#swynmerida

In which Harris reveals a secret to Merida...[takes place: idk probably sometime in June]

@heart-of-dunbroch

[tw -- self loathing, anti magick sentiment]

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@heart-of-dunbroch

Belle had invited Merida for a ride. Or, well, more accurately: she had waited until a time when hers and Merida’s schedules had aligned and then made sure she was at the little barn on her property, already grooming Philippe when Merida strolled up. They’d tacked up and gone out. It wasn’t so odd. The only thing odd were the questions on Belle’s tongue. 

She tried to forget them, pressing her heels into Philippe’s sides so they sprung forward, the two horses galloping along. Those uncomfortable conversations left far behind, torn up underneath their horses pounding hooves.

It was only when they were walking back, reins slack, cooling the horses down, that Belle decided she should bring it up. Otherwise, she wouldn’t. 

“Merida,” Belle said, gathering her reins and sitting up a little straighter. “May I ask you about something? It has to do with the Rescue Aid Society.” 

Out in the woods, she didn’t mind naming it. There was no one except, maybe, the Prince to hear. The only problem was, although Belle had not been given much information, just Merida’s name and that she had been a ward of the RAS--she had been able to put together how those two paths had crossed. When Merida had been released from prison, Belle had been furious. She hadn’t understood why or how. 

Now, it made sense. She didn’t hold it against Merida. In fact, if she had been on the other side of things, she would be right along with the RAS, trying to free her. But, it was a time in their relationship they rarely spoke of. It was painful and difficult and Belle was rather shy about painful and difficult conversations. Merida was quite the same. It had been easier to just accept, forgive, and move on. Now, they would need to talk about it, if Belle was gonna get all of the information that she needed in order to make the best decision for her career and her family. 

@heart-of-dunbroch

Tom had trekked out to the castle in the woods. He’d never been there before. When he’d been--on his mission, they had avoided it because they knew the wolf would know if they’d been there. It had been easier to draw Merida out to the Acherons. Just thinking this as he made his way there made his stomach churn. He had no idea if Merida, or even Aunt Elinor, would listen to him. He was hoping that if it wasn’t for him, they’d at least do it for the bairn.

Or the wolf could tear his throat out before he even got a word out. As he pushed the rusting gate open and it creaked loudly, he realized he could’ve called ahead, but he didn’t want them to say no before he’d even had a chance to say his piece. 

It wasn’t even that he wanted to ask forgiveness. Well, he did. He wanted more than anything to as forgiveness, but he knew he probably shouldn’t. What he had done wasn’t forgivable. It felt ironic, honestly, to think how he’d lost both his family in the Order and his family that had already managed to escape it all in one slash of his sword.

It wasn’t any more than he deserved. He probably deserved to be buried in the dirt right now. Not probably. Certainly. 

And yet, here he was. Standing in front of the large, oak door reaching up to knock. 

He stepped back just as the door opened. 

“Tom?” His aunt’s expression went from surprised to guarded as she wiped her hands on a towel. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“Aye, I know.” He raised his hands slightly in a defensive gesture. “I dunnae have any weapons. I just--came to talk. Please. It is important.” 

Aunt Elinor looked uncertain. 

“I have information about the Order lurking,” Tom tried again.

“Very well.” Elinor moved stiffly away from the door, letting him in and closing it behind him. “Go to the sitting room.” She gestured to the right. “I will fetch Merida.” 

Tom nodded and moved to the sitting room, just as he heard his aunt’s footsteps retreating up the stairs. “Merida!” he heard from the hallway and despite himself, he felt his lip twitch in a smile. “Get down here!” He sat down in one of the plush seats, then thought better of it and stood, moving to the fireplace and setting about building a fire. 

@heart-of-dunbroch

Harris and Hamish had been biding their time. The snow that had fallen in the woods was thicker than in town, meaning that it had stuck around and kept piling up. Mam had made them shovel the long drive going up to the front of the castle. but now they were mostly done and realized that the snow piled up on either side of the drive was the perfect place for an ambush.

And wouldn’t you know it, but their sister was coming home shortly.

It was Harris who had spotted their perfect cover, behind a short bush, half-hidden by snow. They had made enough snowballs to have a sizeable stack. Harris kept going over them, making sure they were packed tight and of a good, throwable size. Hamish busied himself quietly making more ammo and digging them out a little trench to access more snow.

It was nice. And fun. It felt like a long time since they’d had fun. Their birthday was coming up and it just felt...disappointing. They were supposed to become knights this year, graduating from squires, but that was never going to happen now. The promises they’d been given their whole lives had disappeared like smoke. Not that either of them minded much, but it was still...weird.

Both were trying not to think about it. This was better anyways.

Merida appeared eventually and Harris whistled quietly for Hamish to get down. He gestured with a hand to his lips, then pointed at his ear. Right, Merida was a werewolf now. She had super hearing. Next, he put his hand out to stay Hamish’s throw.

Hamish nodded.

They waited and waited and waited--

@heart-of-dunbroch

The door to the castle opened and shut with its characteristic boom.

“Ach, that’ll be your sister,” Elinor said as she stood up, the pan of roasted chicken in her arms from where she’d just taken it out of the oven. She had left it warming. “Hamish, fetch your sister.”

“Yes, Mam,” the youngest triplet said dutifully and skipped out of the kitchen, probably grateful to get away from the black cloud of Elinor’s mood.

Harris went back to setting the table silently.

The smell of chicken and roasted vegetables filled the room as Elinor set it on the table and took her seat just as Merida and Hamish appeared in the doorway.

“You’re late,” Elinor said in a voice that made it very clear she didn’t want to hear any excuses. She cut into the chicken. “Wash your hands before you sit down.”

Hamish had already scampered to his seat and it scraped against the stone floor as he tucked in. Harris was already sitting quiet and straight-backed on Elinor’s other side.

As soon as Merida took her seat, Elinor glanced at all of her children. Well. Her eyes lingered over the empty chairs. Not all of her children.

“I was thinking, for the boys’ birthday, we could go up to London.”

Harris brightened slightly. Hamish looked surprised.

“Really?” Harris asked, excitedly.

“I don’t see why not.” Elinor glanced across the table at her daughter, “as long as Merida’s busy schedule will allow it.”

@heart-of-dunbroch​

"Come now, there must be something you like here, Mishmish,” Elinor said as she flipped through the racks of button ups. “What about this one? It would look lovely with your eyes.”

Elinor pulled out the deep blue sweater and held it up to him.

“Mam, I cannae wear a sweater, I’ll boil alive.”

Elinor clucked her tongue but returned the sweater. This was proving more difficult than she thought. Since when did her boys care so much about how they looked? Was it because they were nervous starting school? They wanted to be impressive?

“Fine, what about this?” She pulled out a green plaid button up.

Hamish made a face.

“Merida, tell your brother that no one is gonna care what he wears and unless he picks something, I’m sending him to school nekkid as a wee bairn.”

@oh-heartlessman, @heart-of-dunbroch, @labellerose-acheron

Elinor was not happy with this arrangement. She didn’t trust this sorcerer and she knew that Belle didn’t trust her. She was coming to resent the maroon couches in Belle’s living room. All they every spoke about was magic on them. Nothing else. 

The DunBrochs had arrived slightly ahead of Howl, so they were settling in. Belle had graciously made tea (at least she had manners in one aspect, thought Elinor to herself.) She perched in front of the fireplace, glowing with mysterious blue flame, her back to it and a warm mug of tea in her hands. The babies were no where in sight, which Elinor was not thrilled about, as the babies were a very good distraction form the curse that lurked in her bones. 

There was nothing for that, though, as there was a knock at the door, Belle scurrying over to grab it, wrapping her golden cardigan around herself. The two exchanged suspicious, murmured words before Belle popped up to kiss the wizard’s cheeks. 

Elinor made a little face, even though she was trying to be gracious. A demon, a werewolf, and now a flashy sorcerer? No wonder the Order had been after this girl. Elinor wasn’t saying they were right but--it made sense. (Also, they could’ve   been right, only time would tell.) 

As Howl and Belle came back, Belle went to her spot in front of the eerie fire. “Elinor,” --Elinor was still not used to having her proper named called by such a child, especially because she was sure she could hear sarcastic bitterness. “--this is Howl Pendragon. Howl, this is Elinor DunBroch.” 

“How do you do?” she answered, stiff but with the guise of manners that had been taught to her over decades. “You can cure it then?”

@heart-of-dunbroch​

It had taken the better part of a week to find where her daughter was holed up. And the better part of the day to actually make it there. That was not because the directions she had been given were wrong, or because it was a particularly long journey. It was because Elinor took her time. These were strange woods to her and she knew a thing or two about strange woods. Especially enchanted forests like this one. One must always be on their guard, never stray from the path, and always be prepared for trouble.

And--she was also stalling.

For it may’ve taken the better part of a week to find Merida, but it had taken the better part of two years to gather the courage to start searching in the first place. There was a shame that came with something like that. She could hardly explain it and she knew there was no justification. As she walked, she prepared herself for Merida’s fury at something like that. Her daughter had always been about loyalty and Elinor knew what kind of betrayal that was: Elinor was loyal too. 

So, she was trying to tell herself that this wasn’t the joyful, tearful reunion that Elinor’s heart yearned for. All that mattered was that Elinor laid eyes on her daughter. Saw that she was alive and well. And kept her in one place long enough to tell her that the Golden Trio was hunting her. After that--

Well, Elinor didn’t know. 

Eventually, she could stall no longer and she made it to the gates of the castle. She took a moment to observe them. Wrought iron, but rusted and flaking. Clearly not taken care of. They looked to be 19th century, though the walls surrounding the castle appeared older--and crumbling.

Elinor frowned, but pushed gently through the gates. They did not squeal, so at least there was that. The cobbled walkway up to the main entrance of the castle was covered in a layer of leaves and overgrown with weeds and she felt an emotion that she had not felt in several years. Annoyance. The annoyance of a mother whose child had not cleaned up after herself. Again. 

At the door, she raised the iron knocker and knocked three times before stepping back and crossing her arms against the chilly spring breeze. Or her own insecurities. She took a deep breath, calming her heart as she waited for the door to open.

When it finally did, Elinor let out her breath and immediately blinked away tears.

“Merida,” she said, “a bhobain.”