Family
As I guided Merida through the winding paths of Berk, the village buzzed with activity. Fishmongers shouted over the din of gulls, smiths hammered steel, and dragon riders soared overhead, casting fleeting shadows over the cobblestone streets.
One by one, villagers came up to greet me—some offering nods of respect, others slapping me on the back with wide grins.
"Chief!"
"Good to see you!"
"Your father would be proud, lad."
Merida watched it all with a quiet sort of wonder.
"Everyone seems to respect and revere you," she said softly, her eyes lingering on the smiling faces we passed.
I grinned. "Of course—they should. I am the chief, after all."
She arched a brow. "And here I thought humility was a virtue."
I chuckled. "It is—but so is strength. And that's what they really revere. My strength, more than my title."
"Really?" she asked, tilting her head. "How strong are you exactly?"
I smirked, glancing toward a group of young dragon riders training in the distance. "Let's just say... if I fought the entire village—including the dragons—I'd still win."
Her eyes widened. "No way. You've gotten that strong?"
"Yep," I said, nodding. "Since we last met, I trained like a madman. Day and night, until my body felt like it would break. I only started to calm down after my travels."
"Wait—you left Berk?" she asked, surprised.
"Yep. Just packed my gear and disappeared into the wild for a while. Needed answers. Needed strength."
She smiled wistfully. "Lucky. I wish my parents would let me leave Dunbroch."
I gave her a knowing look, smirking. "You're thinking the wrong thing. I didn't ask for permission—I ran away."
She blinked. "You ran away?!"
"Sure did. Not my proudest moment, but it was necessary. Besides, if I were your parent, I wouldn't let you leave either."
"Why not?" she frowned. "You think I'm weak?"
I stopped walking and turned to face her fully, my tone softer now. "No, I know you're not weak. But strength isn't just about how hard you can hit or how fast you can move. It's about survival—and the archipelago isn't kind. Out there, one mistake can get you killed."
She looked down, her hand tightening slightly around the edge of her skirt.
"I can handle myself," she said quietly, almost stubbornly.
I reached out and lifted her chin gently so her eyes met mine. "I believe you. But believing in someone doesn't mean sending them into danger before they're ready. You're strong, Merida. I've seen it. But strength takes time—and patience."
She stared at me, the defiance in her gaze softening just a bit. "And what? You think I should just wait in my tower until someone says I'm ready?"
I smirked. "No. I think you should train, learn, and earn your freedom. That way, when you finally step into the wilds, you won't be someone who wants to survive—you'll be someone who will."
Her expression shifted, a quiet fire kindling behind her eyes.
"You're annoying when you talk like that," she muttered.
I laughed. "And you're cute when you're frustrated."
She blushed and turned away. "Shut up."
"Make me," I said, grinning.
She glanced back at me, shaking her head but smiling despite herself. "Fine. Show me more of Berk. But next time, I'm the one giving the tour."
"Deal," I said, offering my hand.
She took it.
As we strolled through the village, I heard a familiar, high-pitched voice echo across the courtyard.
"Daddy!"
I turned, my heart instantly lifting. There she was—Moon, sprinting toward me with her arms wide open and a beaming smile on her face.
I dropped to one knee, arms outstretched. "Moon!"
She launched herself into my embrace, wrapping her little arms tightly around my neck. I laughed as she immediately began rambling about her day, how she'd made new friends and helped an old woman feed a stubborn dragon.
"I named him Nibbles! But he bit me—twice!" she said proudly, showing off a tiny tooth mark on her glove like it was a war wound.
I chuckled, ruffling her silver-blonde hair. "That's my brave girl."
But the moment was short-lived.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Merida. She had stopped walking. Her head was bowed, her shoulders trembling slightly. Tears traced silent paths down her freckled cheeks.
Then came her voice—small, broken.
"Y-You... you lied to me."
My smile faded. My heart dropped.
Oh no.
I stood quickly, still holding Moon, but Merida turned away before I could speak. She took off running, disappearing around a bend in the path.
Panic surged in my chest. I had forgotten. I never told her about Moon.
Gently, I set Moon down and handed her a cold soda from the system shop.
"Stay here, okay? I need to fix something."
She nodded, confused but obedient, and I ran.
It didn't take long to catch up—my speed far outpaced hers. I found her near the dragon stables, her breath ragged, her hands clenched into fists. As I reached out and grabbed her wrist, she spun and struck at me with all the strength she had.
"You liar!" she screamed. "You tricked me!"
She kept swinging—wild, angry blows that lacked technique but were full of emotion. Tears streamed down her cheeks, and her voice cracked with every word.
"I trusted you! You made me feel—like I mattered! And all along you—you had a child?"
"Merida, please—just wait, let me explain—"
"No!" she screamed, trying to pull away. "Don't lie to me again!"
This went on for what felt like forever. I didn't fight back. I let her scream, let her vent, let her hit. She needed it.
Eventually, her movements slowed. Her fists weakened. Her knees buckled, and I caught her before she fell.
She was sobbing now, quietly, exhausted.
Only then did she whisper, "Tell me the truth…"
I nodded, gently helping her sit against a nearby rock. And I told her everything.
How I had been trapped in a secret realm for over a thousand years—how time passed differently there. How me and Moon met, saved her life by infusing my mana into her, and becoming her father in the process. How she became bonded to me—something between a daughter and a creation, yet entirely her own person.
"She calls me 'Dad' because to her, I am. But I never—never meant to hide her from you. I just… I didn't know how to explain it all."
She was quiet for a long time, her red-rimmed eyes scanning my face for any sign of deception.
"S-So… she's not… your blood?"
"No, unless I also infuse my blood which I plan to do with you after we're wedded" I said softly. "But she's still my responsibility. I love her."
Merida wiped her face, her voice hoarse. "You're such an idiot."
"I've been told that before," I admitted with a half-smile.
She sighed heavily, finally letting herself breathe. "I believe you. But gods, you could've told me. I thought… I thought you'd moved on. That you found someone else. That all this was just some game to you."
"I swear it's not," I said, my voice low. "I care about you, Merida. Deeply. I just… made a mess of it."
"Yeah. You did."
We sat there in silence for a moment. The wind tugged gently at her hair, now tangled and messy from her outburst. Her eyes were puffy, cheeks streaked with dried tears.
"I'm sorry," I said softly. "Truly."
"It's fine," she muttered. "I just… need time."
I stood and offered her my hand. "Come on. Let's get back before Moon starts asking the villagers awkward questions."
She hesitated, then took my hand and stood. We walked side by side back toward the village.
I tried to lighten the mood with a joke or two, but she didn't laugh—not yet. Just offered a small smile and shook her head, wiping her eyes again.
Sigh.
"This is gonna be another long day," I murmured.
She glanced at me. "You have no idea."
About twenty minutes later, we returned to where we had left Moon. She was still there, idly kicking a small rock down the path, looking completely and utterly bored.
The moment she saw me, her whole face lit up.
"Daddy!" she squealed, running full speed toward me.
I barely had time to brace before she threw her arms around my legs, holding on like a limpet. Her eyes sparkled mischievously as she looked up.
"Can I get another soda?" she asked, putting on her best puppy-dog eyes. "Pretty pleaaaase?"
I sighed, already losing the battle. "Just for today," I said with a smile.
"Yay!" she cheered, hopping with excitement.
I handed her another can from the system shop, and as she eagerly popped it open, her gaze shifted behind me. She blinked curiously.
"Who's she, Daddy?"
I glanced back at Merida, who had just caught up, still looking a little flustered and awkward from everything that had happened. A wicked grin tugged at the corner of my lips. I couldn't resist.
"This?" I said, wrapping an arm casually around Merida's shoulders. "This is your mommy."
Moon's eyes widened with wonder.
"Really?!" she gasped, turning to Merida like she'd just seen a unicorn.
Merida froze. Her entire face turned bright red, and she stiffened under my arm. "W-what?! N-no—I mean, I'm not—" she stammered.
Moon walked right up to her and held out her arms expectantly.
"Mommy, lift me up!" she chirped, bouncing on her toes.
Merida looked like she was about to short-circuit. "I-I d-don't know how to—"
"Mommy… do you not like me?" Moon asked, her lower lip wobbling, tears beginning to pool in her eyes.
And that was it.
Merida caved.
With a defeated sigh and pink cheeks, she bent down and scooped Moon into her arms, albeit a little awkwardly.
"Is… is this better?" she muttered, her voice unsure.
Moon threw her arms around Merida's neck. "Yes, Mommy! You're the best!"
Merida blinked, stunned. Then, slowly, a small smile tugged at her lips. Not her usual confident smirk, but something softer—more real.
I couldn't help it. I stepped forward, laughed, and lifted both of them—Moon squealing in delight and Merida yelping in protest—right off the ground.
"You two are heavy," I teased.
"Put me down!" Merida scolded, though she was laughing now too.
"Nope," I said, grinning from ear to ear. "This is perfect. You, me, and Moon. A family."
They both looked at me—one with wide, innocent eyes, the other with something deeper, harder to describe. Something warm.
This is it, I thought as I held them both. This is the family I want. I'll protect this, no matter what.
Moon giggled and threw her arms out like she was flying. Merida, still red-faced, leaned into me just a little, letting herself smile.
For the first time in a long time, I felt… whole.
And I wasn't about to let the world take that away.
….
We all sat quietly on the grass, the ocean stretching endlessly before us. Waves lapped gently at the shore, their rhythmic pulse soothing. A salty breeze tousled Merida's hair as she leaned back on her arms, eyes half-lidded in thought. Moon lay sprawled on her stomach, poking at a beetle in the grass.
After a moment of hesitation, I spoke.
"Merida," I said softly.
She turned her head toward me, her expression calm. "Yes?"
"Remember when I told you about infusing my mana—my blood—into Moon? To make her… my true daughter?"
She nodded slowly, her eyes narrowing just slightly in curiosity.
I swallowed the nervous lump in my throat and looked down at my hands. "Well… I was wondering if you'd want to do the same."
There was a pause.
"Really?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
I looked up, meeting her eyes. "Of course. We're to be wed in less than two years. You're already becoming a part of this family… I thought it would only be right, for Moon to carry a piece of you too."
Her eyes glistened, and her lips curled into a warm, radiant smile. "I would love to, Erik."
It was the kind of smile that made time stop.
I called Moon over with a gentle wave. She hopped up and bounded toward us, all energy and sunshine.
"Moon," I said, ruffling her hair, "we're going to do something special. Merida's going to become part of you too."
Moon's eyes sparkled. "Really?! Yay! Mommy and Daddy and me, all connected!"
She twirled in place, giggling with excitement. Me and Merida couldn't help but laugh as we watched her spin around like a top.
I pricked Merida's finger with a small needle I conjured from my storage—a ceremonial one laced with binding magic. As for me… well, no normal blade could pierce my skin, so I bit into my own thumb, letting the blood well up before catching it in a spell-glyph suspended midair.
The magic hummed softly as I mixed our blood together. Then, I gently placed my palm on Moon's forehead and began the infusion. The glyph dissolved into light, sinking into her.
Her small body began to glow faintly, as if the stars themselves had kissed her skin. I closed my eyes, guiding the process with care, reinforcing the magical bond between us all.
When the light faded, I opened my eyes—and was stunned.
Small patches of shimmering scales now adorned her shoulders and forearms, catching the sunlight with iridescent gleam. Her eyes had changed too—narrower, slitted pupils like a dragon's, glowing faintly with mana. She looked stronger. Wilder.
Moon blinked and looked down at herself. "I feel weird... but awesome!"
Then she bolted across the field, running so fast she kicked up dust behind her. She came to a stop by a boulder twice her size—and lifted it off the ground with a shout of triumph.
I laughed in shock. "Well… I guess I won't have to worry about her bullies anymore."
But before I could say anything else, Merida stormed over, hands on her hips.
"Young lady!" she snapped. "That is extremely dangerous. Put that boulder down right now!"
Moon flinched, then hurriedly set the boulder down with a thud. "I'm sorry, Mommy..."
I stood there, stunned. "...Holy shit."
Merida turned and raised an eyebrow at me.
I pointed at Moon. "How come she listens to you but not me? And how did you even get into the 'mom' role that fast? You just became one, like, five minutes ago!"
Merida crossed her arms and smirked, clearly pleased with herself. "It's called instinct. You wouldn't understand."
Moon giggled and ran over, hugging Merida's leg. "Mommy's scary when she yells. But I like it!"
I mock-pouted. "This is betrayal. Absolute betrayal. I created you."
Moon stuck her tongue out. "But Mommy's cooler."
Merida laughed, and I sighed in defeat—but inside, I was smiling too.
This wasn't just a moment.
This was family.
And for the first time in a long time, I felt something warm and solid growing inside me. Not just power. Not just duty.
Belonging.