And here we are. The final battle. The climax. The moment everyone has been waiting for. Its going to span several chapters so that I can get everything in that I want, so don't worry. There will be more to it than one chapter.
Without further ado, enjoy.
There was nowhere to run. Pinned between the nest and Drago's fleet, the Vikings of Berk were effectively trapped. The only way out was through the gigantic mass of ships now stalking menacingly towards them like a vast, dark storm cloud, implacable, hungry, and menacing.
Still, large as Drago's army was, they were in for a surprise.
The Berkians were more than ready for a fight.
After the long days of sailing, waiting in anticipation for a battle, only to find there had been none to be had, they had no way to release the all of their pent up, nervous energy. Some men were nervously wringing the handles of axes and swords, while others shifted their weight from one foot to the other, gazing left and right as if expecting an enemy to appear at any moment.
And when that enemy did appear, they were more than ready. The Chief knew the banner of Drago Bludvist, and so there was no question as to whether or not the approaching ships were friend or foe.
As soon as Drago's fleet came into view, an enemy they could actually see, they attacked with unmatched gusto.
Catapults that had been aimed at the mountain turned to face the sea, and the sky hummed as boulders wizzed through the air. Anyone of Drago's men unlucky enough to be in the direct path of that first volley of boulders was crush instantly. Many more were injured was the giant stones rebounded wildly off the deck.
But what the boulders didn't do was cause significant damage to the ships themselves. The gigantic black ships of Drago's fleet were not built for speed, but for war. Moreover, they were made to withstand attacks even from dragons if they had to, and so they weathered the beating more or less with ease.
It was only when their ships reached the shore that thing got truly bloody. For Drago Bludvist continued to drive his men on, and would not accept retreat. He meant to take this island. No matter how many men he sacrificed to do it.
The trappers were practically throwing themselves out of the ships to get at the Berkians, sloshing through the shallows as they drew their weapons, screaming all the while. The first few minutes were the most bloody, as Drago's men fought to gain the shore, only to be held back and slaughtered as they floundered in the cold sea water. By the dozens they came, wave upon wave of them, desperately trying to force their opponents back onto even footing.
That is when Drago unleashed his dragons.
Leaping out from the ships and streaking over the waters like miniature comets, they tore over top of the Berkain lines, raining down fire and worse on the defenders. They tried to fight back, but the fact that the dragons only attacked in swift, strafing runs made them hard to hit, much less hurt. And the fact that Drago's trappers were continuing to push forwards relentlessly was simply too much for them to handle.
The Berkians were forced back a step. Then another. And another. And more after that, until those at the rear of the crowd had their backs pressed against the ice wall of the nest.
That was when the Nest struck back. With inhuman ferocity.
A collective roar tore forth from hundreds of reptilian throats as the dragons of the nest poured forth in streams, a living rainbow of colors streaking out to battle. Nearly every dragon native to the Archipelago (and more than a few that weren't) could be picked out from that gigantic flock, each and every one of them bellowing out their fury to the those who would dare invade their home.
The Berkians could only stare in astonishment as that aerial onslaught passed right over them without a second thought. Even more amazingly… they did not similarly pass by Drago's forces, but instead, began raining their own attacks down on the trappers. It was as if the dragons of the nest somehow knew that the Berkians were not supposed to be their enemies and that Drago's forces were.
Which, to a Berkian's thinking, was clearly impossible. And yet, here it was.
The dragons of the sanctuary quickly evened the odds in the battle, for while Drago's army outnumbered the Berkians, Valka's dragons outnumbered Drago's, and the comparative strength in the skies quickly brought the fight to a standstill.
Or at least, if would have been, if not for the fact that one of the armies was Drago's. Whatever their enemy might be, the trappers feared their own master for more than they feared death. And when Drago gave the order that there would be no retreat, his men had no choice but to press forward.
And so, the battle continued.
Brutal. Bloody. And constant.
But it didn't hold a candle to what came next.
A roar like no other broke through the din of battle, a roar that cause everyone, dragon and human alike, to flinch and hesitate for a fraction of a second. For that roar was so vast, so deep, so resonating, that it shook the ground, the air, and the water for a mile in every direction. For those closest to the mountain, the roar could literally be felt, a shockwave that rippled over the crowd and tossed up powdery snow all across the island.
It was the territorial bellow of a Bewilderbeast. The mere sound of it was terrifying enough, but the sight of it was something else entirely.
At first, some of the men wondered why a part of the mountain seemed to be moving. Until they realized what they were seeing was the Alpha's crest on the back of its head, rising up from the nest as a herald of the titanic beast. The sheer size of it was absolutely staggering, hundreds of tons of muscle flesh, and scales. It tore its way out of the gigantic ice spires like they were twigs instead of icicles thicker then tree trunks. As it descended, it exhaled, breathing out a great gout of icy cold water that smashed into Drago's lines, scattering men and machines of war alike before freezing in mid splash.
Then it smashed into the army like a living battering ram, and nothing could stand it its way.
Or so the defenders of the nest believed.
Drago was stunned by the turn of events.
As was his way, he led his men into battle personally, right in the front lines, close enough to the front lines to stare his enemies in the eye, close enough to watch the ebb and flow of the battle. Close enough, even, to engage his enemies directly.
Many things Drago might be, but he was no coward.
And he still had complete confidence in his plan. He saw the titanic Alpha dragon smashing into his lines, tossing men and armored dragons about like broken rag dolls. There was nothing his men could do to even slow that thing, let alone kill it.
But then, Drago had not expected them to. That was what his other weapon was for.
And after their alpha was dead, it wouldn't matter that the Berkians were there to fight. Nothing else would matter.
Even the Valkyrie wouldn't be enough to stop him. Perhaps he might even be able to catch her alive again. The thought pleased Drago greatly.
Whether she ended up alive or dead, she would not escape him a second time.
Grinning manically, Drago turned back towards the ocean and started screaming wordlessly, swinging his signature weapon, a long, worn bullhook, over his head.
The waters surged and bulged upwards as something huge moved beneath the surface…
Astrid knew something was wrong.
She, along with Hiccup, Mira, Balder, and Blade, had sallied forth out of the nest with all of the other hundreds of dragons, and so far, their attack seemed to be inflicting a heavy toll on their opponent. Astrid, sitting behind Hiccup in Toothless's saddle, had a view of exactly how much damage they were inflicting, which was considerable indeed. Entire ships now lay smoldering in the water, slowly sinking as the ocean reached up hungrily to claim them. And on the land, it was little better, with large swaths of ground now scorched black, and huge piles of ash where catapults and net launchers had once stood.
And yet, something made Astrid uneasy.
Even if the Berkian forces had choosen to fight the sanctuary at weaken it, Drago still didn't have anything in his arsenal that could take down the Alpha dragon. Yet, even after Valka had directed that king of dragons to emerge and defend his home, no retreat was sounded. Though Drago's men did make a point of moving out of the way of that rampaging titan, they did not seem as if they were intimidated by it as they should.
That, and Drago's dragons did not answer to the Alpha's call.
In all her years in the living in the Dragon's Nest, Astrid had never once seen a dragon that was able to resist a Bewilderbeast's call so readily, though he had rarely used it in the years Astrid had known him. No amount of stubbornness, defiance, or willpower could counter the almost hypnotic effect an Alpha's call could have on dragons. By design of nature, they could not resist.
Yet those armored dragons they now battled were doing just that.
Which was impossible.
Unless…
And then, Astrid saw it.
At first, it looked like no more than an unnaturally large wave, rising more and more as it approached the shore. The ships near the beach were shoved upwards and to the side of that strange wave, even as it continued to swell, gaining in height by the second.
And beneath that wave, something big… no, not big, but something gigantic, moved.
It broke the surface, and Astrid could not contain her gasp of horror.
It was a second Bewilderbeast, a grey-skinned one in contrast to the others pristine white scales.
So, Astrid thought, Drago doesn't control all of those dragons. He only needs to control one.
Suddenly, the battle seemed much more daunting.
And the stakes were suddenly much higher.
"Hiccup" Astrid whispered "We have to find your mom. Fast."
Valka was no less horrified by the appearance of the second Bewliderbeast than Astrid was, and had an even greater knowledge of the implications. How Drago managed to find a Bewilderbeast, let alone control one, was a mystery to Valka. Even she could not exert any significant control over the one living in the nest, should it come to that. Oh, sure she could ask for its aid in its times of need, but she could no more force it to do anything against its will than she could sprout her own set of wings and fly.
And yet Valka doubted Drago would simply be asking for aid. No, in every one of his minions, Drago demanded total obedience.
Valka swung her staff over her head, directing the entourage of dragons surrounding her to move forward and engage Drago's Alpha. Strong as they were, Bewilderbeast's were not fast dragons. If she could distract it long enough for their own Bewilderbeast to crush Drago's army, then there would be more dragons free to come to their aid.
A dozen or so dragons flocked around Cloudjumper in response to Valka's signal, even as they arrowed towards the dark titan emerging from the water. They moved into a tight V formation, with the Stormcutter leading, diving straight for the face of the leviathan, who had now set his eyes upon them.
"We don't need to kill it, Cloudjumper" Valka told her dragon, having to shout over the sound of the wind rushing past them "We only need to keep it busy."
The distance was short, and they closed with incredible speed, such that it only took a moment before Valka could make out every scale on their opponents face. Cloudjumper let out a roar of challenge-
-and then, just as suddenly, all the dragons in Valka's impromptu attack squad wheeled, shooting back the way they came. Valka nearly lost her footing on her dragons back, though after her footing was regained, she couldn't make them turn around again. None of the dragons, not even Couldjumper, would listen to her. They
For such was the command of their own Alpha, who wished to protect. His roar resounded over the stones once again, a clear challenge to the one who would seek to wrest away his rule. His counterpart responded with an equally load roar, full of hate and pure viciousness.
They plodded towards each other on gigantic feet, each step causing a rumble like thunder. Each of them reiterated their challenge with a mighty bellow, and when neither of them would concede, they closed the remaining distance. Their long tusks locked together, and so began the battle of the two Alphas, a battle that would, almost certainly, determine the fate of the dragons nest.
Erik hardly cared about the battle raging on around him. Perched on the back of his new dragon, he scoured the battle field, flying high and out of the way of the main battle. For the most part, he saw little action, though he occasionally happened to be in the path of some dragon that had chosen to flee in jus the right direction to bring it to him.
When that happened he and his nadder- Stormfly, he had heard his sister call it- made them regret their error.
But he was looking for one dragon rider in particular.
He picked out each of them among the teaming mass swirling above the battle field. The Boneknapper rider, the Changewing rider, and the Thunderdrum rider. He ignored those ones, for they were not his goal. Drago had ordered him to hunt down and crush any of the dragon riders he could should he get the opportunity, but he didn't even give those other a second glance.
No, it took him a bit longer to search out the one he wanted.
Then, just as the twin Bewilderbeasts clashed, he spotted them.
Three riders upon two dragons. On one, the stormcutter, was the woman, the wife of the chief, swinging her staff and using it to direct the sanctuary's dragons every which way. On the other dragon, the night fury, was the boy.
And Astrid.
With twin roars, Stormfly and Erik dove towards those two dragons.
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