A Highland Love Story

Chapter 11

OMG SO SORRY I DID NOT PUBLISH ON TIME. Something came up and I was busy. However I am here now. Hope you enjoy!

Following the Witch's instructions, Merida and Y/N embarked on a treacherous journey through the dense forest, navigating a path that hadn't been tread upon in years.

After a day of relentless travel, they reached the heart of the once-great kingdom of MacLeod. Here, they stood on hallowed ground, surrounded by the ruins of what had once been a thriving civilization. Nature had overtaken the stone walls and structures, weaving its way through the remnants of this lost kingdom.

Merida cast a melancholic glance around, her heart heavy with the memories of her previous visit to this place. She knew that Mor'du had once roamed these very grounds, and the mere thought sent a shiver down her spine.

Y/N's curiosity got the better of him as he turned to Merida, his voice tinged with urgency. "What happened to Mor'du? Tell me, Merida."

With a solemn sigh, Merida nodded, knowing that she couldn't evade this question any longer. She recounted the tale of her mother's transformation into a bear, the heart-wrenching separation, and her desperate quest to mend the familial bond.

She spoke of how her mother, Elinor, was captured by her own father, King Fergus, who mistook her for Mor'du, the legendary bear who had terrorized the kingdom. Merida's eyes clouded with sorrow as she revealed that it was she who had killed Mor'du, not with an arrow, but by slamming him against a rock until the very life left his monstrous form.

Y/N couldn't hide his amazement at the story's incredible details. "So, let me get this straight," he said, incredulously, "your dad punched a bear that had the power of ten men in the face?"

Merida chuckled at the simplification but nodded. "Aye, something like that. It was a difficult and dangerous time for us all."

The old throne room, now a relic frozen in time, stretched before Merida and Y/N like a silent witness to the bygone era of MacLeod's grandeur. Moss-covered stone walls stood tall, their once-imposing stature softened by the passage of time. Faint traces of elaborate murals adorned the walls, depicting scenes of battles won and celebrations held, now faded to mere echoes of the past.

The air within the chamber carried a musty scent, a blend of dust and decay that clung to the ancient stones. Shafts of pale sunlight filtered through cracks in the ceiling, creating ethereal patterns on the worn floor. The room echoed with the distant hum of nature reclaiming its territory, as vines snaked through crevices and ferns nestled in the corners.

In the center of the room, the grand wooden throne stood as a testament to a time when kings and queens ruled the kingdom. Carvings of mythical creatures adorned its arms, their details blurred by years of neglect. The once-luxurious upholstery now lay in tatters, a silent witness to the passage of countless seasons.

Above the throne, a faded tapestry hung precariously from the wall, its threads telling the story of MacLeod's rise to glory. Yet, time had rendered the once-vibrant colors into muted shades, leaving behind a tapestry that seemed to mourn the loss of its former brilliance.

The atmosphere in the room carried a solemn weight, as if the very stones harbored the memories of joy and sorrow that once unfolded within these walls. The dust particles danced in the beams of light, creating an almost magical ambiance that contrasted sharply with the decay surrounding them.

As Merida and Y/N explored the chamber, the crunch of debris beneath their feet echoed through the silence. Each step seemed to awaken the echoes of MacLeod's past, as if the ghosts of the kingdom's former

Merida's gaze lingered on the remnants of the once-majestic throne room, her mind heavy with the weight of her own family's history. She recalled the tales her father, Fergus, had shared about MacLeod's glorious past – the laughter that once echoed within these walls, the feasts that celebrated victories, and the united front against any threat to their kingdom.

The ancient family tree etched onto the stone walls whispered the tale of triumphs and tragedies. Names that once stood proudly now faced the erosion of time, a poignant reminder of the impermanence of power. Merida couldn't help but wonder about her place in this intricate web of legacy, her connection

The ancient family tree etched onto the stone walls told a story of lineage and legacy. However, it was not a tale of uninterrupted prosperity. Instead, the further up the tree one looked, the more the names faded and scratched, as though an attempt had been made to erase a painful history. The very rock seemed to bear the scars of a kingdom's fall from grace.

Y/N's gaze, sharpened by curiosity, followed the tree upwards. At first, all he saw were vague lines and barely discernible markings. His eyes squinted, and as he focused, the name etched into the stone became painfully clear.

"Prince Y/N," he read aloud, his voice shaking.

Merida looked at the name on the tree and then at Y/N, her eyes widening in shock. "That can't be... your name is not written here as a Prince of MacLeod."

Y/N was as stunned as Merida, but his gaze continued upwards to discover more. There, above his name, were the remnants of another name. It seemed to have been broken off of the west of the family. Though partially erased and obscured, the letters were still legible.

Y/N whispered the name, his voice trembling. His heart raced as the realization hit him like a bolt of lightning.

Mor'du