Chapter three

Mist rolled across the shoreline in a thick, grey cloud, breaking only for the protruding masts of the boats that were rowing from the south and onto their beaches. A drizzle had started to pour from the black clouds that hung from above. Though the weather was almost always dark and dreary, it seemed, to Merida, to be a sign. She wasn't supposed to marry one of the Lord's sons.

Merida watched as the three large boats sailed closer to the dull beach, their anchors dropping as they finally slowed to a stop. She had managed to escape her mother's clutching claws and had rode from the castle to the beach, on the back of Angus. On foot the journey would take almost two hours from the sea to the castle, giving time to anchor and wade through the icy and sometimes rough tide. The shores of Dunbroch had an unforgiving nature- especially toward the unfamiliar. Not many people venture more than a mile from the safety of the castle walls.

For Merida, it took less than an hour to return. To her, that left plenty of time to get ready, though most of it would be taken up by her mother's persistent nagging.

"Good lord, why do you do this to me?" Elinor's voice was close to a screech as she pulled Merida from the stables once again.

"I only went for a ride." She whined, as she was dragged back to the castle.

The preparations for the tournament had begun barely a day after Merida had been told of her marriage to be. She hadn't fully adjusted to the fact that in a matter of days she may be sailing away to a home far less grander than her own and a family that she would have responsibility of. It was daunting: the idea that she would never have the life that she wanted. In the end, she knew she would have to put up with it, for the sake of her kingdom and her family- though she would never tell her mother so.

"Did you see the clans?" Elinor asked, as she whisked her into her room, pushing her down onto a chair by the window.

"Yes they were anchoring."

Elinor suddenly stopped brushing through her hair, spinning her around in slight panic.

"They didn't see you, did they?"

"No, mother. I had Angus." Merida groaned, taking the brush from her hand and doing it herself.

Her mother moved to the wooden desk in the corner of the room and retrieved a long piece of golden ribbon. She moved the brush out of the way, before beginning to twirl the ribbon around her hair, weaving it intricately until it was wound together, laying down her back, all the way to her legs.

"Now put this on. Almost ready."

Elinor dropped the dress to the floor, holding it as her daughter stepped into the fabric before pulling it up and resting it on her shoulders. The blue material hung limply until it was pulled tightly at the back, a long bow left hanging.

Merida felt like a doll. The stiff material held her in place, her arms jutting at an angle to prevent the seams from ripping. The dress reached the floor, it's tail trailing behind and wrapping around her feet.

"You look beautiful." Her mother said, her words for once sincere and loving. Merida smiled warmly in return.

"I don't think I can walk in this." She breathed, as she stepped forward to grip her mother's outstretched arms.

"Give me a turn." Elinor called, as she helped her start off her movement by lightly swinging her arms. Merida sighed as she twirled, her movements awkward and blocky.

"I can't do this." She whispered, her eyes blinking as she cast her eyes down toward her covered feet.

"Merida, my daughter..." her mother began, her eyes welling with emotion, but she lifted her chin, swallowing her feelings. "We must go prepare."

Merida nodded as she followed her mother out of the room with slow and careful steps. The main hall was empty of people but crowded with decoration and furniture. Her mother had ensured that the event would be big- huge even- and the whole kingdom had been prepared for the festivities. Merida couldn't have escaped it, even if she had tried with all her might.

"Remember to smile." Elinor muttered through her own regal grin, as she sat down on her throne.

Merida followed closely, sitting at an angle that would enable her to breath somewhat easily.

Her father and three brothers were no where in sight. The two sat in silence, both looking opposite ways as they waited for the opening ceremony to begin. There was a single chair between them, the King's, and to each side were her brothers' own. These throne's were smaller, due to their younger age, despite them looking far from their youth.

"Elinor, they're here." Her father rushed into the room, his leg leg clopping against the floor as he hobbled quickly.

Hamish, Hubert and Harris followed swiftly after him, making it to their thrones as the queen gave her orders.

"Open the doors!" She shouted, and with her strong voice, her orders were immediately followed.

The large wooded door was thrown open, allowing the three clans to flood through the threshold in one massive group. Separating only when they came to the front of the main hall, they stood by their flags, the three coloured clothes hanging high above their heads.

The room still felt empty and barren, even though it was filled with people. At the same time, Merida felt like she was suffocating. Maybe it was the tightness of her dress that caused the sensation, or maybe it was the pressure of the situation itself, that she had been forced into only days ago.

King Fergus stood from his throne promptly. His hand was raised forcefully into the air as he let out a prideful battle cry, reciprocated from the three clans.

"Here today, is monumental. We have the four clans together for the first time since the raid of the northmen!" He followed his short speech with another war cry. He almost stuttered.

"We welcome you for the presentation of the suitors." Elinor shouted, smiling broadly down at the familiar faces, while filling in for her husband.

"Lord Dingwall." She called, moving her hand out gracefully and beckoning the man forward to speak.

"My son, Jacobus Dingwall." He said politely, bowing away slightly at the end to reveal the young boy.

He was close in age to Merida, his head the typical dusty ginger, and his skin a youthful and rosy red. He looked skinny enough, that Merida though he might not have been able to even pick up a sword himself.

"Aw, wee lamb." She cooed, chuckling lightly as he blushed from the attention, while attempting to straighten his back.

"Can't say I didn't expect it." Her father leaned in, whispering to her lightly.

Elinor bowed her head, accepting the presentation before calling out to the next clan.

"Lord Macintosh."

"Your majesty, I present my own son, who defended our lands from northern invaders with his own sword." Macintosh called, and Lord Dingwall clearly scoffed at the more lengthy presentation.

Macintosh was slightly older, with a slimmer build and toned, muscular arms. His hair was longer, like the lords Merida had seen in Mercia or Northumbria. It flopped over his face as he smirked. He thinks he's pretty, Merida thought.

"Well what else is he going to fight them with?" Merida swiped from under her breath, referencing the sword.

"He could have charmed them with his floppy locks." Her father mutter to her, and Merida chuckled silently and proudly.

"I'm surprised he could see his own sword with that hair."

"Fancy." King Fergus whispered. He tucked his face behind his hand, making their conversation unintentionally more obvious.

"Lord Macguffin."

"I present my son Malcolm, the strongest of my army, who singlehandedly crushed a fleet of Vikings during the invasion."

For Lord Macguffin, his son didn't need to step out and present himself. He was already in view with attention. Though he was a similarly small build like Macintosh, he was tall and clearly strong, while looking nothing like the massive, stout men in Dunbroch. It was the large scar that ran across his ageing face and into his gingery beard that drew focus from all.

"I think we've found one." Her father teased from beside her, and Merida snorted, lifting herself from where she leaned absentmindedly on her arm.

"Be quiet." Elinor hissed from beside the two, as the attention was drawn away from the family for a single moment.

"He's old!" Merida continued, but her father shook his head dismissively.

"I'm older than your mother."

"That's different- it's only by five years." She said. Between her and Malcolm Macguffin, it would be more like fifteen or so years.

"I can't understand a word he's saying." She added, listening as he made a comment about what she assumed to be his surprising strength.

"Let's celebrate!" Her mother interrupted them by standing, widening her arms and shouting happily. "With food and drink prepared for days for this single event!"

Elinor snapped back to them with a glare, before standing up abruptly and walking down to the set tables. The regal family joined them, her brothers spreading around old friends while she followed the King and Queen to the Lords and their sons.

"Merida, remember what I've told you." Elinor said, and Merida sighed, nodding.

"I know, be a lady."

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