Sciences Participating with Arts & Culture in Education

The Crown

Her long, tangled hair fell softly down her bare back and stopped precisely where her strawberry colored scales began to cover the bottom half of her body. It was uneven, as if she had attempted to cut her hair on her own and, having failed miserably, achieved this result.

She had brushed it that morning in preparation for the big ceremony that awaited her. She had, of course, no plastic combs floating around, and instead had had to use her fingers, to no avail.

Seahorses flew past her window with a flash of coral red. She had a recklessness about her. She had spent too many years trying to be perfect. But by now she’d given up trying no only to be perfect but to be average either. She had an air of carefree youth that seemed it would last long into adulthood. She looked to be about seventeen years old, although, from head to fin, she was long for her age.

She had not gotten much sleep that night for, through her dreams, her subconscious would not cease to bring her past engagements ashore every time she closed her eyes. She would see them so clearly, so vividly, but she no longer had the luxury of waking up from such nightmares and running into the room where her father slept peacefully, and thus she was unable to rest. She simply lay in her room, every night, alone.

The castle would be empty if not for her presence, she its sole inhabitant. Even with her presence, however, the house still felt vacant, her inner emptiness merely adding to the castle’s overall desolation. This fortress, which just a few days ago had belonged to her father, now belonged to her. Her mother had always told her that riches would not bring happiness, but the authority of her words had been lost in her mother’s actions, and she grew up nonetheless to believe that wealth and pleasure were synonymous. Her father, the former king, had bathed in his possessions, and she grew up believing that once the throne was rightfully hers, she would be happy.

Something in her plans must have gone awry.

Ever since that night, her mind had been ceaselessly haunted by her conscience bickering with her desire over whether or not she had had the right to gain possession of the throne. Her actions seemed to prove her undeserving of such honor. After some days, however, she was able to silence this inner voice and allow a louder one to persuade her of her entitlement.

She got up this morning nonetheless tired and groggy, to attend her coronation, the kingdom now belonging to her. Against the faint disappointment of her father not being present to congratulate her, she told herself she was being silly. She knew it was she herself who had made the choice between her father and her throne.

She missed her father dearly but did not regret her actions in the slightest. She had a purpose for everything she did, and this was no exception.

She sat upright in her room; the same room she had grown up in. She had to make a decision. She swam towards her mirror and amidst the clearing swirl of bubbles looked at her reflection for the first time in many days. She tried to imagine what she would look like with a crown on her head. Actually, she knew what she would look like; she had often tried on her father’s crown when she was growing up. What she really wondered was how she would feel and whether or not she wanted to find out.

A knock on her door interrupted her thoughts. “Merida?”

She let out an audible sigh, wondering when her mother would at last stop intruding in every moment of her life. She missed her father in this moment more than ever.

Her mother had immediately taken off at the news of her father’s death. It seemed she had chosen today to finally return.

Unwillingly, Merida opened the door to her mother who looked even more worried than herself. Her lip was quivering and she knew that her mother, the only person she knew who was tougher than her father, was about to cry. Before she could do anything, her mother broke into her room and sunk into the bed, sobbing.

The overwhelming stress of everything that had happened until now suddenly dawned on Merida, and she knew that something was very wrong. It felt as if in one fleeting moment, she had single-handedly defeated both of her parents, and she feared the immensity of her power.

Her mother’s sobbing got louder and Merida could no longer contemplate her own actions. She could only think of one reason why her mother was in such distress and the look in her eyes confirmed her suspicions.

Her mother had undoubtedly figured out what she had done and had come here to confront her about it.

Her mind was throbbing; she began to panic. She had been reckless to think her mother would not realize that what had happened to her husband was not an accident, and that there were few people who would have a motive. Her father had been a beloved king for many years, so the list of suspects could not have been a long one to decipher. Her mother, she knew, had finally found the culprit. She could not bring herself to approach her, so she remained there, near the door.

She had to make a decision. Her life so far had proved that she was capable of anything. She would not let her mother get in the way of what she had been fighting for. She heard some distant shuffling and whispering and knew that the time to claim her throne was approaching. She had to act, but before she could open her mouth, her mother spoke:

“I won’t let you.”

That was it. Those were the words that marked the beginning of Merida’s final challenge. She knew well enough that with a few words to the clownfish at a press conference, her mother could reveal everything and Merida would be ousted from the kingdom. She laughed at the thought of it.

She had sacrificed her father for this very day.

The idea of all her hard work being stolen by her mother. And so easily­­! Somehow she could not fathom it. She swam closer to her mother now and crossed her arms. Her mother got off the bed. I felt as though the entire ocean was between them, and Merida remembered the look her father had given her when she had seen him for the last time. Her mother’s look was different; she knew what Merida was capable of.

Her mother had a look of determination that she had only seen modeled in her own mirror. It was no longer a question of morality; it was one of fairness. She could not let her mother take what she had fought for.

Her mother suddenly smiled. “You better get ready, Merida. A queen is never late.” With that, she left.

Merida was wise enough to know that it could never be that easy, but her mother was right and it would probably be easiest for her to deal with matters with a crown on her head. She took a final look in the mirror and quickly swam to the doors of the castle, where outside the whole population had gathered for the ceremony. She felt excited but something still felt wrong, like the feeling wasn’t hers to have. She dismissed it and gave a quick nod to the guards who opened the doors.

Oddly, there was nobody there.

Merida heard someone behind her and turned around to see her mother who had changed her scales to black ones.

“The funeral was supposed to be tomorrow,” Merida said, confused.

“I had it changed, the coronation will be tomorrow” was her mother’s only response.

Merida grew furious as she watched her mother swim away to attend her husband’s burial. She had worked so hard for this very moment, but it was lost. Her mother had been back for only a few hours and had already destroyed the most important day of her life. She followed her mother’s waves to where the funeral was being held and when she got there, she saw all the people her mother was able to control. She had no one left on her side.

Her mother took her place, but Merida remained at the entrance as every creature in the room stared at her. Whispering began and Merida felt like she had lost all power.

She looked down at herself and tried to figure out what she had done wrong. Her dark red scales suddenly looked blindingly bright next to everyone else’s black ones. She didn’t belong here anymore. But that would not stop her. Her anger swelled as she gave her mother a piercing look.

She made a quick decision. Everyone watched in shock as she swam up to where her father’s body lay and grabbed the crown that was still on his head. She felt no pity or remorse as she lifted it and lowered in onto her own head, where it belonged.