From Me To You: A Mericcup Story

Chapter 15

Merida got Angus situated in his stable, grumbling about Macintosh ruining her nearly perfect leaf crown.

There was a commotion at the gates, and she turned to see what the big deal was.

A cart was rolling in. Nothing strange.

It was a cart for prisoners. Every other week there was a prisoner brought in.

The prisoner was a very familiar brown haired boy.

Merida couldn't breath.

Hiccup.

His head was bleeding on the left side, dropping onto his shirt. He was half conscious, but he was still able to find Merida and lock eyes.

She couldn't acknowledge him or bad things would happen to the both of them.

She needed to see him.

That night, Merida stole a maid's uniform, tucked her hair under the hood, and made her way down to the dungeons.

The only guard was the one that stood at the top of the stairs, the only way out. He was half asleep, making it easy to slip past.

Down the dark stairs were the cells, lit only by the few dim burning torches on the walls.

There were hardly any prisoners in the cells. Any prisoner brought was given a trial and then let go. If you were a war prisoner or a killer, then you stayed.

Hiccup was in one of the first cells, hands in shackles and bound to the wall.

The first thing that registered in Merida's mind was the blood.

He was practically covered in it. His arms were covered in cuts, small and large. His face was swollen, red and purple and black. Blood dripped from his mouth onto his shirt. His fake foot was gone and his real one was twisted in a way it shouldn't be.

But the most horrendous things was the "slice of pain," as the Scots called it.

They would slowly carve a line from the prisoners right shoulder to their left side, usually by their hip. It was deep, but not so deep it would kill. It left ugly scars and was performed on both men and women.

Merida cleaned his wounds, pouring water in some of them to clean them. She started on his legs, working her way up.

She stuffed her handkerchief in his mouth, mumbled apologies, and reset his foot.

Hiccup arched in pain, whatever consciousness he had been regaining disappearing.

The small cuts were easy, the larger cuts were sometimes sewn, mostly just bound. His face was also easy, wetting her handkerchief and placing it over his cheeks.

Then came the "slice of pain." It was ghastly. Merida had always heard about this torture device, but had never seen it. Most people didn't get it all the way, giving up to the pain. It took a lot to let them carve you up and still refuse to give information.

With great care, she wiped away the blood, pouring water on a spare bandage rather than directly on the wound. More apologies were heard as she stitched it up, cringing with him.

Merida finished cleaning Hiccup up, kissing him as gently as she could and promising to get him out.

As Merida lay in her bed, she went over countless strategies. They all ended with them either getting caught or being killed in the process. It would be so much easier if there was a celebration going on so she could slip out while everyone was drunk.

She bolted up, a new idea in her head. She could announce she had decided to get married. That would result in a huge celebration. It would be perfect.