Author's Note: A request fic for RadiantBeam; it's not really up to her level of quality (romance is not my forte) but I'm hoping she likes it.

Proper Posture

(*)

"Da, hurry!" Merida most enthusiastically did not squeal, because she was a warrior in her own right and a proud member of Clan DunBroch, and therefore she did not squeal over the mere thought of visiting another kingdom. And she also wasn't halfway jumping out of her skin from two weeks cooped up on a ship and desperate to just jump into the water and swim the rest of the way to the docks of Port Arendelle.

"Well, it's jus' that technically speakin' we are not so much docked yet, lass, an'..."

"A coward's excuse! Th' water holds nae fear fer me!" she declared with a grin.

"Nor fer yer da'... providin' he doesna have to swim in it, o' course. Na that he can't," her father informed her firmly. "Ah'm just sayin', wee one, tha' a mite bit of day-cor-oom would be appreciated here."

"An' when did the king of Scotland become a shrinkin' violet, then?"

An icy female voice said, from the depths of the cabin, "Ah-hem." Not even a real word, but it held the weight of a landslide.

King Fergus, strongest warrior in Scotland and king of the realm, winced and paled. "Since yer mum can hear ye, now."

Merida sighed and winced a bit herself. She and her mother had a very good relationship since the bear incident, for the most part. Oh, Merida would always be too spirited for her tastes, and Elinor would always be too stuff for Merida's, but they could at least recognize that the other had a point, and even sometimes reach a compromise.

For instance, when the king and queen had been invited to the opening of the gates at the northern kingdom of Arendelle, a notoriously secluded land which was opening up for the first time in years for the crowning of their new queen, Elinor had compromised that Merida would be allowed to attend. As Merida had never been outside of Scotland and been away from castle DunBroch precious little, this was a glorious opportunity and one she could never possibly turn down.

And in Merida's half of the compromise, she had to be... ugh... a lady for the duration of their stay. It was a torturous price indeed, but she had promised.

Queen Elinor, effortlessly exuding the grace that Merida had to practically kill herself to put on, strode out of the ship's cabin as through she was not on the deck of a ship in the middle of an icy sea. She arched an eyebrow at her daughter practically hanging off the side of the vessel and said, "Merida."

Once again, a single utterance hit like a boulder. "Technically," Merida said, a hopeful smile on her face, "we havena arrived yet, an' so our stay hasna started. And so, what with na havin' arrived, I dinnae have yet to be quite so much a lady as of yet...?"

Elinor sighed, but smiled slightly. "And you became a lawyer, when?"

"Och, mum, there's nae need to be insulting."

"Go belowdecks and get into your gown, girl," Elinor said, kindly but firmly. "Fine words or no, we are late, dear. We'll be needing to make a fine first impression to make up for it."

"If the Arendellers..." Fergus began.

"Arendellese."

"... Righ', them," the king declared, "canna be acceptin' a wee bit o' tardiness in the event o' the giant bloody blizzard that came out of the summer sky an' nearly killed us all, I'd be rethinkin' getting to know 'em anyway!"

"Fergus."

"Besides, it's such a wee small silly country anyway."

"Fergus."

"An' tae be honest, I think we were mostly late on account a' nobody knowin' where it is. Ah swear we passed Norway twice, an' a Viking was mos' definitely givin' me a dirty look. I woulda punched him, if I was nae tryin' ta be diplomatical."

"FERGUS."

"... an as king, ah've made a royal decision tae stop talkin' now."

Merida sighed and descended belowdecks to switch into some clothing that was more 'presentable,' as the crew started lashing the ship to the docks. There was no use arguing with mum when she used that tone, and while Merida didn't often agree with her, she could at least see the value of not landing in Arendelle soaking wet and looking like a mountain climber.

Hopefully the dress would fit this time.

… Er, not that she was planning to need to be doing any archery during the visit, of course, but one never knew.

(*)

Queen Elsa.

Ugh, it still sounded odd to her.

It wasn't that she didn't want to be queen. Well, she didn't, but not because she had any particular problem with the queenness of it all. It was that she really didn't think she should be queen. There had been the whole thing with freezing the entire kingdom (not for long!) and the entire thing with both the Duke of Weselton and the prince of the Summer Isles trying to kill her with varying degrees of competence. After these events and the resulting political fallout, she had been kind of expecting (hoping?) that the people would tell her "Thank you Elsa, but after the mess you've made of your first week crowned, you can please retire to a cottage somewhere nice and cozy while your sister takes over the hard parts of being royalty."

But the people, for some reason, adored her. She had come perilously close to destroying their kingdom and starting two wars in her first week as queen, and for some reason they thought she was great. Yes she could see the appeal of the year-round ice-skating rink, but not so much that it involved leaving her in charge!

Again, it must be stressed that she was not unhappy with this end result, per se, particularly since it did not involve any sort of burning her at the stake at all. And well, Weselton didn't seem to be the best neighbor anyway, and the Lord of the Summer Isles had basically been bending over backwards to apologize for his horrible monster of a son. And Anna seemed happy with her new boy, and had known him nearly two weeks now without marrying him! So things were going very well, really.

It was just weird, was all. She didn't want to be burned at the stake, but on some level she was a little shocked that people were making her queen instead of trying.

"Your highness, the delegation from Scotland has arrived. Are you prepared?" the chancellor said, knocking on her door.

She had been prepared for an hour. One thing she'd picked up rather quickly about Queening was that the surest way to have some time to yourself was to ready yourself ahead of time, and being able to spontaneously generate her own dresses helped a lot.

Putting on her best royal smile, she said, "Of course. We are eager to welcome visitors to our fair land, as ever."

Particularly if our second attempt at a coronation banquet still has the chocolate buffet.

(*)

The Scottish were weird, Elsa decided very quickly.

The woman who could only have been Queen Elinor carried herself with a perfectly natural, serene grace that made Elsa feel like she had somehow done something wrong despite the fact she hadn't done anything other than sit on her throne to greet the new arrivals, though the warm smile she gave when curtsying to greet her fellow queen suggested that this was not something she did on purpose. The daughter (Mary-something...) forgot to curtsy until her mother elbowed her in the side and seemed to be having trouble getting comfortable in her dress. Some effort had been made into slicking down her hair, which appeared to have about as much effect as trying to kill a wolf with a fluffy pillow. It wasn't hair, it was a mane. There was no other word.

And then King Fergus had walked in behind them, carrying their luggage and their servant's luggage, and she had come to understand what she was truly dealing with here.

"Yer majesty! Greetin's tae ye, on the day o' yer coronation!" he roared, or maybe his voice just naturally sounded like shouting. "Well, na precisely th' day, on account of there bein' quite a storm, b' close enough. As chief of Clan DunBroch and High King of Scotland, I, Fergus, do greet ye and wish ye well!"

Elsa smiled politely and said, "Of course, and greetings to you as well, your majesty. I..."

"An' now that we're done with the silly part, come down off that chair and greet th' family, lass!" he shouted with a giant smile, cheerfully stomping up to her throne and tugging her off it like she weighed nothing. Her guards attempted to stop him; he did not appear to notice.

"Eeep!"

"Fergus. Decorum," his wife muttered, blushing furiously, as the younger girl giggled behind her raised hands.

"Ah, now, love, she's just a wee bairn! Barely older than Merida, if I'm a judge!" Fergus declared, tousling Elsa's hair and somehow not starting an international incident through sheer force of niceness. "Lass like her dinnae want ta stand on ceremony and flounce about wavin' her royal scepter aboot! Girl so young, she clearrrrly misses out on just bein' a free young lass. Look how happy she is!"

Merida tried without much success to disguise her laughter. "Da', she's terrified. She's no way of knowin' ye only look like a bear."

"Fergus. You are. Manhandling. The queen," Elinor said, biting off each syllable.

"Och, only a bit an' she's such a tiny thing..." he said, apparently only now realizing he had one Arendelle guard hanging off each leg (even the peg one, which Elsa found a bit sad; this man's fake leg was stronger than her real guard). "Lads, what are ye doin' down there? Yer gonna embarrass yerselves if'n ye dinnae get off the floor."

It was then, as the room fell into absolute silence, that a small, animated snowman with a cloud over his head walked into the room, likewise ignoring the guards who tried and failed to lift pick him up, and said, "Hi Elsa! Hi new woman! Hi bear! Hi girl with head on fire!" Then, with no further words and the same slightly vacant grin on his little snowy face, he walked out the same way he'd come.

"Oh, dear. Magic again?" Elinor muttered.

Merida patted her mother on the back. "At least it was'na a bear this time."

Elsa couldn't help herself. She burst into laughter, the giggles flowing helplessly. The scene was just so... so very wrong, it became right. This huge bear of a man holding her slightly off the floor, her guards flouncing about uselessly, the visitors reacting to Olaf as though he was an everyday occurrence, it was all just too much. And so she laughed, laughed longer and louder than she had since she was a little girl.

Merida grinned. "I like her. She's a fun one."

"Th-thank you. I... this is a bit odd, but I can't... hehehehehehe!" Elsa said, doubling over in giggles once again. "L-let's try this again. I am... Elsa. P-pleased to meet you all."

"Merida! I cannae wait to look around yer castle for more witchcraft an' snow spirits an' the sort. An' have ye an archery range?" the girl said enthusiastically, clasping Elsa's hand like they were old friends. Then, with a placating glance at her clearly distraught mother, she added, "Nae that I plan to do any archery, mind ye. Very classy, this visit is."

Elsa smiled despite herself. "No worries, princess Merida. I rarely get the chance to avoid it, but in general I prefer not to stand on ceremony."

"A lass after me own heart!" Merida cheered, stepping out of her high-heeled shoes and rubbing her feet. "Och, tha's better. Jus' fer savin' me from those torture machines, I'll teach ye a bit a' the bow while I'm here! An even trade."

"A fine plan, lass! None 're better with the arrow than me wee one, lassie," Fergus crowed in approval. "An' frankly, ye could use the time outdoors. Verra pale. Mus' get ye some sun."

"I'm having a nightmare, then?" Elinor murmured helpessly.

(*)

The banquet was lovely and stuffy and boring and tedious and they had no decent sausages and Merida would have killed to get out of there.

It was not entirely her fault she was restless, either. Her mother had insisted upon the return of those devilish shoes, and they were in every way worse than the dress she'd been forced into on the day ma and da had tried to marry her off. She would have worn that tight, nasty thing every day for a year if it meant a chance to burn the horrors on her feet.

She was told they were all the fashion in this part of the world. Women in this part of the world had her pity.

Still, Elsa (and it felt a bit weird to think of her as queen Elsa, on account of her being, as father had said, a slip of a girl barely a year older than Merida. She didn't think of herself as 'Princess Merida', why think of a girl she could probably put in a headlock as a queen?) made it look good. She walked in those shoes without discomfort or falling on her face, and that gown without stepping on her own cloak, and overall managed to look actually elegant and poised despite being the same age as Merida, who felt like a lumbering clod in an outfit far less ornate.

Maybe she really was a witch. Making those clothes work clearly needed some magic, and nobody had quite explained the talking snowman to her yet. She itched to snoop about a bit, but Elinor had her on a leash since the throne room 'fiasco.' And in fairness, in Merida's opinion it had not been a fiasco. Merida had caused real fiascoes, she knew what one looked like, and besides she hadn't done the snowman.

But sadly, Elinor would hear none of it and had clamped onto her daughter like a vise. They stood in the corner of the room, near the table of food that had too much fish and way too many oddly sweet things, and said "Hullo" to people Merida firmly expected she would never see again, over. And over. And over.

She had promised mum, she really had, but she had limits.

"Ma," she said slyly, a wicked glint in her eyes, "Da's found the wine."

"A fine try, Merida, but your father knows better," Elinor said firmly. "You will stay here, where I can see you, and..."

"A song, boys!" her father's roaring came from across the room, "Tell me ye know the one abou' me great victory over the Viking hordes at DunBroch plains? Ye don't?! Well no worries, I'll teach ye. Get me a set o' bagpipes... … ye have none? Does this kingdom ha' no art?!"

Elinor muttered something that sounded suspiciously, to Merida, like, "Bloody Hell" before turning to her daughter and saying, in the air of a woman heading toward water in the desert that she knows is a mirage, "Stay here."

"O' course," Merida said gleefully.

She was out the window before Elinor made it halfway across the hall.

(*)

Elsa watched the girl climb out the window and suppressed both a chuckle and a small flash of envy.

Merida fascinated her, she had to admit. The girl was nothing like what she'd come to expect of royalty, nor what she herself had been raised to be. Even Anna, as free-spirited as she was, was not nearly so fiery... and more to the point, Anna loved the formality, the balls, the high romance and pomp. She was currently roaming the ballroom, Kristoff in tow, socializing like a tiny, friendly comet; she slammed into a new conversation at a million miles per hour, destroyed it with raw enthusiasm, and moved on to a new collision, 100% convinced she was graceful and sophisticated in doing so.

Elsa had been subtly directing the crowd all night to keep her away from Fergus. The last thing she needed was for Anna to discover drinking songs.

Merida, on the other hand, looked like she would be more at home in some forest, riding along on horseback with that gigantic hair flowing in the wind. The very idea of being in formal wear seemed to chafe at her on some primal level. The second she was not doing what she felt she should be doing, she became obviously uncomfortable.

Elsa appreciated freedom, the end result of a childhood locked away both physically and emotionally. She enjoyed being able to do what she wanted to do. But Merida... Merida seemed to thrive on it. As if the very concept of being locked away meant death to her.

It was odd. She'd wanted to talk more with the girl, compare stories, find out if maybe she'd found a kindred spirit in the unlikeliest of places, but Queen Elinor had clamped down hard, and now Merida had flown the coop, so to speak. Elsa was disappointed, but there wasn't much to be done about...

Hm.

Hmmmmm.

This is a terrible idea, she thought, a smirk rising unbidden to her lips as she strode out onto the ballroom floor in search of her sister, who had abandoned socializing to join in the dancing and wear Kristoff's legs out.

"Master of Ice," she intoned, amusement dancing below her words, "May I borrow the crown princess for a moment?"

"Please..." Kristoff muttered, falling out of his girlfriend's grip to lean against a nearby pillar, wiping sweat from his face.

"But this is only our seventeenth dance of the night!" Anna protested, pouting visibly. Elsa fought to keep her grin hidden.

"It will only take a second," Elsa promised. "Just... follow me outside for a bit."

Five minutes later...

"This is not gonna work, Elsa."

"Shhhh."

"They're gonna notice! You're like... a foot taller than me!"

"It's not that much."

"And you got the good leg genes. You got mom's legs. I hate you, by the way."

"Your legs are fine. Kristoff likes your legs."

"He also likes ice. In that way."

"You're just being silly. Now go in there and do me proud."

"You still haven't told me what this is about..."

"Anna. Royal command. Do your duty, princess."

"... Fine," Anna muttered, straightening out her icy blue gown. She stepped into the ballroom, pressed her now-snowy white hair behind her head, and said, "People of Arendelle! Your prin—queen has... returned! And by queen, I mean me! Because I'm her! Elsa, I mean! Her is Elsa! Not Anna! You may kneel!"

It was a bad plan, Elsa knew. But it was good enough.

Smiling widely, she lifted up her skirt and ran off, feeling for all the world like a child playing hooky. It was a good feeling.

(*)

Merida tilted open the door, looking in, and smiled.

Finally, she thought, grinning wickedly, her horrible shoes clasped in her hands. She couldn't afford to be out here too long, of course, but she had needed the break and there was really no better place to take it than...

"I thought you would be out here."

Merida squeaked in dismay, half jumping out of her skin as she whirled on the sudden interruption. "Y-yer Majesty! I... well. I ha' a great explanation fer this. Y'see, I was just goin' about looking, as it was, fer a... a... well I... was a wee bit warm and so was thinkin' perhaps I would go about findin' yer wee snow beastie an'..."

"Olaf tends to be a bit of a wanderer," Elsa said with a grin, stepping over to the walls of the royal guard's archery range and patting one of the bows. "But he rarely comes to the archery range. Drawing the bows takes his arms off, you see."

Merida giggled despite herself, the informal words oddly incongruous with the elegant lady in blue, shimmering in the moonlight flowing in through the windows. It was like a Will O' the Wisp had stopped to tell her a knock-knock joke. "Well. I expect nae many folks come here at this hour anyway."

"It is traditionally closed," Elsa agreed, picking up a piece of flint from a shelf and lighting one of the torches. "However, since you are a guest, I thought it might be all right to overlook the usual operating hours."

Merida giggled again, breaking into her best flourish-y bow. "Well, since milady doth find it to be suiting."

Elsa's answering laugh was musical. "I believe that a lady should curtsy. Unless you want to be a knight in shining armor?"

"T'would suit me better," Merida agreed with a grin, pushing a stray lock behind her ear. "But come. Ye clearly wanted a break fr' all the fancy curtsies and silly fishes abou' the ball as much as I."

"Not really," Elsa said. "I like parties, in fact. I never got to have many growing up. But I found myself wanting to talk to you a bit more. I'm not sure why."

"Me natural charms?" Merida asked impishly. "Though if that be the case, please tell me mum because she swears I ha' none."

Elsa smiled a bit sadly. "I think it was... how free you seemed. I... well. It's a long story, but since I was a little girl, I've spent most of my life... very controlled. Very reserved. I'm still growing out of it, in some ways, especially because... well. When I tried to throw it off completely, it was a disaster," she sighed. "I think it fascinated me to see you. Someone who was managing to be... free-spirited, but controlled. Happy and wild all at once. I confess, on some level I was wondering if it was possible to find a balance. I guess you could call yourself a star of hope for me."

Merida blushed furiously. "Well. Erm. It's nae special."

"I disagree," Elsa said firmly. "You're a very impressive girl, Merida.

"Nae, just... tha' is ta say... it took me some time tae come to peace with things, an'... well ye might say I had a disaster o' me own... r' two..."

"Trust me. Mine was worse."

"Well, I mean... t'was a magical disaster, if ye ken..."

"Trust me," Elsa said firmly, raising the girl's face to look her in the eyes, smiling wryly. "Mine was worse."

(*)

Anna looked up. And up.

And up.

"Ye..." Fergus said, "seem different, lass."

"Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeek."

"Och, none o' that, now! 'S a party!" Fergus shouted. "Och, I know! Yer gift!"

"My what now?"

"Fer the coronation! Only proper tae get the lassie a gift," he said with a wink. He then drew his sword and stabbed it into the floor at her feet.

"EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEK!"

"Fine Scottish steel, that be," Fergus said proudly. "I meself used it when the Saxons landed, tae slice the head from their general with a single mighty blow!"

"Fergus," Elinor said, rubbing her temples. "We talked about this. The gift was to be a locket."

"... but tha' was so boring."

(*)

"The whole kingdom?" Merida asked, wide-eyed.

"And most of the surrounding countryside," Elsa said sadly.

"An' I though' turning me ma into a bear was bad..."

"It is, to be fair. Just... not as bad..."

"Nae, I... I find meself agreein'."

"I wish it wasn't so easy."

"Well, look on the brigh' side!" Merida declared. "Ye fixed it, did ye not? And now yer a witch!"

"I... that's good?"

"Aye! Witches be very respected in me homeland," Merida said proudly. "They stand outside o' fate, and can change it fer others. You've a gift. Jus' because it took ye some time to work out the workin' outs does'na mean otherwise."

Elsa smiled. "You... you are a bit unusual. I was kind of expecting you to be more... scared? I mean, people got used to it quickly once summer started up again, but... they're not strangers. Strangers usually take it a little worse"

"Och, scared of a lil' magic? Dinnae be silly. B'sides, a fine lass like ye'd no hurt her knight in shinin' armor," Merida said dismissively. "If any be frightened of ye, let me know. I'll plant an arrow in their bum quick as ye blink."

Elsa blinked a few times, before falling over once again in helpless laughter. "Oh... oh... hehehehehee! Oh, you are... hahahahaha!"

Merida waggled her eyebrows. "Aye, I be a special one. But enough o' talkin', I believe we have some pressing business."

"Back to the ball?"

"Uuuuuuuuugh, nay! Yer archery lesson!" the redhead chided. "Pick a bow! A small one, on account o' yer slender arms."

"... I thought you were joking about that."

"Ah never joke about archery. Pick a bow!"

Elsa rolled her eyes helplessly, grabbing the smallest bow off the wall. "Okay. What now?"

"... Traditionally, grabbing an arrow would also be a good start," Merida said dryly.

"Teachers should be more patient," Elsa said primly, picking up a quiver. It was heavier than it looked. She took that to be a bad sign.

"Now," Merida said, taking up position directly behind Elsa for safety, "show me what ye already know."

Elsa nodded, took a deep breath, and nocked an arrow. Taking careful aim, she let fly with all her skill and grace.

It went almost straight left, traveling about five feet, and clattered to the ground.

"... … … this is nae gonna be a simple one," Merida said bluntly. She walked over and matter-of-factly put her hands firmly on Elsa's hips.

"Eep!" the queen said with royal dignity, leaping back. "What was that?!"

"Tha' was correctin' your posture, which was a mess."

"You can't just... that is... you mean... I...!"

Ignoring her, Merida stepped forward and leaned down, adjusting the position of Elsa's leg. "Here, put one leg off slightly to yer side, like this..."

Her bare leg. Hands on her bare leg.

"Yer back needs tae be straight, and you'll breathe in, chest up..." Merida said, continuing to pose Elsa like she was a doll and ignoring exactly where she was doing so.

"Not! The point!" Elsa snapped, blushing furiously. "I mean there's... you can't just... it isn't done."

"What are ye goin' on about?" Merida said in frustration as her careful work was once again ruined by Elsa acting like her hands were made of hot coals.

"This is... extremely improper."

"Aren't ye the one goin' on about freedom an' the like?"

"To a degree!" Elsa muttered, breaking eye contact. "But... too much is not good either, and that was... too much."

"It was archery lessons."

"It was... hands on... skin."

Merida paused, unsure of what to make of this for several long seconds, before her eyes widened. "OH."

"Yes. Oh."

"But..."

"No buts. Especially not mine."

Merida planted her hands on her hips. "Ye are just bein' silly now."

"No! No I am not! I had to wear gloves until I was eighteen! You can't just grope me and expect me to tolerate it!"

"I was'nae gropin' anyone! I was correctin' your posture!"

"Oooh, you were correcting something."

"I am nae sure I like yer tone," Merida said, eyes narrowing.

"Well, that's too bad," Elsa said. "I'm the queen, and I can use whatever tone I like."

"Well, I'm a princess annnnnd a guest! Which outranks a queen! Now pick up yer bow an' let me fix yer posture!"

"I don't think so. I've never even been kissed," Elsa said acidly, "And I'm getting the impression archery should wait until the third date, at least!"

What happened next, was not quite planned.

Merida stepped forward, obvious anger in her eyes, and clamped a hand onto Elsa's arm. Elsa pulled away, but she was not as strong as Merida and so did not manage to break her grip. She did, however, unbalance her somewhat, and this normally wouldn't have been an issue... but Elsa's discarded bow was still between them. Merida tripped, the body of the weapon rolling under her foot, and fell forward just as Elsa pulled again and fell back, and...

Merida was silent for a long moment, something soft beneath her and something softer pressing against her lips.

Elsa was silent for a long moment, something soft above her and something softer pressing against her lips.

It was... very warm, and very soft, and very odd, and both girls knew very well that now was the time to move and jump away and leave the room and never go back into it and preferably never speak to each other again. Maybe write a letter or something when they were back in separate countries. And happily married.

And yet, neither of them moved.

Several long seconds passed. Elsa shifted her head to one side, and closed her eyes, and Merida shifted her arms like so...

The posture was perfect. Neither girl had ever kissed anyone, but it wasn't hard to find out what worked, and while it was still awkward and nervous it was soft and Elsa thought it was probably the best way she'd ever been touched...

The torch popped, and Merida jumped, sliding backwards on her hands and heels like a crab, eyes wide.

"I... I..." she said.

"That... I..." Elsa said, face flushed.

"That was..."

"I..."

"We..."

"Back to the ball," Merida said suddenly, jumping up and grabbing her shoes.

"Yes!" Elsa agreed, straightening her gown and kicking the bow back against the wall.

The two girls sprinted out of the room, nearly running into each other at the door, stopping to apologize simultaneously, looking each other in the eyes, blushing furiously, and going back to running.

(*)

"So," Elsa said as they stood outside the door. "Nothing happened?"

"Nothin'."

"And if anyone asks, we?"

"Were watchin' the stars an' speakin' of trade agreements."

"Good!"

"B' about what di' happen..."

"No! No, we... nothing! That was an accident and nothing else, and... and..." Elsa sighed. "I have enough problems. I can't... I just..."

Merida nodded, smiling a little sadly. "Aye. I understan'. I... just... well. It wasn't bad, was it?"

Elsa thought back to that fluttering, awkward warmth, and sighed. "It doesn't matter if it was or not. We... we..."

Merida coughed. "Well. I still owe ye an archery lesson, then."

"... no."

"An' why not?" Merida asked. "Are ye sayin' we cannae be friends now? Cannae spend time together? Verra rude."

Elsa sighed. "I... Merida, please. That is a terrible idea and you know it. Something is very clearly... wrong here, and we can't... can't..."

"Be tempted?"

"Yes. … No. I mean... that..."

"If nothin' happened," Merida said innocently, "then there is nothin' wrong with us getting to know each other better. And seeing if nothing did happen or not."

Elsa sighed. "I... I'll... well..."

"Jus'... something to think about," Merida said, examining her fingers idly. "And in all truth, ye could use an archery lesson. Yer posture really is awful."

Elsa sighed, turned away from the very interesting... vexing, not interesting, she was interesting when she was agreeing to pretend nothing happened but she is officially a menace now... and opened the door into the main hall, ready to save Anna and deal with a problem she could understand.

"An' then the great Mor'du did fall, the stones did crush him dead, and back unto the hall DunBroch the king did take his head!" Anna sang in harmony with Fergus, the king lifting her up onto his shoulder and a mug in his other hand, as the royal band played some odd, skirling, bizarre piece she had never heard. The crowd cheered, applauding the two stalwart singers, as Queen Elinor tried very hard to pretend she did not exist.

… Yes.

The Scottish were weird.

(*)

Author's Note: God those accents were awful.

And sadly, not sure on the quality of the rest of it, either. I'm hoping it was good (a request fic that the requester does not like is a bad fic), but I'm not confident in my romance skills. And while this is more the start of a romance than an actual one, I... dunno. It was complex.

Still, hope you liked! If you did, feel free to check my profile for other works.