Merida's POV
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"Mum, you have to listen to me. I'm tellin' the truth! And you have to help me get back!" I plead for the billionth time, trying hard not to beat the sense into my mother.
Yes, my mother. Somehow, I'm back home. Back in my castle with my overbearing - and yes, loving too - parents and extremely annoying little brothers. I didn't think it possible to actually miss any of them...
Yet here we are.
My mother furrows her eyebrows, her arms crossed and one hand up and caressing her chin in thought as she stands in the middle of my room. My own arms are crossed over my chest, but for a different reason. Annoyance and impatience are both waring within me, and it's all I can do to not just pick up my bow and quiver and sprint out of here to find my own solution to this problem.
The problem is, I have zero idea how to get out of here. And by "here," I mean this world. Unfortunately, I doubt my mother really knows too much about this either. But isn't it worth a try? I doubt I'd be much better, out there in the woods running around senselessly hoping to find a way back.
Portals. Why did it have to be portals?
I can deal with giant, man-eating bears and the occasional magical wisp or spell, but portals? Other worlds? How am I supposed to deal with any of that?
Not alone, that's for sure, even if, in the past, I've worked fine on my own, with my bow and arrows. But this time, I admit, I need help.
So yes, I'm asking my mother, no matter how low the odds of her actually being able to help are.
Finally, after what feels like another eternity, my mother responds, "Well, even if what yer saying is in fact true...I don't have any clue of what to make of it." Her words are simple, matter of fact. And, although I was expecting them, that doesn't make hearing them any less frustrating.
"Arghhh," I groan, gripping my unruly red hair in my hands as I turn away from her. "Well isn't this just perfect! I finally get home, but I have to leave, and I have absolutely no means to do it!" I face the door to the bedroom, arms crossed over my chest. "Talk about bad luck," I grumble, eyes trained on the floor. Frustration with being utterly helpless threatens to spill over.
Calm down, Merida. You're supposed to be a princess, even if you're not very proper. Don't lose your head completely; you'll need it to find a way back.
Momentary fear causes my body to stiffen and my throat to tighten. What if I can't find a way back? What if while all my friends are fighting with Pitch Black or whatever his name is, I'm stuck here, away from adventure and back to my dreaded royal duties?
Although, now that going back home has helped me recover my memory - which did come as quite the shock - I do know that it was much, much worse, especially before Mor'du and the spell I kinda sorta accidentally placed onto my mother. In the end, it did help me realize my fate, and how I will be the one to decide it.
Unfortunately, it doesn't really feel like my fate is in my own hands this time. If this is Pitch's doing...well, let's just say that I won't hesitate to put an arrow through this face. Or maybe even a few arrows. Either way, I'll do it gladly.
A hand rests lightly on my shoulder, and I jump, having gone into my own little fantasy world of making Pitch pay royally for all of this. Turning my face, my eyes meet those of my mother, soft and concerned.
"Merida, I'm not really sure of what is going on. But whatever it is...are you sure you want to leave? You've finally come home, after all this time, and..." Her voice catches briefly. I try not to allow my mouth to drop open. My mother, the queen, isn't talking with full eloquence? Full confidence?
But the expression on her face keeps my mouth shut. Her countenance is pained, her jaw set. My eyes widen.
Was my absence really this...well, upsetting on everyone?
I probably should feel touched by this. And I do, no doubt. However, over that nice feeling is one of anger. Anger that my family had to go through this.
Pitch, when I get my hands on you...
I reach up and gently place my hand on top of my mother's before turning and facing her. I square my shoulders before opening my mouth to speak, "I know that, Mum. I know. And that's why I can't stay. The man that did this has done this to many of my friends too, and-" My voice catches, and I try not to grimace. Years of my mother's engraved lessons about eloquence still exist in my head, even if I've tried numerous times to erase them.
"This man can't be allowed to just keep playing with people's lives. Not anymore." I turn, reaching for my quiver and slinging it over my shoulder. I grab my bow, gripping it tight in my hands. Nothing has ever belonged more in my grasp, and nothing ever will.
"I'm sorry," I say, turning away from my mother. "I have to go. I promise I'll come back."
"Merida, wait!" She calls, her hand reaching out for my retreating form.
Quickly, I practically race out the door, trying hard to ignore my mother's desperate plea. I take off down the staircase, my quiver banging against my back with each step. Skipping the last couple of steps, I jump the rest of the way to the floor before taking off at a run to the stables. Various servants try to greet me as I race past, but I don't return the gesture, not really caring how rude my actions may be. My only thoughts are to get out of here, and now. If I don't leave soon...
I'm afraid I won't be able to.
I finally reach the stables, quickly freeing Angus and jumping onto his back.
"Go, Angus, go!" I command, and the powerful horse beneath me takes off at a fast gallop. Some of the tightness of my chest loosens it's hold as the thrill of riding a great horse fills my senses, the wind blowing in my face. I ride into the forest, past all of the targets I'd once placed on the various trees lining the path I always take to my favorite destination. Absently, I bring my bow forward and begin firing at the targets, my mind racing as fast as the horse beneath me.
How in all of the worlds that seem to exist out there am I going to get back? I don't have any special powers or a dragon to help me. I only have myself and my bow and arrows, and I doubt they'll suddenly gain the power to send me to different worlds.
That would be nice, though. Extremely.
One arrow misses the center of the target by about an inch. I set my jaw in annoyance and reach back to grab another arrow, notching it and firing it perfectly into the bullseye of the next incoming target. I can't help but smile with satisfaction, but my less-than-pleasant thoughts quickly work to remove it from my face.
If you don't figure out something now...you'll never leave this place. You'll never see your friends, who are basically your only friends, again. You'll leave Elsa at the mercy of Pitch, and everyone else to fend for themselves.
Just as despair begins to fill all the corners of my mind, a small blue light catches my eye.
What...?
I slow Angus to a stop, furrowing my eyebrows in thought as I look closer at the forest floor. My eyes widen as the little blue light comes into clearer view.
A willo-the-wisp!
Without any hesitation, I stir Angus to take off after the blue light, "Follow the wisp, Angus! Don't lose it!"
In response, he whinnies, putting on even more speed as he chases down the magical creatures. Although, I assume that, even if we weren't chasing them at an all-out gallop, they would wait for us. There's something they want me to see. And some part of me - no, all of me - is hoping that whatever they show me will be the key for getting back to the others.
The next few minutes rush by in a blur as Angus races over roots and under branches, never losing sight of the wisps forming a trail before us. Finally, the last wisp disappears, no other wisp reappearing further ahead as I expected.
"Woah, Angus, stop here!" I command, pulling gently on the horse's mane. Obediently, he slows, eventually coming to a stop in front of an old wooden house. My heart stops, my eyes widening and my mouth dropping open, something my mother would reprimand me for before I could say "unfair!"
I swallow thickly as my mouth goes dry, my eyes scanning the exterior of the small building before me. I try with all my might to find a difference, to find something that can prove me wrong. But the more I look, the more I find absolutely nothing. It's still carved out of a small hillside, the roof of the cottage consisting of lush green grass and gray stones. The walls, old yet sturdy, are consisted of the same old wooden planks. Lastly, there's that same dreaded stone walkway leading to that same dreaded door.
Of course, no matter how hard I look to find something, anything to prove the contrary, there's no mistaking it.
This is the witch's cottage. The same place that changed my fate, and almost ended my mother's, forever.
As a result, I'm not quite sure how to take in this place standing before me. It's a pretty good competition between "I never want to see this place again" and "thank you so much for changing my life." Neither has won yet, unfortunately. If one had, I wouldn't just be standing here gawking. I would either be long gone, or already through the door.
Angus grunts behind me, bucking and prancing around as he begins to back away. I whirl around, surprise surging through me as I reach my hand out for him, my feet moving to try and catch up as a shocked cry rises in my throat. Unfortunately, no matter how nifty it would be, I'm not as fast as a galloping stallion. Especially one that's frightened out of its wits.
As Angus disappears into the forest, I groan, letting my head tilt back as I glare into the sky, now overcast with dark, roiling clouds.
"Thanks a lot! This is just great! The whole lot of it!" I turn, my eyes zeroing in with no small amount of contempt or dislike on the cottage before me, almost tauntingly standing there.
"Why here?" I ask no one in particular, gesturing towards the building wildly. "Is this supposed to help? Last I checked, a princess should not be messing around with witchcraft, right?"
Something inside of me scoffs at my words. Fat chance at that! Especially for a princess such as yourself.
I have to agree with that. Not-so-deep down, I know I was only lying to myself. If anything, a princess should be messing around with witchcraft, right? If messed around with correctly, witchcraft can really be useful, especially when a princess has really run out of options.
As I face the witch's cottage in front of me, there's no doubt about it. I'm out of options at this point. The willo-the-wisps led me here for a reason. Although there's no sign on the door that reads Portals Open and Ready for Use Here!, I know that this is my only chance at getting back to the others.
I take a deep breath, squaring my shoulders and glaring with determination at the cottage.
"You better be my way back," I threaten as I stride towards the door, my hand instinctively gripping my bow until my knuckles go white. Without bothering to knock, I shove through the door.
As the door slams into a wall beyond the threshold, I pause, my heart beating out of my chest as I take in my surroundings. Unlike the first time I found this place, there are no simple wood carvings scattered across the room. No, this time, the cottage hasn't bothered to disguise itself from me. The cottage's expanse is basically empty, the large brewing pot in the center of the room it's only piece of furniture, if you can count it as such. Various shelves with flickering candles and odd objects line all the walls. And there, standing in front of the pot with her back turned to me is the old witch, her crow not too far away. Slowly, I step inside, the door creaking as it closes behind me.
"It's been awhile, hasn't it?" The witch croaks, turning and grinning that same gap-toothed grin that I remember.
I don't bother to answer her question, instead cutting quickly to the chase. But before I can even open my mouth, she interrupts me. "Well, ask me, will you? I know you're dying to know."
A relieved smile breaks through my expression, and I step forward closer to her and her pet. "I knew it! I knew that you knew what was going on!"
"Of course I do! I always do," she sends me that same, usually unsettling grin. "Well, I won't keep you waiting any longer." Turning, she retreats to a corner of the dark room, a place I hadn't really taken into much consideration before now.
What is it? Is there a portal-making thing there? Maybe a potion that will give me the temporary ability to make one?
"Hm, where is it? I know I put it over here..."
As she searches the corner, I move further towards the pot in the center of the room, standing on my tiptoes to try and catch a glimpse of whatever magical contraption she has waiting. My heart picks up in anticipation and a lack of patience brings my arms to cross in front of my chest. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she lets out a triumphant "Aha!" before turning, a wooden object grasped in her wrinkled hands.
Now, before anything else, I would like everyone to know that I am not a violent or crazy person. But when that googly old hag turns around with a wooden trophy with a "First Place" engraved on the front, I have to work extremely hard to not wrap my hands around her throat. Some might wonder why I wouldn't just use an arrow. Well, these arrows are newly sharpened.
Like I'd waste one on her.
But, as I said before, I am not a violent person. So instead, I ground out through clenched teeth, "What...is...that?"
She somehow finds the audacity to look offended. If anyone has the right to feeling offended, it's me. But even if I want to voice these comments allowed, she quickly replies, stepping closer to me with the trophy in hand, holding it as if it were a new, perfectly formed bow without a flaw, not a worthless, wooden trophy.
Well, in her case, she probably wouldn't really care at all about the bow unless it had something to do with her wood carvings, but still.
"You mean you don't know?" She asks, her voice incredulous.
Trying hard not to let my eye twitch too much in annoyance, I force out, "No, I don't. Would you mind explaining, perhaps?"
The witch's face breaks into another one of her gapped-tooth grins. "Then I'll gladly explain, even if I was quite sure this was what all your fuss was about, wondering how I'd done at the wood carving festival. Well, now you know! I was the champion!"
My mouth drops open, all previous teachings about etiquette flying out of my brain faster than an arrow shot out of a tightly-strung bow string. "Wait, what?" I begin to pace subconsciously, my hands raking through my unruly hair. "So...so yer telling me that you think I wanted to see you to know what place you got in some...some wood carving contest?"
"Of course!" She retorts, taken aback by my angry response. "Why else would you? This isn't just some place you go to pay a friendly visit," she turns, setting the trophy back in the corner.
Don't kill the witch, don't kill the witch. "I don't know...maybe the fact that you are a witch and can perform magical, very helpful spells would be a good reason?"
"Oh, I almost forgot about that. You know, all caught up in my woodcarving. That disguise has really become more than just that, hm?" After tapping her chin in thought, she heads back towards me and the large brewing pot in front of me. However, I don't miss the mischievous glint in her eyes.
"Wait a minute...yer devising some devious, witchy-thing, aren't you?" I accuse, eyes widening in realization.
"Hm?" She raises an eyebrow, reaching into various shelves to grab...ingredients? For what? "I don't know what you mean, I'm afraid."
Her crow, which I'd almost forgotten about, flies down from his place on the rafters and lands on the edge of the pot, cackling."She figured it-"
But before I could hear the end of the bird's sentence, a broom comes flying out of nowhere and slams into it, knocking it off of its perch. It lands on the ground, looking like a very flat, disgruntled pile of feathers. Even though I'm not a genius, however, I heard enough to know what the creature was about to say.
"What is it? What did I figure out?" I question, stepping towards the witch.
Her back still turned to me as she searches through the shelves lining the walls, she sighs, "Well, since someone decided to ruin it, I suppose I should tell you."
My heart rate picks up, my fingers clenching around my bow. "What is it?" My voice comes out almost breathlessly; not necessarily what I was going for, but at this point, I can't really find it in me to care all that much.
The witch doesn't reply right away, turning around with an armful of ingredients. With an almost sorry expression - something I've never seen on her face before - she moves towards the pot and dumps the various objects in her arms into the pot. I jump slightly as a small explosion occurs in the swirling liquid, smoke rising in the air.
"Was that supposed to happen?" I ask warily, stepping back from the pot.
She gives me a sideways look. "Of course! I don't make mistakes, dearie."
I swallow thickly, still keeping a good foot or two between me and the possibly combustible potion in front of me. "Right."
"Well, now that that's done, time to get started," the witch continues, turning to face me with her hands clasped in front of her. "The situation is rather delicate, and rather frustrating, in the way that, well..." she trails off, and I narrow my eyes slightly.
I don't like the sound of this.
"Well? What is it? What makes the situation so bad? Whatever is is, I can handle it." I hope.
But the fearful thought remains unspoken, so at least I look tough on the outside.
The witch doesn't reply at first, and my already paper thin amount of patience is diminishing, and fast. I'm about ready to throttle the answer out of her when she finally decides to explain.
"I can't tell you."
Let me rephrase that. I'm about ready to throttle the answer out of her when she decides to give me the most worthless, pointless answer in the history of answers.
"What?!" I can't help but exclaim incredulously, anger and frustration flaring in my chest.
"Now now, don't lose your horses, dearie," she says calmly, winking! How can she wink right now! "That means to be stable, by the way."
"I'm well aware of that! I'm also aware of the fact that you-you-" I can't finish, unable to think of a way to describe her in this moment. Although there are many ways I could, in a very unladylike way. But she's still a witch. I don't want to become a frog or something because I have no self control.
After calming myself with no small amount of difficulty, I meet her gaze, pure confusion bright in mine. "I thought...the wisps led me here. Doesn't that mean that you're supposed to help me?"
She sighs, and suddenly, she looks tired. Tired and...lost? Why would she feel lost?
I'm about to ask as much when her eyes brighten considerably. She brings an arm up and snaps her fingers, a grin spreading across her face. "I know! I can't tell you outright, because you have to figure it out for the potion to work, but I can give you hints!"
I blink, furrowing my eyebrows in thought. "Wait, what? Hints? About what?"
But she doesn't reply, instead stroking her chin in thought as she mutters to herself, "Maybe...no, that wouldn't work..." After another moment, she snaps her fingers again, eyes bright. "Bingo!"
Directing her attention back on me, the witch rubs her hands together, a triumphant glint in her eyes. Before I can give it enough thought for it to make me uneasy, she starts talking slowly, "Now, think hard. Ever since you...came back home, have you noticed anything strange?"
I frown, not quite understanding where this is headed. "Uh...I don't think so...why?"
Her eyes narrow slightly, "Are you sure? Nothing at all?"
I open my mouth to reply that yes, I was sure, when things start to come to mind. Things like how, when I was riding Angus, I missed a center of a target. And I never miss. I'm not trying to be arrogant, it's just the truth. Shooting at those targets has become second nature to me, as simple as dressing in the morning, (if I'm not trying to get into something too fancy, that is). And when the wisps led us to the witch's cottage, and Angus ran away. He gets scared, yes, but he's never left me there alone. Why would he now?
As I think, one more thing comes to mind. I pull myself out of my thoughts for a moment, my heart pounding hard with something I can't quite identify. I raise my eyes to the witch's, which are filled to the brim with anticipation. "When I came here, why didn't you conceal the cottage? Every time I've come here, the cottage is in it's woodcarving form. So why any different this time?"
Her grin grows impossibly wider. "You're right there. Now, think. I would never do that, right? Not only can I not risk my identity being revealed, but I never miss an opportunity to sell some of my carvings. So, why would I do that?"
As I rack my brain for answers, my mind goes back to the time when Elsa explained everything to all of us. When she told us about what Pitch Black can do.
And there's one thing that, right now, stands out far above the others.
Pitch Black can create illusions.
The realization hits me like punch to the stomach, knocking the wind and sense out of me. Cold dread spreads throughout my body, fear and the feeling of being completely out of control clawing its way up my throat. My heart drops, my breathing quickening.
"Dearie? Did you figure it out?"
I didn't sign up for this. Any of this.
I open my mouth and try to speak, but nothing comes out. I swallow thickly, clenching my fist around my bow to find comfort.
"None...none of this is real. It's...it's all an illusion," I breathe hoarsely.
And I almost jump right out of my skin when the witch cheers, cackling maniacally. Strangely, although the sound is terrifying, the familiarity of it helps brings me back to Earth, or whatever this place is.
"You did it! I knew you would! I'm like your inner voice, telling you to get your head screwed on right and to get out of here." Grinning hugely, she grabs a vial off a shelf and fills it with the potion, now a dark purple color. She hands it to me, pressing it into my hands.
"Drink this, and it'll take you back. What's waiting for you isn't easy, however. I hope you're ready for what's coming."
I smirk. "Is that concern I hear?"
The witch rolls her eyes, "I'm not real, remember? So neither is this concern."
"Mhm," I smile. "Thank you. I'm coming home soon. I just have something I need to take care of."
For a moment, something flickers in the witch's gaze, but it vanishes quickly. She steps back, gesturing at the vile in my hands. "Well, no time for dawdling! You have friends and family waiting for you!"
I nod, bringing the bottle to my lips.
That I do.
And as the liquid enters my mouth, the world fades away.
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Sorry this took so long, Merida was hard to write but I figured it out haha. Only a few more chapters!
Ren