ONE

"DO YOU HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY TO ME, KANGAROO?"

"YEAH! YOUR HAIR'S IN MY FUCKING FACE, RED! GET IT OUT!"

Jack winces as he sees Aster and Merida stand in front of each other, arms crossed, Aster's face closed and sullen and just plain furious, and Merida's almost as red as her hair. Next to him, Hiccup swallows, and Rapunzel's eyes are wide.

"You had to invite when Aster at home, didn't you?" North asks, shaking her head, and glancing down at his younger foster son. Jack can only grin feebly.

"I didn't realise they'd end up like this," Jack protests, weakly.

North only shakes his head again, and leaves the room, shutting the door behind him. Jack has a feeling that he'll be going into his workshop, sighing to himself and building more of the strange, wonderful, crafty stuff that just about makes up the entire house.

"You are gonna settle this, aren't you?" Hiccup asks him, gesturing wildly over to where Merida and Aster are standing, still screaming in each other's faces. They are on the sofa, popcorn on the table, along with a stack of movies.

"They've only known each other for about three minutes," Rapunzel says, in a slightly-shocked voice.

"IF YOU'RE INSULTING MY HAIR – "

"WHAT ELSE WOULD I BE DOING? INSULTING YOUR ACCENT? IT'S SO THICK I CAN'T GET THROUGH IT!"

"OH, LIKE YOURS IS ANY BETTER!"

"GUYS!"

Aster's and Merida's faces both swing towards him, full of fury and anger, and despite having faced both of them at their worst, the sight of the two together is intimidating, and Jack swallows, before continuing: "Not arguing would be a very good idea."

"Stay out of it, Frost – "

"Hey, you can't talk to my friend like that, you overgrown kangaroo – "

"Did you just call me overgrown kangaroo, princess? Because I – "

"THAT'S IT!" Rapunzel shrieks, and Aster and Merida abruptly fall silent. "We are here to have a movie marathon! Aster, you either stay and watch with us, or go away! And Merida, you be quiet!"

They both stare at her, for a very long time.

"So," Hiccup says, nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt, "does that work for everyone?"

Aster asks: "Are you watching Iron Man?"

"Yes, yes we are." Jack isn't the kind who'll back down from a fight or an argument, but the tension between Aster and Merida is so clear he's wondering how any of them are still in the room.

"Then I'm staying," grunts Aster, and he sits in a lone armchair, near the side where Jack is sitting.

Merida doesn't say anything (for once! Jack thinks, in surprise) and instead plops herself down next to Rapunzel, scowling at the blank mega-huge TV screen.

"Well," Jack says, and presses PLAY.

Later that night, when Jack, Rapunzel and Hiccup are all asleep, Merida creeps into the massive kitchen and raids the fridge. She knows North has lots of sweet, sugary stuff in there, and Jack has told her to help herself (he knows about her and her relationship with food – it's a lot like his own relationship with anything edible.). It's three thirty am, so she's not expecting anyone to be up.

"If you want milk chocolate, it's on the second shelf."

She nearly lets out a shriek at the voice, but instead whirls around. Aster is there, rummaging through a cupboard and coming up with a box of cereal.

"What is your problem?" she hisses, furious, because how dare this stupid Australian jock sneak up on her like that?

"I was helping you find the chocolate, Red," he says. "Frost told me you're addicted to the stuff."

Merida eyes him suspiciously, and when she turns back to the fridge, she realises that there is milk chocolate on the second shelf. And it's Cadbury, too.

"Why'd he say anything?" she asks, suspiciously, drawing out the bar and shutting the fridge.

"He won't shut up about you three," Aster tells her, in that sullen, moody, grumpy voice; and in the faint light, she sees his face soften slightly. "You're good for him, you know."

"Um," she says, because she's really not sure how to respond; "Thanks, I think." She's never been good with people, not really. It's why Jack and Rapunzel and Hiccup are her only friends, and Hans, sort of. And maybe Elsa. (They tolerate each other – both have no patience for other people, but they can end up staying in the same room for a couple of hours without blowing something up.)

She thinks of them yelling at each other just now, how Jack, Punz, Hiccup and North had all looked on with some sort of horrified fascination. Her face burns. It's an instinctive reaction, for her, to react with a yell and a string of swear words when anyone says something mildly insulting about her hair. It's a touchy subject. And Aster hadn't helped much.

"I'm sorry," she offers. "About just now."

He looks at her, and then, quite suddenly, he smiles. A small smile, a faint one, but a smile nonetheless.

"Me too, Red," he says. "Shouldn't have made that remark about your hair."

"Shouldn't have made fun of your accent."

And now he is grinning, she is sure of it – "Well, I could say some pretty nasty things about your accent, myself."

"Don't want to wake up the whole place at three thirty," Merida says, warningly.

"Of course not," Aster says. "Wouldn't want your dulcet tones echoing throughout the house."

"Or your sweet, gentle voice."

They laugh then, and Merida feels – relaxed. Comfortable, even. Maybe Aster Bunnymund isn't so bad after all.

"Why are you eating cereal at three thirty am?" she decides to ask.

"Cereal's good for you," he says, through a mouth full of rainbow colours that crackle when he chomps down, and he points a spoon at her: "Are you a cereal hater?"

"Not hate, exactly," she says. "But I've never looked at cereal the same way ever since – "

"Since what?"

"Let's just say it involved a couple of birds, some pie, lots of duct tape, a trumpet, and a stiletto," she says, wincing as she remembers one of the triplets' many pranks and antics. Her mother had not been pleased.

"This I gotta hear," Aster says, and he slides into a seat at the kitchen table. "You mind getting me some milk?"

Merida makes a face at him, but pours it into his bowl of cereal, and pours a glass for herself. Then she slides into a seat: "Well, you should know I've got these three wee devils back at home – "

"You don't look like the artist type."

"Hey. You're not gonna tell anyone about that, got it?"

"Relax, Bunny, I know how to keep a secret." Merida laughs, then, and Aster smiles at her, and he figures maybe this crazy Scot isn't as bad as she seems.

TWO

She teaches him how to skateboard properly.

She's amazed to find that he's never tried to skateboard before ("That's Frost's thing, not mine"), so one day when she runs into him at the park, she makes him stay there for the next couple of hours as she teaches him properly.

"This is stupid and ridiculous," he informs her, as he sets off down the path, again.

"Don't be an idiot," she says. "You can't not know how to skateboard!"

"I've lived my whole life and I'm still okay – "

"You don't know what you're missing!" she insists. "Go on, do it again!"

He rolls his eyes, and he does it again, and again, and again, until she's happy.

She figures, as she makes her way home, the sky falling dark around her, that it wasn't such a bad way to spend an afternoon.

He teaches her how to play basketball properly.

She tells him she's not coordinated – she might be into running, and horse-riding, but she's terrible at sports like basketball and all that. He doesn't believe her, and tells her he thought she wasn't a coward.

"I can't believe you just called me that!"

And next thing he knows, he's drilling her, day in, day out, until she's good enough to be on the team – if she'd want to be.

He figures it's not such a bad way to spend his Saturdays.

It's not long before it becomes a routine.

THREE

Aster doesn't expect to see Merida when he opens the door. She's biting her lip, her hair's more in a mess than he's ever seen it, and her eyes look red.

"Red, what's wrong?"

He's not expecting her to turn her face away and shove her way inside, and he's definitely not expecting to hear sobs coming from her, because she's Merida and she doesn't cry.

"Can I stay here for a while?" she asks, quietly, not looking at him.

"Yeah, make yourself at home. There's milk chocolate in the fridge, I dunno where Jack is – "

"Doesn't matter," she mumbles. "I know where he is. He's not coming back here."

He looks at her, the two of them standing in the brightly-lit hallway, and he sees her standing with her head down and her arms around herself and he realises. And when he realises, he wants to pound the kid into the ground.

"You liked the arsehole," he says, in realisation.

She doesn't say a word, but he can see her shoulders shaking, and he doesn't know what to do because what's he supposed to do when a girl's crying in front of him about his foster brother? She's not really his friend, she's Jack's friend, even with the days they've spent together trying to teach each other how to skateboard and how to play basketball, and not even with the days she's spent trying to convince him to let her teach him horse-riding. (He's not that crazy, not just yet.)

So he scratches his head and leads her, gently, into the spare room he's converted into his workshop, the spare room he doesn't let anyone else use. (His bedroom's a mess, there's no way he's going to let her in there, and besides, she already knows that he paints, so he figures it's okay.) He sets her down on a stool, and leans, awkwardly, against a wall.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles, dragging a sleeve over her eyes. "I didn't know where to go. I figured he wouldn't come back here. Didn't want to go home just yet."

"Doesn't matter," he says, still awkward. "S' all right." He shifts, adjusts a couple of pots of paints on the table by him: "You wanna, uh, talk about it?"

She shrugs. "It's stupid. Just stupid. I mean, I just – you know, he likes Elsa – I've always known that – I just didn't know he would do anything about it or that she liked him too – oh, fuck, I'm sorry, Bunny, it's just stupid hormones – "

"Hey, we all have feelings," he says, and he clears off another stool and sits on it, next to her, because he understands how she feels – she's not the only one who's got her heart broken by someone unknowingly. "Never knew you liked the kid, though."

She smiles, a little, and he's glad. "I didn't, either," she admits, quietly. "Not until just now."

He doesn't want to ask her about what she saw, or what she heard, because he knows it'll make her more upset. Instead, he tells her how he used to have the biggest crush on Mavis Dracula – she nearly falls off her seat in shock – and how he found out that she was head over heels for Johnny the class clown, and he'd accidentally broken one of North's favourite mugs when he'd come home that day.

She smiles, at that, and he goes on, telling her about the hundreds of stupid stuff he's done (he's done quite a fair bit, mind you, even if he'd never admit it – but he can't stand seeing the wild redhead so upset and so down, so he decides he'll tell her, maybe just her), until she's chortling and chuckling and he's grinning widely.

He shows her a couple of his paintings, lots of them landscapes in spring time, because that's his favourite season. She likes them, she says, but then he catches her frowning in front of one.

"What?" he asks her, because he can see that she feels that something isn't quite right.

"Don't you think, you know, it's kinda empty?" she asks, waving a hand. "I mean, I'm no artist, but shouldn't there be some emotion, sometimes?"

He looks at the painting, and then back at her.

FOUR

"You want to do what?"

Merida is looking at Aster like he's lost his mind. He may have, just a little. He can't really believe he's standing in front of her, asking her this, but hey, it's spring break, and he's got nothing to do for the whole week, anyway.

"Can I paint you?" he repeats, patiently. "I mean, a portrait of you, mate. You were right, about my paintings."

"Why'd you want to paint me?" she asks him, bluntly. "There's Rapunzel, and Anna, and – "

"They don't have the right kind of emotion," he tells her.

"You're out of your mind," she tells him, but she punches him in the shoulder, so he knows she agrees.

It's Jack who finds them, in Aster's workshop, as the Australian teen orders her to sit still and to stop fidgeting.

"What are you doing?" he frowns, because he sees Merida sitting uncomfortably on a stool, and Aster behind a canvas with his paints around him. It strikes him, then, just how long it's been since he's seen Merida. He's hardly ever seen her since he went out with Elsa (which ended badly – they had been having fun at the ice rink, but dinner was a complete disaster. He supposes he's grateful that they've agreed to remain friends, and that things are back to normal.), and it's strange to see her in his house but not with him.

Aster notices Merida stiffen, slightly. She knows, just like how Aster and the whole school knows, that it didn't work out between Jack and Elsa, but he also knows how much it hurts because she knows that Jack won't ever feel that way about her.

"Painting," Aster says, shortly. "Don't you have something else to do?"

"Not really," Jack says. "Why're you painting Merida?"

He doesn't realise, until it's out of his mouth, just how it sounds, how bad and how mean. He sees her turn her head away slightly, sees Aster's lips press together tightly and his eyes flash, the way it always does when he's angry.

"Get out, Frost," he says, but Jack doesn't look his way.

"I'm sorry," he tells Merida, stepping forward: "I didn't mean it that way – "

For a moment, he wonders, when's she become so sensitive?

"Get out, Jack," she says, thickly, in her accent that it feels like he's haven't heard in forever, and he stops short. He looks at her, but she refuses to face him, and so he backs out the door, quietly, and shuts it behind him.

"You okay?" Aster asks, once Jack leaves.

"Yeah," Merida says, and he's glad to see that she's not crying, and that she doesn't look too upset. "Just, you know. Hard."

She laughs, then: "Sorry, you keep having to put up with my whining – "

"Nah, it's fine," he says, and really, it is. Because Merida's not that bad to hang out with, not really, and she's fun to hang out with, and while he does like spending time with the guys, like Flynn and Lightning and all that, he likes to spend time with her too. He likes to see her smile, and he likes to hear her laugh, and he likes to mess up her ridiculous hair and he likes to annoy her until she punches him hard –

He stops himself, short, there. Focus, Aster!

"You ready to get back to not messing up my painting?" he asks her, and he sees her grin.

"I must be the worst model alive," she tells him.

"Probably," he agrees, and laughs as he ducks the scrunched-up paper that's thrown his way.

FIVE

He doesn't know what he's doing, because this is really stupid and he doesn't even know if she still likes Jack and he is a complete idiot –

No, he tells himself. You ain't gonna chicken out now.

It's the Masquerade Ball – some stupid dance thing the school's come up with, he doesn't really care – and he's dressed simply, in black filled with lighter colours that remind him just a little bit of spring and of Easter (because he thinks he really needs some hope right now.). He's got a black mask, too, and he's standing in the corner with Flynn, who's waiting for Rapunzel.

"You still haven't told me who's this mysterious girl you want to go out with," Flynn tells him.

"You'll see her," mutters Aster, because of course Merida will come with Rapunzel, and Astrid and Mavis.

"You'd better point her out to me."

"You ain't gonna miss her, mate."

And when she comes, no one misses her.

Rapunzel looks fine, in a purple dress. Astrid, great, in some grey-blue thing. And Mavis is turning heads in her short black dress.

But when Merida comes in, all he can do is stand and stare, and his stomach feels a little empty and strange.

He can only think that she's stunning, in her glimmering blue-green dress that comes all the way to her ankles, her red hair flying out around her, her face half-covered in a mask the colour of her dress, beads along the edge.

"Well," says Flynn, "I can see who you're staring at, now."

Aster ignores him.

Rapunzel immediately goes over to Flynn, of course she does, and Astrid finds Hiccup and Mavis to Johnny, and he can already see Merida's face falling because she suddenly realises that she's got no one to be with, unless she finds someone like Sandy or Mater or Fiona or someone.

Aster takes a deep breath, steps out quickly in front of her.

She doesn't recognise him, for a moment, but then she blinks and says: "Aster?"

He grins at her: "The tone of surprise, eh, Red?"

"Didn't expect that you'd be here."

"Well, figured it'd be better than staying at home." He shrugs. "You wanna go walk in the garden or something?"

"Well, I'm not staying in here to dance," she says, and they walk out together through one of the many doors, in the garden that's been all lit up and decorated with glinting lights and lanterns.

"Jack got a date," she informs him, and he blinks at her.

"Who?"

"Sally Ferrera. Bet Lightning's mad."

Aster thinks of his friend, his blond hair streaked with red, and he thinks of how he's been scowling the whole week at everything and everyone, and nobody able to get out why. Lightning's been just a little in love with Sally for years.

"Are you?" Aster asks. "Mad, I mean?"

Merida shrugs. "I got over him," she says, easily, and suddenly Aster feels a hundred times lighter because she really just said that and it's not his imagination and she's really there, laughing, as she tells him about what an idiot she's realised Jack is and even though he's a great friend, she supposes he's not really boyfriend material.

He thinks he might be able to fly.

He doesn't know what he's supposed to say, now. He knows what he wants to say, but –

"D'you remember, when I first met you at Jack's house?" Merida asks, suddenly, and he can see her grinning from the corner of his eye. "That was a really bad yelling session."

"It was," he agrees. "Well, we grew out of it."

"I don't know. It was kind of fun."

"I did teach you about the magic of cereal."

"You know that just sounds stupid, right?"

"It's a fact, sheila."

She laughs, then: "You've never called me that before."

This is it, he tells himself. It's now or never.

He takes a deep breath, turns to step in front of her, to stop her along the pathway. She stops short, looking at him, slightly confused.

"I was wondering – " he begins, stammering, but then he remembers that this is Merida and everything will be okay because she is Merida, and he is not going to mess this up now, and his voice strengthens, "I wanted to tell you that – "

He looks into her eyes, wide and big and blue, and he loses it.

"Oh, fuck it," he mutters, and the next thing he knows he's got his arm around her waist and he's pulled her close and he's kissing her, and she tastes of chocolate and warmth and apples and somehow it's right.

When he finally lets her go, she looks at him, and he looks at her, and he doesn't know what to say.

She punches him, hard.

"What's that for?" he demands, backing away slightly.

"For not asking, you daft kangaroo," she says.

And this time she's the one dragging him closer to her, and he sees a spark in her eyes and a smile on her lips before he's lost again.