Chapter 3

Merida looked up from her packing, settling the few things she had taken from Dunbroch into the cloth bag she had been given for her ride home. Fox had explained that her saddlebags were full of gifts for her parents, a custom since her mother had sent one with the letter. The knock that had disturbed her packing came again.

"Come in," Merida called, setting the bag on her bed.

"Lady Merida," Sìleas called, stepping into the room with a fond smile, a small stack of cloth in her hands. A small silver necklace was nestled on the top of the stack, the emerald pendant struck Merida as very familiar. And with a startled huff she realized it was one of Queen Caena's trinkets.

The Queen had pulled her aside several times through out her stay in Moireach, friendly and kind. Merida sensed that she truly wanted a daughter to spend her days with, to teach all the female things to. For the sake of politeness and, admittedly, interest Merida had allowed herself to enjoy the hours Caena had spent teaching her the subtle art of speechmaking, the difficult twists of weaving, the simple pleasure of a good book and tea. In those moments Merida had felt heartsick for her own mother who tried so hard to get her interested in these things as well. It was a startling revelation for Merida, to realize how disrespectful she was towards her mother.

The morning after her conversation with the ghost of Lady Meadhbh Queen Caena and Sìleas had pulled her aside to speak about her mother's letter. The conversation had not begun well. Merida's blood still boiled from the indignation of her mother's reply about duty and understanding. It had not helped that Meadhbh's gift had been pounding through her skull all evening and had not softened in the light of day. She had felt at once both enlightened and befuddled. Eventually she did listen to them; however, and finally she began to understand.

Both women had spoken with her at length about the process and the politics involved with such an event. And though they did not judge her poorly for her actions they had shown her the errors of her ways. There was the possibility of war riding on her acceptance of the betrothal, though she loathed the thought of marriage to anyone at this point. Both women had eased the guilt she felt at leaving her parents to deal with what was, ultimately, her mistake and responsibility. Privately, Caena had agreed with Merida, insisting that she was too young for such a responsibility. But if it was the way of Dunbroch, then there was very little that Merida could do.

She did not fully comprehend her mother's point of view, but she could see a piece of it, and grudgingly accepted her role. She was responsible for more than her own life, whether by her choice or her parents she would fulfill her role. And she truly wanted to be worthy of her people's respect and loyalty. She was well liked in Dunbroch for sure, but was she worthy of their allegiance. And honestly, Merida did not think she was at the moment. Perhaps, if she worked for it, she could be.

"A few last minute offerings, my lady," Sìleas set the pile on the thick coverlet with a smile, her gentle face softening further.

"I am not sure I will be able to lift this when I am done," Merida grinned with a huff, her laughter barely stifled.

"Oh, I am sure it will not be a problem," Sìleas waved her away from the bag and began settling the cloth, dresses Merida could now identify, into the sack. "If you can not lift it, I shall simply call for Fox to carry it down,"

"I would imagine Fox has other duties to take care of than to carry my baggage,"

"Oh I doubt it, he is Prince Murchadh's man so he delegates most of the tasks the prince needs or wants done. If it is something vitally important, mayhap," Sìleas snorted with elegant distain, the end of her nose crinkling in distaste.

"You do not seem to like him much," Merida settled for folding up the few bits of clothing she had brought with her, along with the repaired formal dress.

"He is a knave and a scoundrel. Sets about with all manner of trouble brewing in his head, that one. Like as not to be counting his merits and never an eye to his sins."

"Oh," Merida let the rest of her little rant wash against deaf ears as she realized just how poorly Sìleas viewed Fox. She had assumed, quite wrongly apparently, that Fox was well liked for his charming wit and funny ripostes. Silently, however, Merida disagreed with the elder woman who had watched over her during her stay. Fox had always been kind and amiable, attentive in the way of a friend and never hinting towards anything more, and he had been there when she truly needed someone to pull her out of her own head after the skirmish in the country. Perhaps it was just that Sìleas did not see Fox's softer side, or maybe I just have yet to see his cruel side, Merida could not keep the thought from flickering into being for a moment. Nonsense, she told it firmly, Fox has been nothing but amiable to me for nearly two whole months I will not think ill of him when he has done nothing to earn it. And that was that.

"Well," Merida broke in when the elder woman paused to catch her breath, her grey brows drawn together in spite, "That is that, and I should be off before the sun rises any higher. The weather is still well enough to travel and if I miss today I may not have a chance to get home before the snows start."

And that was the truth, the autumn had gone by now, and the days were turning shorter and cooler. The skies filling with ever darkening clouds that threatened frigid rain, snow, and even hail, soon. Spending a month at Moireach had been pleasant, but Merida knew quite well how unwelcome it was to winter in another's castle. Cooped up behind thick stonewalls, barring her from the outdoors. Trapped and jailed like some kept bird, it was not her place to be holed away inside walls and Dunbroch knew that. Here they would be worried for her, with the raiders and bandits lurking in the cold winter darkness and the risk of blizzards and storms. Dunbroch would understand, partly, her desire for the air in her face and the land under her feet. She would not need to go too far, and she would take Angus, and maybe a guard now, but she would not be trapped inside and stifled.

It was strange how suddenly she yearned for her home again. For the Firefalls and the forest and the cattle. For her father, her brothers, even her mother. And she wished it would be faster, and at the same time slower. She loved Moireach, wild and new. Rich with story and character she had yet to learn, and maybe even the home of her first true friends, thinking of Murchadh and Fox. So it was with a warring heart that she took the steps down to the courtyard to find Angus tacked out and waiting for her patiently, two saddlebags packed to bulging. She smiled at him, and slid her pack onto her back before turning to the few people who had come out to see her off.

"Be careful, dearest," Queen Caena hugged her briefly with a watery smile before releasing her.

"I will,"

"I expect to see you again soon, my lady," Sìleas smiled warmly, affection clearly etched in every wrinkle of her kind face.

"As soon as is appropriate," Merida smiled, "With a proper invitation this time, I hope,"

"I fear we did not get through all the tapestry stories, or the carvings, Princess. But, I shall keep them for another visit, perhaps." Murchadh bowed formally before taking her hand with a gentle squeeze and a brief but sincere smile.

"I would be delighted," Merida grinned in return, "Or even in letters, if that is acceptable, though they will lack the weight of your voice."

"Until we meet again, fairest lady," Fox dipped into a ridiculously deep bow and a comical grin on his face. Merida laughed gaily at him, and with him.

"Until then, devil,"

And then it was time for Merida to depart. The sun, hidden discreetly behind sheets of purple-grey clouds was climbing higher as she stalled. Her heart still divided. She loved her home, and yet, she was beginning to love Moireach just the same. With a small shake of her head she mounted Angus and angled him towards the gates.

"I shall send word as soon as I am home again," She smiled down at them, only Murchadh was tall enough to look at without dropping her chin now.

"Then we shall wait eagerly," Murchadh, replied, his face grim but his eyes warm, and for some reason 'we' sounded much more like he was saying 'I'. Merida smiled one last time at them before nudging Angus forward and heading out the gates. She looked back only once at the bottom of the stone path, and found both Murchadh and Fox watching her leave. She waved back briefly, watching them raise hands to say a final goodbye, and then she nudged Angus once more and cantered down the rest of the path.

She only slowed Angus again when they were nearing the ring of standing stones. This time she dismounted before leading Angus through by his reigns, and though he pulled against her with reluctance, he did not pull from her hands entirely and run away.

The clearing was wider than most of the forest clearings she had been through before, thick green grass grew lush and beautiful with a few patches of wild flowers strewn through out it. The stones that ringed the clearing were huge, standing nearly as tall or taller than the ceiling of Dunbroch's great hall. It was a beautiful site, and this time Merida could enjoy the view as she walked through it. The air seemed thick with promise, mystical in the way Merida had imagined only the great legends had ever really felt before. This is important; her mind whispered quietly, this means something. But for the life of her she could not puzzle out what was so important about this clearing and it's odd stones, so she left, a relieved Clydesdale following behind her. The rest of her journey was simple, the path winding through the forest in lazy, unhurried turns and strides. When she came to the open fields that spread out beneath her like an open invitation, she grinned and nudged Angus into a gallop, charging through the fields and round the bend through a small section of woodlands and up the path into the heart of her castle and home.

The courtyard was quiet, though it bothered her none. She dismounted and settled Angus in the stables with a good grooming and some oats and water. Then she hitched the saddlebags over her free shoulder and entered the castle. She passed through a handful of servants who smiled at her with warm greetings, offering to take her bags or help her carry them. She let one of the ladies take her pack up to her room but insisted on carrying the saddlebags herself. The servants, knowing her well enough to just smile indulgently at her, pointed her to her father's study where the king and queen were speaking in private.

"All right Merida, you can do this," She muttered to herself and knocked on the thick door.

"Come in," Her father's voice answered her knock and with one last steadying breath Merida pushed open the door and entered.

"Merida!" Fergus was out of his chair almost immediately, with Elinor a few seconds behind him. He folded her into a bear hug, allowing her to breathe in the scent of sword polish and wood that always made her think of him.

"Father! Mother!" She answered the hug with one of her own, feeling her mother's hand settle on her shoulder and waiting for Fergus to release her. After hugging her mother as well she set the saddlebags on her fathers desk and sat in one of the empty chairs. They asked about her stay in Moireach, and about the King and his family. She found herself speaking at great length about the tournament and the dances, her tapestry, which was in her bag upstairs, about the four brothers and her new friends there. It seemed like hours until she ran out of things to talk about, even if she did include the horrible bandit attack. She did not tell them about her encounter with Meadhbh, however. That was more delicate and a little too personal for the moment; she just wanted to be happy to be back home without all the mess involved with the betrothal fiasco.

"It seems you had quite the adventure, lass," Fergus smiled at her warmly from behind his beard, "Dinner should be soon, so go ahead and unpack your things and get changed. We will meet you in the hall for dinner,"

"Alright," and with that Merida left her parents alone to get unpacked and cleaned up for dinner.

It was not until she had stowed the last of her things away that she realized she was missing her clan scarf. The little scrap of tartan that she carried with her in case of cold or an emergency (though she had yet to need it for the latter) was missing. She checked all of her belongings to see if it had gotten caught or mixed up with something else but it was nowhere to be found. After searching for nearly a quarter of an hour and coming up empty handed and late for supper, she gave up. She could always pick up another from the seamstress or the quartermaster later and it was not a big deal. Hamish, Hubert and Harris lost theirs every other week, and there were always spares for decorations or little accents to things.

Deciding to give it up as a loss, and more likely than not having left it back in her room at Moireach, she slipped down stairs for dinner and put it out of her mind.

"Do not ask me for anything again, you scoundrel," Sìleas snarled and shoved the little scrap of blue-green and grey fabric into his hands. Fox snatched the fabric with a wicked little grin and thanked the old woman even as she walked hurriedly away. Quite pleased with himself and incredibly smug at his contribution to this new plot, Fox sauntered towards Murchadh's large frame hovering at the gates. He was staring silently at the young princess' departing figure as she cantered down the path leading into the forest that bordered their lands.

"For you, My Lord," Fox held out the tartan plaid with his accomplished smile lingering upon his lips, "The young lady seems to have forgotten it,"

Murchadh's gaze flickered up, a pleased smirk curling the corners of his lips as he slid the fabric from Fox's hands and fingered the material, turning his gaze solemnly back towards the girl.

"Thank you, Fox," They watched her until she disappeared into the forest and beyond their sight before retiring to Murchadh's study.

"I thought it might be a nice touch," Fox flopped into his chair with a gracelessness that defied his nature, "I thought you might be able to stare longingly out of windows with it clutched gently in your hand, a poor imitation of the one thing you truly wish to hold,"

"Fox," Murchadh's brow twitched with subtle irritation, "It will be a useful affectation but refrain from romanticizing my actions, please,"

"As you wish," Fox beamed, pleased to have gained the acknowledgement of his acceptance to the idea.

Murchadh slid the scrap through his belt and tied it there, a reminder, of sorts, for 'himself' and others of his attachment to the departed young lady. He had submitted to the idea of his little act, not that unwillingly either. It would be simple to pull off by fiddling with the scarf during meetings while he was thinking in silence and staring towards the forest with a carefully constructed look of loss and longing on his face. Not as difficult as it could be, and one of the more useful subterfuge he would likely need for several years.

Perhaps one of the most useful aspects of this deception was the age discrepancy. Murchadh was not actually bothered by the seven-year difference, though he did think Merida was far too young for marriage. The gap in their ages, however, allowed for those gossips amongst the servants and the nobility to speculate however they wished to about why Murchadh kept his ardor to himself. Whether out of fear of rejection, a belief in her inability to see past his age or even her parents' refusal to wed their young daughter to an older man. Either way he could keep himself out of his mother's and the nobles' lists of eligible men and be free to do as he pleased with his spare time.

"We have work to do, Fox," Murchadh settled his thoughts back onto his work for the time being, pulling out his copy of the castle's treasury ledger. One of the many tasks he had taken up in his teens was keeping up on the state of the kingdom's coffers. Through no fault of his father's or the people, the man hired to keep records of the treasury had stolen nearly half of the kingdom's funds by the time Murchadh was twelve. At the time Murchadh had furious, and set the man up for a carefully planned 'accident'. The money was never found after the bastard's death and Murchadh had learned to cool his head before planning any form of revenge. The current treasurer was a member of Murchadh's own circle of supporters, and he kept both official and unofficial records of the Kingdom's coffers. Officially Moireach was well financed, unofficially, Murchadh needed to bolster their funds to support the expenses of running a full staff and holding the events that were necessary for the kingdom's face. It was frustrating how one man could practically cripple an entire kingdom through their wealth.

"The bandits who attacked us should bring in a small bounty from the High King at least, that should give us a little more cushion for the season," Fox muttered, still stinging from the horrible affair that idea had turned out to be.

"Yes, and we've sent out proper raiding parties for the rest of the group as well," Murchadh made a small notation in his books. "Taxes should be coming in as well this month, along with the census,"

"Caoimhe already volunteered to settle out the census results with Muireall," Fox offered, slipping the two women's note onto the desk with the little census coin. The women were lesser-known supporters of Murchadh's agenda, both preferring to remain in the background until they were needed for tasks. Caoimhe was apprenticed to the current quartermaster; she had a head for numbers and kept a strict watch on all her supplies. Muireall was Beathag's inventory keeper; her organization system for the castle's linens was intricate enough to confuse practically everyone but her. Surprisingly both women had become fast friends and comfortable enough with their jobs to actually assist each other in case of an emergency.

"Perfect, if you could organize a room for them to keep the paperwork until their finished with it all, Fox," Murchadh muttered, distracted by his accounting.

"Of course," Fox stood and left, knowing Murchadh would have mentioned it if he was needed for anything else at the moment. He would drop by after setting up a workroom for the women to arrange all the census papers in. With luck he would not be needed for the rest of the day and could see about working through the little bits of backlog that had gotten shuffled to the side during the princess' stay. Fortunately it was nothing overly important.

It was not to be, however. After settling the two women's new study, he had orders to deliver for the two small groups of bounty hunters who made it their job to track down bandits and raiders with an eye to which would fetch the most dead or alive. After delivering orders, Fox was hustled into a fierce battle of wills between the cook and the quartermaster over the state of the larder and the necessary preparations for the winter months on their horizon. And then it was time for supper and Fox was almost too mentally exhausted to eat let alone think about paperwork afterwards.

"Fox, if your not too busy this evening I will need to speak with you about our recent state of affairs," Murchadh mentioned in a fairly quiet whisper as they settled at the table. Murchadh had insisted, when they had first begun their partnership, that his manservant be allowed to dine with him as Murchadh had need of him at almost every other time of day and if Fox did not eat at the same time the poor man would never eat at all. Thankfully King Dùghlas and Queen Caena were not formal people and accepted Murchadh's needs as the young prince had already been overlooking parts of the castle's business at the time and they seemed to indulge his desire to understand the castle's management. Now it was common enough for them to even bring work to the table, though Queen Caena disliked paperwork mixed between the food, it was too distracting.

"And what is it your scheming today, big brother?" Teàrlaidh settled in place across from them with an air of perpetual boredom.

"My Lord never schemes," Fox sniffed in disdain, raising his nose with a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"He is always scheming," Niallghas slid in beside Teàrlaidh and began filling his plate with food.

"I was simply wondering if Fox had managed to pack all of the items into Princess Merida's saddlebags," Murchadh deflected casually, a small tick of frustration flashing briefly across his jaw.

"Of course, My Lord," Fox nodded with a smile, "Everything was settled as tradition dictates, though your letter might be a bit unconventional, I am sure the King and Queen will understand that she is far too young as yet, but the option is available either way,"

"Too young for what? What option?" Rodaidh piped in, his bright voice loud enough to ensure that most of the table was now focused on their conversation. Excellent. Fox slid his gaze quickly to Murchadh, catching the satisfied glint in his eye and the little twitch in the muscle of his neck that Fox knew meant he was pleased with this turn of events.

"The courting gifts which I prepared to tradition, with the letter to the King and Queen of Prince Murchadh's understanding that the Princess was of marriageable age according to Dunbroch ruling but still too young by Moireach law and his bid for her hand, though they would need to wait several years," Fox ended his explanation by turning to Murchadh, "I made sure the bow was included as well, I thought it a fitting statement that if she chose to wield it, it would be your betrothal gift to her,"

"Yes, the bow was a wonderful addition," Murchadh nodded in acceptance of his inclusion, though he had already approved the idea before Fox had packed up the gifts.

"Murchadh, did you really send them courting gifts?" King Dùghlas called over from slightly further down the table.

"Aye, Father. I spoke with the young lady during her stay here and her parents were very pushy about her betrothal. And out of all the young women I have been offered, she is the only one who stands out, there is just," Murchadh paused, a look of contemplation settling across his features, and a gentle warmth building in his usually cool gaze, "There is something startling about her, I can not really place it. She is… I can not find a word worthy enough of her," Murchadh settled his gaze off into the distance with a small sigh and brushed his hand against the scarf at his waist, if Fox did not know any better he would have said Murchadh looked love-struck. As it was, everyone else in the hall was swallowing the entire performance.

"Oh, Princess Merida is a marvelous young lady," Queen Caena beamed at them from her seat, her favor of the lady was quite well known which had also made Merida an excellent choice for this ruse. "Though she did say she was unready for marriage,"

"I know, it was one of the issues I addressed in my missive, I do not want her parents to force her into a match with me for political reasons or otherwise." Murchadh stared down at his food with a thoughtful look on his face, mixed with a bit of anxiety, his hand clutching the scarf tightly, "I wish for her to choose me willingly or not at all,"

"Why would the Princess choose you?" Teàrlaidh scoffed, his eyes lighting with a glimmer of disgusted anger, "She has better prospects than you, surely,"

"Teàrlaidh! Apologize; there was no call for that. Your brother is a wonderful man worthy of any woman he decides to love," the Queen snapped at her child with indignation. She dearly wanted her sons to marry, if for no other reason than to see them happily taken care of for when she would no longer be around.

"I apologize, brother," Teàrlaidh bit out, barely managing not to snarl, "That was uncalled for,"

"No," Murchadh sighed heavily, "You are most likely right. What could Merida ever hope to see in me, anyway? I apologize, Mother, I am not feeling very hungry right now. Please excuse me."

Murchadh stood hastily and made his way out of the hall, hand gripping the little blue and grey scarf as it flashed at his belt. Fox made to follow, sending a glare at Teàrlaidh for added effect before doggedly following his 'distressed' master. After dropping by the kitchens to grab two plates of food, he slid into Murchadh's study with a very pleased grin.

"That could not have gone better if we had scripted every line," Fox preened as he settled into his chair and placed the dishes on Murchadh's desk.

"Thank you, Fox," Murchadh dragged a plate towards himself and tucked in, "The ending was quite unexpected but just dramatic enough to be believable I think. And I got to paint that fool in a bad light, which is more than I am usually able to do." The scowl that crossed Murchadh's face was one Fox had learned to associate with Murchadh's opinions of his brothers. Unfortunately, Murchadh was correct. The three princes almost never came under suspicion for their poor behavior. And they had it in spades. Most of the kingdom thought the four of them were saints, Fox knew better.

Murchadh had been trying to set up his brothers' undoing for years, and it nearly never worked. Tonight was a rather marvelous step on that front, getting Teàrlaidh to snarl at Murchadh in public with that much venom was almost impossible; to have Murchadh walk away as the victim was a miracle. Teàraidh's image would be in ruins for days at least, months if they were lucky. Fox could not stop the devious little grin from perching on his lips if he had wanted to.

"Playing the victim was a genius move, acting like you believe you have absolutely no chance with her even though you have fallen for her. Perfect. It will take him a good long while to recover from this."

"It will not be long enough, that idiot can still recover. I need to crush him completely. His supporters are getting louder, and a few of the lords are warming up to him."

"We have some time. And I doubt most of the lords could be swayed from you," Fox relaxed in his chair, "You have been playing politics for far longer, and your reputation is solid with them. The fact that you are proposing to ally with a neighboring kingdom will win you favor as well."

"Yes, I have thought this through, I just have not acknowledged all the variables yet," Murchadh grimaced. "Teàrlaidh was very passionate, which does not bode well for us."

"I had not considered that," Fox winced, "If he is aiming for the princess as well he is bound to act rashly at some point."

"Oh, I have no doubt of that," Murchadh snorted disdainfully. "The child could not accept his losses, he will make moves against us if he truly wants her. Though I rather think he is more likely to use her and discard her like every other woman he has ever looked at. They are not worth his commitment, why would the princess be any different to him. He has not said two words to her together for most of her stay, and she tended to avoid him when ever she could,"

"That would be very bad for Moireach," Fox scowled down at his empty plate. "Despoiling their only daughter would not go over well with Dunbroch I am certain,"

"Then you will watch her," Murchadh decided, "We can not risk the alliance, not even for this courting charade. If she comes to true harm under out banner, by one of our own, we will likely not survive the failure. And I will not see my kingdom fall,"

Fox nodded his acceptance of the task, with a shudder of terror teasing his spine. The fire in Murchadh's eyes was very familiar. It was the same smoldering look he had presented to Fox when they had first settled into their dangerous partnership. When Murchadh had declared he would be king of Moireach with violence in his teeth and wordless threat in his stance. The same scorching look that had seen countless obstacles buried before they could threaten the sanctity of Moireach's heart. The look that promised and swore and never backed down from his words, that very look that settled upon him like his future crown. It was the very same look that convinced Fox that Murchadh would stand above mortals if he deemed it necessary to preserve his territory.

Merida had been avoiding this particular conversation for the past few days, and thankfully Elinor had let her get away with it. Today, however, seemed to be the end of that leniency. And as dreadful as Merida had imagined it to be, once she was sitting in her mother's rooms and sipping the warm cider Maudie had brought up, the tension was not as bad as she had feared.

"Merida," Her mother began with a slight sigh, "I need to apologize for my behavior the night you left. Throwing your bow into that fire was a horrible thing to do, I should never have done it. It was cruel and I have no excuses for my actions. But I am sorry I did that to you," And with that the Queen slid the charred wood onto the little table between them.

"I forgive you," Merida slouched in her chair, knowing her old bow would likely never shoot again. Her fingers stroked the wood anyway, remembering all the wonderful memories it had shared with her.

"Thank you, and I know it will never be the same but this was sent with you from Moireach. The letter accompanying the gifts says it is for you,"

Merida took the offered bow from her mother's hand with reverence. It was an older style recurve bow, made of dark stained yew with thin carvings along the limbs and a beautiful bear head carved into the grip.

"I wish they had given it to me in person, it is gorgeous," Merida slid her hands across the wood, admiring the beautiful craftsmanship and the sturdiness of the wood.

"I know you do not wish to discuss your betrothal, I still do not understand why but I am willing to listen to your arguments this time instead of forcing you to see the situation from my position," Elinor pulled her away from her admiration of the weapon and back to the reason they were sitting in the Queens rooms in the first place.

"Thank you," Merida flushed in embarrassment, still stinging lightly from the letter and now realizing how much was probably missing from it. "To be honest, when I got your letter I did not want to listen to your reasons. I thought you were going to force me back into the same position I was in when I fled and I was angry. And a little frightened, I suppose," Merida took a breath and tried to relax the tension out of her shoulders.

"I didn't mean to upset you, I was trying to show you my view in this whole thing," Elinor pinked, it was usually so easy to convey her meaning through words and the fact that she had failed so badly in this instant just highlighted how distant Merida and she had become.

"I know," Merida winced, "Queen Caena and Sìleas helped me understand a little bit about how important my actions are to the kingdom. And I guess I can deal with it. But, there is another reason I calmed down after reading your letter. I met a ghost."

"A what?" Elinor straightened in her seat, a shiver of fear curling down her spine.

"A ghost. Her name was Lady Meadhbh of Ruthven, and she died after refusing one of her suitors, he murdered her. She told me about how my words have a lot of weight as the princess. I do not understand everything she told me, but I think I am starting to see it, a bit. And I realize how terrible my actions were on the archery field. I will not apologize for them, because that battle was important to me, but I do understand that I should have handled the situation better.

"But, the reason I mentioned Meadhbh, was because she had a suggestion for me. Because I am not ready for marriage, Mother. And frankly, I do not think any of the lords' sons are ready yet either. We are still so young. I thought the idea had merit, and so I wanted to put it on the table as a possibility, perhaps?"

"Alright, I am listening Merida,"

"Time. I am not ready to be married, I have dreams and goals that I want to pursue before I think about marrying someone, someone who is worthy of my heart and my hand. I want to ask the lords for four years to either prove their sons worthy of my conditions or myself to prove my worth as a leader on my own. I know I can do this, I just need time."

"I see," Merida watched silently as Elinor sat in silence, her eyes turned inward in contemplation. "You may propose it to the lords when they arrive for the winter council in two weeks time, after you have written a suitable apology for the embarrassment they suffered at your hands and practiced it to my satisfaction. If they disagree it will be up to you to persuade them to your way of thinking, and if they refuse, then we will see."

"Thank you!" Merida launched out of her chair and thumped into her mother as quickly as she could, grasping the woman as tightly as she could in her excitement, "Thank you, thank you, thank you! I know I can do this!"

The two weeks before the council was much more difficult than she had thought it would be. Elinor was a taskmaster when it came to Merida's two speeches, reading little nuances out of each word she chose and urging Merida to change the timing or the structure. It was grueling, but at least her mother was attempting to help this time rather than just sideline her whole position. Eventually she settled her arguments into comprehensive statements and concise enough wording. And then the clan leaders were arriving and there was no more time for planning.

"My lords, you have been very understanding with us while we searched for our daughter," Elinor began, "As we learned over a month ago, Merida was found and hosted by a neighboring kingdom. When she returned to us, I spoke with her again on the matters of her betrothal and the tournament both. And she has decided to address you herself."

Merida stepped forward and turned to large table where the three lords, their advisors, their heirs, and her father were sitting waiting for them to speak before continuing with their meeting. She had dressed today in her nicest outfit, a simple dove-grey dress with soft pastel embroidery along the collar and sleeves. Over it was her thickest robe in soft green wool, tied around her waist with the little green sash to ward off the chill winter that had begun to seep into the castle despite the fires blazing in practically every room. Around her neck she wore Caena's necklace, the little jewel weighing against her breast to remind her that she was no longer alone in her opinion. Straightening her back with the resolve she had found in Moireach, she took a breath and began.

"My lords, first I must apologize to you and your sons for my terrible manners during the betrothal contest. I acted on my fear and anger without thinking of the consequences, and it was irrational and childish of me. I cannot take back my actions, and in honesty I do not want to. My actions were conceived of desperation and I only regret that they have caused strife through out our great kingdom.

"I have discussed with my mother, the queen, my thoughts on the subject of betrothal and marriage and she has agreed to let me propose my idea to you. I am not ready for any man to claim my hand, so I am asking you for time. I am asking you to allow me four years in which I may finish my training as the princess and grow into my own person. And at the end of those four years, if I have not found or chosen a man to marry then we may reconvene the tournament and the contestant who wins three out of five games may have my hand in marriage.

"I put the decision to you, my lords, and hope that you find this option as agreeable as my mother and I," Merida gave a polite nod and waited. It did not take long.

"That seems fair enough," the young Dingwall heir spoke up first.

"What?" Lord Dingwall turned to his son in shock, "But you won the tournament, she should be your wife by now,"

"I did not even want to compete," wee Dingwall crossed his arms sullenly, "You made me,"

"I have to agree with those two," young Macintosh nodded seriously, "This whole 'ancient traditions' thing is getting a bit old. MacGuffin and me were just talking about this too. It is not like we had any say in the matter either, and we want to be able to live a little before settling down,"

"You feel the same?" Lord MacGuffin raised a heavily furred brow at his son, and seemed to understand what the young man replied though the rest of the room was entirely lost.

"Four years then," Lord Macintosh squinted down at the little scroll of paper that Elinor had unrolled and set on the table.

"Aye, four years from the winter solstice," Merida nodded, "And then the next summer games, if I can not find a man worthy of me. Though I think your sons should be able to decide for themselves if they wish to compete or not," both MacGuffin and Dingwall boys shot her grateful looks at the added condition.

"Fine then," Dingwall threw up his hands in surrender, "Four years of freedom to do as you wish,"

The three lords signed the little contract and then the king. And after getting copies for their records, settled in to discus the rest of their business for the winter council. Elinor slid the contract to Merida and let her leave the room. Which was a good thing since Merida felt like she was flying. It had worked! She now had enough time to prove that she could be a responsible leader on her own without a husband and she could show them that a betrothal was unnecessary.

The floating feeling held for the rest of the three days of the winter council, she did not even mind when her mother told her to review the meeting notes taken by the scribe and make her own copy for future reference. She was too happy. And then she actually realized what task her mother had given her and dove into it with zeal. Her mother had finally allowed her to look at the kingdom's issues without Merida having to beg for them. This was progress, and Merida was more than happy to look through the information of the patrol schedules, the tax collection, the census even the odd little not from one of their port villages about the weather turning odd. She was getting into the practical work of running the kingdom, at last.

Six days after the winter council, the snow began to fall as winter slipped over the land. The days grew short, the wind icy, and the nights long and bleak. For the first time in her life though, Merida did not feel trapped by the snow that kept all of Dunbroch prisoner inside the castle walls. She took to her lessons and asked her mother useful questions and began looking into the castle expenses and the larder inventory, even the list of servants and the staff's request for help. It was a slow process, and she was not perfect at it, but she did learn and she got better with every passing week. And soon enough it was spring again.

AN: Apologies for the issues with the previous upload!