Notes: The Norns are beings who ruled over the Fate of Gods and Mankind in Norse Mythology. Let's pretend Hiccup's mother died when he was 5, and the movie took place when he was 15-16.
The Norns had always considered themselves fair beings.
They considered themselves unbiased, observant and were always listening for someone who prayed hard enough to be heard by them. If someone prayed hard enough, the Norns would answer their prayers; that was how it was with them. Requests from Mortals were rare because most of the time, their prayers were pathetic, halfhearted and weak attempts that could only be classified as complaints. They knew many people prayed, but few prayed hard enough to be heard. The three sisters lived far from the Mortals at the foot of the ash tree, Yggdrasil, so only loud Voices were ever heard, if any at all.
The Norns were lonely beings, despite Yggdrasil being the same place where they lived and where the other gods gathered. The gods avoided the Norns because it was almost unthinkable to them that any being could be more powerful than themselves. Was it fear, perhaps? Fear that there were beings who not only controlled the fates of the puny mortals, but also their own?
Like many days, when they were not busy preventing the large ash tree from decaying, the three sisters were spinning Threads of Life and weaving Destiny. It was an easy task after centuries and centuries of practice, but also long, laborious and boring work.
"Sisters, can you hear Voices, or am I dreaming?" the youngest Norn asked suddenly whispered, breaking the easy silence. She stopped her weaving as she tried to distinguish the voices from each other. The Voices were quiet, and could not even be considered whispers yet, but she heard them.
The middle sister almost dismissed her sister's comment as a weak excuse to get out of work, but then she heard it too. She stopped spinning Threads of Life. "Yes, I hear them as well," she whispered in mild surprise.
The eldest of the three did not stop weaving Destiny. She usually ignored her sisters when they conversed about topics that did not pertain to Yggdrasil or their work, but the problem of Voices being loud enough to be heard were unignorable, especially if it was loud enough for all three of them to hear it. "As do I. The Voices are loud," she admitted reluctantly.
Skuld, the youngest, spoke up again. "Sisters, I have not heard such loud Voices from Berk since many years ago."
Verdandi, the middle sister agreed. Her eyes glossed over as her memories flooded her with information. "10 years ago was the loudest their voices ever became."
Urd, the eldest, didn't react to the fact. "10 years comes and goes for us in the blink of an eye."
The youngest Norn could barely think about her work as the Voices grew louder and louder until they were almost like loud whispers in her ears. Skuld knew her sisterrs noticed the Voices were becoming louder. Verdandi's eyes became more distant as words became more distinct, while Urd's expression hardened as she tried to prevent it from affecting her work.
Skuld knew they could all hear the strength of the prayers, because strong prayers were loud prayers.
Small details from millenniums ago were still fresh in Skuld's mind, as if it had just occurred, so remembering something from a decade ago was not hard task. Like her sisters, she remembered everything perfectly. The loudest Berk had ever been was 10, almost 11 years ago, but the Voices began whispering 16, 17 years ago, when two Vikings from Berk were married. After the Viking Chief and his new wife had spoken their vows, the praying begun. Nearly all the unwed women in the village began praying for his new wife to die so they could take her place.
Verdandi nodded in agreement to her little sister's thoughts. "Yes, they prayed hard then. Quiet at first, but persistent. Their Voices grew louder and louder."
Urd scowled in a graceful and refined sort of way, befitting her status as the eldest of the Norns. "But they were not grateful when we answered them," she murmured. "After we granted their request, they stopped praying and did not thank us for the woman's death."
Skuld nodded. "Because after her funeral, the newly widowed Chief of Berk refused to remarry."
Verdandi stared at her work, but her thoughts were far away. "Because he loved his wife and already had an heir. That little boy with the pretty green eyes."
Urd's scowl became more define at the memory of the village women who prayed. "Because they were dissatisfied with our decision. Rude. Impolite. Ungrateful," she said calmly, but vehemently.
"Not our fault," Skuld continued.
"Freyja would not allow us to spoil such a love," Verdandi added.
Freyja was the goddess of love, among other things, and was very insistent that he not remarry. Insistent enough to promise she would bring a jug of mead to share with them the next time she visited. Urd blamed that moment of weakness on Skuld, who, despite being millions of years old, still yearned for contact with other beings.
When they wove Destiny, it was like retrying a story with only the most important details, details that would lead to an end point they had created. Major events or turning points that influenced fate as a whole were defined by them as well in their weaving. Those major events provided lines and shapes for the gods to colour in. As long as the gods stayed inside the lines, they could do whatever they wanted.
However, the marriage of Berk's chieftain was not one of those empty spaces for the gods to 'colour' in. And so Freyja asked them for a favour, putting the goddess into a debt Urd was sure she would not repay. Not that she cared. But Skuld certainly did.
The three of them all knew that they should not answer the Voices from Berk. Ungrateful, impolite and rude Mortals should not be rewarded, lest they think their actions are acceptable. And 10 years ago was not the first time Berk has showed the Norns such ungratefulness. Many times before that, the people had prayed to the Norns to ask them for certain outcomes and specific futures, but each time the Norns granted their requests, they were not thanked, and oftentimes, they were cursed.
Was it their fault? They merely granted requests. What the requests were was something entirely up to the Mortals who prayed, the Voices who were loud enough to reach their ears. The Norns were glad requests for their help only occurred maybe thrice every couple centuries.
The three returned to their silence, but the Voices did not stop. The Voices' constant whispering were like insects buzzing in their ears, practically begging to be noticed and indulged.
Skuld found the Voices intriguing, but then again, she found everything intriguing. Her mind was almost childlike with how she viewed things. Something as simple as a cup could be fascinating to her. Mortals were her favourite among things that spiked her curiosity, because they were beings she ruled over with Fate, but had no real interaction with. Like a King who did not leave his castle to see his subjects.
Verdandi found the Voices annoying. She wanted quiet. The silence was a small sanctuary for a mind like her's that wandered constantly. With the persistent Voices nagging her, she could not help but wonder what she and her sisters could do to make it go away. She wondered what had happened for them to begin praying, wondered if they understood what they were asking. She wished for the silence to return so that she may return to wandering in her own thoughts. At the moment, her thoughts were chasing after the the Voices, like a fish being lured along by bait on a string. With the Voices becoming louder and louder, she had no control over where her thoughts went, and although she did not mind much, she still preferred being lost in the sea of her own thoughts.
Urd didn't mind the noises. She was an expert at ignoring and dismissing sounds she did not want to hear; having a curious sister that questioned everything, and another that constantly wondered aloud provide her with excellent practice. She wanted to be able to spin and weave with precision and care, but the Voices were hindering her ability to do so. She knew Skuld would be too distracted by the Voices to weave as carefully as she was suppose to, and Verdandi would be too lost thinking about the Voices to spin delicate threads.
She sighed. As the eldest, she had to do something about the lack of work. And so she made her decision.
"Sisters, do you hear what they pray for?" Urd asked. It would take her full concentration to decipher the Voices, but would mean stopping her work, so it was faster to ask her sisters. She does not stop weaving, because if she did, combined with her sisters' lack of work, she feared they would be pushed further behind schedule by another 1000 years.
"The healers of Berk pray for fulfillment," Verdandi answered without pause.
"They wish to do more than heal minor burns and cure common maladies," Skuld added.
Urd nodded. "Then sisters, we will grant them their request."
Verdandi stared absently into the distance. "What with? Shall we send them a plague?"
Skuld stared at the ground as if it would give her an answer. "Perhaps a disaster of some kind?"
The eldest of the Norns finally stopped weaving to convey to her sisters her plans. "Berk's healers want to be able to do their jobs to the fullest of their abilities, and so they shall."
Her two younger sisters stared at her for a moment before they understood.
…
It isn't long before the preparations were completed. Changing Destiny and Fate wasn't as hard as many would think. They do not change it often, because some requests would change too much of the rest of the cloth. Having to re-weave an entire bolt of cloth was a troublesome task because that would also require spinning new Threads of Life.
But what the healers of Berk prayed for was simple, and would not affect the course of Destiny all that much, especially since Berk was such an isolated island.
Verdandi finished spinning the last of the Threads, and Urd finished weaving the last bit of cloth. Then Skuld inspected their work carefully, because even the smallest flaw could prove to be damaging to the future. But it really wasn't necessary because Urd would never make such a detrimental mistake.
The three then left from their spot under Yggdrasil, and found a pool of water. They willed it to show them Berk, and the ripples soon revealed what was happening on the island. Vikings and Dragons were everywhere, frantically trying to protect their home against the invaders. The people of Berk were lost, confused. They didn't understand what was happening, didn't understand what started all of this.
But it was obvious to the sisters what was going on.
Invasion. Blood. .
A neighbouring village had stolen Berk's secrets to Dragon Training and were now waging war against Berk for better land and resources. It has only been 4 years since Vikings and Dragons made peace in Berk, and it seemed that the Vikings were already out of practice. Their movements were shaky, and their aim was off. Weapons were few in number because it was no longer a necessity in the daily life of a Viking on Berk. Right now, it seemed the only thing preventing the invaders from taking over Berk were natives' knowledge of the terrain and Berk's Dragon Riders.
Skuld watched, transfixed as the events played out. She had found something that caught her attention as she watched the battle down below. A young man was on a black dragon, flying through the air with a finesse and grace as if he was the wind itself. He used the wind currents to his advantage, as if he knew exactly where they were and where they went. He led a fleet of Dragons Riders that followed with the same fluidity. She wondered if he was special enough to survive. Special enough to know better than to lay down his life for others. Wondered if it would be the invasion that would break him, or the aftermath when he would count the each member of his tribe who'd died. She wished she had paid more attention to the cloth. Maybe if she ha, she would know and would not be wondering what would happen next. But it wasn't her fault, necessarily. The cloth was not interesting at all. She had been staring at similar things for the past millions of years, because after all, history did repeat itself.
Verdandi's thoughts were elsewhere even though her eyes were trained on the pool of water. She did not know the details of the new Destiny her sisters had woven because she only spun Threads of Life. She did not know who would die, who would live, who would rise up and make a name for themselves, and certainly did not know how this insignificant battle would end. The Invaders' Dragons were not as well trained as Berk's, but there were nearly three times as many Dragons and Invaders than Berk, with advanced weaponry and years of ware dare experience. Berk's Vikings had the advantage of knowing the layout of the land and had skilled Dragons and Riders, and an even stronger leader, but their weapons were almost primitive compared to their opponent's.
Urd watched with dis interest. Unlike Skuld and Verdandi, she knew exactly what would happen, She knew that Berk would win. Their new Chief would go down in history for his bravery and intelligence, and would lead his village to victory. She knew many around him would die, and those who survived, including the young chief, would be haunted for the years to come. She knew they would write about this day, tell their children about the day so-called metal giants with dragons had attacked them and slaughtered their parents, grandparents, great-grandparents and so on. She knew the young chief would blame the death of his wife, friends and aging father on the healers of Berk that had brought the war upon them.
She watched as Berk's healers panicked and ran back and forth, darting to and fro. They were all over the place, trying to give first aid to the wounded and save the lives of the fallen.
The village healers were frenzied with fear, delirious with despair, and tormented because deep inside each of their hearts, they knew they were the ones who had caused all of this. They would be torn by guilt, and it would destroy them from the inside. Then Berk would fall, because she and her sisters would not allow the gods to save them by coloring in the spaces between their lines. Because after the war, guilt and hate would slowly destroy them over the next couple centuries, bringing an end to the Hairy Hooligan Tribe.
Just as Urd hoped it would.
Because they were the ones who prayed to the Norns for a chance to do their jobs. She and her sisters had no choice but to answer, despite knowing they would be cursed later on. But, really, all they had to blame for their downfall was themselves.
Urd sighed.
If only getting their weaving back on schedule was as easy as destroying a tribe.
A/N: Was originally suppose a compilation of one-shots, but my muse seems to have left me and leaving it as an incomplete project not only seems a bit unnecessary and cruel, but also seems to mock me.