Requested by talking-hat
“Suitor? Another one? Mum!”
“Merida,” her mother groaned, “humor me. He’s the son of a good friend of your father’s. Don’t think about it as a duty.”
“Alright, how about a punishment? Or a prison sentence?” the red head shot back, her old temper flaring. “I’d thought we agreed to not do this.”
“I’m not telling you to marry him!” her mother tried to reason, her fingers massaging her temple. “You owe your father a meeting. At least be present for their arrival later, say hello, and if you don’t like him you don’t have to stay. That’s reasonable, is it not?”
The young girl huffed, blowing a stray curl from her eye on for it to flap back down and poke her. Her mother chuckled softly, stepped forward and tucked the resilient curl behind her daughter’s ear. Her hands cupped Merida’s round race as she smiled down. “For your father?”
“Oh, alright,” the redhead replied, playfully rolling her eyes. “But don’t expect much more.”
“When would I ever overestimate you?” she asked gentle and leaned forward, rubbing their noses together.
Merida broke into bursts of laughter as she pushed away from her mother and ran out of the room, calling for her brothers.