Table of Kings
First Draft
Fourth Scene

Just as a heads up: I've never read the HTTYD books, or watched the TV or Netflix series (I'm a bit of an animation snob, I'm ashamed to say), so almost everything I take as canon for HTTYD comes from the two movies. I have made extensive use of the HTTYD wiki, however, and apparently Book!Hiccup was quite the swordfighter. I wish there had been more opportunity in HTTYD2 to showcase Hiccup's obvious skill with the Dragon Blade, but alas. I did take the opportunity to give Hiccup a "traditional" sword of his own...

Having completed the routine to his satisfaction, and dripping with sweat even in the cold morning air, Mackintosh finally picked up his pride and joy, the claymore sword Stab Blooder.

He was halfway through his swordplay routine when he noticed the hair on the back of his neck rise. He turned to find the High Chief leaning against a nearby fence, a silvery sword slung over his shoulder.

"Nice moves," he called, a crooked grin on his face.

"Thank ye, Chief," Mackintosh replied. "Been practicin' since Ah was a wee bairn. Placed first in the DunBroch Games last four years runnin'."

"Impressive," the Chief acknowledged with a nod. "What kind of sword is that? I've never seen one that long before."

Mackintosh grinned and twirled Stab Blooder with a flourish. "A Highland Claymore, Chief, best sword in the world," he declared. "Fancy a try?"

The Chief shrugged, but Mackintosh could see the excited light in his green eyes. He leaned his own sword against the fence, lithely faulted over it, and strode over to the Scot with nary a limp, despite his interesting looking peg leg. Impressed despite himself, Mackintosh handed over his sword for the other man's inspection.

To his surprise, the High Chief went over it like a blacksmith, barely blinking at the weight despite his weediness, testing the balance on a finger, and giving it a few swings.

"Yer corriejukit!" Mackintosh exclaimed.

The Chief paused in mid-swing, looking at Mackintosh blankly. "Come again?"

"Yer corriejukit- ye go wi' yer lef' hand, 'stead o' yer righ'," Mackintosh explained. "Aren't many men can do tha', and do it well. Did ye teach yerself tha'?"

"Nope, born that way," the Chief replied briskly, handing the sword back. "Took a good fifteen years for my combat teachers to figure it out- or if they knew, they ignored it. A few even claimed it was proof that I was the spawn of Loki or something."

"Loki?" Mackintosh asked.

"God of Chaos and Mischief," the Chief answered, retrieving his sword. "Wanna spar?"

"My pleasure, Chief," Mackintosh replied, grinning. "Shall we?"

With barely a breath, the Viking attacked, and Mackintosh barely got his sword up in time to prevent the Chief from taking off his head. What followed was the fiercest practice spar Mackintosh had ever participated in. The Chief was fast- especially for a man with only one leg. Just to see what would happen, Mackintosh took a swipe at that fancy peg leg, and got a punch in the face for his trouble, even as the Viking's sword hand blocked the strike.

Finally, the Chief disarmed Mackintosh and pinned him to the ground, with his blade barely a hairsbreadth from the Scot's throat.

"That was great!" The Chief enthused, bouncing back up and pulling Mackintosh to his feet with a strength that belied his slim, willowy frame. "I haven't had a spar like that in years! I've never really considered myself the real warrior type, but man, that was actually really fun! We're gonna have to do that again sometime!"

Mackintosh watched the Viking with a bemused smile on his face. "Tha' was a good figh', Chief," he said, dusting off his leggings and retrieving his sword. "Ah havenae had anyain bes' me like tha' in a great long time. Guess yer nae so bad after all."

The Chief raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Gee, thanks, my lord," he drawled. "I wasn't aware I had such a bad rep down south."

Mackintosh shrugged. "Ah was fully expectin' tae be blown tae kingdom come afore ye could say 'dragon!'," he replied. "Ye Vikings do have a wee bit o' a legend fer bein' righ' bloodthirsty buggers."

"That's true," the Chief sighed. "I've been trying to change that, but it's pretty hard to go against a few centuries worth of instinct and tradition. That's actually part of the reason I'm coming to DunBroch with you. If I can convince your queen that Vikings aren't all bad, it would go a long way towards convincing my people that we don't have to fight anymore."

"Well, ye've changed my mind, Chief," Mackintosh said, extending a hand for the Viking to shake. "Ah'll help ye anyway Ah can."

"Thank you, Lord Mackintosh," the Chief said, grasping Mackintosh's hand and giving it a firm shake. "We'd better start getting ready to go, the sun'll be up in about half an hour. I'll show you back down to the docks in a little bit."

"Aye, Chief, we'll be ready," Mackintosh nodded.

"See you in a bit!" The Chief hefted his sword and jogged off, waving.

Mackintosh watched him leave, chuckling to himself, before turning and going back into the hall to wake up his men.