was sure, for years to come. 

Her face was pale and she was silent, not replying to Merida’s confirmation that the boys would probably be here. There wasn’t anything to say. There was only what they could do. The time for talking had long passed, though Elinor wished only to sit down with her sons. With Fergus. Explain to them--get them to see the truth--

But they wouldn’t. The boys were too young. They had been poisoned against her. She had let it happen. And Fergus--

He wasn’t the man that she had married. He’d been corrupted and corroded the way the Order did to everyone. 

She adjusted her stance and then glanced at Merida’s, sniffing and snorting like a bear. “Merida, please,” Elinor hissed, unable to help herself. Her heart was racing and she felt ill--the bear lurking close. 

MERIDA: Merida ignored Elinor– as was her superpower. 

She was focused on the scents, every battle instinct she’d crafted over the years honed in. There was no time to quarrel with her mam. The forest was full of enemies. Soon, the castle would be full of enemies. And among them– 

Though it had been years, she recognized the scent of family. Her father’s scent. Fergus had always smelled like whiskey and pine, calling up memories of family camping trips throughout the forests of Scotland. Her da, who always brought more drink along than he needed– whose laughter billowed louder than thunder, who was a storm all by himself. She’d wanted to be just like him when she was younger, happy to have his red hair and curls, to be DunBroch through and through. 

Now, he was comin’ right at them all.  And she’d have to face him from the other end of a sword. 

“They’ve split their men into two flanks!” Merida hissed. “Da’s with ‘em.” She laced her bow and then crouched down, peering over the hedge. 

Movement in the tree line. 

At the first head, Merida let an arrow fly. It caught a man right in the shoulder and he fell with a scream. 

“THEY’RE HERE!” Merida cried out, then laced another arrow as the men charged. 

ELINOR: Fergus. 

Elinor felt her stomach drop and she felt suddenly faint. Or like she wanted to put herself in front of Merida’s bow and Fergus’ sword and—convince them to lay down their weapons. This wasn’t how any of this was supposed to go. She had known this was how the fight would go, but she didn’t want it. She still held onto the hope that when Fergus saw her, he’d be the man she remembered. 

The one she had married. Who was a good man. Not a man beaten down by family expectations and failure after failure. 

There wasn’t much she could do as the Order poured through the front gates. They hadn’t been expecting an attack, she saw that on their faces as they took in the group standing outside the castle. It was Fergus, tall and broad shouldered, who called the Order. Her sons, three in a row, Hubert and Hamish tall and proud, Harris slightly smaller—stood next to their father, swords in hand. 

“Half you lot with me! The other half, to the castle!” He turned to face his family. There was no recognition that she could see in his blue eyes before his face twisted and he started after them. 

“Merida, not—not your brothers,” she said breathlessly to her daughter. “We—we should draw them around to the back of the castle…can try to…meet with the others.” As she said it, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to move. The sword in her hand lay like dead weight with the point pressing into the earth.

MERIDA: In battle, there was no time to think. Maybe that’s why she liked it so much. You had to trust yourself instead. You had to believe that you knew what you were doing and that you’d do it right. Merida moved with that confidence and trust as she laced another arrow and sent it flying into the neck of an oncoming Order man, not even sure who it was. But she nailed the target the way she always nailed the target, and her bow was not empty for long. Another arrow kissed the nocking point. She pointed it toward the onslaught, right at her father. When her blue eyes met his own– that was when she hesitated. That was when the thoughts crept in. She had to shoot her father. She couldn’t shoot her father. She was rather certain she could shoot her father more than she could shoot the triplets, who clambered around him, eyes wide in fright– none of them ready for battle, though Hubert was makin’ a show he was. Why the hell had Da even dragged them here?! She could talk of strategy all day long, but seeing the wee lads, their arms skinny as cypress branches holding weapons they did not know how to trust, not the way that Merida trusted her bow– she couldn’t believe Fergus had gone through with strategy over safety. That he’d endanger his three boys, his fookin’ heirs– all so Merida and Elinor  might hesitate. It worked. She hesitated. Fergus charged. “Shite,” Merida cursed and she unnocked her bow, grabbing Elinor by the arm. “COME ON!” She bellowed, at the same time that Fergus bellowed his own command to attack. She dragged her mother into a fast pace. They weaved through the hedges, having the advantage of knowing where they were bloody going. “ELINOR! IT’S NOT TOO LATE!” Fergus shouted from behind them. “THEY’LL FORGIVE YE. LEAVE HER BEHIND.” They. The Order. Her, his daughter. “Tch! What a nyaff!” Merida growled. “I should bite him! See how he likes it!” She wouldn’t. Fergus was too honorable to ever live as a werewolf. 

ELINOR: They ran. Elinor was fit. She went for walks, even a jog here or there. Before coming to Swynlake she’d been an avid equestrian and hiker. The outdoors had always been a place of refuge for her. 

But she’d never run like this. Their feet squelched along the ground, Merida’s hand a vice. Her lungs burned as they twisted through the hedge maze and she was sure that they might burst. She was grateful for the days she’d spent out here, pruning all alone, learning the maze. And she was grateful for the Swynlakers who had come to help clean. It meant they only tripped over half the debris they would have either. 

Elinor squeezed her eyes shut against Fergus’ shouting, wishing she could give him a piece of her mind. If this could just be settled by one of their famous rows, wouldn’t that be enough. 

“Ach, Merida,” she still managed to tsk despite her panting. “You’re not biting your father.”

They ran a bit more. “Turn here, it’ll lead to the back door of the castle, eh? We can’t face them alone. We’ve gotta find Phil or John.”

Or maybe they could just lose them in the castle’s winding pathways and corridors. Then, they could be someone else’s problem. (Though, Elinor’s heart was aching to see her boys again.) 

MERIDA: Merida didn’t want to find Phil and John! 

She didn’t want to leave her mess for another person to handle. She also didn’t want to fight her siblings though, so– crivvens, fine, they’d find Phil and John! At least they’d not kill the boys. They could probably knock Hubert’s sword out of his hands and toss ‘em all in one of the castle’s closets, where they’d be grumpy but safe. (Then again, Harris had always been a bit of an escape artist. They’d need to tie ‘em all down for good measure!)

She obeyed Elinor, for once not arguing. There was no time to argue. She cut into the courtyard and then there, the castle door! 

She opened it and rushed inside. They made it through the mudroom and into the kitchen and then Merida heard the shouting from deep within. 

“Shite, they sent more men around the front! They’re already in here,” said Merida and she turned–

But Fergus burst through the door. They couldn’t go back into the garden.

They’d meet more Order men if they kept goin’ through.

“Up the stairs!” Merida cried, hoping to use the servant stairwell. She needed to get her mam somewhere– safer than this. 

ELINOR: They burst into the kitchen—Elinor’s beautiful kitchen that she’d just gotten properly cleaned!—muddy boots skidding on the floor. The urge to yell: take off your boots, oach! rose in here ridiculously. She ignored it.

She did not, however, ignore the urge to yell at the sight of her ex-husband, the boys piling behind his large frame, eyes wide. “Fergus DunBroch! What are—“ 

But Merida’s hand was an iron grip in hers and she was already gone, fast and nimble. Elinor tripped after her. 

There was the clank of swords behind her as her ex-husband and sons gave chase. Elinor managed a quick prayer of thanks that this was Best castle and not Cawdor, which the triplets knew better than the mice in the walls. 

Up the stairs they went. Up and up, turning this way and that, the rest of their broken family only steps behind, like hounds chasing deer through the wood. (Merida would probably not like the comparison, but it felt apt. Elinor certainly felt like a deer: delicate, terrified.)

Eventually even the servant’s quarters ended and they were dumped out into a large, circular room. Elinor had never been in it. She had no idea where they were, only that it smelled damp from the slitted windows that had never been fashioned with glass. That would need to be done at some point, she couldn’t help but note for the ever-running to do list in her head—

Just as Fergus and the boys burst into the room as well. 

They were trapped. Elinor glanced at Merida, still holding her daughter’s hand tightly. Then, she took a breath and drew herself up to her full height. 

“Fergus! Boys!” It had been a long time since she’d used that tone and for a moment, it was all she could say, overcome by the sight of her children and her children overcome by the sight of her. It had been a year since she’d seen them last. They’d grown so tall. Hubert and Harris almost at the height of their father’s shoulder, Hamish just behind. Hubert’s face was covered in an outbreak of pimples, Harris had a small, pink scar only a mother would notice beneath one of his eyes. He must’ve gotten it in training. It gave his always sharp gaze a more wizened appearance. 

“You—“ she started, still not sure what she was going to say until the words were out of her mouth “—need to leave.” 

“Ma—“ That was Hubert. 

“Just give up the wolf, woman. Then this’ll all be over,” Fergus said. 

Hubert and Fergus glowered at Merida. Hamish was looking wide-eyed at his father. Harris’ gaze stayed steady on Elinor. 

Elinor stepped in front of Merida, not raising her sword. Yet. She didn’t know if she would be able to, against her own children. That was what got her into this mess in the first place, wasn’t it? 

“No.” 

MERIDA: In her years living in Best Castle, she’d never arrived in this room either. The castle was not something she’d ever wanted to explore. It reminded her too much of the home she’d never return to after all– and in all its brokenness and unfinished pieces, she had heard her mam’s voice, and always walked the other way– straight out the door and into the woods, where Merida had always felt much more at home. 

She cursed herself now for her cowardice. Because she’d led them into a dead end and now when she whirled around, the DunBrochs were trapped in one place for the first time in years. 

Fergus. Elinor. Merida. Harris. Hubert. Hamish. 

Merida’s eyes darted from man to boy. There was a volcanic pressure in her chest that wanted to erupt and turn into something– something like tears, something like shouting, something like begging her Da to look at her (he wasn’t looking at her), something like runnin’ cross the room to gather the wee ones into her arms, smother them with sloppy kisses and noogies for those unruly red curls. 

Instead, Merida drew her own sword. 

“Elinor,” said Da then, those big, blue eyes soft and watery. He spread his arms on either side, so his sword was no longer pointed forward. “Please. She is not your family. We are your family.” 

“Can ye just shut up, already?” Merida barked from behind. “Mam’s not the one trying to kill anyone!” 

“Da…” squeaked Hamish. “S-she looks the same…” 

“Of course I do! I am the same!” 

“It’s a trick,” said Hubert. He was frowning, but he had the most solid stance. “That’s how shifters are.”

“Exactly, boys. She killed your sister.” Fergus’s brow furrowed. He pointed the sword again, now at Merida. “My daughter.” 

“If that’s true, I would’ve killed Mam too. I’d’ve already ripped all of ye apart,” said Merida. “But– I’m not–” 

And she tossed her sword down. “I won’t! So just– gah, I can’t believe I’m sayin’ it, but can we all just talk it out?” 

The tension in the room doubled as the triplets shifted their stance– but otherwise didn’t move. Fergus readjusted the grip on his sword. 

“Mam,” murmured Merida, inching closer to her. She had always been better with words. 

ELINOR: Merida’s sword clang to the ground, but Elinor just readjusted the grip on hers, mirroring her ex-husband. She wasn’t going to leave them unarmed. Elinor wouldn’t raise a blade against her children, but if it came down to it: she’d run Fergus through. 

Or she’d try, at the very least. 

“He doesn’t want to talk, Merida,” Elinor said with a scornful glance at Fergus. “If he did--we wouldn’t be in this mess.” 

If he had ever wanted to talk--about anything, maybe they wouldn’t be in this mess. But talking about Merida--or not talking about Merida--was just another mistake in the grand scheme of Elinor’s life. Of Elinor’s marriage. Her and Fergus had never talked about anything. They existed in uneasy peace, Fergus behind a wall, Elinor a beautiful vase, set out on the table to be admired.

She had shattered long ago and now all those ugly, horrible parts of herself spilled out. And Fergus had crumbled too, his parts even uglier and more horrible. Because at least Elinor was a good mother. Or she tried to be. She wanted to be. 

“I don’t want to talk to a beast in the shape of my daughter,” Fergus snarled. “Isn’t it painful, Elinor? To look at her and think about our baby girl?” 

Elinor felt her heart burn. “No, because she’s right here.”

“She’s tricked you! You just--cannae see it, my love. Come, the boys miss you. We miss you.” 

“Mam, please, come home.” That was Hubert. He had come here looking the most sure but when he spoke some of that toughness cracked and she saw the little boy beneath, who needed his mother. 

“Hugh,” she said. “You don’t have to fight me. Either of us. We aren’t hurting anyone. The Order only takes care of people who are hurting others.” 

“She’s right,” Harris said in his characteristic, analytic way.

“Ach! Can’t you see? She’s just trying to protect the beast, who isn’t weak at all. If it didnae suit her to look weak, to look like your sister, she’d be maulin’ you right here on the floor!” 

“Stop!” Elinor snapped, feeling an anger as black as the fur of her bear begin to rise in her chest. It made her dizzy and her sword tip dropped into the dirt, her wrist limp against the weight of the metal. She took a deep breath. 

“Mam?” Hamish murmured, echoed by Harris, all three of the boys looking at her wearily. 

“I’m fine, boys. I just--I wish you would listen to me. No one is going to hurt you here. I love you. Merida loves you.” 

MERIDA: Merida had forgotten about the bear.

She often did. Because the bear and Elinor were opposites in Merida’s eyes. Elinor was regal, composed, graceful, and elegant– everything that Merida could never be. The bear, though, was a beast– snarly, ugly, intent on destruction. Only when her Mam’s wrist dropped and she took a deep breath did all those warning signs set off the alarm in Merida’s head. Shite. They couldn’t have the bear makin’ a royal appearance, not today. She wasn’t even sure Fergus knew the bear existed. It certainly wouldn’t help their case. 

C’mon, Mam, stay calm, she urged in her own brain. Which meant she needed to stay calm too. 

Funny, innit? How Merida, in this moment, found her own center in the middle of a storm.

She took a step forward, though still behind Elinor. She raised her hands in surrender, though it was just a gesture. “Listen to me,” she said, trying to make her voice smooth and calm. She only looked at her brothers. All the years she’d been away flashed in front of her. They’d all gotten so much taller, all looked so different– not just from her own memory, but from each other. She’d always been able to tell them apart, by the way they wore their expressions so differently on their faces. But now they each wore the Order too, and she could see the way it changed them– or wanted to change them. 

Hubert, who had adopted Fergus’s confident snarl. Harris, who preferred not to look bothered at all. Hamish– who was worried. He kept lookin’ at Mam the most. It all broke Merida’s heart. 

 “I– I’m sorry,” Merida blurted. She was still trying to stay calm, but tears peppered her eyes. “I’m sorry, alright, that I got bit. I failed all of ye– I broke our family. I know I did, but I never wanted to. If I could go back, I would, in a second. I’d give up me wolf.” It hurt to say at this point, but in the face of her kin, she yearned for their raucous dinners, the camping trips, even the arguments that didn’t end with swords pointed at each other’s throats. 

“But I can’t go back. All I can do is fix it the way I am. So I’m sorry, and I– I swear I’m still me. Give me a chance to prove it to ye. That’s all I want, just a chance.” 

“Shut yer maw, beast,” growled Fergus, threatening as thunder. 

But Merida could see– in Hamish’s eyes at least– even more hesitation. 

“Mam,” said Hamish, as his brow crumpled further. He took another step toward Elinor as he began to lower the sword. “Y-you trust her?” 

“Hamish!” Fergus snapped. “Back to your position, boy!” 

ELINOR: Elinor’s heart broke for her daughter. It had broken so many times over the past years that she wasn’t even sure where all the pieces were anymore. Scattered about Cawdor Castle. Dropped deep in the lochs of Scotland. With Fergus, with her children--both living and dead. 

But the way Merida spoke now…it made Elinor furious. She wanted to claw Fergus’ eyes out of his blasted head. She didn’t need the bear’s anger, she had the anger of a mother. How could Fergus look at their daughter and see a beast? How could he look at her and see anything other than a scared girl, who wanted her family back, who blamed herself for all of this? Elinor wanted to turn to her and cradle her face in her hands, kiss her all over her freckles, the way she used to do when Merida was small. She couldn’t do that. Now was not the time. 

Instead, she just reached back and touched Merida’s hand, hoping that the gesture would help. Even just a little bit. 

Her eyes snapped toward Hamish as he moved towards her. Sweet Hamish. He was just as brave as his brothers, just in a different way. Elinor smiled at him, tears in her eyes. 

“Yes, baby,” she coaxed, ignoring Fergus. “I’ve lived with her all this time. And she’s just like you all remember. Worse, even. She’s more bold and brash than ever, but she loves you all. We both do.” 

Hamish glanced at his father, who was glowering. “Don’t take another step.” 

It was Harris who moved then, coming up behind his brother and putting a hand on his shoulder. His mouth was set in a pale, straight line; his eyes gave nothing away. They never did. He looked so pale, skinnier than his brothers. Was he eating alright? Was he sick? Elinor wanted to gather all of them into her arms, even Hubert--who was still sneering, a mirror image of his father. 

Hamish looked back at Harris uncertainly, not sure if his brother was going to pull him back or urge him on. Elinor suspected that Harris wasn’t quite sure either. 

“We--should hear them out,” Harris finally said evenly. 

MERIDA: Yes, Merida had broken her family. But maybe she really could fix it.

Her heart stuttered twice as fast as she saw the opportunity rise from her words. The fear had faded from her brothers’ eyes. They were thinking twice– at least with Harris, this made sense. He was always one to think twice; his pranks benefited from that, always twice as clever and annoying as anything straightforward Hubert or silly Hamish could dream up. She needed him to use that brain now, to sway her brothers’ minds if not their hearts. She could take care of that last step. But just fill in the cracks– give them all something solid to stand on!

She saw it happening. And for all the years she’d spent in Swynlake, and the small steps she’d taken to become more of the community again… only now did she see her redemption, here, with her brothers. 

Even Hubert was hesitating now, his line of sight darting around frantically. She understood that confusion even better than Hamish’s longing for peace, Harris’s calm pragmatism. She could be the one to turn Hubert now too. 

“Hugh,” she addressed him. “C’mon. Just– an hour. An hour and then if ye want to kick me ass, ye can. Though I won’t make it easy on ye.” 

Hubert breathed a little harder. He looked at Harris–

Harris nodded.

Hubert started to lower this sword–

“NO!” Fergus roared and what happened next happened in a blur. Her father barrelled forward and he aimed his sword straight for Merida’s heart. 

The wolf inside her cried out and wanted to burst from her skin. But the magic drain had created a cavern inside of Merida it could not jump over. Merida’s eyes widened and she did something she never did–

She froze. 

ELINOR: There wasn’t a moment of thought. 

One moment, Elinor was smiling at her sons, who she hadn’t seen in a whole year, her heart lifting at the possibility of her family, her children, coming back to her--

The next: a large, black bear was roaring loud enough to shake the stones as scraps of fabric drifted down to the ground like petals. On its back haunches, the bear reached almost to the ceiling. The room they were in was small, with its hulking mass everyone scrambled backwards. The sword that had been coming for Merida diverted as the bear’s large paw knocked into the man’s shoulder, sending him sprawling to the side.

There was a shout and Hubert rushed forward. The bear fell down onto its front paws and it roared again, eyes flashing. Hubert stopped in his tracks. Even in the heat of the summer, the bear’s breath blew in a warm, white cloud, fogging Hubert’s sword. The bear’s ears twitched, staring at the boy, but not making any other move. There was a strange, familiar smell in this place. No enemies--

The bear’s hesitation gave Fergus just enough time to scramble to his feet.

“Oi! You demon! You beast! Leave my boy alone!” The man charged again, the sword slashing against the bear’s shoulder. 

She turned with a snarl and knocked the man across the face this time with a paw larger than his head. The man, stunned, stumbled backwards towards the low set window that was letting in a dusty grey stream of light. For a moment, it looked as if he was just going to brace himself against the glass but as his hand reached out to steady himself, the brittle, ancient glass gave way. Fergus lost his footing on the slippery, dry hay that littered the floor and before anyone could do anything about it--

He fell from the window, disappearing from sight. All that was left were the dust mites that danced in the air in the place disturbed. 

MERIDA: Thunder shook the castle.

Except that it wasn’t thunder– it was a beastly roar that bellowed from the chest of a hulking brown bear. Merida was on the floor. She’d stumbled back when Elinor transformed. Her eyes were blasted wide as she stared up at Elinor, stretched to her full height, all fangs and fur and claws. “Mam!” she cried out, but she could not stop what was coming next. For there was a storm in the castle, and it was Elinor’s fury. Nothing had ever been able to slow her mother down. 

And so Merida’s father charged. 

Elinor’s mother attacked.

Merida launched herself toward her brothers. She got her hands on Harris and Hamish, who had been next together and still were. She dragged them back, but she could not stop them from seeing Fergus plunge out the window.

“DA!” her brothers all screamed at once.It was too late though. There was only broken glass where he had stood, glinting like diamonds in the sun.  

The bear swung her head to look at her children, all crying and screaming. 

Merida had no reason to believe Elinor wouldn’t come after them next. Especially as Hubert scrambled ‘cross the floor for a sword. 

“NO!” she shouted at him. “RUN! RUN, NOW!” 

She shoved her brothers toward the door. They stumbled out. And Merida slammed the door behind ‘em, not sure how long that would hold Elinor’s fury.

[marvosa-yroz]

Favorite trope: aroace eldest siblings

EDIT: I’M SORRY PEOPLE I FORGOT MERIDA!

EDIT 2: I ALSO FORGOT ISABELA, MY BAD! 

EDIT 3: THIS WILL BE MY LAST EDIT GUYS, FORGOT GRIZZ!

[zergula]

Welcome to The Kingdom Of Kaodina

The Kingdom Of Kaodina welcomes you to our bustling yet ancient town! Our townsfolk are living their best lives as their ancestors did before them. It's a simple life in Kaodina but luckily, the townsfolk seem to have special abilities to make it a little more exciting! There's mischievous fairies, wicked witches, wild werewolves, vicious vampires, and even beautiful mermaids everywhere! There are fantasy homes, ruins, and lots of parks for your sim to explore!

I have played Moonlight Falls and Dragon Valley far too many times. I wanted a new fantasy/medieval/tudor world to play in so I decided to try making my own! I found this gorgeous map by JanasCreatives and just had to make my very own perfect new tudor town!

Interesting Characters

There are a lot of townies from Dragon Valley and Moonlight Falls here: The MacAnna Sisters, Robin Hooley, The Dolans, The O'Connells, The Goodfellows, The MacDuffs, Chaucey Grimm, Gladsten Farmwell, John Burb, Siobahn Murphy, Bailey and Chester Swain.

The Mudd Family is a farming family! They love to get their hands in the mud to plant, build, and more! You'll see them tending to their garden on their lovely lot all of the time!

The Blossom Fairies are best fairy friends and probably 99% responsible for all of the shenanigans around town.

Cordelia Morgan has been a resident of The Kingdom Of Kaodina since the beginning…mostly because they can't keep her out of Kaodina Bay. She is a daughter of the sea king!

Flora Root loves her little house on the peninsula. She can practice her alchemy potions, let her garden thrive, and all with an absolutely beautiful view!

Around Town

27 community lots 74 residential lots

There is lots to do in The Kingdom Of Kaodina! Along with all EA rabbitholes, there is:

Splash Mountain Rollercoaster by soocoolsim - set as a beach, your sims can lay under the sun, swim, snorkel, play in the water, or even ride an amazing rollercoaster!

Camp Plumbob by ruthlesskk - even medieval sims still like to camp so bring them down to this beach and pick your favorite tent!

Royal Bulldog Pub by XOX1 - you can definitely meet some interesting folks at this dive bar!

The Old Mill - a smaller version of SimGuruKitty's Old Mill, you can catch only the best fish here. It's the town's best secret

The Three Broomsticks by elle0808 - a lovely cafeteria where your sims can enjoy all kinds of different delicacies from around the world

Kaodina Market And Nectary - lots of fun trinkets to find here or sell your own! You will be surprised at the nectar selection as well!

Kaodina Entertainment District is where you will find the grocery store, theater, bijou, and a fun arcade with all games.

The Opera House And Casino is Kaodina's Live Show Venue where you can see your favorite performer, play some casino games, or both!

Country Bear Jamboree by Sandraelle - this is where all of the locals gather to have some fun

Kaodina Library has a lot of books and you can buy some at its bookstore, too! The Vault of Antiquity is here for all of your deep research needs. The Wyeth Institute art gallery is right next door!

Visit the Gypsy Camp by LariFari2009 to purchase potions and glimpse into your future…for a price, of course.

Prosperity Lounge and Casino by Joolster - a dance club with an underground live music room

Notre Dame de Paris by soocoolsim - an absolutely gorgeous recreation of the Notre Dame where your sims can get married, or get buried.

Kaodina Fire And Rescue - a small station on a big lot with everything you need for the firefighter career.

Construction Pete's Junkyard - a small junkyard with lots of treasures to be found!

The Duke Of Bows Renaissance Fair - store venue edited a bit by me and set as the town gym

The Kalua Pool by Snowmoon - a cool oasis pool ready for your next party

DunBroch Archery by Sandraelle - a recreational park where you can practice your archery, martial arts, or just enjoy the scenery

Orchard House - a community garden hangout with a working tractor so you can grab those goodies even faster. Who says a medieval town can't be a little modern?

Other Important Info

Kaodina is a medium world. I have all expansions, all stuff packs, and all store content so I am sure most of it is used in this save. If you do not have some of the items, the game will generate another item in its place. The only expansion not used is PETS so I am not sure how it will perform with pets and horses, etc. but there is plenty of room for them. This is a world save file so you will have to have the world installed in order to play the save file. In this download there is the world download and 3 save files:

KaodinaCommunityLots - this save is only the community lots, no residential houses

KaodinaUnpopulated - this is the final version of the save with zero households

KaodinaPopulated - this is the final version of the save with all households

There is zero custom content in this save

I hope you enjoy! Please tag me @zergula or hashtag #kaodina in any posts or photos you share because I would love to see them. You can check out my other world saves here: River Falls and here: Simarellen Happy simming!

SIMFILESHAREDOWNLOAD

[thepixarau]

So I keep talking about that Pixar Super Smash bros idea and I’m going to continue because I think it would be cool

So the character roster would be: Woody, Buzz, Sulley, Mike, Jessie, Flik, Mr. Incredible, WALL-E, Dory, Ember, Ian, Atta, Joy, Barley, Wade, Merida, Elastigirl, Imelda, EVE, McQueen, Joe, Syndrome, Remy, Mater, Bo Peep, Dash, Violet, Jack-Jack, Sadness, Bing-Bong, Hopper, Doc Hudson, Linguini, 22, Luca, Alberto, Giulia, Meilin, Latso, Arlo, Spot, Anger, Disgust, Fear, Harris Hubert & Hamish, Marlin, Nemo, Crush, Randal, Carl, Dug, Héctor, Miguel, Ernesto, Evelyn/Screenslaver, Ming Lee, and probably even more! Or maybe some of these would just be spirit fighters/bosses

Arena ideas: Andy’s Bedroom, Sunnyside daycare, Monsters Inc. factory, 4*Town concert arena, Ant Island, Radiator Springs, Gusteau’s restaurant/city of Paris, Portorosso, DunBroch castle, Element City, East Australian Current, Carl’s house (as it floats around buildings and clouds and eventually ends in Paradise Falls), Riley’s mind (switches between Honesty Island, Goofball Island, etc), Land of the Dead, Monsters University campus, The Great Before, a Cars’ themed racing arena, Clawtooth Mountain, Bug City, the Axiom, Pizza Planet, P Sherman’s dentist office, and many more!

Special items: the Pixar ball that you can throw at opponents, a plate of ratatouille (and other dishes from the movie) that can heal damage, an Incredibles mask that temporarily gives you one of the families’ powers, a Zurg arm-cannon that shoots tennis balls, and of course the Assist Trophy that calls another character to aid you in battle! I imagine characters from this item would be like Pepita, Rex, Kevin, Sox, Massimo, AUTO, Gale, the circus bugs, Jackson Storm, Fergus, Bruce, etc. Basically characters that had some importance in the movies’ but that I don’t think would be in the official playable roster

[handsswritten]

mericcup month | week 1: movies

find this on spanish here! ¡toca acá para leerlo en español!

(A/N) english is not my first language and this is actually the first time i'm posting my writing translated, so keep that in mind.

just very fluffy mericcup with... a little twist. (no nsfw)

word count: 693

“Adventure is out there!” we shouted, bringing our faces closer together.

She threw her head back laughing, and I tried to keep looking at her in the midst of my own laughter, my narrowed eyes making the task almost impossible.

“You intimidated me the first day we met,” I said, trying to get her attention. And it worked; those turquoise eyes were now looking at me, as she covered her mouth with one hand.” And you made me swear crossing my heart that I would fly you in a blimp to the place of your dreams.“

She peeled her palm from his face.

“Paradise Falls.” She whispered softly, gazing at the floor tenderly. Her nostalgia was mine too.

Gods, I love her.

“You also forcibly joined me to your club and practically broke my arm, but those are only details.” She laughed again and I settled a little more on the bed, trying to look as casual as possible.

Her legs crossed Indian style were very close to mine, facing each other, sitting on what today officially became our married bed.

“You, also,” I poked her “insulted my prosthetic leg, but that's just another detail.” This time she pretended she wasn't amused, giving me an offended shove.

“I remember it very differently”

I ran my hands up and down her legs instead of answering, that white, smooth skin, full of beautiful ginger freckles. They drove me crazy.

“You barged into my club house when I was in the middle of an exploration, and you weren't talking! at all!”

I shook my head in amusement.

“You never gave me room. With that crazy hair” I ran a hand through her curls, tucking them behind her shoulders. “Those medals made out of soda pop caps and those missing baby teeth, which most likely didn't fall out on their own-

She pushed me back, harder this time, making me lay back on the bed.

“Besides, you were... too much. Taller than me, braver, more alive.” She settled down next to me, resting that curly head on my chest. I ignored the heat on my face because, for Thor's sake, we were already married. I took a breath and let it out. “I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you when you left out the window that night, Mer.”

She settled further into me, as if I were a pillow, and we laid in comfortable silence. Just feeling her breathing and mine slowly synchronize. I closed my eyes and hugged her, remembering the time she had announced her presence by tying my blue balloon to a stick and sending it in my direction.

I had never felt so much peace in my life. Now, at this moment, i mean. The night she sent me the balloon I hit my face twice with my own cast and made an oath I couldn't take back.

I didn't want to, anyway.

I don't want to.

“You know, Hiccup?” I answered with a hmm, too comfortable to open my eyes. “My dream was always to go to Paradise Falls, land lost in time," she said the whole name, and as she said it, I did in my mind too. ”But I think I already found another one.”

Before I could ask, she added; “Another dream.” She passed one of her legs over mine, “Kill me for being corny, but being here, in your arms, is my land lost in time. Only we're not lost, because I find myself in you, every day. And I know it's always going to be that way.” I smiled, knowing that our lives had become an adventure since we met, and would be no matter what.

I took the stick I had tied a blue balloon to earlier and stuck it in the ground next to her headstone.

“Adventure is out there, it's always going to be that way, Mer. Let’s go buddy.” I caressed his head and he purred, that beautiful, soft vibration being the only comfort I have left.

Merida DunBroch

Woman, daughter, sister, wife and most importantly: the bravest dreamer this world has ever had the pleasure of knowing

[naivesilver]

also. pick any five questions you like the look of and designate one question to five characters of your own choice (either the court or five entirely different ocs, or a mix, it's completely up to you) 💖💕💖 hope you have fun with these!

I'm doing this one first because the other one will require a bit more time but!!!!! Now I can branch out!!!!!!!

Said Pinocchio Vampire Slayer

Cocktail OC Asks

𝗯𝗹𝘂𝗲 𝗵𝗮𝘄𝗮𝗶𝗶 〜 does your oc speak any other language(s)? if they didn’t learn to speak the language(s) when they were growing up, when and why did they learn it?

Pierrot: French, some Russian, all the Italian he picked up from Marco and that he uses to bother Pinocchio on the daily, a smattering of Arabic that comes from hanging out at Twinkle's house. We love a multilingual king (:

𝗹𝗼𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝗰𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗲𝗮 〜 who are some of your oc’s best friends?

Amelia: Julio and Hernando Madrigal, her brother Alberto and, in high school years, Moira of Dunbroch (Merida's niece and heir)

𝗱𝗶𝗿𝘁𝘆 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗮𝗻𝗮 〜 post a song or a lyric that fits your oc

Leona: Be Still by The Fray

Be still and know that I'm with you/And I will say your name/If terror falls upon your bed/And sleep no longer comes I know it's an overused song but I love the lullaby-esque rhythm and the idea of her being a comforting presence in the night ok

𝗰𝗵𝗼𝗰𝗼𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗶 〜 does your oc’s name or design reference anything? i.e. music, movies, etc.

Mignon: ok so obviously her whole character is based on Mignon from Wilhelm Meisters Lehrjahre as I have previously said, but to create her I used multiple details from the same source. Book!Mignon is described as androgynous, somewhat genderless, so her appearance in the fic is more masculine and her clothes and hair accentuate this contrast. Her curse name is Mariane, AKA Wilhelm Meister's first love, because he kept doing this weird thing where he compared them/suspected them of the same actions etc and the two names had a similar sound. In the OG story she travelled with two travelling companies of performers, hence why she's a amateur actress and Pierrot's sort of friend in the AU. Shit like that dkkhsafjashkj

𝗺𝗶𝗺𝗼𝘀𝗮 〜 has your oc ever committed any crimes? if so, what did they do? if not, what would they be most likely to commit?

Eliana: she committed arson once. She would do it again in a heartbeat.

[coalitiongirl]

Fic Recs (under 300 edition)

So I wanted to get back to reading Swan Queen fic regularly, and I asked people to rec longfic that they'd read (not written) and loved that had fewer than 300 kudos! I haven’t read most of these, but I’ve collected them here so y’all can go through the list and discover some new fics with me! Please try to kudos and review every fic that you read! It means the world to the writers and will keep em writing, and then we all win. 😁

Atonement by SgtMac (M): With Regina's magical heart failing thanks to years of previous evil, Emma and Regina and Henry (and Granny!) set out to save her life by traveling to the Enchanted Forest and requesting help from ancient magical beings known as the Guardians. Given a mission as simple as it is impossible - to achieve atonement by creating peace - the ladies find themselves joining a rebellion and fighting for the very soul of the Enchanted Forest all while trying to help Regina to understand that the self-loathing and guilt which have driven most of her actions don't have to doom her chance for a new beginning or even, a chance to live and love again. A S4(ish) SQ love story set against the turmoil of war and the chaotic savagery of the old world.

Blood and Sand by cheshire6845 (E): A/U The Savior is a slave forced into the role of fighting as a gladiator for the House of Hearts. The odds are against her survival as she will have to win in the arena, navigate Cora's schemes, outlast a general's vengeance, and not be killed out of spite by the current House of Hearts Champion - Regina the Undefeated. This story follows the major plot points of Starz Spartacus with some twists along the way.

But what if there was no time by KizuRai (M): When she wakes up, it's dark. She can't move, she can't see, she can't feel and she can't hear. Where am I? She feels a forceful oppression, pressing her down, draining her of her energy and she's powerless to stop it. How did I get here? The question of here is relative, she's not even sure where here is. What happened? There must be some reason for being stuck here but her memory is fuzzy, like all her thoughts are being sifted through a filter. Who am I? She's not sure if she actually exists or she suddenly became sentient in the darkness.She hears a voice reverberating in the distance, it's distorted and quiet but she hears it all the same. It breaks the monotony of the silence. Someone's coming for her, they will get her out. She's just not sure she wants them to as the price might be too great.

Finding Home by evl_rgl (T): “I wanted to remember you so badly that I pulled back your cursed town just so that the memories would make sense. I needed you so badly that even when I had no memory of you, I still tried to find you.” Regina gave Emma and Henry memories of a happy life together before they fled Pan’s curse, leaving them with no memories of their lives in Storybrooke. However, when the memory spell shows signs of failing, threatening to rip apart the minds of both Emma and Henry, Regina makes a drastic choice to go back and fix it, understanding that it will mean living alone in a world where her son doesn’t know her. Was the spell really faulty, though? (swanqueen)

Five Flames by MariaComet (U): In the past, Emma Nolan disconnected from her peers in high school, preferring to keep to herself. In her sophomore year of high school, she decided to try and join the boy’s wrestling team because she was bored. She didn’t expect herself to become the champion of the most bullied kid in school or the secret best friend of the school queen. She also didn’t expect to join a club that would change her life. In the present, Emma is trying to cope with a humiliating loss in her martial arts career. She claims to be “training” but is stuck in limbo between wanting to retire and try again. She is isolated from her former best friend, Regina Mills, a local celebrity chef and the rest of her old friends. When one of them calls her with an idea to honor their deceased teacher, she is confronted with unresolved feelings and questions about how powerful love truly is.

A Glamour of Truth by PrincessCharming (T): After 2x10, Regina uses magic to show Emma the obvious truth. A tentative trust forms between them amid hilarious bickering. With Emma's help, Regina struggles to regain a place in her son's life... until Cora arrives, wanting her daughter back. Pieces of Regina's past emerge showing that the board was set long before the game started. The final battle begins soon.

His Dark Materials 'verse by MoonlitMidnight (M): A modern Alternate Universe in which Dæmons (the external physical manifestation of a person's 'inner self' that takes the form of an animal) are present. In which Emma and Regina have led slightly different lives and they make slightly different choices.

How Many Miles to Avalon? (WIP) by RavenOutlander (E): Regina would do anything to save Emma from the darkness and bring her back home safe and sound. Even put up with the two idiots, Captain Guyliner and a bunch of dwarves she decidedly wanted to drop off at the nearest exit. But in their search for Emma, they find that she might not need that much saving after all. Caught up in a search for the infamous Philosopher Stone, an all out war between DunBroch and Camelot, and ghosts from the past to haunt her every waking moment, Regina finds herself scrambling to keep her and her family's happy endings from falling apart.

The Hyperion by FrankenSpine (M): After wishing upon what she believes is a shooting star, Emma Swan finds herself aboard the Hyperion, the royal starship of an alien Queen from a faraway galaxy. She quickly learns of the tensions between the Queen's people and her own, but the Queen takes an interest in her and agrees to take her away from Earth forever. Adventure awaits. *(Loosely based on Guardians of the Galaxy with just a hint of Farscape)*

If Wishes Came True (It Would've Been You) by Angeii_K (M): After Regina films a guest appearance on her friend Neal’s popular show, he invites her to spend the weekend with him and his girlfriend. What she never expected was to actually like the woman. Sparks fly between the two, which results in them questioning everything and making choices they will later regret. 4 years later, they meet again in the most unexpected of ways. Now co-stars on the same show, they are forced to work through the emotions from their last encounter. What will happen next? Only time will tell.

The King Doesn’t Have To Know (WIP) by highheelsandchocolate (M): The White Knight had never seen anyone like her before: the Queen was nothing short of mesmerizing. Her possessive yet neglectful husband, however, was another thing entirely.

The Lich by Dangereaux (M): Gay disaster Emma, exasperated Regina, and a monster. A Halloween special.

Maybe if We Close Our Eyes we Can Reach the Stars by wellthizizdeprezzing (T): Emma is a lonely astronaut. Regina is an adventuring alien. Their paths cross leading them onto a journey of new discovery. Between galaxies and many miles of cold black space, despite not speaking the same language, they manage to fall for each other. An out of this world love story.

A prisoner long forgotten by sugarsweet_19 (M): ‘I wish I had a child as white as snow, as red as blood and as black as the wood of the window-frame. Soon after she had a little girl, who was as white as snow, with lips as red as blood and with her hair as black as the ebony of the window-frame. She was therefore called Snow-white.” This is how our story starts but how will it end?The evil queen as been locked up in a tower and forgotten that is until princess Emma looks for a place to hid from her parents after they tell her she has to marry Neal the son of the dark one.

Revenge of the Three Little Pigs by mskyo (M): Regina and Emma find themselves alone and looking for the rest of their party. The Evil Queen must face the consequences of her past actions. Will Emma come to her aid, or understand that justice must be served... *Some chapters have fairly graphic sex, and violence*

Things I Almost Remember by cheshire6845 (T): A/U Despite an oncoming war between the Dark and the Light, Emma and Regina are best friends growing up in the Enchanted Forest. When war does come, they find themselves on opposite sides. Regina will have to defy her mother to save Emma. Will Emma be able to save Regina when Cora curses her daughter to live in the Land without Magic?

What We Make (WIP) by DiazTuna (M): “My mother.” He says calmly. He’d known all along, she’s aware. But he’d known that today would be the day that would get this going. She wants to ask what it was like, to have woken up this morning, laced up his boots and walked into hell just knowing. “It’s programmed the cyborg to kill her. Before I have a chance to be born.” -In which the leader of the future sends his best soldier back to the past to save his mother from a killer cyborg. Terminator AU.

The Wrong Way by pcworth (M): Takes place right after Zelena steals Regina's heart. Zelena offers Regina a chance to go back in time with her and change both of their lives for the better. But what will be the price of that decision. Slow-burn to SwanQueen

zombie trash by 13pens (T): Zelena could have her brain and eat it, too. Fic operates on three premises 1. this takes place in any universe where zelena is a reformed asshole 2. zombies are a thing and exist iZombie style 3. i have NO chill

[blue-rose-soul]

Could you do the Big 4 in a Dragon Age AU?

I can indeed!

Was kinda torn about whether I'd make it a general 'drop the cast into the Dragon Age Setting (lol) AU' or center it on a specific game. In the end I decided to center it on Dragon Age: Origins. So all four of them become Grey Wardens and fight the Blight.

Merida DunBroch:

Race: Dwarf

Class: Warrior, Champion

Weapon: Bow

A noble of the house DunBroch, Merida has long dreamt of leading an expedition into the deep roads to push back the darkspawn and reclaim the abandoned thaigs. However, with Orzammar’s declining birth rate there is increasing pressure for her to first marry and produce heirs. Merida, naturally, loathes the idea with every fiber of her being. So when a Grey Warden appears in Orzammar searching for recruits, she jumps at the chance to introduce herself. The warden, Nicholas St. North, enjoys her spirit and grit, but is hesitant to take her without knowing what she is capable of.

Going behind her parents’ back, Merida enters the Proving in order to convince him of her skill and battle prowess. In the final round she faces a noble from a rival house, Mor’Du, who intends to use the Proving as an opportunity to eliminate her and weaken House DunBroch. Complicating matters, Merida’s parents, her mother in particular, attempt to put a stop to the fight. The Proving Master won’t allow them to, and though she takes some nasty blows she is able to beat Mor’Du.  North is sufficiently impressed and offers a position in the Grey Wardens. When Elinor and Fergus attempt to forbid it North is forced to invoke the Right of Conscription.

Leaving for the surface isn’t her primary goal, she just wants a chance to use her skills in real combat and carve out her own reputation. But once she goes topside she quickly falls in love with the world above ground. Even if a certain annoying elf keeps pretending to fall into the sky to scare her. In particular she loves the massive, powerful horses the topsiders ride and at the first opportunity she gets herself a Fereldan Forder named Angus. She feels like she’s found her place among the Grey Wardens.

It isn’t until she returns to Orzammar to find it embroiled in civil war that the weight of her decision to leave really hits her. Fergus has been murdered, Elinor poisoned, and with the princes too young to rule the houses of MacGuffin, Macintosh, and Dingwall are fighting with Mor’Du for claim over the throne. Merida is no longer eligible as a surface dwarf, but as a Grey Warden who knows Orzammar’s politics she ends up sucked into the succession war anyway.

Hiccup:

Race: Human

Class: Rogue, Ranger

Weapon: Dual swords (unique, character specific)

Hiccup is one of the Avvar, a tribe living in the Frostback Mountains. As one of the smaller and weaker members of his tribe, he focuses on finesse and wit in order to fight rather than brute strength. All of his weapons are of his own design, including the sword Inferno which he can ignite without magic. Unfortunately his mind set him apart from his tribe as much as his stature so he grew up feeling like an outcast.

When he was a teenager his tribe found themselves plagued by a mysterious creature that would attack at night, steal food, and disappear. Although all of the warriors attempted to find and slay it, no one ever came close. When Hiccup managed to down it with a device he built none of the others believed him so Hiccup set out on his own to recover the body. He was shocked an appalled to discover that he’d shot down what appeared to be the last living griffon. Thankfully it survived the fall and Hiccup immediately cut it free. The griffon was hostile towards him at first, but Hiccup fed it and nursed it back to health and returned to his tribe the griffon’s partner.

Years later when the Blight begins in Fereldan, his tribe is uprooted and forced to relocate near the edge of the Fallow Mire. By this point Toothless - Hiccup’s name for the griffon - has become a sort of honorary member of the tribe. While scouting for wandering bands of darkspawn, Hiccup encounters North being swarmed by the creatures. He and Toothless rescue him and bring him back to the camp to recover. There North reveals he is searching for Grey Warden recruits. Many of the warriors of their tribe volunteer, but North has already chosen Hiccup, the first griffon-rider in centuries who is a fantastic inventor and clever strategist to boot.

Though skeptical that he is the right choice, Hiccup agrees to go with North to fight the darkspawn, in order to protect his people and his home. He’s hesitant to bring Toothless, but the griffon won’t leave Hiccup’s side. When the Grey Wardens are betrayed and all but the four new recruits are wiped out, Hiccup finds himself positioned as the leader of their small band.

Rapunzel:

Race: Human

Class: Mage, Spirit Healer

Magic focus: Creation, arcane (mastery)

Though she was the only child of the Arl of Denerim, Rapunzel barely remembers her parents because she was sent to the Circle of Magi so young. Her magic manifested very early and she was sent to live in the tower known as Kinloch Hold. Even as a child she was recognized as an especially gifted and powerful mage. But wanting to help change the image of mages as wild, dangerous beings, she focused primarily on healing and defensive magic. That said, she still knows enough offensive spells to hold her own in real combat. Her Harrowing was among the quickest and smoothest in the history of Kinloch Hold.

Though she enjoys the education and protection the tower provides, Rapunzel longs to leave and see the world she’s only ever read about in books. Whenever the tower receives a visitor, she never passes up the opportunity to ask about the world outside. North is one such visitor, and after being told of her skill and mastery by the First Enchanter he expresses an interest in recruiting her into the Grey Wardens. An opportunity Rapunzel is both excited and anxious to accept.

Rapunzel is especially close to Senior Enchanter Gothel, who sometimes treats her like a daughter. Gothel is a Libertarian who despises the Chantry, though she is not vocal about this. She raises Rapunzel to question the Chantry teachings and take pride in her magic. Rapunzel latches onto these lessons, though she blinds herself to some of the less noble implications that Gothel whispers into her ears. Rapunzel dreams of a day when the Circles of Magi can become schools rather than prisons.

When the last four Grey Wardens in Fereldan come to the tower in search of allies, Rapunzel is shocked to find the tower torn apart from within and Gothel leading the abominations. Despite her best efforts to save as many people as she can, Rapunzel is forced to kill the woman she thought of as a mother.

Jack:

Race: Elf

Class: Mage, Battlemage

Magic focus: Spirit, elemental (cold)

Jack was born in the alienage of Edgehall, which has frequent contact with a local Dalish clan. Growing up he had especially vivid dreams, even for a mage, and a natural closeness with the spirits of the fade. Through the tutelage of the Dalish keeper he was able to keep his magic hidden from the templars for many years. At night he wandered the fade freely and even befriended some spirits of hope, wonder, and joy. However, when his sister was attacked by some troublemaking humans he revealed himself to save her. Rather than submitting to the templars, Jack fled into the woods despite it being the middle of winter. The templars chased him across a frozen lake, which shattered beneath his feet. Thinking him dead, the templars abandoned him to his fate.

As Jack’s mind began to slip across the veil the spirit of joy crossed over and entered him, giving him the strength he needed to fight off the cold and pull himself from the water. But the merge was permanent and Jack and joy became one and the same. Knowing he would only endanger his family if he went back, Jack set to wandering Fereldan on his own. For a long time he traveled across the country on his own, mostly sticking to wild places with few human settlements. When he slept he would search out his family through the fade in order to make sure they were alright.

When the darkspawn begin coming to the surface and talk of a Blight reaches his ears, Jack travels back to Edgehall to see if he can help. He can’t enter the city proper, but but he lingers in the woods nearby to keep an eye on things. Around the same time North is in the city looking for potential recruits. When a small band of darkspawn attack the city Jack reveals himself by jumping in to fight them off. The city guard attempt to have him arrested and executed, but North conscripts him right from underneath them.

At first Jack wants absolutely nothing to do with the wardens. He has no desire to be tied to an order and he attempts to flee from North a handful of times on the way to Ostagar. However, once the wardens are wiped out and all that is left is their motley band of four, Jack chooses to remain. When it comes out why only a Grey Warden can slay an Archdemon Jack volunteers to do the deed without hesitation.

[juliaking713]

Okay, let's talk about things we didn't think about:

We always think about which Hogwarts house of the Big Four characters and the "adjacent" fandoms, but we never think which house to send their parents to (more precisely, where to send those parents who were shown to us). I decided to fix it

I apologize in advance for the incorrect spelling of names and names, Google translator does not help much with them, and I only know the versions of the official Russian dubbing (this applies mainly to the parents of characters, about which, in fact, this post( I’ll just leave clarifications next to names I'm not sure))

Let's start with the "Frozen", namely with the parents of Anna and Elsa:

Iduna: I would send her to Hufflepuff, since she probably would have a connection with magical animals (at least one), she is kind, most likely she was not an aristocrat and I think she would be muggle-born or half-breed

Agnar: Slytherin or Ravenclaw, he seems to be smart and kind, but he can also be from an aristocratic family where everyone is completely Slytherin graduates, which could affect the choice of a hat in favor of this house, but on the other hand, he still kind of smart and kind

Next in line are Hiccup's parents:

Valka (mother of Hiccup): Hufflepuff, I think this choice is obvious, kind, loving dragons and has a connection with nature, another house would be strange for her

Stoik (father of Hiccup): Gryffindor, a big brave leader protecting his people, I think it was also obvious

Merida:

Eleanor Dunbroch: Slytherin, come on, we all saw that she has more aristocracy than all Disney princesses combined, if not for the case of becoming a bear, she would still have aunts with Merida

Fergus: Gryffindor, no comment

Rapunzel:

Mother Gothel: Slytherin, let's be honest, she’s ready for everything just to remain forever young and beautiful, she would use dark magic if she were in the Potteriana universe

Ariadne: Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff, kind, smart, talented, I'm almost sure that she would have some kind of magical creature as a pet

Frederick: I have no idea, he was too protective for Rapunzel in the series, but this was formed due to the fact that Gothel abducted her + the difficulties associated with the fact that he almost lost both her and his wife before the birth of Rapunzel

Jack Frost:

His parents were not shown and his family is essentially the Guardians, so I will try to distribute them:

Nicholas North (Santa Claus): Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, firstly we will be honest, he is SANTA CLAUS, secondly he is clearly a great defender of everyone and everything

Bannimund (Easter Bunny): Ravenclaw or Gryffindor, most likely he thinks before acting, although he can be brave

Touth Fairy (Tooth Fairy): Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, asking a child to play with teeth that I quote are “bloodied and with a meat” is not the smartest idea, do you agree?

Sandy Dream (Sandman): Hufflepuff or Gryffindor, a good guy with even better imagination, but if at least a hair fell from the children’s head ... well, we all saw what happened to Pitch when Sandman came to life

So far, only they, but you can offer your options

Headcanons:

If Agnar falls on Slysirin: Agnar and Iduna secretly go on dates with each other, since Iduna's friends do not really trust Agnar because of his faculty. After graduating from Hogwarts, Iduna’s friends are very surprised when she announces that she is Agnar’s bride

Stoic, Nicholas and Fergus get along well and play Quidditch, with them as part of the Gryffindor received the Quidditch Cup for three years in a row.

No one understands how and why Eleanor and Fergus communicate, even they themselves, but hey, what the hell is not joking?

Gotel almost certainly taught dark magic in secret from everyone, she was definitely caught next to the forbidden section a couple of times, but most often she managed to pick up books unnoticed

Ariadne, Iduna and Valka definitely spent a lot of time in Hagrid's hut, they were his favorite students during their studies at Hogwarts

When Sandy went to Hogwarts, he couldn’t find many friends, I think it’s obvious why, he’s mute, it’s difficult to communicate with a guy who can’t talk, but Nicholas and his company decided to help the poor man and taught him how to create figures from sand, and then made friends with him

[mericcuplooks]

mericcup month day 28 - “this job is going to kill me.”

[previous]   [next]

The strangest thing about not living as a princess is not the freedom, it’s not living in a cramped cottage, or even the lack of servants. It’s the fact that things are no longer just given to her. It was a culture shock for Merida to find out that she has to pay for things, and that she no longer has the riches of Dunbroch to fall back on.

While on the run, she and Hiccup had done a few small jobs in different villages to try and earn some money. They never got much out of it, but they made due. Now however, they have a more permanent home in their cottage and with that comes the need for a more permanent income.

Hiccup has the easy job. One of the first things he did when they moved in was build a forge behind the house, and now he’s made quite the reputation as a blacksmith. People pay him to do something he enjoys. Merida envies him.

She’s stuck working as a waitress at the tavern. At first she’d tried to make it as a hunter, but it wasn’t something the village needed, seeing as it was already overflowing with hunters. Nothing else seemed appealing, so she took the first job she could get. She hates it. Sometimes.

A lot of the time she actually quite enjoys it. She gets to be social, and loud, and the patrons loves listening to her jokes and stories. She’s made a few friends while working there, which she finds amazing since she didn’t have many of those back home.

A lot of the time it’s good, but with good there’s always some bad.

The patrons can be rude and condescending. She urges to tell them she’s a princess, but manages to keep her mouth shut. The worst parts are the late nights, when the smell of ale and sound of drunk men fill the tavern. They’re always so loud, aggressive, whiny and, worst of all, handsy.

As much as she complains about getting out of bed, she prefers working early mornings.

The only good part of working during the night, is going back home. The woods are so peaceful at night, and the quiet is comforting after coming from the loud tavern. Her legs may ache from being on her feet for hours, but at least she gets to crawl into bed and Hiccup’s warm embrace as soon as she gets home.

He welcomes her with a kiss on the forehead and a “How was your day?”

She answers with “This job is going to kill me.” And he holds her tighter. She melts in his embrace, once again reminded why she chose this life.

She closes her eyes and gets ready to sleep. She’s got to get up early in the morning.

[edream93]

You’re a Gryffindor, Hook: Year 2, Part 1

Okay, so I thought I posted already this but then Tumblr ate it? So essentially, here’s part 1 of Year 2 of “You’re a Gryffindor, Hook” . You can also read it on AO3. Enjoy!

She ignored the stares and odd looks she received as she made her way into the stands. It wasn’t a surprise that she stood out with her emerald green robe in a sea of red and gold. 

A snake in the lions’ den, she thought with a roll of her eyes, unconsciously holding herself taller. Honestly, she would have thought they would have gotten used to it by now. 

But this wasn’t the first, nor would it be the last time that Uma Tritaea gained stares. It had become almost a daily nuisance since her first class where she chose her best friend, her closest confidant, over a centuries old house rivalry. Shouldn’t the noble and brave Gryffindors know something or two about loyalty? 

Several older Gryffindors hissed as she passed them by. She hopped smoothly over a purposefully extended leg that happened to be in her path. Uma made a mental note of them. She would get them back with stinging hexes that would have them howling anytime they tried to sit on their behinds. 

Not now though. Too many untrusting eyes watching the Slytherin witch. Now she had to be on her best behavior. After all, there was a reason she was in the stands belonging to the house of lions. 

“Anyone sitting here?” she asked a familiar looking boy. Ben, she thought. From Herbology. He was one of the few Gryffindors that didn’t make Uma want to hex them.

“Yes!” a brunette girl sitting next to him glared at Uma just as Ben said “No,” already making room and genuinely giving a smile that took Uma off guard.

“What Audrey means is, it’s all yours. Promise,” he said, his smile growing impossibly brighter despite his companion’s glare twisting into an offended sneer as Uma gave a nod of thanks, sitting down. Ben opened his mouth, as if to say more but was interrupted by the game’s announcer. 

Diego DeVil, a fourth year Slytherin boy that Uma always saw flirting with anything with legs at their house table - the ghosts included - sat with microphone in hand at the stand where the professors, other school staff, and a few bored looking representatives of the Ministry were congregated. 

“Hello ladies, gents, and non-binary friends to the first match of the season, Gryffindor versus Slytherin!” DeVil smoothly crooned into the ancient looking mic, waiting a moment for the crowd’s enthusiastic screams to die down. “This is surely going to be one for the books, folks! The players are now getting into position as Madame DunBroch steps out onto the field to begin the game!”

What looked like small figures, in red or greens, hovered hundreds of feet above the ground on their brooms as the fiery red haired Gamekeeper and Flight Instructor walked towards the sealed chest in the middle of the field. 

“Which team are you watching for?” Ben startled Uma out of her intense stare of the field just as Madame DunBroch released the bludgers and the snitch, the small gold ball a fleeting speck of glimmer in the air before disappearing. It was a strange question, Uma thought. After all, it was the assumption that if your house was playing, you were cheering for them. 

Uma’s gaze was instantly drawn to the source of an excited crowing that she could still easily pick out despite the loud roar of the crowd as the quaffle was thrown up into the air.

“Not watching for a team,” she said, watching as one of the players in Gryffindor red snatched the quaffle from the air, taking off with surprising speed towards the Slytherin goal post.

Merlin, she hoped that her idiot of a best friend didn’t get himself hurt. Again. (Harriet had a habit of sending both Harry and Uma a howler when Harry got himself in dumb situations.)

Uma found herself sitting up straight and tense, hands fisted in her robes as she watched one of the new Slytherin beaters, a second year named Jay Abanazar, sneak up from behind and club a bludger at the Gryffindor chaser. Uma leaned forward, eyes never leaving the chaser as he quickly spun out of the path of the bludger with fluid ease and scoring in one move.

“Whoa! Looks like the infamous second year Harry Hook is trying to make a statement, scoring the first goal of the game!” DeVil chuckled despite the obvious booing coming from the Slytherin stands. A little bit of tension released from Uma’s shoulders as Harry completely bypassed the few members of his team that attempted to congratulate him. Instead, to Uma’s annoyed amusement, he flew towards the Gryffindor stands, blue eyes on her. 

“Ye see that?!” He grinned, all windswept hair and boyish charm as he leaned forward on his broom to get as close as possible to her. “Uma, did ye see that shot?”

“Harry! The game is still going!” One of his teammates yelled as they zoomed past, chasing one of the Slytherin chasers, a sixth year with long ice blonde hair pulled into a high bun, who now had the quaffle. But Harry didn’t even look back, waiting expectantly for Uma’s response with a wide grin. 

“Yeah, you did good Hook,” Uma allowed herself to smirk as she tried to push him away. “Now go and try to make Jay cry.”

Harry’s grin widened as he grabbed her hand, pressing a soft kiss on the back of it. “Aye aye capt’n!” 

Again, Uma refused to acknowledge the stares directed at her as the Gryffindor chaser zoomed off with surprising speed back into the game. Harry was just being his usual showboat self. It tended to grind on most people’s nerves but Uma found it as normal as the sun rising and setting. 

 The Gryffindors around her jumped to their feet in a deafening roar as Harry intercepted and flew away with the quaffle before the blonde Slytherin chaser could even comprehend that the ball was no longer in her hands. Harry swooped back towards the Slytherin goals, two of the school’s numerous part dwarf cousins who were the Gryffindor beaters flanking him to keep the bludger off him before he scored another point. 

The entire House of Gryffindor cheered wildly, everyone’s focus on the field. One stare though did itch against Uma’s skin enough for her to turn with a glare, hand already reaching for her wand, just in case. 

“Do I have something on my face, Florian?” 

A blush that had nothing to do with the crisp wind filled Ben’s cheeks. “Oh. Uh. No, I was just- nevermind,” he awkwardly turned back to face the game. Uma’s eyes narrowed but sensed no maliciousness from the boy, turning back as well to watch the game. 

Hours later, while Slytherin would be celebrating late into the morning hours thanks to their Seeker finding the snitch before Gryffindor could score any more points, Uma would find herself spending the night in the infirmary (long after Madame Flora had tried to kick her out). She had carefully wedged herself next to Harry on the bed, finishing a letter to Harriet explaining to the older witch how her only brother had yet again wound up in the infirmary again, said wizard next to her, sleeping off the Skele-Gro potion that was repairing his left arm with cringing pops and snaps that Uma bit her bottom lip to ignore. 

After finishing the letter, she was just about to read the section on cecaelias in her book of water-based magical creatures Harry had insisted on buying for her when they had gone school shopping when she felt him shift next to her. He reached out sleepily with his good hand, fingers lightly twisting in her braids like they always did when he wanted to make sure she was close. “Did ye, did ye see me, Uma?” he mumbled, already falling back to sleep as he curled closer to her.

Uma gave him a fond smile, carding her hand through his wild hair. “I saw,” she said, pausing for a moment before leaning over and pressing a quick, feather light kiss on his brow before returning back to her book, ignoring the happy sigh that escaped from her best friends lips or the way that she slowly let her breath match his until they were both asleep. 

[welllpthisishappening]

All Was Golden in the Sky (17/27)

Magic is dying.

Emma knows it. She can feel it, the emptiness rattling around in her, like it’s trying to make sure she disappears as well. What she doesn’t know is what to do about it, because, suddenly, there is a man in Storybrooke claiming she’s the Savior and a seeress certain a prophecy promises the same and the last thing she expects is for her minimal amount of lingering power to pull her away.

To New York City.

And another oddly familiar man with blue eyes and a smile that sinks under her skin and makes magic bloom in the air around her. Things are about to get interesting.

—

Rating: Mature AN: Hey, thanks for reading, it’s real nice. 

|| Also on Ao3 if that’s your jam ||

She misses the jacket. 

It’s a ridiculous thing to miss, and far from the only thing, but Emma’s mind keeps drifting back to the jacket and the cut and how strange it is to keep thinking about the length of a goddamn leather jacket. 

Because, all things considered, they’ve got much bigger things to deal with. 

They’ve barely been back in Misthaven for two weeks and every day seems to bring some brand-new and increasingly difficult challenge because they’ve barely been back for two weeks but they were gone for years and people were left behind and King Arthur is, apparently, the biggest dick in a variety of different realms. 

The first news of an attack came, approximately, four hours after they left the throne room. 

Which, really, did not seem like enough time at all, but Emma figures the universe is just testing them all now and she can’t figure out how any of them are staying upright at this point. 

They all must be averaging four hours of sleep a night. 

Killian’s averaging, like, two.

She catches him, sometimes, staring out the window or the ceiling, wide eyes and slightly labored breathing, fingers tracing over her side like he’s trying to brand every inch of her. 

With him. 

Or something less dramatic.

But Emma gets nightmares too, clinging to sheets and Killian in equal measure until she has to apologize for the nail-shaped marks she leaves in his skin. 

He never seems to mind. 

And it’s not just Arthur. The problems come from every angle, a non-stop stream of political messes that have quickly turned to political fires. DunBroch has sent missives, demands to know what your intentions are now that you’ve returned, and Emma can’t really remember Ella and Thomas, but they’d sent an actual envoy who wanted an audience with her highness, an announcement that made Ruby cackle and Regina groan and there’d been a stack of signed papers in the man’s hands when he left. 

There were whispers out of Arendelle, Elsa leaving almost as soon as they returned, and Emma doesn’t even want to think about what Midas has done because she doesn’t want to think about that field and none of the people they’d left behind seem all that inclined to celebrate their return.

Because there aren’t borders anymore, so much as there are burned down tree lines and empty fields, houses with broken windows and empty beds, signs of a fight that was lost long ago and Emma’s magic will not stop. It is, she imagines, because she keeps teleporting them places, a flash of smoke and feet that land with practiced ease now, bouncing between the throne room in Misthaven and the council chambers in Camelot, David’s voice getting more and more exasperated each time they leave without an agreement. 

“You disappeared,” Arthur says, voice even and almost cool, as if cursing themselves is more than enough reason to launch a full-scale invasion. “And then even more people were gone. I’m afraid that left Misthaven ripe for the--” “--Oh my God, do not finish that sentence,” Emma grumbles. David can’t quite mask his laugh, lips tugged behind his teeth and eyes staring into the small bit of marble under his feet. 

Arthur’s castle, it appears, is entirely made of marble. 

She can hear Killian’s sharp inhale behind her, never more than a few feet away. Not that Emma is, particularly, opposed to that. 

Because it hasn’t even been two weeks since they’ve returned to Misthaven and things aren’t right and Arthur must have practiced that look of self-satisfied superiority at some point. 

Emma may break every mirror in his stupid, marble castle. 

And then shorten the length of Killian’s jacket. 

It’s not right. 

They’re not right. 

They’re walking on eggshells and tiptoeing around each other – because he knows she knows, a weird, convoluted sentence that’s probably a fairly good descriptor for their lives now and his fingers keep fluttering at his side, reaching for something that isn’t there anymore. 

He hates his new sword. 

She knows it. She knows he knows she knows it. 

Arthur is talking again. 

“I’m afraid being a ruler does, in fact, require said ruler to rule his kingdom.” Emma can hear David’s eye roll. “We have explained that,” he growls. “And, you know, not to belabor our point here, but not only are you invading a kingdom you were allied to--” “--No, no, no,” Arthur cuts in quickly, waving a quick hand through the air. Emma’s fingers curl around Killian’s hook. “That treaty is null and void when you disappear, your highness.” "That’s not how diplomacy works!” “David,” Emma chastises, but she tends to agree and if she’s been thinking about the length of leather jackets for nearly two weeks, then she’s been thinking about that scene on the farm outside of the town for just as long. The smoke still stings her nose every now and then, a rush of guilt and hint of pain, as if the loss had seared itself into her soul as well, making her whole body tremble and--

“You’ve got to breathe, love,” Killian mumbles. He turns slightly, not pulling his left arm away from her, but making it easier to rest his hand on her shoulder and maybe this is why Arthur is such a monumental dick. 

It’s easy to reject treaties from a group of anxious royals all dealing with various and specific forms of post traumatic stress disorder. 

Emma nods, jerky and less-than-impressive, particularly when she’s supposed to be some kind of ambassador, but one side of Killian’s mouth tugs up anyway. She wonders if she can get Regina to just...burn down a castle of marble. She wonders what the melting point of marble is. 

Arthur’s expression hasn’t changed. “Shall we rehash, your highness? It only seems to be upsetting you.” “Fucking hell,” David grumbles, drawing another less-than-appropriate laugh out of Emma. She lets her head fall forward, a quick movement that she hopes is Killian’s lips ghosting over the top of her hair. 

He definitely squeezes her shoulder. 

They are honestly all disaster royals. 

David takes a deep breath, running his hand over his face. Emma can see the exact moment he shifts, moving out of several negative emotions and diving directly into the deep end of determined and it, at least, makes Arthur’s eyebrows jump slightly. 

“Ok,” David starts. “We were gone. We aren’t gone anymore. Obviously.” “He should have practiced this more,” Killian whispers in Emma’s ear. She has to bite her lip. 

“You want to rehash, your majesty?” David continues, and that question is almost dripping with sarcasm. Emma figures that’s fair. She lifts her head up. “Fine, we can rehash. We’ve been lied to. From the very start. All of us. Tricked by George and the Dark One and lulled into a prophecy that was misleading from the very beginning--” “--That can’t possibly be--” “Oh no, no,” David cuts in, a quick head shake. “No interruptions right now. The prophecy wasn’t wrong, but the explanation was. It twisted everything and made it impossible to do anything except our goddamn best, which is exactly what we did, Arthur. And we’re not looking for sympathy or pity or anything except for you to stop being a goddamn, fucking bastard and get out of our kingdom.”

Arthur’s eyebrows get higher. 

That’s the only response. 

Emma has no idea where to look. Her eyes flit from face to face and ostentatious marble tile to even more ridiculous marble wall decor, but, eventually, her gaze lands on Killian’s and that’s nice. That’s, almost, normal. 

None of this is normal. 

Gods, she misses real coffee too. 

“Had me right up until the end,” Killian murmurs, and Emma can’t help her laugh. It’s soft and, maybe, a little skeptical, like she’s not entirely sure if that’s the sound she’s supposed to be making. He definitely kisses her hair that time. 

She smiles, reaching up to tug lightly on the lapels of a jacket, she hopes, she could, maybe get used to. Again. Because it’s not new. None of this is, but it feels impossibly unfamiliar and just, generically, impossible and Emma really thought they were done with all the allusions to Camelot after she slayed the goddamn dragon. 

She really has no idea what happened to Rumplestilskin. 

“Oh shut up,” David groans, Killian scoffing and pulling Emma back to his side. Arthur’s face is going to get stuck like that. 

It’d serve him right. 

“What exactly is it you hope to get from this, your majesty?” Emma asks, fully anticipating the way Killian’s hand tightens around her shoulders and David’s lips quirk and Arthur is frozen. 

She lets her smile widen. 

“Anything? Because I quite figure it out. Why keep doing this when--” She twists her head, fluttering her fingers and the ball of light that appears there bounces in a rhythm that she’s actually almost impressed by. Emma doesn’t look at Killian. She doesn’t have to. 

He’s totally smiling. 

Until. 

“It’s exactly because of that,” Arthur says, low and still frustratingly even, as if the conversation hasn’t caused him any emotional distress at all. There’s something, though. Something that wasn’t there a moment before. And it’s not fear. Or pity. Or anything except--

“You’re defending yourself,” Emma breathes, understanding rushing through her and making her magic surge. Killian’s hand turns into a vice. 

She can’t quite hide her hiss of pain, another sound Emma regrets as as soon as she makes it. And she doesn’t know enough words to describe the look that lands on Killian’s face when he’s realized what he’s done, something almost akin to shattering settling on his features, making Emma’s chest ache and her magic sputter and David coughs pointedly. 

Like that will make this more diplomatic. 

“What could you be protecting yourself from?” David presses. His hand lands on his sword hilt, a belt Emma doesn’t think he’s taken off since they got back. 

Arthur actually has the gall to look surprised. “What? No, no, no, it’s not a what, your highness. It’s a who.” “We’re not a threat to you, Arthur,” Emma sneers. Her magic is back. Loud. And disorienting. It makes her vision go blurry and her breath hitch, parted lips and, what she hopes, is the world’s most potent glare on her face. 

“I don’t think that’s true.” “That’s ridiculous! It’s--I mean, it’s shit, isn’t?” She gapes at David, his lips twisted into a near-agreement and almost-condemnation because they are so bad at this and Emma didn’t expect it to be so difficult to figure out how to put the pieces of their lives back together. 

She’s really annoyed by her mind’s continued use of puzzle metaphors. 

“We defeated the darkness,” Emma continues, taking a step forward. Or, at least, trying. Killian doesn’t let go of her shoulder, a quick flinch and rock forward and that’s been happening too. 

He doesn’t like her not being there. 

Arthur clicks his tongue, another expression Emma resents. He slumps slightly in his throne, more than a few jewels in the back and his own sword strapped to his side. It’s not Excalibur. There is no Excalibur. 

Not anymore. 

Gods, that’s so strange. 

“So you claim,” Arthur says, eyes going thin and gaze turning penetrating. “But the prince is right. No matter what George had been doing or working for, he did bring you all together. Magic. Power. And--” He nods in Killian’s direction, the muscles in his throat shifting when he swallows. “That.” Emma has no explanation for what her body does. It doesn’t feel particularly human or comfortable, like a rather large slab of wood had been pressed to her and forced her to realign her spine. 

Or she’s been placed between two marble slabs. 

Everything feels heavy, like the air itself is reacting and it only takes Emma a moment to realize...it might be. Her magic flares, a burst of light from the tips of her fingers and another orb lingering around the shoulder Killian’s still got his fingers on and she tries to count. 

“Three in, five out, three in, five out,” Emma mumbles, a bit of her light reflecting off the sword David’s half-drawn. 

“Try six out, love.” She can’t actually bring herself to glare at Killian – not when the bags under his eyes are so obvious and the jacket doesn’t look right and they’ve got to find him another sword, but Emma looks and his smile is forced. 

Like he’s in pain too. 

“God, that’s so long,” Emma mutters. “Who could exhale for that long?” “It might work.” “I really think that’s impossible.” Killian’s smile shifts, still not perfect, but definitely getting there and Emma does, in fact, breathe a bit easier when his hook falls to her hip. She turns back to Arthur. “What did you mean? Exactly?” “Was that not obvious?” “Let’s not go in circles, your majesty,” Emma hisses. “You’re right. And so was David. We were gone. And we’re not going to shirk blame for any of the things we’ve done. We are here to accept them and fix them and help rebuild this kingdom. We’re not looking to take over anything. That’s--fuck, that is honestly the last thing we want. We don’t need anymore responsibility than we already have.” “Not helping,” David murmurs. 

Emma flips him off. They are a picture of mature, royal, responsibility. “I really could not care less,” Emma promises. “You attacked us, Arthur. Everyone did. We--ok, you’re scared of our magic? Fine. What do I need to do to fix that?” He doesn’t answer immediately, which is only kind of annoying, but Emma expects just about everything to be annoying at this point and--

“What about him?” That is not the answer Emma thinks she’s going to get. Because it’s not an answer. It’s a question. And one directed at Killian. 

He stiffens next to her, tongue darting between his lips when he rocks his weight between his heels. “What about me?”

“You’re quite the enigma aren’t you, Captain?” Arthur drawls, the calm forced now. A muscle in his temple keeps jumping. “We’ve heard the rumors. Of you. What you’ve done. And then, well of course, what you couldn’t own up to doing. Are they true?” “You’ll have to be more specific, I’m afraid.” “You know. Camelot is landlocked. Not often we hear things from other realms separated by a sea, but--every now and then, there’s some news and a few murmurs and the man was very talkative once he got a few ales in him. And a slightly heavier pocket.” Killian tilts his head, and Emma isn’t sure if the thump she hears is her heart or his. The jacket, suddenly, looks a little more menacing, fluttering at his ankles when he takes a step forward, the light of her magic bouncing off the curve of his hook and his fingers drifting towards his sword. 

Arthur presses his lips together. 

“A name, your majesty.” “No, no, no, I also know how diplomacy works, pirate,” Arthur says. “And I know I’ve got leverage now. The question is, do you? And was the man speaking the truth?” “Babe,” Emma mutters. Killian freezes. “What is he talking about?”

“I don’t know.” She makes a contrary noise in the back of her throat, more wrong that they probably should have discussed before, but there hasn’t been time and Emma just wants some time. She wants quiet. And peace. 

She wants her heart to calm the fuck down. 

Killian glances at her, a smirk and a flash in his eyes because he probably can’t hear her heart, but it would almost make sense at this point. Her magic, on the other hand. “That bad, huh?” “Worse,” Emma promises.

He chuckles, a loud exhale when he pulls his hand away from his sword. “He thinks I’ve still got magic,” Killian says, and Arthur nearly falls out of his throne. 

That would have been funny. It probably shouldn’t be. 

David’s eyes bug, lips parting with a pop and he’s got his sword out. Diplomacy, it seems, has been cast to the wayside. “What?” he balks. “How--how would he even know? I thought you said no one knew.” “Rumplestilskin did,” Killian shrugs. “And he didn’t leave this realm right after I did. I was in New York for years too.” “Abandoning your kingdom,” Arthur adds, scoffing when Emma mumbles seriously, shut the fuck up under her breath. 

It is not really under her breath. 

“He didn’t want people to know he’d lost his magic, but…” Killian trails off, another head tilt and look cast Emma’s direction. “I’m sure for the right price or the right deal, it would have been worth it. To know what I’d done. Or where Emma was.” “And did this man know that?” David looks at Arthur when he asks, all fury and magic and the throne wobbles precariously on its perch. 

Arthur shakes his head. “I don't have to answer that.” “How long ago was this?” Emma asks, something tugging at the back of her mind. It’s not an idea, not really, isn’t more than a passing thought or half a consideration, but Killian had to get a magic bean somehow and--”What did he look like?” “At least a year ago.” “That’s only half the answer.” “Yes, it is.” Emma groans, throwing her head back with the force of the noise. Arthur’s throne stops moving. So does he. He tries, makes several gallant attempts to twist and turn, but there are invisible bounds around him and she’s definitely getting better at that. 

She didn’t even have to move her hand. 

“Oh, that was good, Swan,” Killian says, almost sounding genuine. There’s still a bit of perspiration at his temple though, a tiny pinch between his brows. He’s not telling her something. “Brag to Regina about that later because--”

“Is that a threat, Savior?” Arthur asks. 

Emma rolls her eyes. “Are you serious?” “I wouldn’t ask otherwise.” “Well, that’s stupid,” Emma says bluntly, David snickering next to her and she can almost feel Killian’s pride push out of him. “Get your knights out of our kingdom, Arthur. It’s not yours. It never was.” “Or what?” “Damnit,” David breathes. 

Emma smile stretches the muscles in her face, wholly uncomfortable until there’s a press of metal into the small of her back. She leans into it. “We just want to come home, Arthur. That’s all. We aren’t trying to conquer anything. There’s not magic. There’s no warning. It’s just us and--” “I want to know the Dark One is gone,” Arthur cuts in sharply. It catches Emma off guard, which is far less impressive than the other magic she’d just done, because this makes her current magic sputter and waver and it’s more than enough time for Arthur to break free of his bonds. His feet slam onto the marble when he jumps up, all chain mail and an actual cloak and the door behind him swings open to let in several heavily armored knights. 

Emma sighs. 

“That’s just unnecessary,” Killian mumbles. 

She doesn’t think. She twists and turns, presses up on her toes and brushes a kiss to his cheek, more stubble and exhaustion she can practically taste. “I love you.” He doesn’t exhale. Not quite. There are knights moving towards them too quickly for that, swords drawn and pointed directly at his chest. David is grumbling curses, bobbing on the balls of his feet with magic percolating around him and Emma can hardly see past the glare around her. 

It’s her. She’s the glare. Of the magical, variety. 

And they probably should have been better prepared for this. 

But part of her was hopeful and maybe even a little optimistic that they could just fall back into something and normal and--

“So much for signing that treaty now,” Emma mutters. She pushes her hands towards the floor, the surge of power moving from her head to her heels. It’s as if she’s being jumpstarted, the force of it almost enjoyable, if not a little distracting because it really is difficult to see when she’s glowing as much as she is. 

She does hear Arthur’s throne tip over though, so that’s kind of satisfying. 

And it all goes a little pear-shaped after that. 

The knights advance, Arthur shouting commands like he’s actually going to get off the dais and use his stupid sword. David twists his blade in his hands, bending his knees slightly. “Oh, Gods, remind me to make fun of him for that later,” Killian mutters, mirroring Emma’s moves and turning so his back is pressed against hers. 

Covering her six, as it were. 

Or, whatever. 

She needs to stop mixing up idioms from different realms. 

“I can hear you,” David calls, metal clanging on metal. He grunts, far more exercise than they’d anticipated on what may be their fifteenth trip to Camelot at this point. 

Emma is genuinely surprised this is the first time it’s broken down like this. 

She can feel Killian shifting against her, the push of his shoulder blades into her and the edges of that stupid, ridiculous, far too long coat brushing against the back of her calves. She may lean back. She may be exceptionally greedy. 

And only a little worried. 

About a never-ending myriad of things, but mostly him and them and she wants. That’s it, really. She wants. Them and collective pronouns and for it all to be over already, for the rest of everything to begin and she wouldn’t be opposed to more than a few dates. 

Possibly on a pirate ship. 

“That was the point,” Killian says, a smile obvious in the words. He has to lunge to parry a blow from one of the knights, laughter ringing out like this is fun but Emma’s eyes flicker to Arthur when he, finally, moves, sword raised and fear obvious in his gaze. 

He’s terrified. 

Everyone might be terrified. Of them. 

And their magic. 

And what Killian had done. 

Even without the specifics. Or the rumors of an inebriated, suddenly rich man who found his way to Camelot and started talking. 

She lifts her hand on instinct and the possibility of what could be, that same bit of hope and unusual optimism, a burst of power from her palm and it’s just enough to leave Arthur staggering mid-step. 

“We’re not a threat, Arthur,” Emma says again, only marginally confident he’ll believe her. He doesn’t. She knows it as soon as she closes her mouth. “To you, or anyone. This entire realm. We just--” “Prove he doesn’t have magic! That he’s not what that pirate said he was.” “I’m sorry, what?” Arthur pales, another exaggerated swallow. Emma’s head snaps towards Killian, every inch of her still vibrating with magic and questions, but the knights, apparently, don’t need to wait for orders and his arm flies through the air, the sound of his hook smashing the visor of the man in front of him echoing off the walls. 

Arthur is going to be transparent soon. 

“Fine,” Killian sighs, shaking his hair away from his eyes and his sleeve away from his hook and Emma barely has time to gasp before he does it. He sheaths his sword, a soft whoosh and quick roll of his shoulders and he hardly makes a noise when the point of his hook pierces the skin of his forearm. 

Emma does. Loudly. So does David. 

Killian will probably make fun of them for that. 

“See,” he says, staring straight at Arthur and his suddenly very wobbly knees. He lifts his arm, drops of blood sliding down skin and threatening to stain the shirt underneath it. “Wouldn’t really work if I was still the Dark One, would it?”

Arthur doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t move. He doesn’t even blink. 

Killian does all three. 

“So, you can report back to your little contingent, your majesty because, let’s be honest with ourselves here, you’re leading the charge of the other kingdoms aren’t you?”

That gets Arthur to, at least, blink. 

Emma needs to stop gasping. “Oh, shit,” she mutters, working a soft laugh out of Killian. “You think so?” “It’s an educated guess, at least.” “But--” David argues. “That’s...oh, Gods, that makes so much sense. Was it---was there some kind of agreement, Arthur?” Nothing. Silence. Stretching on for what feels like forever and then an extra day because Arthur really is an enormous dick, but then there’s the clack of boots and a sword scraping across marble when a knight pulls it off the floor and Emma’s reactions are getting very good. 

So are Killian’s. 

His arm is barely more than a blur, but there’s a look on his face that makes Emma’s pulse still for a moment, quiet fury and absolute hatred and he’s half a step in front of her before she realizes what’s happened. 

“Don’t come near her again,” he bites out. 

The sword clatters back to the ground. 

“You know,” David drawls, “maybe we weren’t the ones who were such garbage at diplomacy. It seems kind of stupid, Arthur. This plan of yours. What was it, then? We disappear, half of Misthaven is gone, and you...what? Decide that you’re the best option for overlord of the realm?” “The once and future king,” Emma intones. Killian’s arm is still bleeding. 

“Sounds better in the book.” Arthur makes a face of confusion. “What in all hells are you talking about?” “Just one hell, really,” Killian amends. “And not even that. The Underworld. If you want to get technical.” “Are you kidding me?” Emma asks, but he just shrugs and smirks and the look is right again. It’s hers again. 

“It’s important to be accurate when dealing with diplomacy, Swan.” “Oh my God.” He flashes her another grin, a quick twist of eyebrows that make her mind race and her pulse race and her magic is even more visible, a pulse of light and glimmer of energy that makes the air around them noticeably warmer. 

Emma huffs, but she’s not so much frustrated as she is--every other human emotion. She reaches her hand up slowly, light lingering between her fingers to brush away the hair matted to Killian’s forehead. 

He closes his eyes. 

“Take your knights out of our kingdom, Arthur,” she says, not bothering to look at the king or where, exactly, he’s standing. She hopes he fell over. “Tell the other kingdoms too. We’re not doing anything except coming home.” “And, maybe trading a bit,” David adds. 

“Seriously?” He hums when she glares at him. “Diplomacy or whatever.” “Aye, whatever sounds about right, doesn’t it?” Killian mutters. He hasn’t opened his eyes, head falling forward just enough that his forehead rests against Emma’s. 

She hopes he isn’t still bleeding.

“Arthur,” she continues, a quick kiss to the scar on Killian’s cheek before she turns slightly. “Do we have an agreement? Accord? What do you think works better?” Killian inhales, head falling even more so he can nuzzle slightly at her neck and that’s probably breaking every rule, but Emma...doesn’t care. Really. “They both sound fairly royal, Swan.” “I like accord better.” “More official,” David muses, Killian making a noise of agreement. 

“Fine, fine,” Emma says quickly. “I want your word right now, Arthur. Take the knights out of Misthaven. No more attacks. No more burning farms and destroying homes. It’s not going to make anyone want your rule anymore. They’ll just think you’re the world’s biggest dick.”

“Excuse me?” 

“You’re mixing colloquialisms again, love,” Killian laughs. Emma relishes it. 

She scoffs, letting her fingers find their way back to the front of his jacket so she can tug lightly on the leather that does and doesn’t make sense. Like everything. She’s going to teleport them straight back to her room, get him out of that jacket, make sure he isn’t bleeding anymore and then kiss him until he can’t remember the word colloquialism. 

“You can’t just return here and expect everything to be the way that it was,” Arthur says, sounding like he’s warning them of something. 

“That’s kind of the point.” “What?” “Sodding idiot,” Killian mutters, fingers seemingly moving of their own accord. David cannot sound disappointed enough. “Ok, yes, thank you,” he sighs. “But, also--well, you are a complete and utter ass, Arthur. And we are--” “--Done with diplomacy?” Emma suggests. 

“Well, yeah.” “What pushed you in that direction, do you think, your highness?” Killian asks, rife with sarcasm. David shakes his head. “The insane king, the knights who, honestly, seem to be acting out of turn or--”

“--You,” David cuts in, and Arthur makes a noise between a gasp and a groan. “And not wanting to see what you’d do if those same knights, who--honestly, control your men Arthur...but, well, you might not have magic anymore, but I can only imagine what you’d do if someone threatened Emma. Or vice versa.” “That’s awfully melodramatic, don’t you think?” David shakes his head. “Nope. Threaten the knight guy one more time with your legitimately terrifying threatening face.” “Legitimately terrifying threatening face,” Emma echoes slowly. 

“You got a better name for it?” “I mean--I don’t think it’s terrifying.” “Oh, no,” David groans. “You’re attracted to the face aren’t you?” Emma blushes, entirely mistimed and likely doing damage to their ability to draft a reasonable treaty that will benefit both kingdoms and ensure Camelot stops trying to actively screw them over, but she can feel Killian’s eyes on the side of her head and--

“I mean…”

Killian laughs, the sound settling in between tension-filled muscles and bones that are heavy with a lack of consistent REM sleep and Emma’s almost thankful for the curse because now she knows what REM sleep is and how important it is to a restful night. 

“I love you too,” Killian says, spinning Emma back towards him so he can brush the back of his knuckles over her jaw and let his fingers fall through the ends of her hair. “Missed that part before. When I was making the attractive faces.” “You’re doing that smug thing again.” “And plan on doing it as long as you do, love.” Emma rolls her eyes, but she’s charmed and almost calm and still decidedly magical. “Pirate,” she accuses. It’s not really an insult. 

He smirks at her. 

“Alright, well,” David starts, dragging out the words until his discomfort is practically vibrating out of him. “So, uh...we want to, you know, keep the kingdom from being burned down or you guys want to keep staring longingly at each other?” “Do you not think we’re capable of doing both?” Emma asks. 

And that laugh, oh, that one. It’s loud and easy and it flies out of Killian, lands directly in the middle of Emma and warms her from the inside out, a glow and a want and the start of everything she’s been waiting for. 

Her mind is still hanging onto that feeling, though. She wonders. And has questions. And she’s going to get answers. 

Probably after the kissing. 

And definitely after she makes sure his arm is alright. 

“Call back your knights,” Emma says, doing her best to sound official. “Tell DunBroch that we are interested in a peaceful resolution to this. Get used to the fact that Misthaven has magic. But magic that we are--” She glances at David, the ends of his mouth already tugging up into a smile and he gives her a quick nod. “We are more than willing to help with that magic,” Emma continues, “whenever we can, however we can. This is...this isn’t George’s kingdom anymore. No secrets. No murmurs. No rumors of darkness.”

“The darkness is gone. And now there’s the chance to start over. To fix it and try again, to make it better than it was before.”

Arthur stares at her for a moment, Emma’s heart sputtering erratically behind her ribs. She reaches her hand back on instinct. 

And the metal she touches is cool against her fingers. 

“What if I don’t agree?” Arthur asks, drawing several pointed curses out of all three of them. Most of Killian’s are not in English. 

“What more could you want?” he demands. “We’ve given you everything you’ve asked for and--” “You’re worried about the Darkness?” Emma interrupts, Arthur nodding quickly. “There is no Darkness anymore. Because I killed it. I--” Her voice shakes, tears clouding her vision and grip going tight enough that her knuckles crack. “It’s gone, Arthur. But let me tell you something, you’re harping on something that doesn’t exist anymore and you’ve overlooked one very important thing.” “Which is?”

“Me. You keep doing this, destroying families and coming after our kingdom, I won’t think. I'll do what I have to do to save them. All of them. Because the Darkness was bad, but guess who destroyed the Darkness?”

She holds her hand out, David’s fingers curling around her wrist and her nails dig into her palm where its wrapped around Killian’s hook, eyes falling closed as the magic roars in her ears. 

They don’t land in her room. 

That’s probably for the best with David with them. 

Until. 

As per usual. 

The book flies at them, a flap of pages the only warning before Emma’s hands are moving and she’s got less control, in that moment, than she did when she was seven and freezing. 

The book disappears.

“Oh damn,” she mumbles, Killian crowding into her space with his sword brandished in front of them. “Shit, don’t tell Regina about that one. That wasn’t as impressive.” He must smile because Emma is fairly certain she can feel it through her hair when he ducks his head to kiss her temple, but she doesn’t have much time to focus on that because Will is groaning and Belle is apologizing, presumably for throwing a book at them and--

“What are you two doing in here?” David asks, glancing around the room that is, quite obviously, the library. On the direct opposite side of the castle from Emma’s room. 

She clicks her tongue. “Seriously, that did not work the way I wanted it to at all.”

“Do you want the real answer or the answer we’d rather give you?” Will asks. He’s got his feet propped up on the edge of the table in front of him, balancing on the back two legs of the chair he’s sitting in. 

Emma waves her hands again. So he doesn’t fall over. 

Top notch Savior, doing top notch saving-type things. 

Will grins. “Thanks. For that, I’ll give you the real answer, even though it’s embarrassing--” “--We’re hiding from Regina,” Belle cuts in, Emma’s eyes widening and she’s glad she did the chair thing. Will rolls his whole head when he groans. “She is currently, upstairs, throwing fire balls at inanimate objects because that person from--does Rapunzel’s kingdom actually have a name? I just keep thinking of the movies.” 

“Seriously, you can’t keep ruining the punchlines to these jokes if you’re just going to present facts to the sovereigns--”

The door swings open again, more footsteps and more groans and there is not enough room for all of them in this rather limited amount of space. 

“Goddamn, idiotic, pedantic...jerks,” Mary Margaret grumbles, Ruby half a step behind her and barely containing her laugh. Her smile, however, is a different story, wide and only a little mocking and a hint wolfish and David reaches to draw his sword. 

“What are you possibly trying to accomplish with that?” Emma asks. “And, honestly, babe, you can put yours away too.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Will asks, and Ruby immediately starts to cackle. 

Mary Margaret doesn’t seem to notice any of them. “Grew up in a goddamn forest, light a stupid candle, idiots.” “M”s,” Emma wavers, pushing lightly on the hilt of Killian’s sword. He kisses her again before he, finally, sheathes it. It makes that noise again. “What are you saying right now? And why are you guys in here too?” “Oh, this is our meeting place,” Ruby says, as if it’s obvious. 

“For?” “Whining,” Will answers. “Grousing. What’s another word for this, babe?” Belle twists her lips, tilting her head back and forth in thought. “Bemoaning. Lamenting. Bellyaching, but that one is more slang than anything else.”

“Shouldn’t count then,” Killian mutters. “Yeah, well, you haven’t been here, so…” “Although we’re not opposed to you being here,” Mary Margaret adds, a quick return to the conversation that comes with only minimal sighing. “And sorry, for all the--” She waves her hands dramatically, shaking her hair off her shoulders. “We got a call from some of the dwarves, you know the ones who live over by the DunBroch border and they thought they were being attacked, but it was--” “--A rather large infestation of rabbits,” Ruby mumbles.

Emma’s eyes bug without her explicit permission. “Oh my God.” “Yeah, those were basically our thoughts too.” “But,” Mary Margaret adds, “then the whole thing dissolved into a criticism of our ruling tendencies, my inability to provide electricity and some rather pointed suggestions that we were doing a fairly bad job of...what was the world they used, Rubes?” 

“Transitioning.”

“Oh, yeah, I hated that, honestly.”

Emma’s sigh falls out of her, all disappointment and wobbly knees and the certainty that she’s missing something. Big. “There’s got to be some kind of balance, right?”

She isn’t really waiting for an answer, was more asking the question rhetorically, but the rather resounding silence she gets is, admittedly, a little disappointing. She sighs again. “What I’m saying is...I mean, at the risk of giving Arthur any credit at all--” “--Oh, yeah, yeah, what happened with Arthur?” Ruby asks, a smile when Emma rolls her eyes at the interruption. “You weren’t trying to get to this room were you?” “Shut up.” “Ah, that might be an answer.” “I think we almost saved the whole thing, really,” David says, only sort of sounding like he’s lying. Ruby lifts her eyebrows.

“Killian,” Mary Margaret says, crouching lightly to push up the sleeve of his jacket. There’s red staining the fabric of his shirt. “Were you bleeding?” “The past tense there is important,” he mutters. Will may gag. “And I’m fine. It’s..it’s fine.” “Once more with feeling, Captain,” Belle says, one eyebrow arched and her lips twisted into complete disbelief. 

“Arthur is terrified of Emma. We’re all saved.” “That only sounded kind of bitter,” Emma mumbles, but she never actually let go of his hook and the ring around her neck has fallen over the front of her dress. “Anyway, what I’m saying is that, Arthur is a dick, but we’re fairly positive we can get him to call off the attacks and he did bring up a good point.” David hums in confusion. “When? Before or after the knights attacked us?”

That gets a response – mostly just shouts of varying volume and slightly bugged eyes, and Killian’s tongue moves back between his lips, pressing to the corner of his mouth with an almost obvious impatience. 

“Can I make my point, please?” Emma cries, close to pleading. Killian rests his head on top of hers, a deep breath that shudders through him and they’re a mess of wholly uncomfortable limbs, but it’s also kind of grounding and they never did much understand the concept of personal space. 

It’s probably a magic thing. 

“Your highness,” he mutters. She resists the urge to elbow him. That’s less romantic than the magic thing. 

“We’re all fucked aren’t we?” “This is not your best work, Em,” Ruby admits, dropping onto the edge of Belle’s seat. 

“You’re being impatient, that’s why. I’m--ok, well, we didn’t know who we were, but we were still us then, right?” “When we were cursed?” Mary Margaret asks. 

Emma nods. “Yeah, exactly. What I’m saying is those people were us. Same personalities, for the most part, and I mean--we lived those lives. Those memories happened, even if the stuff before we got to Storybrooke was skewed. I hate to say it, but Arthur, and maybe even these dwarves are right. We’ve been trying to just settle back into what we were before the curse, but that was all George too and--” “--There’s got to be a balance, for us to be both, all at the same time,” David whispers, repeating her words and interrupting her speech and, for the first time, Emma doesn’t mind. 

Much. 

“Yeah,” she agrees. “We lived that. We miss electricity. And good coffee. Gods, we miss good coffee.” There are a few quiet laughs and murmured agreements, another kiss to her temple as Killian’s hand, somehow, finds its way to her hip. So he can squeeze it lightly. “We’ve got people we totally screwed who are going to hate us. But I wasn’t lying before. This is a chance for us. To do better. To...to start over, with the magic and the--”

“--Oh say True Love, say it,” Will laughs. 

Emma clicks her tongue. His smile widens. “You’re no help at all. And I--if I ask you if you’re doing alright, based mostly on your defense techniques are you going to give me some snarky comment in response.” “Yes, absolutely.” “And,” Belle adds, shifting so she has to sling her arm around Ruby’s shoulders to make sure they don’t both fall on the floor, “that was mostly instinct. Regina did offer to get us weapons.” “Ten thousand doubloons she didn’t want to chance offending the books with steel,” Killian says, some of the anxious energy in the air disappearing. 

It makes it easier to breathe. 

Emma still wants to know about the pirate in Camelot. And what he knew. 

“What do you think the conversion of doubloons to dollars is?” Mary Margaret asks. “Like ballpark it for me.” “I’ll have to get back to you on that, your highness.” “Yeah, that’s too much math for now.” Emma laughs, an ease to it that’s nearly comforting. More so when she curls herself into Killian’s side, cheek pressed against leather. “This isn’t going to be easy, but--” “--It’s a chance to start over,” David finishes. “For the better.” “Exactly. And maybe someone can tell me what happened to Rumplestilskin.” Will blinks. “Do you not know?” “No,” Killian says, soft, but with a fierceness that’s more memory and more past mistakes and--

“I punched him,” Belle answers. “Several times. And then, um...after--well, you know after--” She shakes her head, not bothering to brush away the tears on her cheeks. “It was bad and Ruby was trying to take care of Emma and, well...you know, he tried to run, probably go find some of the people he brought with him or Isaac. Where is Isaac?” “We have too many enemies,” Ruby says.

David glares at her. “In a cell without a key. Keep going Belle.”

“Right, right,” she stammers. “Well, we had some time, after. And so we got him up and there was still magic on him. He couldn’t really move and he was--he realized he’d lost, I think, rather quickly and it was pretty easy after that. There were police eventually. A huge thing like that, there had to be some kind of explanation and we didn’t really give it to them, but we told them that we saw him outside Grand Central around that time...raving and shouting and that was pretty much true and uh--” Belle clicks her teeth, grimacing slightly. “--We got a call that he was going to be indicted on criminal mischief, which seems really low, but…”

She doesn’t finish. And Emma can barely keep her footing when Killian moves, but then there are more limbs in their pretzel and he’s mumbling against Belle’s hair, quiet thanks and even softer promises and she sniffles very loudly. 

“We left before they could ask us to testify or anything stupid official like that.” “Stupid official, huh?” Killian asks. 

“Yeah, exactly that.”

“So, we’ll take, like, several million doubloons,” Will grins “However that converts.” Killian laughs, pulling back with Emma still pinned against his side. “There are taverns here, you know.” “Are you trying to get me a job?” “At least make you productive.” “Ah, that’s probably fair. Don’t try and get Belle out of this library though. She’s totally geeking out about some of these maps.” “I told you that in confidence,” Belle cries, but Will shrugs and Emma starts to let herself hope again. Maybe this will be alright. Maybe this will be the new normal. 

“Yeah, well, stop blowing my jokes up and then we’ll talk.”

Regina finds them eventually – “It wasn’t really that bad, you didn’t have to run down here.” “You set the curtains on fire, Regina.” – more discussions of Camelot and treaties and maybe meeting with some of the non-magical folk who didn’t make either trip to the Land Without Magic. And it’s good. Great, even. Productive and positive and some other word with a similar start, but Emma’s whole body feels like it’s sagging by the time she crawls into bed. 

She doesn’t want to fall asleep, but Killian is still going over maps and boundary lines and David had several ideas about possible trade routes and her eyes must close, because they snap open when the door does, moonlight streaming through her window and his coat is a soft thud on the back of the chair when he shrugs out of it. 

“Go back to sleep, love,” Killian says, moving towards the bed and his lips quirk when she tries to shake her head. “You’re impossible, you know that?” “Yeah, but I think you’re kind of into it.” “That’s very true.” “Oh, very, huh?” “Incredibly? Intensely? Incessantly?” “Those last two don’t seem very positive,” Emma points out, propping her head on her hand. She shifts back, giving him a few inches on the far too large bed and it only takes a moment for him to get out of his boots and next to her, barely any space between them. Emma should, really, start thinking more, but it’s been a day and nearly two weeks and several years and she flips on her back with something that may be instinct, letting Killian curl against her with his head on her stomach and her fingers in his hair. 

His breath is warm against her skin when he exhales. 

“I would have done it,” he says eventually, voice snapping through the silence of the room. Emma doesn’t stop her fingers. She knows what he’s talking about. “Arthur, I mean. And his knights. Whatever--any of it. I would have--” He moves his arm, wrapping it around her middle, like he’s trying to keep her there or make sure he stays there, the specifics not important. “I wouldn’t have even given it a second thought.” “That’s probably not supposed to be romantic, huh?” Killian barks out a noise that is likely supposed to be a laugh, a kiss pressed to the top of Emma’s thigh because she’d never actually pulled the blankets up. “No, probably not.” “Weird.” “Aye, the weirdest.” “You want to tell me the truth now?” He tilts his head up, blue eyes and a stare that Emma has always been sure can read her mind and know her thoughts and neither one of those things should be particularly romantic either. And yet here they are. 

There are goosebumps on the back of his neck. 

“About?” “Oh, don’t play coy, Lieutenant, it’s not cute,” Emma mutters. “A pirate in Camelot? Talking about your magic. What would you have needed with another pirate?” Killian hisses in a breath, a look that isn’t quite nervous, but might be a hint apprehensive, as if he’s worried about Emma’s reaction. “You knew him, actually,” he whispers. “He’d only remember your reputation. You made sure of that.” It takes her, approximately, five and a half seconds to realize. 

“Teach? Edward Teach?” “One and the same.” “A pirate? Seriously?” “Seriously,” Killian repeats. “Rather notorious one, in fact. I believe he left the occupation of ruining young boys’ lives a few years after I got my commission. Liam and I had heard tell of him, although I didn’t realize who he was at first. Changed his name, you see.” “You’re dragging this out on purpose.” “I’m trying to keep my audience rapt.” “Did you miss the part where I’m pretty into your face? Because I feel like that’s enough to get me to keep listening.” “Simply content to stare then, ma’am?” He does something ridiculous with his eyebrows when he says it, the tip of his tongue wholly distracting pressed to the inside of his cheek. Emma can actually feel herself blush. She kind of wishes she’d pulled the blankets up.

She feels more than a little exposed. 

“What did you need Edward Teach for?” Killian swallows. “Because,” he says slowly, dragging the words against the curve of Emma’s hip and the top of her thigh and it’s another attempt at distraction that would probably work if she weren’t so goddamn stubborn. “Edward Teach became Blackbeard and Blackbeard stole a magic bean from a giant.” Emma tenses. Her whole body goes taut, far too many thoughts and even more feelings, a spark of magic and flush of how ridiculously attracted she is to his face and the feel of him next to her and she wants, wants, wants. She--

“There’s more to this,” Emma mutters, another quasi accusation. 

“Aye, there is. But it’s not important.” “Nope, try again.” “Swan.” “Killian.” He sighs, not put-upon, but mostly disappointed, hooded eyes when he glances up at her. Emma lifts her brows. And exhales for six seconds straight. “I, uh---I couldn’t find anything to get to you, Swan. I knew where you were and--” “--How?” “Hmmm?” “How did you know?” Emma asks. “You said you found out. Before. But...how?” “A mermaid.” Emma blinks. She opens her mouth. And blinks again. There are noises coming out of her, but they’re not quite words and Killian’s expression is equal parts obnoxious and a little repentant. “That’s an entirely different and far too long story,” he says. “But, the short of it is that mermaids can travel between realms. That’s--the magic is incredible, Swan. I was always trying to get back, even if the Darkness didn’t want me to, but then--well, I found out what Rumplestiltskin was going to do and--” He shrugs, far too self deprecating and maybe a little self loathing and Emma can’t kiss him. That’s disappointing. “I wasn’t sure where you’d gone, Swan. Didn't know how to get there, but...Ariel, well she could. Without a curse or a bean or a bloody magic hat. She found you. Or, well, the idea of you. She found a town near the coast with more magic than she’d seen in one place in years. And I knew. That was you. But I couldn’t get there with her.” “No gills, huh?” Emma jokes. It doesn’t land. She didn’t expect it to. Killian shakes his head. “Not quite. So we started looking for other options and, eventually, that led us to Blackbeard.” “And you...what? Took the bean from him? Was there--I mean, did you...magic?” “No.” Emma has no right to be annoyed. She knows. She knows he hasn’t been sleeping and there are mermaids involved in this now, more magic and memories she wasn’t a part of and she wants to fix it. She wants to--

“Holy shit,” she breathes, Killian kissing the first patch of skin his lips land on. Her whole body shakes underneath him. 

The room is spinning. 

“Killian, how did you get a magic bean from Edward Teach?” “It was relatively easy, actually,” he says, and she’d almost believe that if it weren’t for the muscle in his jaw that jumps on every other letter. “Teach was always a greedy bastard. And he thought the bean was dead anyway, no chance of revival, but--” “--How?” He smiles at her. His eyes are glossy. “More than willing to make a trade. And I--the Darkness didn’t want it, wanted me to rip his throat out or, even better, his heart. Get him to give me his ship for a whole goddamn fleet, but I...I couldn’t. Not if I was going to find you, Swan. I was--it had to at least be a little honorable.” “How?”

The word barely squeaks its way out of her, because, really, she already knows the answer.

“He wanted a trade,” Killian says, smile barely that. “And I had the perfect thing to barter. The Jolly Roger.”

She’s not crying. That’s surprising. She’s too busy trying to keep breathing though, vision going spotty and Killian staring at her like he’s waiting for the cracks to form and the darkness to creep back in and she knows that too, knows that the sleepless nights and hours spent staring at the ceiling have been because of just that, fears of what’s been and could be and--

“You traded your ship for me?” He nods slowly. “Aye.” And it all happens in a blur. Emma tugs on his shirt and settles further into the pillows under her, the heavy feel of him on top of her a welcome weight, particularly when she arches her back and she can’t move her head quickly enough. 

She can’t kiss him quickly enough. 

She twists her neck, trying to prove something, bruising and needy and exhilarating because this is new and not and Killian groans into her mouth when Emma hooks her leg around his. She swipes her tongue across his lip, another sound that brands itself on her memory and Emma isn’t sure if the room is actually spinning or that’s just her soul, but it’s good and wonderful and everything and he pulls back slightly, staring with something almost resembling awe. 

As if she’s the one who traded her ship for him. 

He smiles. 

And it’s not wholly different from the thousands of smiles she’s seen before, a quirk of his lips and the way his cheeks shift, soft crinkles around his eyes, but, somehow, it’s completely new and entirely better, something almost settling about it, like they’re falling back together or finding each other again and it’s every single time in one expression. 

Killian’s thumb brushes over her cheek, fingers pushing into her hair and then the smile is gone, replaced with want and that same need and it makes Emma’s heart jump, a swell of feeling and magic in equal measure. 

He may mumble I love you before his lips find hers again. 

She may mumble always in return. 

And it feels like it lasts forever, but couldn’t possibly be enough time, a moment Emma wants to stretch on because if this is what forever feels like, then she’ll embrace it with open arms. So, really, she’s not sure what compels her to say the next few words, just knows that she has to and she didn’t trade her ship for a magic bean, but she’ll be damned if he did. 

Because they’ve got to be both. The past and the present and curses several times over, a pirate and a princess who never really wanted either title.

So. 

“We’re getting it back,” Emma mutters, against Killian’s mouth and she can’t help whatever her hips do when he hums in response. “Your ship. That’s...we’re getting it back.”

[lou-bonfightme]

we’re no saviors || [merlou]

In which Merida and Toulouse share each other’s memories...[takes place during the memory event.]

@heart-of-dunbroch​

[tw -- suicide, attempted suicide, thoughts of death, guns, drowning, self-hate, depression, anxiety, anything related to the above]

MERIDA:  There was an ocean. 

Merida did not know how she arrived here. It was unlike any ocean she’d seen-- the shores smooth as if sculpted by an artist’s hands, as opposed to the rocky beaches of her Northern Scotland. But the waves, like the waves in Scotland, were black. They climbed into the sky and grew teeth, then churned forward, grinding anything in the path into seafoam. The wind whipped, growling with the water. The sky was empty. There were no stars-- that was no moon. 

The only light glowed behind her from a window of a faraway beach house, or at least, this Merida had to assume for she could not see the house’s shape. It shined like a candle burning down to its wick. Perhaps it meant to beckon and guide, to warm and to comfort. But Merida did not recognize the light as she did not recognize this beach.

She stood, instead, already in the water. The spray guzzled at her shins. The undertow pulled and pulled at her trousers.

She felt herself moving forward, deeper into the water. It was not just the water that pulled her. It was not just the ocean that longed to answer its hunger, to fill an emptiness.

Merida held emptiness in her too. Where the wolf should be--

The wolf was not there, though. The wolf-- 

With no moon, perhaps it could not find its way here, to this unfamiliar land, these greedy waves, this cold sky. 

She was free, then. Was that why she came here? There were tears on her face, or was that the water? She touched her cheeks as she moved deeper into the water, wiping at the salt and the wind. Just a little farther, and the wolf would never find her again. Just a little farther, and her brother would not find her. Her sister would not find her. Her Maman, her père--

But I don’t have a sister. I don’t have a Maman… 

This thought was a whisper, quiet underneath the roaring. A wave smacked against her torso and knocked the thought out entirely. 

No one would find her. That was the important part. It would be peaceful under the water. The cold would take her gently. 

TOULOUSE: There was someone in the water.

Toulouse didn’t know how he’d gotten here on this familiar shore. The last time he was here, he remembered every decision he’d made that had brought him. He counted them, ran his fingers over them, wrote them out in curling script—these reasons. So that when he made his final one, he would have a good, rational reason for it.

Now, he didn’t know why he was here or why his heart was pounding in his chest as if he had run—but he knew there was someone in the water.

They were barely visible: the flash of their red hair was like a distant ship, slowly moving away from the shore. Their outline blurred into the waves, as if the ocean had already claimed them. But Toulouse knew they were there. He knew—because that person was him. He didn’t know how he knew but he could taste the salt as if he was already in the water. If he closed his eyes, he knew that he’d open them again to find himself shivering in the freezing water. He remembered exactly how cold it was, how the water had moved like a python, wrapping around him. All there had been was the crash of the waves, until there had been a voice—

“Toulouse!” he heard his own voice call—or was it his brother.

Lou looked over his shoulder, as if he would see his brother standing there.

Where was he? He was supposed to be here.

He should be running down the beach, into the waves. He was supposed to pull Toulouse out.

The flicker of his hair grew fainter. If he was to paint this picture, only he would know there was a figure in the waves: thinking about how heavy their shoes were, how strange it felt to walk into the ocean wearing shoes. As if they were going to walk all the way to the bottom and find the strange, wonderful things living there.

Berlioz should be running down the beach now, screaming for his brother.

Where was he?

A wave rose high and smashed around the person in the water and for a moment, Lou lost sight of them. His heart jumped in his chest and he took a step forward.

But—

Should he save them? Did they want to be saved?

If he didn’t try, he would never know, would he?

Toulouse ran down the beach.

“Toulouse!” he called, the fear in his chest not his own. It was a wild, vicious thing that wanted to choke all the breath from his lungs.

He crashed into the ocean and it crashed into him. He had to battle through the undertow towards the figure, whose shape was becoming more solid the closer he came.

“Toulouse! What are you doing?!” he shouted—and he grabbed their arm. 

MERIDA:  Merida kept pressing on, each step harder to take than the last. But the secret was that she did not need to try. She could stand where she was and feel the sand slipping under her feet. She could wait for the waves to curl around her like a fist and draw her farther out. When it came to dying, this kind was the easiest. That was why she had picked it.

(Except she hadn’t-- a flash of silver exploded like a firework in Merida’s mind. The silver of a gun. Once, she had held a gun like a lover held another’s hand. She’d gone out to the darkest part of the wood. There was no sea-spray, no whipping wind, for the arms of the trees blocked any wind from finding her. Instead, she sank into cold, solid, still earth. She had planted herself there in an unmade grave and lifted the gun to her head…)

But here, the ground slipped. Merida slipped. She slipped into… 

Lou. With his eyes closed, it sounded like the ocean was calling him.

Lou. It beckoned him forwards.

Lou. He was almost up to his waist in the water. His heart pounded in his chest. All he could hear was the sound in his ears, it matched the ocean, until he couldn’t tell which was which-- 

“Toulouse!” 

Merida opened her eyes as that name roared through the air, louder than even the waves, no longer just a strange thought in her head. She twisted around as someone clamped her on her arm--

It was her brother. Berlioz. That name whispered into being, just as Lou had been hissed by the salty teeth of the sea. Merida’s mind reeled. The ocean dragged at her feet. She was falling, she was falling-- except she could not land, for Berlioz held her now. He was the last tether to land. 

“Berlioz! What the fuck are you doing?” She cried out. Fear lashed through her as another wave rolled over them, nearly making Merida careen forward. She reached out on instinct, gripping Berlioz by both shoulders. “What are you doing here?” 

You shouldn’t be here!

But neither should she… 

Where …was she…? 

TOULOUSE: My brother is not dead, was the first thing he thought as he stared at Merida’s sea-soaked face.

The recognition crashed through him. It was not him at all—but Merida—and he was himself…but he was his brother.

Berlioz! Merida’s voice cracked—shocked, surprised, angry. It made Lou want to shrink away, but he couldn’t. He was gripping her arm. Couldn’t let her go. Wouldn’t let her go. It felt as if his thoughts were not his, his fear, not his.

My brother is not dead.

Yet.

Something twisted inside of him and he grabbed Merida by the other arm too, as if he could hold her in place. Something howled in his chest.

“Mon dieu,” he swore at her. The burning in his eyes was not his, the fear in his heart was not his, but he felt it. It was weeds tangling inside of him, it was as anger, it was relief, it crashed into him like the crash of the ocean around them. A current which did not stop, no matter how he wanted it to. It flowed freely.

“What am I doing?” he shouted over the roar of the waves, his voice cracking with emotion as he clung to her. She could not be pulled away from him. He needed her. “What are you—why?”  

MERIDA: It was not her dream.

It was not even her memory. 

She was not herself.

These thoughts hit her like waves too. They pounded into her and she nearly collapsed, her knees giving with the weight of the water, the depression, the despair. These things did not belong to her-- but still, these things were familiar anyway. No, this sinking belonged to Lou, but hadn’t Merida fallen to her knees once, unable to lift her head against the weight of her gun? And the churning in her stomach-- this was Lou’s too, but didn’t Merida’s gut turn over and over when she looked in the mirror? When she looked at her own hands and no longer recognized them? 

Lou felt like a monster, even without the wolf. But wasn’t she just the same? 

Another wave tossed against them. Berlioz was the only thing that kept Merida from sinking, and therefore losing Lou’s bedraggled body to the waves. She clung to him out of some kind of gut-level instinct, and she wished she could unlearn it-- though Merida no longer knew if this feeling belonged to Lou or to herself. 

But she could not lose him. Brother, thought Merida, thought Lou, in this same moment, with the same breath, with the same heartbeat. If she could not save herself, she would save her brother (if he could not save himself, thought Lou, he would save his brother). 

With both minds and hearts in sync, the waves no longer fought against her. They were not pulling her out to sea; they were pushing her to shore.

Merida let Berlioz lead her back there, step by sinking step, until there was more ground than ocean under her feet. 

TOULOUSE: Toulouse held onto Merida and Berlioz held onto Toulouse.

No matter who held onto who, they could not let go. The fear was a vice grip. The love poured through him, he couldn’t turn it off, it was a faucet that had broken. No holding back the outpouring of it. If Merida sunk beneath the waves, Toulouse would be gushing water the rest of his life. He could taste it on his tongue—the grief. Even as Merida stood in front of him, her red hair flickering wildfire, unable to be put out, even by the ocean.

She cried, he cried, and Berlioz cried. Their tears were disguised in the salt water, but Lou knew, the way he knew that this was Merida he needed to save from the waves, from his own memories, that he was crying and that she was crying. If she went under. He would go under too.

(For she was him and he was her.)

To his relief, Merida took a step forward towards him.

“I’ve got you,” he promised, pulling her forwards, tripping on the current, on the push and pull of the waves. But he did not let go. He dragged her forward, until they were stumbling out of the roaring, hungry maw of the ocean.

Merida fell to her knees and everything went still and quiet.

She sobbed into the dirt, freshly turned by morning rain. The scent of it filled her nose and she remembered running. Running with bare feet through mossy underbrush just like this, her father lumbering behind her as she squealed with joy.

Her breath heaved with a sob and as she sat back on her haunches, she cradled the gun in her lap.

One silver bullet. One gun. One final kiss.

Monster, she thought.

Mother, she thought—and remembered the smell of the forge and felt the heat on her face.

Her hands shook as she loaded the gun. She held it up to her head, the metal cool in her flushed fingers. It slipped in her fingers and she sobbed harder, the fear spiking hot and fast in her.

Collapsing forward, she sobbed harder, rocking into the dirt.

Toulouse was no warrior, no prince, no woman either—

He was all alone. All alone.

MERIDA:  The ocean was gone. 

When Merida opened her eyes again, the sea-spray had become the cold wet of spring morning. She took a breath and her lungs filled with tastes rich and familiar to her. She had always known the forest. She could have been born here, just another sapling cradled in cool, dark soil until she stretched up her arms through the leaves, toward the sun. 

But she knew this forest in different ways than she knew the forest that surrounded Cawdor--

She had run through here. Not with muddied boots and her wild red hair flowing behind her… she’d run on four legs, claws digging into dirt. She smelled the breaths of the animals and could follow each individual track they’d put down. She had set her own walls in a similar way. Painted it onto the land, not with any colour, but with shit and spit and blood. 

And she could smell that another wolf was in her territory. She knew the wolf’s name--had met the female on the run. They’d danced around each other for days now, the wolf pressing ever inward, trying to take more and more land as if she was looking for something.

But something was wrong now. The scent in the air-- opening her mouth, Merida tasted how it had been tinged with the metallic tang of steel. And gunpowder. 

She moved toward the scent, weaving through this forest that had taken her when no one else had. She moved with purpose, and she moved with hardly a sound.

She found the wolf on the ground, hidden in the human costume that had never fit it--

“Merida--?” her own name, a question on her own lips. 

Merida’s eyes widened and she looked down at herself, not a wolf at all. Just a girl with dirt on her fingers. 

TOULOUSE: Merida looked up.

He recognized the man standing over him. The wolf knew it before he did. This was the wolf that they had met in the woods. Had fought with. A flash of black fur, snarls—in his head it echoed more like a dream than a memory.

But, wasn’t this all a dream? A wistful what-could-have-been?

The gun was heavy and cold in his hand.

Monster, he thought, but it was not his own. Merida’s voice whispered through his mind as it had only done once before.

I deserve it. That voice was his, slicing sharp, hitting its mark and making him hunch over again.

The gun slipped from Merida’s fingers and Toulouse felt the fight leave him. It was a fight that he had had over and over with himself, he knew its fire and knew how cold it felt when snuffed out. His chest was a hollow, empty, aching thing and he wanted to howl and howl until this stranger put that silver bullet in his brain.

Perhaps, he should think himself worth more than silver, but he deserved to let the bullet tarnish in the grassy grave of his once-thoughts as he let the earth which he had always loved so much consume him.

“Just shoot me,” he rasped to the man, who was tall as trees, with a face half in dark shadow. His own eyes were bright as the canopy of trees above, tears dribbling down his cheeks.

“I deserve it. Please,” he begged. The plea felt heavy on his tongue and he wanted to take it back. He would never beg. But the fire was gone, he was a monster, and he deserved it, he deserved it, he deserved it. 

And then, Merida hunched over and let out another sob. This one almost a howl.

MERIDA: She recognized herself and she did not recognize herself.

This was not Merida-- not this girl groveling on the ground, her fingers shaking with a fear that ruled her. Merida never let her fear win. She never hesitated. If she was going to shoot herself, then dammit, she should take the gun and do it without a single tear in her eye. Do everything with pride, do everything with all she had, even if it left her gasping, broken, bleeding in the process-- that was Merida, for better or for worse, even when it left her all alone. 

Though she was alone, wasn’t she? So maybe this hunched creature among the litter really was Merida, the parts of her that was left. 

She should end it then. Merida stared at herself and an anger that belonged to herself and herself only rose in her chest. She wanted to grab herself and drag her onto her feet, spit in her face: end it! 

Instead, she stared at the gun. Slowly, she reached down and picked it up. It wasn’t so heavy to her. Death was not always heavy. It did not have to have the power of an ocean to claim a life. It could be as light as a feather, as easy as pulling the trigger. 

If this broken Merida wouldn’t end it, then this Merida could. 

She pointed the gun at herself. 

But then this Merida hesitated as well. 

Her rage burned itself up so quickly that there was nothing left, and that rage crumbled into ash. Merida’s face twisted. Her hate twisted. It twisted until it was love again, and she could not put a bullet between her own eyes, she could not give this gun back and let herself do the same.

The wind skittered the leaves across the floor and Merida threw the gun away. “No,” she said. 

And then she reached down and held herself together in her arms. 

TOULOUSE: This was it. Lou closed his eyes, his chest shaking with sobs, and waited. He waited and waited and wanted it so badly, it hurt. He was so terrified his entire body ached with it. He just wanted to stop running, stop thinking, stop worrying and stop making mistakes. The only way he could think to do these things was a silver bullet in his brain. Please, he wanted to be again, please let me die. He was cold and alone, even as his executioner stood over him. That was the problem, wasn’t it? He was always alone. The isolation buried itself beneath his skin and rotted him from the inside out, until he was hollow and aching.

There were arms around him.

There were arms around her.

Together, they held each other, and they held themselves.

He was drowning, tasting the salt in his mouth. Sinking, pulled by the currents until he was beneath the waves. He was being pulled from the ocean. She was digging herself a grave, fingernails pressing into the soil. She was lifting a gun to her mouth, ready to pull the trigger. The gun was given away, the gun was tossed aside. It became a useless thing, an empty threat.

They held each other. They bled together, their memories blurring, the lines between them blurring. Their red hair tangled. Their tears mixed on each other’s shoulders.

And they were not alone.

They had been saved, hadn’t they?

In the end.

[rosesnvines]

Hidden World

(For the Jumanji prompt. Sorry it’s short, but I didn’t want another novella on my hands, lol. I already have one, well, technically three, that I’m trying to write and I have to limit myself. I might return to this at a later point, when I’m not trying to juggle two hugs fanfics and an original. Also, I know there isn’t that much Mericcup in here, but it really was trying to become another novella, lol.) 

“Why are we here again?” asked Chrysta Lejune, better known as CC to her friends. She and three other teens, Zak Storm, Hiccup Haddock, and Merida Dunbroch, were standing in Zak’s basement. She had asked his father the question. 

Mr. Storm chuckled. “This is your assignment. Your teacher wasn’t specific on what you needed to do, so, I’m deciding that you’ll get to clean out out our basement.” CC, Hiccup, and Merida glanced around the basement. It really wasn’t that bad. 

“But what are we supposed to do?” asked Hiccup. “Part of the assignment was to clean up. There’s practically nothing here to clean!” 

“You’re going to complain about that?” asked Merida. 

“Well no, not really,” said Hiccup slowly. “But this is going to our grade, and I want a good grade.” 

Mr. Storm chuckled again. “Don’t worry Hiccup, you’ll get a great grade. Provided you do as I ask you.” He pointed at Zak. “That mean you too, young man.” 

Zak grinned sheepishly. “Right, Dad.” He leaned towards Hiccup and whispered, “Besides, it will give you and Merida a chance to get to spend some time together.” 

Hiccup began to blush. “Shh!” 

“Now here’s what I want you to do.” Mr. Storm began giving them instructions. First off, they were going to sort by items, i.e. clothes, papers, wooden items, if any, etc. Then they would sort by trash, recycling, to sell, and keeping. Zak knew the majority of what would go where, but if he wasn’t sure, then he would ask his dad to take a look, provided Mr. Storm wasn’t helping out a customer. When Mr. Storm was satisfied that they knew the instructions well enough, he left them to open the store. The four fell into a pretty rhythmatic sorting, pulling things off shelves and sorting them into different categories. Things were mostly quiet, that is, the four really didn’t speak much to each other, until Hiccup gave a shout. The other three ran to his side. 

“What is it?” asked Merida. 

“What’s wrong?” asked CC. 

“Uh, what in the world is that doing here?” asked Zak, pointing at the thing Hiccup was holding. 

“Well, that’s why I yelled,” said Hiccup. “Part of the reason, anyway. This thing gave me an electric shock!” 

“Huh,” said Zak, taking the thing from Hiccup. “Does that mean it runs on electricity?” 

“Wait, you’ve never seen this before?” asked CC. 

Zak shook his head as he turned over the thing. “No, but I think it looks like a PS game of some sort. Might explain why it shocked Hiccup.” He walked over to a TV and plugged it in. The screen flickered to life, and the symbol of a dragon appeared, followed by the word “begin”. “Huh, it is a game.” 

“Wait, there’s a game in your house that you don’t know about?” asked CC incredulously. 

Zak shot her a look. “Obviously.” He looked back at the screen. “I wonder why my dad didn’t tell me about it.” 

“Unless he forgot about it,” suggested Hiccup. 

Zak shrugged. “It’s possible. Well, let’s play.” 

“What?” blurted Hiccup and CC. 

Zak pointed at the room. “We’re about halfway done. I think we can pause for a break, don’t you think? Besides, it’s not like we have to spend all day cleaning.” 

“He has a point,” said Merida with a shrug. “But, how do we play?” 

“Hang on,” said Zak. He rummaged around in the electronics section and found four controllers. Merida helped him plug them in. Zak pushed a button, and the screen changed to to having four icons in the corners of the screen and several sentences in the middle. “Huh,” said Zak, getting closer to read the print. “‘Dragons are being hunted left and right in an attempt to rid the world of them. But you know of an old seafaring tale, that of a place so secret that no one but dragons can get to. Find this Hidden World and save the dragons.’” He pointed at each of the icons. “There are four characters, a Scottish princess, an Atlantean princess, a pirate captain, and a Viking chief.” 

“OK, that kinda sounds interesting,” said Hiccup as he picked up a controller. 

“I’m curious too,” said CC. “Atlantis could be the Hidden World.” 

“It might not be,” said Hiccup, “otherwise the game would have said so.” 

“Well, I’m going to be the pirate captain,” said Zak as he quickly made his selection. 

“Calling the Atlantean princess!” CC shouted and clicked on the icon. 

Merida groaned. “I guess I’ll be the Scottish princess then.” 

Hiccup sighed. “And that leaves me with the big, burly Viking chief.” 

“Hey, you’ll be big for once in your life, huh?” 

Hiccup eyed Zak. “If you weren’t one of my closest friends, I would pummel you.” 

Zak grinned mischievously. “You mean you’d try?” 

“Well, if he’s a buff, burly Viking Chief, he can,” said Merida with a grin. 

Zak glanced at the screen. “Yeah, it would also help if you selected your character.” 

Hiccup looked a the screen, blinking. “Oh, I thought I clicked it already.” 

Zak scoffed and pointed at it. “Well, it’s saying you didn’t, so go ahead and click it . . . please.” 

Hiccup rolled his eyes. “Oh, alright, since you  asked so nicely . . . sorta.” Zak grinned as Hiccup pushed the button to select the Viking chief. 

“Alright!” There was a pause as they waited on the screen to change, but nothing happened. 

“Uh, is it broken?” asked CC as she glanced at Zak. 

Zak pushed all the buttons on his controller and pounded it before letting out a grunt. “Oh come on! Ugh! It must be frozen. At least we didn’t start the game yet.” 

“Um, maybe it’s not meant for the TV?” asked Hiccup as Zak put down his controller and walked to the TV. 

“But it has the right cords for it! Well, we can try it again, and if it freezes again, then we’ll try the computer.” Zak tapped the TV screen. The screen seemed to ripple. Zak took a startled step back. 

“Uh, Zak, what’s going on?” asked CC. 

“I, I don’t know . . . maybe we should . . . ah!” The ripple began to swirl and seemed to turn into a whirlpool. “Run!” But before anyone could take another step, the whirlpool widened and engulfed them all. 

The next thing Hiccup remembered was that he was falling. He had barely let out a scream when he hit the ground. He rolled a few feet before picking himself up and dusting himself off. He paused when he noticed the change in his attire. “What the?” Instead of jeans and flannel, he was wearing black leather with red draconian symbols decorating his suit. He jumped when he heard a scream and a body falling to the ground near him. He rushed over to the person, and found it was Merida, dressed in a Scottish dress with a bow and quiver strapped to her back. “Merida? Are you alright?” 

“I thought that fall would have hurt more,” she said as she stood up. 

“I’ll take that to mean that you’re fine.” 

Merida rolled her eyes. “Yes Hiccup, I’m fine, thank you for asking.” Two more yells came from their right and two more people fell to the ground. 

“Zak, CC?” 

“Who else?” muttered CC as she got up. She too was wearing a dress, sort of, her skirt was more of a skort with fishnet leggings . She also had fishnet leggings, matching gloves, a purple and yellow starfish on her bodice, anda golden coronet sitting on top of her head. Zak was wearing the typical pirate outfit, complete with an eye patch that had been pushed up so he could use both eyes. The two let out shrieks when they saw Hiccup and Merida, then each other, and finally at themselves. 

“Hey! Where are my clothes?” blurted Zak. 

“What is up with my hair?” blurted CC as she felt the pink ringlets. 

Zak pulled a sword from his back. “Well, at least I hava cool sword.” 

“Glad you think so, matey.” Zak dropped the sword as everyone screamed and dashed behind a couple of trees. “Ouch!” 

“It it it it . . . it can talk!” 

“It is Calabrass, and I’m supposed to help you find the Hidden World!” A roar echoed in the forest. 

“Uh, what was that?” asked Hiccup. 

“Oh, right, Toothless is supposed to help you too. He’s the last of the Nightfuries and the alpha dragon.” 

CC threw up her hands. “Great! We got sucked into a video game where we get new clothes, and new hairstyles, plus we have a talking sword and dragons?” 

“Well, this is a game about saving the dragons, so . . .” Zak shot her a sheepish grin and shrugged. 

“But how do we get out of here?” asked Merida. 

“In order to finish the game, you have to defeat Skullivar and Grimmel, and get Toothless and his mate to the Hidden World safe and sound. Without getting yourselves killed, of course.” 

Hiccup threw up his hands. “Go figure.” 

Merida raised her hand. “But, if we die here, do we die . . . for good?” The group glanced at each other in alarm. 

“That, Mer, that . . . we really shouldn’t have started playing this game!” 

“You’re telling me!” 

CC glared at Zak. “Telling you? You’re the one who wanted to play it!” 

Zak let out an exasperated breath. “How was I supposed to know we would get sucked into the game?” 

Guys!” Everyone glanced at Hiccup. “Listen, we’re here now, we’re going to have to work together and finish playing the game to get out of here!” 

“That’s the spirit!” said Calabrass enthusiastically. “I like that kid, Toothless.” The group turned, startled. There, sitting on either side of Calabrass were two dragons, one white, the other black. 

“Aw!” said Merida as she dashed forward and began petting the black one. “You’re so cute!” The black dragon began panting like a dog. Hiccup started smiling softly. 

“Oh, so you like her, huh, Toothless? I think you;’re not the only one.” 

Zak walked up to the sword and picked it up. “What do you mean by that?” he asked with a soft chuckle. 

“What? Don’t you know? Your . . . mmph!” 

“Shh, I know!” whispered Zak. “It was a rhetorical question!” He removed his hand from the skeleton’s mouth. 

“I see. Well then, we should get going! You don’t have much information on where the location of this Hidden World, and who knows when Skullivar and Grimmel could catch up to us. Let’s go!” 

“Why would we believe you anyway? You’re a talking pirate sword!” said CC. 

“I’m your only hope against Skullivar and Grimmel. Plus I can help you navigate the waters of the Bermuda Triangle.” 

“The Bermuda Triangle?” 

“Wait, did you just say the Bermuda Triangle?” asked CC incredulously. 

“No, I said the Bermuda Square. Of course I said the Bermuda triangle! It’s one of the speculative theories that’s where the Hidden World is located.” 

Zak groaned. “Oh great, we’re heading to one of the most deadly spots in the entire ocean!” 

“But you’ll have me, and the dragons!” said Calabrass enthusiastically. “We’ll be able to help you through it!” 

Hiccup sighed. “Well, we’d better get going and get this over with so we can get back home.” 

“You got it! I’m really liking this kid.” 

Zak groaned. “Really? I’m the pirate captain!” 

“Doesn’t mean I have to like you. But you could grow on me. We’ll see.” 

Zak groaned again, but the group got on the dragons and flew off, eager to just finish the game and find out exactly why this was happening to them.

[astridxhofferson]

 ❝ Don’t mistake my kindness for weakness.  I am kind to everyone, but when someone is unkind to me, weak is not what you are going to remember about me  ❞

𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑡𝑒𝑟⧸𝑓𝑖𝑙𝑒 : astrid hofferson  ▸  viking ( haddock tribe )  ▸  lili reinhart    .

❛❛   aesthetic .  ❜❜   ―   ◜   ❏  . ―  dragons , scars , forests , wildfires , thunder && lightning , oceans , dragonflies , axes , knives , shields , swords , freckles , braids, campfires , hooded fur ,  bruised && bloody knuckles , campfires , ashes , leather , cuts , bruises . ― ✎ penned by gigi , 23 , est , she/her .

▐  ᴀᴛ ᴀ ɢʟᴀɴᴄᴇ ▸

[ NAME ] astrid hofferson . [ GENDER & PRONOUNS ] female ( ♀ ) she/her . [ SPECIES ] human ( hofferson bloodline ) . [ BIRTHDAY & AGE ] sept. 7th , AGE 21 ( twenty-one ) . [ VIKING TRIBE ] haddocks . [ KINGDOM ] dunbroch . [ FACECLAIM ] lili reinhart ( ♆ ) .

▐  ᴘᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ ▸

courageous /  competitive /  loyal /  spirited 

input description

short-tempered /  emotionally driven /  stubborn /  perfectionist

▐  sᴛᴀᴛs ▸

       DRAGONS TOOK EVERYTHING YOU HAD

⚡ — THE TRAGEDY IS WRITTEN IN THE SCARS of the fallen born in an age of FIRE && s w o r d .  murderous beasts .  with their slaughterous talons && their razor-sharp fangs .  generations have been spent drenched in blood && bathed in flames .  with the snapping && cracking of bones still echoing in their nightmares as they watched comrades fall , sometimes helplessly ,  && other times despite every ounce of their heart-clenching effort .  

       a trespass terror in the kingdom of dumbroch’s sky that loomed in every shadow despite the blazes that never failed to lick their way through the wood && foundations that had only just begun to smell familiar to them .  the first thing they took was their childhood , but this is the worst thing , because they didn’t even know it .  they were so young when they were taught that valour && glory is shaped with a battle-cry, a shield && axe .  

       ❝  when you carry this axe ,  you carry all of us with you  ❞

       your legacy ,  your family’s legacy ,  all rests on their shoulders .  they're going to slay a dragon ,  the enemy of dunbroch’s kingdom ,  && take their place among the ranks of their viking warriors .  carrying the name of the once fearless finn who froze at the sight of a DRAGON , bringing the hofferson name down in his shame  -----  there was NOTHING more important than learning how to fight a dragon .  but now , the enchanted world is in ruins .  stuck in a war within a war BE FEARLESS , ASTRID ,           you’re a hofferson .                       YOU’RE A VIKING .

 [  an unwritten tale of princess fishbone becoming a hero/villain the hard/easy way  ]

       DRAGONS GAVE YOU EVERYTHING YOU HAVE

▐  ᴛɪᴍᴇʟɪɴᴇ ▸

[ MONTH / DAY ] accepted into talehqs .

▐  ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ ▸

[ BUILT ] athletic slender , lean && strong ,  fair-skinned ,   freckled ( beauty marks ) ,  a kaleidoscope of scars along her forearms && legs ,  calloused hands . [ DISTINGUISHED FEATURE(S) ] heart-shaped face ,  sharp jawline ,  high cheekbones ,  nordic nose , weathered ,  light freckles dusting across her nose && cheekbones ( more visible in the summer months ) . [ SCAR(S) ] small scrapes && burns littered across her body , numbing tissue , rough calloused hands , arrow gouge just above her right knee ,  tween sharkworm dragon bite imprint on the back of her left shoulder blade . [ HEIGHT ] 5′6 . [ HAIR COLOR ] weathered blond ( styled in a lengthy side-braid draped over her left shoulder ) . [ EYE ] really big , round , stormy bluish-green aquamarine eyes . [ VOICE ] rough ,   jagged  && stormy .  loud-spoken . [ SCENT ] campfire smoke ,  salty tides ,  a touch of eucalyptus-honey,  fresh pine && wild bog myrtle . [ CLOTHING ]  red chest binding ,  dark leather skirt ,  leg bindings , arm-wraps ,  yak fur boots && hood cloaked over her back && shoulders  ( worn in the colder months ) ,  kransen .

▐  ᴀ ᴅᴇᴇᴘᴇʀ ʟᴏᴏᴋ ▸

[ ZODIAC ] virgo ( ♍ ) ,  RULED BY mercury && AFFILIATED WITH earth [ MOON SIGN ] ## . [ SEXUALITY ] bisexual . [ MARITAL STATUS ] single, clueless, and not ready to mingle. [ ABILITY(S)/SKILL(S) ] athletic prowess ,  melee fighting ,  combat ,  sailing ,  dragon tracker ,  the use of axes ,  shields ,  knives ,  swords && improvised weapons . [ THEME SONG(S) ] whats up danger - blackway & black caviar | born for this - the score | 1 800 273 8255 - logic 

&&.   /   THE HOUSE OF HOFFERSON :  astrid was born into the house of hofferson of the haddock tribe in the kingdom of dunbroch.  &&.   /   DREAM :  astrid dreams of creating a name for herself as a warrior .  when she was younger ,   she dreamed of fighting dragons in the mists of the shores of dunbroch .  she dreamed of valour && glory .  dreamed of becoming renowned for her combative prowess && strategic mind ,  in honour of the family who had perished around her so quickly .  but her dream has no future .  she’ll die on the battlefield ,  which is the most honourable way to go for a viking warrior . &&.   /   INPUT :  coming soon &&.   /   CURRENTLY :  ( cause I couldn’t find a good angle this was the best I got )  with the whisper of war the chief stoick the vast && gobber the belch sent the haddock dragon trainees to collect intel && put their extreme survival skills to the test for the next couple of months in teams of two as they go about travelling from one kingdom to the next .   &&.   /   SNOGGLETOG :  when hiccup was 16 winters he gave astrid a knife ( that she still has to this day ) he forged himself && oddly after that every snoggletog they’d exchange gifts && sorta --- kinda -- talk  &&.   /   WEAPON TESTER :  hiccup lures astrid with his strange weapons as she honestly enjoys testing them out .  her favourite invention thus far is his megapult ( ♆ ) . &&.   /   CHOICE :  ( unaffiliated ) a model shieldmaiden && dragon trainee who sticks along with the viking status quo .  she executes others plans && ideas .  LATER; hiccup is the one who frequently comes along with the revolutionary ideas && out-of-the-box thinking .  whenever he does so ,  astrid trusts his judgement && executes his plans && supports the plan that hiccup contrives .  && like a general she chooses his choice of action rather heroic or villainous .  for now ,  astrid is unaffiliated until hiccup decides what side of the war he’s really on .

▐  ᴄᴏɴɴᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴs ▸

x. HICCUP HORRENDOUS HADDOCK THE THIRD ( chasin’ all the wrong things most of my life been every kinda lost that you can’t find but I got one thing right, you ) the fishbone of a boy who cried dragon .

x. PRINCE ERIC ANDERSON ( lyric ) input .

[wolfie-dragon-rider]

Bursts of Light, Day 25: Gazing Into Each Other’s Eyes

A/N: Sorry it's been a while since the last update! Just days left. I can't believe it's almost over! Still, reviews are always appreciated, and they really help! Thanks for reading!

--------------------------------

Hiccup and Astrid are about 36 in this one. Thora and Claybones are 16 and 14 respectively.

"You know, Hiccup. I think Thora might have an eye on that DunBroch boy," Astrid told her husband. He dropped his fork, and it loudly clattered on his plate, making some of the council look up from their food and at them.

"Wh-what makes you think that?" he asked, awkwardly feeling for his fork. Unfortunately, the handle had fallen into the gravy, making him grimace when he felt the goop on his fingers.

"Oh, just that she has barely stopped looking at him. And she's laughing at every joke he makes," Astrid said, looking away from her husband licking the gravy from his fingers to look at the other high table, where their children sat with the emissaries from Scotland. Thora was positively glowing, eyes wide as she looked at the red-headed boy. Every time he turned in her direction she looked away, though Astrid could tell from the little smile on his lips that he wasn't completely blind.

She almost chuckled at the thought that unlike her husband, this cheeky boy wasn't oblivious to flirting.

"Oh. I see. I, uhm… I guess they'd be a good match. He's the brother of the queen of DunBroch, so that would come with a powerful alliance. And he's… not the oldest brother, I think? They're triplets, right? That complicates things. Well, either way, I'm sure that if something were to happen to Queen Merida one of his brothers would step forward to take the throne. So he could live here when Thora becomes chief without having to worry about ruling Scotland," Hiccup slowly said. Astrid knew that tone. It was his analytical mind taking over, repressing his emotions. He might be correct, but this wasn't everything he felt.

"Surely there's more to it than politics, Hiccup. Come on, tell me what you're really thinking," she said, putting her hand on his. It made him smile.

"I… I hadn't realized that she was already at that age. I'm not gonna be like… Snotlout and not realize that my daughter is gonna grow up and make choices for herself. She should, I won't stand in her way, I don't want to be overprotective. I just… forgot she's already 16," he whispered, turning away a little and playing with his fork.

"It all went so fast, didn't it," she said, before turning back to her food. She sensed Hiccup didn't want to talk about it in public, so she gave him some space. Every other bite she glanced at the other table, where the lovebirds were now talking. Astrid couldn't help but notice her daughter had barely touched her food, a sure sign she was excited and full of energy.

Thankfully Kirsten had talked to both Thora and her brother extensively about intimacy, so Astrid didn't expect any rash decisions or irreversible mistakes to happen quickly, but it was interesting to see the two teenagers bond so much just through looks.

Some part of her felt jealous. Although she and Hiccup were as close as they could be, being able to look into each other's eyes was something they had never been able to do, and would never be able to do in the future, barring an absolute miracle.

But she suppressed that jealousy. There was no point in dwelling on things that couldn't be.

Hiccup was distant throughout the rest of the banquet, and she could tell his mind was also dwelling on young love.

--------------------------------

Hiccup was tired when he walked through the door of their little house. Despite being the chief for over a decade now he hadn't moved into his father's house. It hadn't been designed with his disabilities in mind, so at the end of a long day like this, when his leg ached and his face itched, he was glad he didn't have to climb long stairs or stumble around bulky furniture.

Today the pain was deeper than his leg or face, however. Gods, he couldn't stop thinking about what Astrid had said about their daughter. He hadn't even been able to focus on the trade agreement with DunBroch, instead delaying the talks until tomorrow. Hopefully, a good night's sleep would clear his mind.

It wasn't even that he hated the thought of his little girl growing up. Of course, some part of him would always think of her as his little girl, but he knew and accepted she'd fall in love and marry and probably have babies herself.

What bothered him was that he hadn't been able to see any of it. Hiccup remembered a day almost 15 years ago when Thora was learning to walk. It was agony, knowing she was right there, inches away from his outstretched fingers, and he couldn't reach out to her. She had to make the move, she had to walk towards him on her own.

It was only through Astrid's gasps and words of encouragement that he could even know his baby was taking her first steps. Hiccup had briefly wondered if this was the gods toying with him again, giving him this wonderful child and yet making sure he couldn't see any of her achievements.

"Alright, I know that face. Something's bothering you. Out with it," Astrid said as he sat down with a heavy sigh. She walked around, lighting the fireplace and grabbing a mug to make tea.

"Just… thinking about how quickly our children grew up. I feel like I just… I missed everything. I couldn't see any of what they're doing, what they're making, building, accomplishing," he whispered, reaching his hand out to the papers pinned on the wall next to him. Drawings made by Thora and Claybones when they were younger. Thora had stopped drawing a while ago, but Claybones had found a purpose in art, drawing and painting for hours at a time. Opposite his chair, on the wall above the fireplace, hung one of his latest paintings. Berk from the sky, apparently. It could be blank and Hiccup wouldn't know.

"Oh, babe. You know you still did amazing. And they talk to you! That's more than Snotlout is managing with his kid apparently," Astrid said, putting the kettle on for tea.

"I don't know, it doesn't feel like that. It feels like Clay just hangs out with Kirsten all day, not with me. He really lost interest in inventing and engineering lately. And Thora… She talks more easily with you and with my mom. I can't relate to her athletic stuff," he slowly said, frowning as Astrid sat down next to him. She took his hand and squeezed it gently.

"Sure, they might not be able to talk to you about their hobbies, but when it matters, when it's important things they're struggling with, you know who they go to? Not their grandmothers, not their friends. It's you, their father. Do you know how rare that is for teenagers? Maybe you not being able to see them makes it easier for them to open up, show you their secrets," Astrid whispered, before kissing his cheek.

"I guess you're right. I just… I wish I could see Clay's paintings. I wish I could watch Thora win all those Thawfest competitions. And… I wish I could see them fall in love," he eventually said. A moment later the door opened with a loud creak, and Hiccup recognized the squeaking of his son's wheelchair.

"Uuuuuugh, I wish I could unsee it. Believe me, Dad, it's not worth it. I had to watch her and Hamish make googly eyes at each other all day! This is worse than when she had her crush on Ingrid Lodbrok! Or how Leifnir and Rufflout kept looking at each other after sleeping together that after Gand's birthday party!" Claybones ranted as he wheeled himself into the house.

"What are you talking about? Ingrid? Thora liked Ingrid? And what is this about Leifnir and Rufflout sleeping together?!" Astrid said angrily, standing up, and Hiccup could hear his son's sharp inhale.

"Wait, that wasn't actually common knowledge? I thought it was obvious, given how they interact, you'd have to be blind not to- Uh, sorry Dad didn't mean it like that. I mean, how can you miss it? And all the other stuff that's going on around Berk. Like today, I can't even look away from Thora and her new Scottish love without seeing old man Sven still trying to woo Mrs. Anderson, and obviously the Hokkersdotters are going through a rough patch, Mr. Hokkersdotter was buying jewelry, always indicates marital problems. I'm pretty sure his wife is cheating, just not sure with who. Either Trader Hansen or that emissary from the Meatheads. Maybe both," Clay said, clearly letting out some frustration. Hiccup laughed nervously.

"Look son, it's… impressive that you can notice all of that, it's just that most people don't. So you shouldn't assume everyone knows all the secrets you figure out with a glance," he slowly said, head still spinning from all these revelations.

"I know that! I'm the only one who understands how people work, apparently! Gods, it's the worst! Nobody understands my pain! Least of all Thora, she didn't even notice Hamish quickly hiding his red handkerchief in his back pocket when he saw she was interested in him. My guess is it's a gift from another girl. But can I tell her that? Can I be a good brother and warn her that her new crush is a womanizer? Noooooo, because that's 'gossiping' and 'spreading rumors'," Clay ranted, wheeling himself through the living room to the back where his bedroom was.

"Just go to bed. I think you drank too much, you're a little too angry, Clay. And don't ruin this for your sister," Astrid said sharply, making Clay groan.

"Fiiiine. I'm going, I'm going. And I won't tell her. She'll figure it out by herself. Eventually. The hard way. And that's when I can warn her about everything the next boy is doing. Or girl. She swings both ways," he said, maneuvering his chair around so he could open the door to his bedroom.

"That's quite enough. We'll talk about this in the morning. I know you mean well, but you're not thinking clearly right now," Hiccup said, turning so he faced his son, even if he couldn't see him.

The only response was a slammed door.

"See? He's going through awful puberty but he's still completely honest with us," Astrid whispered, sitting down next to him again.

"A little too honest. Gods, I did not want to know about the Hokkersdotters. Or Snot's daughter and Leifnir. Do you think he's right about everything he said?" Hiccup said, covering his head with his hands.

"Probably. Drunk or not, Clay is good at reading people. Thor almighty, and to think I was bothered by Thora looking at other people. It's our son for whom the eyes are the window to the soul. I wonder if he figured out any of our secrets," Astrid chuckled. Hiccup tried not to think too much about that.

"Well, at least my face is hard to read, right?" he joked, grabbing Astrid's hand.

"Hah, you wish. You're an open book. You can't hide any emotions. If I can figure out what you think, so can he. And anyone else on Berk for that matter," Astrid laughed. He couldn't help but laugh with her.

They sat together for a while, hands intertwined, and Hiccup figured that even if they could actually look into each other's eyes, they wouldn't be any closer than they already were.