She's bored and curious and her parents won't let her help with the boxes, too many delicate things that her childish fists could break. They leave her to exploring the new house. She grows tired of the walls too quick and ventures outdoors, the yard square and filled with dying grass and scarce plants. There's woodland encompassing half of it, daring her to go on an adventure. The other side is fenced off and that's somehow more inviting.

Merida picks a hole in the wood that's just a little higher than her. On her tip toes, she can peer through to where the grass is indeed much greener. It's cared for. She spies a small kid, he must be as young as her and he's nothing special, but he can be her much needed distraction. She calls out to him "Wot're ye drawing?"

He's distracted from his masterful crayon art at the sound of her voice. Eyes as green as the grass look about for the source, and when he fails to find it, shrugs to himself and returns to his task.

She tries again.

"Ah said, wot're ye drawing?"

The first time they see more than each other's peering eye there's a giant of a man behind Hiccup, clasping his shoulder and grinning from behind an impressive beard. He scares Merida a bit and she clutches at her mother's skirts, her juice box forgotten.

Their parents get on well enough, and the kids are left alone to run amok.

She proudly shows him her room that she gets all to herself, tells him that they're going to paint it her favourite green in a few days. "Ye should come over and help."

He doesn't tell her that they're too small to be of any use. "I'd love to"

Her grin is the brightest thing he's ever seen.

They spend a lot of time hunting for trolls. Merida swears that she's seen them creeping through their woods at night. She bounces beside him clutching her little bow and arrows.

"They keep stealin' mah socks, but only tha lef' ones fer some reason."

Hiccup shifts the wooden sword in his hands. Together, armed as they are, he feels powerful, and he admires the notion that she'll be the one protecting him

He laughs at her giddiness, all trepidation dissipating as they help each other over a fallen log.

"We must be getting close." He insists, a pointed look directed at the other fallen logs further ahead.

Her little face scrunches up in concentration as she arms herself, the suction cup of the arrow temporarily facing the wrong way.

"Raaaahr" She squeals at the sudden noise her father makes, then clamps her mouth shut, puts her finger to her lips, telling Hiccup to be quiet.

Together they creep towards the source, Merida leading the way. In another instant they're both hoisted onto broad shoulders and they're giggling, the red-head pounding on her father's shoulder and demanding release.

She drops daintily to the ground and lifts her bow to point at the man once more.

"Ye better let go of mah prince too or ye'll get an arrow in the eye."

He can't help that he's fascinated by her hair. The colour alone is distracting enough, but when she's sat picking at daisies and making him a crown, he can't help but marvel at how, if he made one for her, they'd be lost in the mess forever.

The world's a blur and he's breathless when he finally throws himself onto the spinning contraption that Merida perches upon, her face alight with joy as her hair whips around her.

"You're getting heavy." He teases with a small pant.

She responds with a light kick to the shoulder.

Together they watch the world pass them by until the momentum's gone, and they're left staring at the swing set in a rare moment of quietness. Then she leaps over him a cry of challenge filling the air.

"Race ye to the swings."

"Hey, hold on, not fair!"

She's already clutching at the chains that suspend them when he's off the wooden platform and her face scrunches as her little, pink tongue pokes out at him in her successful taunt.

"Ah bet I can swing higher than you."

She's entirely at ease with herself, her movement fluid when she drops onto the seat and propels it backwards to start the back and forth motion. Her little legs barely reach the ground.

"You need a push?" He asks

She's still bitter that he has a little extra height on her after their summer together. She used to be the tall one. In rebuttal, she kicks off, her grace in the moment at discord with what he knows of her.

The summer has to end eventually, and they have to face school. Their dads take them out together to buy backpacks and shoes and uniform and they make it as difficult as they can.

Merida's the lead in the adventures. She creeps through the aisles and keeps them hidden, when their dads step on the escalator, she drags him in the opposite direction. Part of him feels bad, but he loves Merida's company too much to ever say no.

Her hand grips his a little too tight when Elinor shoos them into the classroom. He smiles at her, despite the snakes in his own stomach and they hang their bags next to each other before eyeing up the others in the room.

They decide that they only need each other.

"I didn't know there would be a clown in our class miss." One boy's already far too comfortable, and his bitter words are aimed at Merida's hair. She scowls at him and Hiccup joins in.

"Ye got a problem with me?" He catches the tremor in her voice. She had been worried about this the day before. There's a ripple of sniggers at the sound of her accent and she sets herself back down, hunches into herself.

For now, she won't let Hiccup in.

They sit outside the principal's office, bruises blossoming on their cheeks and knees red. Merida kicks her dangling legs while Hiccup stares at the ground as though it's the reason why they're there.

She almost laughs at the petulant look on his face. He's always like this when they get in trouble.

When the three other perpetrators shuffle out she smiles a promise at him behind their backs. He won't be the one getting the blame, she'll make damn sure of it.

No matter how many words she hisses at the principal behind her desk, she can't make the woman see that he was only doing what he always does- look out for her.

That's the first time a promise between the two of them breaks.

It's raining when the school year ends, puddles fill the yard and Hiccup's reluctant to get wet. Merida loves it and can't leave the classroom quick enough. She bounces up and down on the balls of her feet.

Some of the excitement stems from the fact that she's taller than him again. They had measured everyone's height on the door frame that morning so that they could check how much they had all grown when the next summer is up.

He hangs back, rummaging in his bag for something they both know isn't there until all of the other kids are gone, along with Merida's patience.

"If ya don' 'urry up I'll leave without you."

"Go on then, I'll catch up." She bites her bottom lip at his words. She didn't mean it.

"Wot exac'ly are you doing?" Her blue eyes peer into his bag, hoping that she can find an explanation. She finds it in his sinking shoulders and heavy breath. Furtive glances to the teacher mean it's not a good space to talk, so she snatches his wrist with one hand and his bag with another.

She drags him into the girl's bathroom, despite his digging heels and protests. "Mer, please, what if someone sees me?"

"Everyone's gone 'ome fer the summer, remember? Now explain." She blocks the door, leans against it as casually as if they were at home, his still open bag at her feet.

He knows that she won't let him go until he tells her why he's wasting her time, but the words sit heavy in his throat and he can't quite find a way to voice this nausea that he feels in his gut. Hiccup's shoulders slump, his fists curl, held close to his sides. He's almost shocked to find himself trembling, hot tears building up behind his eyes and he chokes on every negative emotion he's held down since they've met.

He doesn't deserve her comfort.

He shrinks in on himself and gasps for the air that his closed throat denies him. She envelopes the boy and stops his sobs from echoing back at him, they now get lost in the net that is her hair. Soon the tremors turn to shaking, and he's heaving in a different way- with laughter.

"Your hair tickles"

Neither of them like to spend time in their own home, they prefer the company of the other's parent(s). They always joke about swapping, but sometimes they mean it. Each is everything the other is not. They almost balance each other out entirely, and no one would ever have it different.

To solve their problem, they create their own space. Amongst the woods they have their own kingdom to rule over, they spend hours climbing trees and racing each other along imaginary roads and paths.

The two move away from their troll hunting and take up fighting dragons or playing as Vikings. Merida tells him of Scottish lore and history, about how her ancestors used to be at war with the barbarians, and they play at those fights. She's the Scottish princess warrior, he's the Viking chief's son; their friendship is forbidden and they take turns saving each other from their own allies.

The third time that he tucks his wooden sword into his belt and offers her his hand, she takes it, but she doesn't let go, she instead, tugs him close and plants a rather wet kiss on his cheek in thanks.

2:14am, he finds her in his tree house, eyes red and she looks smaller than he can ever remember seeing her. She doesn't even acknowledge his entrance, just continues to stare blankly at the uneven, warping wood.

The blanket that he had thrown about his shoulders as he left the house, for the night is cold, he stretches out, and includes her in the swathe of fabric. His arms fit about her shoulders and he lets her lean into him.

Sometimes, they don't need words. He knows what woke her, and he knows that what she needs is someone to be there when she wakes up.

They adopt a cat together the same day it comes out that Elinor's pregnant again. Merida's going to be a sister.

She vents her frustrations about this as her fingers dance along the black feline's spine.

Ironically, they name him Toothless, for he enjoys making use of those strong, sharp teeth that line his gums.

"They say it migh' be twins! Can ye believe it? I'm never going ta ge' any peace when they arrive. I migh' aswell move in with you."

Hiccup's attention is directed at the cat, giving him something to chase while she speaks. It's best to let her frustration wear itself down in its own time.

For her birthday he fills her a sketch book with art of dragons, her dressed as a Scottish princess, bow in hand, scenery, flowers, everything he knows about her goes into that book. Its leather bound, the pages a thick, rich parchment that he vows to never draw on again.

As he watches her turn the pages, part of him wonders if she'll ever understand what she means to him.

On his birthday all she can do is sob over his unconscious form, plead with him to wake up. Sometimes she's too tired to do more than stare at the freckles on his nose; an hour later and she'll be bristling with fury, determined to go out and find those that did this to him. Some pathetic gang that thought it would be great to steal away a random kid from the streets and, after hours of who knows what, find humour in mutilating his leg so badly that it would be a danger to leave it attached to his body.

But she won't leave him.

She won't go after them because she knows he wouldn't want her to.

It infuriates her that he's so docile and sweet and refuses to react with violence, ever.

But she loves him for it.

It's his turn to have nightmares.

She stays with him for days, feeling more helpless than ever before as everything he is seems to slip away as he sleeps, fingers twitching and his body sometimes shaking. She can tell he's hurting, dreaming bad things even when he's still as he sleeps.

She misses two weeks of school for him.

When she returns the questions are ceaseless, despite 90% of the kids not even knowing their names. It's small enough for rumours to have flown. She bites her lip, sucks in a breath and denies every story she hears, because most of them entail freak accidents. None of them get it right.

None of them mention stuff worthy of the nightmares he suffers.

She's sent to the principal's office eight times in the two further weeks he takes to recover.

After he learns to walk all over again, Hiccup somehow seems to be more.

She's not sure what, but there's more to him that she finds herself wanting to learn, all over again.
He creates his own prosthetics after she spouts ideas at him. They were jokes at first – he learns to take jabs at his leg as a joke quite quickly – but he somehow turns her ideas into something practical and beautiful, and he gets to carry pieces of her with him where ever he goes that way.

"Ahm pretty sure she's lookin' at ye Hic." Merida nudges her friend's attention to a notably attractive girl, blonde hair concealing half her face. He merely shrugs it off.

"People are still curious about what happened."

Merida has to roll her eyes.

"Not in tha' way ye idiot." He continues to pick at his food, trying to find the one edible thing the school serves them. "Ah think 'er name's Astrid."

"Ohhh, we're playing that game." His eyes narrow at her teasingly. "In that case, you won't believe what I over-heard in the bathroom earlier."

"Girl's or boy's?" Merida teases him.

"Ha ha." He flicks a pea at her. "You've got your own band of admirers. Some important kid…something Macguffin and his other super important friends."

"Wha' was Macguffin doin' in the girl's bathroom?"

They experiment being with other people, but it never ends well. Astrid's a whole different kind of intense and her friends are, to be blunt, idiots.

Merida's new crowd fawns over her in a way that's entirely creepy. Hiccup thinks them unbearable. She thinks Hiccup's new friends too dangerous, thinks trouble follows them everywhere they go and she's sure at least two of them are permanently high.

He likes to take his time when he showers, the warm water and steam help him to think, if that's what he feels like doing, or they can clear his head.

He yelps and almost slips when the door slams open and the dwindling Scottish accent fills the room.

"Hiccup, just needed to let you know that we're babysitting the triplets tonight, mum and da' have some fancy pantsy party to go to and they'll be back late."

Before he can even respond or express his annoyance with her being comfortable enough to waltz in on his showers, she's gone again, the steam swirling with the ferocity of her exit.

He knows something is wrong.

It dawns on him rather suddenly just how awful his life would have been if Merida hadn't moved in next door. She greets him at the garage he works at with a ruffle of his hair. His smile grows, then fades as he slams the bonnet of the car down and slips into it to check the engine's running right.

"Is that my shirt?" His voice a mix of confusion, indignation and warmth.

She looks down to it, stares for a moment at the design then shrugs. "Ih' might be."

The car purrs under Hiccup's hands, his smile is one of proud satisfaction and he's sure that he catches the same one on Merida's face as she sneaks a mouthful of his coffee.

"So, what's the deal with you two?" Sometimes Astrid and her friend Fishlegs aren't too bad and they'll study together.

"Mer and I?" He's still distracted by the segregational laws of what was not that long ago. He's disgusted by it and his face becomes drawn.

A hand snaps the book shut to get his attention.

"Yes, you and Merida. Most of the school's convinced you're together, why'd you think our relationship caused a stir?"

Hiccup blinks.

"We had a relationship?" His words earn him a glare that makes him shrink in his seat "I didn't know" Fishlegs offers him a sympathetic look and Astrid's eyes roll.

"Okay, okay, jeeze, no need to kill me with your glaring." He's not sure he has an answer to that question. He doesn't even know what they are. He considers the word soul-mates but most people think that to be a romantic thing; Hiccup catches his heart in his throat and has to swallow it back down under the scrutiny of the two others.

"People want to know Hiccup." Fishlegs speaks with a low voice, as if it's some great secret.

"Why?" He knows the answer, but he stalls for time so that he can present his own.

"People are interested in you two and they can never get close enough without the other being in the way."

He snatches his book away from Astrid and tucks it beneath his shoulder.

"We're friends."

She's not seen him so relaxed in months and she's glad that she's the cause of it. His head sits on her folded legs, mouth hanging open slightly. Her fingers card through his hair, eyes tracing the contours of his face, appreciating everything about him, from the small scars that remain a constant reminder of what happened, to the stubble that recently started appearing.

She lingers on his lips, trying to remember if she had ever known what they tasted like.

It seems strange that after all these years they've never once bothered to try; but neither of them care for that.

She stretches her arm for the remote, turns down the sound of the movie and focuses her attention on toying with his locks, twisting little braids into it that bring a smile to her lips.

For a moment she thinks it's the sound of a car backfiring, never mind that they don't do that anymore. She hopes that the noise that wrenched her from her dream was just Toothless knocking something from a shelf, but the hollow pounding in her chest tells her otherwise.

Merida tears through the house, not caring for lights or decent clothing. She flings the front door open in time to catch a dark figure sprinting away from the Haddock's house, a bag bouncing against his back.

Her bare feet slam against the gravel and it sprays up behind her.

She can't lose him.

There's sobbing echoing the moment she steps into the hallway and her heart sinks for a moment.

She follows the sound, her parents finally arriving, moments behind her.

Relief floods her the moment she finds that Hiccup is the one sobbing. Then she's washed with a wave of guilt. Stoick's blood paints the wall and his large figure is still, unmoving in the darkness. She fumbles for a phone, hands trembling too much to hit the right buttons.

It's her mother that does the job, and Merida can only hold him as he unloads his grief.

The next week passes in a dull roar that he can't make heads or tails of, the only constant that anchors him to the world and brings any clarity is Merida's presence. She's gentle hands and fiery words when he needs them, she makes sure that people don't bother him unless it's essential. He's fed and comforted and hugged so much by people he doesn't know.

There are questions. So many questions that he doesn't have the answer to and he just doesn't care.

She and her parents fight tooth and nail for him, but they're not of blood. They won't let them care for him beyond the cacophonous week and a half in which investigations are made and they sort things out.

He doesn't have any other family to go to.

She's his family.

She just wants to be able to stay with him.

But they're sending him away when the shock's hanging over the two homes that were once a single entity.

She has to sneak into his room so many times to save things that she knows he wouldn't dare give up willingly.

She strips the room of so many books and journals and knick knacks that commemorated their entwined lives – a circle of daisies pressed and laminated, the pen set she bought him, an elaborate collar for Toothless.

Beneath his bed she catches sight of a small wooden sword. She curls her fingers about the pommel, nails digging into the wood. She grips it tight, a weight pressing on her chest, and she gives out to the tears for the boy she loves with every fibre of her body.

Two long, painful weeks pass by before she hears from him again. She scrambles at the sound of her phone vibrating, books discarded in a messy heap. An address, three towns away is all she gets and her heart sinks once more.

A day later she gets a little more.

{ 4:26 pm } These kids are nowhere near as fun as you.

{ 4:28 pm} I miss you

{4:30 pm } They're a bunch of assholes that could do with a beating from you.

All he wants any more is to hear her voice. Scattered texts aren't enough.

She sends them endlessly, he only wishes that he can send them out as often as she does.

It's a weekend when he wakes early enough to steal his phone back from the other kids that are larger and more influential than he and creeps outside, heart pounding in the hollow of his throat, mouth dry.

He hesitates.

It's still too early, he doesn't want to wake her….

He has to hear Merida's voice again, he's never gone so long without her.

"Hic?" she's bleary for a small moment "HICCUP!"

"Hello to you too." The world's right again

After a few months, it gets easier not hearing from him. She throws herself into school work, finds ways to keep herself occupied that don't involve a very specific brunet boy.

She gets herself a job, watches her grades rise and throws herself into forgetting about him as best she can.

…. But no one can forget him so easily.

Every week she finds things that she wants to tell him about,

the triplets did this,

mum and dad are fighting again and I need you Hic,

I've gotten so much better at archery.

Every heart beat aches for him, and she can't have him.

She hopes that the address is still the same, that he's getting her letters, even if he can't respond.

She hopes there's a reason.

He's only got two small bags to carry off the bus with him, but more than enough money to get him by. All of his dad's late nights added up to something.

Hiccup rents his own place, away from the dorms, but equally as cheap.

He prefers the isolation.

His bags are dumped, the door locked and he sprints to the college's main hall, milling with other first year students.

He's made it and all that he can wish for is his anchor, the one thing in the world that made sense.

She wonders how all of the other kids make it look so easy. It's only been a week and her eyes have grown unflattering dark circles and every part of her body aches. Yet they all seem to get on with this and have social lives. She can't even do one.

She's crabby by the time lunch rolls around, stalks away from campus to find a coffee shop where she's less likely to be bothered.

Ten minutes, three pages and half a cup of coffee pass by before a shadow covers the crisp pages of a new text book. She doesn't even lift her head before snapping "Yer' blocking me light."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I was just wondering if I could join you." Her head snaps up. "I'll just be going then."

"Hiccup!"

She flings the chair to the ground, caring little for the glares it earns her, and Merida leaps into his arms, which curl about her, tight and familiar, he rocks with her weight and they spin together, pure glee wrapped up in their laughter.

She can't even care that he's so much taller than her now, that he looks all grown up and at peace with the war on his body.

With her feet firmly on the ground, she finally does one thing she's been waiting to do for a long time.

"Where. The. Fuck. Were. You?" Each word is punctuated by a blow to the shoulder or his chest, and then she curls into him again.

He decides that their story isn't for the public to hear, and they save it for when they're safely within the walls of Hiccup's small home.

Part of her wants to insist that the year and a half apart never happened. They spent all of that time together and they're going to continue that way.

Part of him is still raw from the loss of his dad. She can see that.

Those green eyes of his that she's missed so desperately trickle over her half of the dorm room, mouth hanging open a slight amount. His lips are parted in disbelief.

"You…. You saved all of it?"

"Wot ah could manage to" She offers him a smile, makes a vague gesture at it all. "Ye can take sum of ih back if ye like?"

"How about I take all of it, and you?"

She's curious about what little he's managed to acquire out in the real world, creeps about the home two months into the semester, though it's not really necessary. He's at class and she's… supposed to be working on a paper, but everything's just so distracting.

She finds only two shirts that she remembers in his closet, in the kitchen, everything's a little too neat and proper to be his idea.

Under his bed, a fairly weighty box that she tugs out. There's no markings on it; nothing could ever indicate what it contains. She pries it open thinking there to just be some old sketches of his or photos of the two of them together.

Dear Merida Dear Merida Dear Merida

Dear Merida Dear Merida Dear Merida

Dear Merida Dear Merida Dear Merida

Dear Merida Dear Merida Dear Merida.

Envelopes cascade from the confines, some crumpled and balled, others crisp and never touched.

A lump rises in her throat and she feels that she shouldn't pry, but they're addressed to her, among the letters that she recognises as her own.

Dear Hiccup Dear Hiccup

Dear Hiccup Dear Hiccup

Dear Hiccup Dear Hiccup

He wrote to her as often as she wrote to him, but none of them were ever sent.

Eventually the words inside reveal why. She couldn't not look

He returns, bag hanging loosely from his shoulder to find her, legs splayed, paper coating the floor and envelopes tossed aside. Part of him swears she's been crying, but she insists otherwise.

When the door opens he's almost knocked to the floor by three red blurs that cling to his limbs and have Merida snorting with laughter.

"Boys," Elinor's voice rings from the top of the stairs, chastising and impatient, but she's smiling at him. Fergus wrenches the brunet into the home, and he's never felt more loved as the family crowds him for hugs and murmurs reassurances to him.

Hiccup laughs at the triplets as they bounce with bright eyes, cheeks rosy from the cold outside. They want the teens to take part in a snowball fight, and he can't help but agree when they pout at him.

As they wage war in the white sheet that fills the yard, they promise to each-other that they'll never separate again.

He pauses at the sight of the tree house from the next yard over, longs for the memories that fill it. Hiccup realises, with a jolt, that those who live there now, have no idea what it means to the two of them.

As he flourishes his name on the back of an assignment she pipes up

"The other kids have taken to calling us Mericcup."

They both laugh, Hiccup with a question in his voice. "Why?"

She's nonchalant, about it, but equally uncertain about how this came to be thing.

"Guess we're jus' one being now, or somethin'"

He laughs again.

"I guess it's actually kinda cute." She gives him a small smack of protest and leaves for class.

"Yer too nervous of it Hic, ye need to think about the bow as a defence rather than a weapon."

He bites his tongue to stop the argument that rises in his throat, and settles for taking a deep, steadying breath.

"It's just like one of yer saws or screwdrivers."

As much as he wills himself to think as she tells him to, his brain just doesn't work that way, and he becomes too frustrated with himself, at the hands that quiver and the arms that he can't position quite right.

Practiced hands trace over his body, shifting his position more gently than he knew her being capable of. He throws his shoulders back, feels the feathered tips tickle his cheek and something clicks into place.

"Trust the bow." She tells him.

They don't even have to discuss it. When they graduate, they return to Merida's home, they live together for a while and he slots into the family and there's no as if he's the missing piece. He's always belonged there.

"We've only been together for eight months, what about you two?"

They don't even have to look at each other, they both just grin, and Merida spouts the answer.

"Oh, just some twenty years."

"She's joking." He has to clarify, the couple they had befriended at the archery range are uncertain on how seriously to take the answer. There's a shrug and a roll of the eyes and he lifts an arrow from the quiver at their feet.

"We've never dated. Never thought about. But the 20 years isn't a lie."

Sometimes the nightmares still come. Even after six years, they claim him, and she'll awake to a trembling form pressed against her, back to back, and he's curled in on himself. He looks so small.

She wishes she could make them go away.

She was never specific about what it was that kept bringing her to him when they were 13 years old, what nightmares plagued her and now he wonders if they're the same ones when she thrashes against her covers and awakes with a terror in her eyes that glows in the blackness of their room.

Even though it's not the truth, they tell everyone they're flat-mates. It disperses the questions much easier than explaining that they love each other in an entirely non-romantic, non-sexual way. It makes it easier when she brings someone back from work and the three eat dinner together, Hiccup pretending to ignore the two playing footsies under the table.

She's all too comfortable with hanging out on the sofa with music blaring when he's exploring a body that's not Merida's in the next room.

No one ever says a thing about the unused bedroom.

She'll offer coffee to the girl in the morning, both padding through the kitchen in one of Hiccup's shirts and they chat happily.

He'll give the guy a ride home after lunch and the two will discuss the modifications to the car, the second party often impressed by his skill.

She gets into enough fights for the two of them, and kicks ass every time.

They laugh for nearly ten minutes when she tells him.

The girl that he brought home a week ago ended up in Merida's bed the night before. He's not sure why it's funny, but he's happy for her. The girl's a good person.

She accompanies them to the triplet's graduation a whole year later and none of them are quite sure whose date she is, but they don't care.

Except for when it comes to her parents. Then they pretend she's with Hiccup, and they welcome her with open arms.

"I DINNAE CARE WOT YE THINK MUM"

Her sudden shout takes him by surprise, he jolts from his work to look to where she stands, clutching the phone with white knuckles. On the sofa is a disturbed, greying Toothless, who looks to her with bright eyes.

She yells down the line for fifteen minutes, a string of curses in Gaelic coming out at one point.

He watches her wear down the floor with her pacing and she burns holes in her socks with the ferocity of it all.

It ends with a choked "screw you" and the phone beeps, flies across the room and slides down the wall.

She's in his arms instantly and he lets her wear herself out, brings her mumbling form to the sofa, and Toothless butts in, determined to be the one who makes her feel better. He nudges his head under her chin and mewls at her in his old cat voice.

Merida sniffs and laughs at his behaviour.

They order Chinese and sit on the floor while she vents a few hours later. The faint hum of a movie there to just be background noise hangs between them every time she pauses to take a breath.

Most people that they bring home, they end up sharing, in one way or another.

A relationship never makes it beyond two years.

They can never live up to the bond of life-long friendship, no matter how intensely the two love their third member.

"Mor'du, sit." A treat dangles above the lab's nose. "Ah said sit!" A hand motion accompanies her voice this time.

He replaces Toothless when the cat's gone.

The dog's stubborn and bright and loves to make them chase after him when they're not in the mood- but they love him.

By the time they reach their thirties, they've mapped each other's bodies a thousand times over.

He knows every speck of flesh that makes Merida shriek with laughter when he brushes his fingers across it.

She's mapped every freckle on his broad back, counted the ones on his nose as he's slept and named the two moles he's never noticed.

Hamish is the first of her brothers to get married.

Her parents ask questions and people continue to presume them a couple.

They've never kissed, and they're not going to.

He denies and explains with a polite, edged patience.

Merida scoffs, rolls her eyes and stomps away with a mutter about ignorance and stupidity.

They're old when the third brother gets married. Fergus can't make it to the wedding, and Hiccup fills in, a half and half role of brother and father. He makes a speech that ends with a trembling voice and tears in the Dunbroch family.

They both laugh and joke about the other's wrinkles.

He pokes at hers and she insists that she doesn't have any.

"They show that you've laughed a lot" He insists, grinning at her, mouth lopsided and her heart still soars at the sight of it, even now.

"And whose fault is that, Haddock?" Narrow eyes are accompanied by a teasing voice

Hiccup's eyebrows fly and he stares her down. "Yours for being nosy about the weird little boy next door."

"Och, I could ne'er know he would end up givin' me wrinkles."

He wonders where her accent goes sometimes, why it comes back on occasion.

It's got something to do with anger and truths.

She's looking for a long lost scarf when she finds her heart suddenly in her throat at the sight of a box, the vibrant blue long ago faded away. It's familiar and the air about it ripples with an intense nostalgia that demands her attention.

It pains her arms to reach so high up and she's sure she trembles with the effort, but it's done.

She sets it on the bed that she sinks into. The lid requires some prying and force before it falls away.

She's overwhelmed with a cacophonous wave of emotions and she can't put her finger on any of them.

Atop scattered envelopes she finds memories almost as old as she. Daisies, pressed and laminated, the first necklace charm he had ever made for her, the pen she gave him on the first birthday they celebrated together.

Merida's overwhelmed by her own existence and the immensity of their lives.

She's overcome by tears and struggles to breathe past the heart in her throat. She clenches, with trembling hands, crumpled paper from the top of the pile.

"Aunty Meri?" A fifteen year old with the hair she had once hoped for hung back at the doorway. Her eyes shone with concern and the old Scottish woman jumps, sniffs and responds with a glance.

"Sorry… Uncle Hiccup's being a bit aggressive again, keeps wondering what we've done with you and… He's been talking about hunting for trolls."

The nose of the child wrinkles and she lifts a pot that she shakes at the woman.

"I'm going to give him his meds okay?"