A/N i saw a pretty picture of flowers so i wrote this



"What do ye think ye're doin'?"

"Nothing." Elsa says dismissively, eyebrows furrowing in concentration as she moves this particularly frustrating curl out of the way.

"This doesn't feel like nothin'."

"Shhh. I'm in my zone. An artist must not be disturbed. And the artwork shouldn't be criticizing the artist."

"But I-"

Elsa's hand stills in Merida's hair, as she looks down and fixes her with one of her most practiced and steely glares.

Merida gulps slightly and bites her lip in acquiescence. Almost immediately Elsa's demeanor shifts from intimidating to adorable, as she returns to the garden that has flourished in Merida's hair.

"It's just that usually when you're in my lap, it's something more exciting than you putting flowers in my hair."

Elsa chuckles, but doesn't falter from Merida's insinuation as she normally would. Internally (and externally, actually), Merida curses. Anything that was related to sex was normally enough to get Elsa blushing until she blended in with Merida's hair. But not today; Elsa was adamant to make a field in the crown of Merida's head.

Merida's fingers tap an uneven beat across Elsa's waist as the other girl primped the circle of flowers that was encircling Merida's tresses.

When Elsa burst into the girl's room that morning and jumped on her (Elsa may have a slight figure but she also has bones and sharp angles at fast speeds hurt okay), Merida was excited, to say the least.

But once Elsa said that her hyacinths bloomed and 'just imagine how lovely they would look in your hair!', Merida had mentally tapped out.

"Ye know, I didn' invite ye to live 'ere so tha' ye could plant flowers and attack me with them."

"One," Elsa said, emphasizing her statement with a playful tug of one of Merida's curls, "you did say something along the lines of, oh I don't remember, 'thee Sco'ish glens are tha' greenes' laends in tha woorld!'

"I don' soun' like tha'."

"Yes you do. We've been dating for a while now; I'm pretty that I have your accent figured out."

"Me accent is nae tha' thick."

Elsa remained silent, fixing her hands on Merida's shoulders as she allowed the aforementioned statement to sink in. Merida pouted.

"Okay maybe a little."

Elsa laughed, giving Merida a quick kiss on the nose and flicking it once Merida decided to wrinkle her nose in pseudo-disgust.

"Don't worry, I find it endearing."

"Yeh, yeh wha'ever."

"Anyway, as I was saying. Two, you said that I could have a garden if I moved here."

"...I may 'ave said tha'."

"Mhmm," Elsa hums pleasantly. "Three, you said my flowers were looking pretty."

"Well yeh, but I didn' think ye were gonna put them on me!"

"But you look so cute!"

At this Merida's eyes narrowed, and she removed her hands from Elsa's waist to cross her arms petulantly across her chest.

"I am nae cute."

Feeling empowered by the rare swap or roles, Elsa wraps her arms around Merida's shoulders and draws her close enough to rest her lips on a rapidly reddening cheek.

"You are absolutely adorable. But don't worry; I won't tell yer big bad archery friends that you have a secret sweet side that loves having flowers in her hair. Even though I don't think they would care; Andreas has been looking for a perfect birdbath for the past week."

Merida shudders at the feel of Elsa's warm breath so exceptionally close and curses herself for allowing this relationship to take a toll on her badass streak.

"I don' love it," she half-heartedly mumbles, acquiescing and allowing her hands to reclaim their home on Elsa's sides.

Elsa kisses Merida's cheek and draws back, relishing the rare sight of her bashful girlfriend. "Mhmm, which is why you haven't taken them off yet."

"Well I-I didn't wan' teh ruin yer hard work an' all."

"Sure; even though we know that you wouldn't have let me put these in your hair unless you liked the idea."

"Maybe. Maybe I jes' like having ye on top o' me."

"Or maybe you feel pretty with flowers in your hair." Elsa responds without hesitation.

Damn, thinks Merida, I've los' me touch.

"And you do look really pretty Merida." Elsa says, voice devoid of any of the previous teasing and shining with nothing but honesty. Merida smile slightly.

Merida had always been a gem, but she was a gem as an archer, or a drinker, or a politician (even though she swears that politics is her mother's forte and not her own; Elsa's seen her quote Sun Tzu when analyzing art pieces. Seriously, who does that?).

Her mother would have liked her to indulge in her beauty every now and again, but Merida had seen the way people looked at her mother: a cross between respect, admiration and unfiltered awe. And when she looked at her dirt-stained dresses and quivers of arrows and absolutely untamable head or hair, she knew she would never illicit that reaction from a crowd of people.

And she was fine with that.


She's never considered herself to be a gem simply because she was beautiful, and who needed to be beautiful when you could shoot a squirrel in the eye from 100 feet away? Between the two of them, Elsa was the beautiful one, and Merida would always shake her head when Elsa insisted that she beautiful and perfect and all of that lovers' mess.

But some of that has changed, and she's learned to accept Elsa's random and overwhelmingly sweet compliments, day by day.

As she reaches the end of her mental wax poetic (she should really find other reading material other than Elsa's extensive poetry collection; these were starting to get out of hand), Elsa pulls a mirror from Merida's side and shows her her new reflection.

Whether Elsa has secretly been studying the art of ikebana, Merida will never know, but when she sees a row of pale-blue hyacinths neatly place in a semi circle on top of her burning orange hair, she can't help but praise the Japanese.

Elsa was right; the blue of the flowers rests like dust on their petals, and hugs the color of her hair like a friend, making her feel...well...kind of pretty.

Elsa can see Merida's entire thought process in her eyes, and grins so hard that she can feel wrinkles forming in the corners of her mouth but she doesn't care.

"See! I told you that you looked pretty!" Elsa says excitedly as she places a sound kiss on Merida's lips, neither of them upset at the fact that the kiss was ruined because of their insistent smiling.

Seeing Elsa's happiness at her handiwork, but an underlying honesty that Merida will never understand how it comes so easily to her, Merida doesn't put up a fight this time

"I guess ye were righ'."