The Princess and the Hood: Reflections of the Wine Bottle

"You drunken galoot..."

"What am I doing, Elinor?"

"Trying to find your lost leg at the bottom of a keg is what you're doing." she said bluntly. "This has gone on long enough."

"I can't help it, dear. Without my leg I can't walk. Can't run. Can't fight..."

"You're a veteran." said mum, much calmer this time. "You're a fighter, you can push through anything."

"I'm no soldier, not anymore."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But I'll tell you what you are, Fergus. YOU are the man who made plenty of hard choices, and continues doing so, to keep peace among the four clans. That makes you our king. The Bear King. Your fight with Mor'du will become a legend one day."

Dad snorted at that notion, but mum ignored it and kept going.

"And let me tell you what else. You are MY husband, and Merida's father. The girl idolises you. So it's up to you to decide what kind of example you want to set. Not just for her, but for the rest of the clan. So tell me, you drunken galoot. Are you going to be the man Merida knows you are, or will you keep searching through wine bottles and pints of ale for answers?"

Confused and strangely guilt-ridden, I went back outside to the castle green to pick up my arrows; the ones that missed the target and poked out of the grass. As I refilled my quiver one by one, I began to wonder what would have become of my dad if we hadn't gone out for my birthday. What if we'd just stayed at the castle instead? After hearing him downstairs, I knew that dad would still have his leg and not be toppled over like a chess piece every day.

I started pulling the rest of my arrows from the target, starting with my worst shots and working my way up to my best.

"So that's it, then?"

I turned around to see dad, his left thigh dangling over the ground while his right leg and the base of his staff were planted to the ground. Through his messy beard he smiled at me, pointing to the target.

"Yer first bullseye?"

"Aye, it is." I nodded.

"You're certainly better at pastimes than I am." he chuckled.

But then, guilt eating me up inside, I couldn't help myself. "I'm sorry. We shouldn't have gone out." I didn't bother trying to contain my shaking. "We wouldn't have met that bear. You'd still have your leg and not be all—"

"Hey, hey, it's all right." Dad assured me, sitting in the grass with his staff down. He opened up his arms and beckoned me towards him. "Come here, lass."

I ran over to the man and hugged his neck, breathing in that furry cloak as his strong arms held me tight.

"It's not yer fault, Merida." he said soothingly. "Nothing is. It was the bear. He just happened to be there, wrong place at the wrong time. Don't ever think about what might have happened after it already has. Not like I have. I've been acting stupid. But I promise, I'm gonna make this right. I'm yer father. Leg or no leg, that'll never change."