An Unexpected Destiny (Completed)

Four Days Past

The next three days, my days are full of Merida picking me up in my locked room in the morning, and chaperoning me all over the castle and town.  I cannot fathom why she likes me so much; I was never this popular in school.  And she is not shy about her like of me.  The day after I discovered I had been locked in my room, we had groomed Angus in the morning and strolled all throughout town.  I had been introduced to everyone as Merida's 'great friend'.  I don't know how to react to this either.

Everyone seemed thrilled to meet me-- sincerely so.  I met the butcher, the laundress, the seamstress, the carpenter, the baker and his rosy wife, the bard (who recited a gorgeous poem for me), and several off-duty Scouts.  My Scouts were on duty.  Merida had nearly introduced me to Alistair, but he had three horses being held by their owners standing outside of his shop, so she promised me the next day.  I can't explain why, but I was relieved.

I have become more comfortable at the dinner table with the royals.  I would be even further along in that feeling though, if everyone here resorted to what those back in the States did: ignoring me until it was absolute necessary to make small talk.  Here, I was in the spotlight.  And the audience kept wanting me to entertain, so it was not a one-night event.  I constantly received standing ovations.

The triplets constantly tried to get me to play food-fight with them, which the Queen chastised them for; the King asked for more details about my home and doings of my family; Merida narrated stories with her father and whispered funny comments and other things that I only imagined sisters whispered to one another.  And the Queen... yeah, the Queen.  She still sat there and watched my every twitch like that of an eagle waiting for a rabbit to jump out of hiding.  Granted, she did join in the stories the second night I was in Dunbroch and the third night of the third day, she asked me questions without narrowing her eyes at me.

This morning, just like the previous three mornings, my door was locked.  Merida had also asked that same night Queen Elinor had decided to talk to me if we could go riding.

The queen, sorting through some letters that Maudy had brought to her on a tray, did not look up as she said, "You know the answer to that, Merida."

Merida had pressed her lips together and stared down at her plate frustratingly.  I assumed that meant no.  Just as I assumed the locked door meant that I was still not fully trusted.  King Fergus noticed and began to argue on Merida and I's behalf, only to have Merida convince him it would make no difference.  The singular focus Queen Elinor had on the letters that rendered her unable to speak proved this.  I feel though as if I do not have to worry about this; whether it be because I only see the Queen at supper, or because I am still (slyly) looking for a way back home.  Actually, I am just telling myself the latter.  I am not in reality seeking out for a way home.  Which is not at all good: it means I am getting much too comfortable. 

It's wrong.  So wrong.

But how can I not?  When, for the first time, standing here with Merida and King Fergus teaching me how to properly hold a sword, I feel like someone is truly interested in ME.  Not just my flaws and quirks, but me.  Both Merida and King Fergus listen to everything I say and answer every question patiently and gladly.  I feel connected to humanity in a way I haven't ever, at least not that I can recall.

I shift my weight from foot to foot and flex my hands wrapped around the long sword that I have been practicing with since after the first full day.  Merida stands opposite me, appearing much more relaxed and confident than I.  King Fergus faces us and coaches both of us as we begin to spar.  Well, Merida spars.  I just try to block her swings.  When we first started, I was worried that she might actually slice an arm of mine off; but she is careful to only hit me with the flat of her sword.