I do not own Brave or HTTYD.

Chapter Twelve: Reunion

DunBroch

The trip was slow but successful. Hiccup's plan was working and no one seemed to suspect the massive cloud of dragons that flew above a small Berkian fleet that raced through the oceans, drug by great underwater beasts under the ever-changing moon.

Merida was accepted among the females with ease. Ruffnut and Astrid made her an official skjaldmaer, a shield-maiden and presented her with a braided leather circlet that confirmed her position among the women. They decorated shields together and had various competitions amongst them, testing their own skills with their weapons of choice before swapping and admiring each other's ability. Hiccup's suspicions were confirmed to see that she was one of the fiercest fighters he's seen, smeared in mud and blood and equal parts exhilarated and terrifying.

But, despite her ease amongst his people, when Hiccup would retire to a hidden part of whatever island they would rest on for the day, squirreled away from the loud Vikings, she would always seek him out and find him, usually followed by Saorsa. Merida was never surprised to find his shoulders crowded with Terrible Terrors and surrounded by as many different types as she had names for and more. He would point out the ones she had yet seen, showing her how to bare her neck and hand to them before he peeled open the pages of his books, gaining their trust among and knowledge of them. Hiccup was shocked at how she cooed and teased them, as easily accepted amongst them as he was.

He tried to warn her what it would show to the people, his parents especially. If they spent the evenings—well, days, technically—together, they would consider them already married. That kind of relationship, flaunting their privacy and intimacy, claimed that they were as good as expecting. She had shrugged and muttered about how it didn't matter at this point, flashed him a small smile, and went back to playing with a Monstrous Nightmare with a brilliant green hide. That night she pulled him close and draped her tartan over them both before tucking her ringlet covered head into his shoulder with a great sigh of pleasure, their dragons encircling them both, their warm bellies pressed against each's back.

When Scotland stretched, long and dark beneath them, Merida barely recognized the small clusters of clan homes and torch lights that dotted the landscape like stars in the night sky. Quicker than she had expected, DunBroch loomed before them and she was equal parts sickened and relieved to see it.

It was still empty and she was grateful for this, but she knew it would not remain so—they needed to ensure that the compound was protected and the farms were immediately tended to. She strapped iron tillers to Gronckles and helped others bring grain and stores from the castle to get crops in the earth as quickly as possible. It was lucky that most of the potatoes that were in the castle had already begun spouting eyes and were no good for eating so she carved them out with her dagger and showed them all how they must be planted (thank you, Seany Dingwall, for all your letters about the local flora and fauna). They would keep away from the lochs but were free to fish in the ocean, Monstrous Nightmares attached with finely woven nets and sent out with their riders, despite how weary both were. Hiccup and Gobber took up fixing the gate and getting most of the men on repairing the walls while the women farmed.

If the Vikings were anything (besides barbarous), Merida saw they were incredibly hardworking and determined. Everyone, male and female, had various talents and skills and had no problems asking to learn more or receive help regarding whatever needed to be done. Women rolled their sleeves and skirts in the warmer Southern weather as they hammered away at ruined huts and houses while men used their war axes to cut down trees to rebuild whatever could not be fixed.

Stoick and Valka looked into the castle and began righting things, despite her protests. The castle was off-limits, the proclaimed, but they largely ignored her and went about straightening tables and speaking about how it would be the Great Hall and what was in the kitchen that could make an evening meal for enough hungry Vikings. While they discussed hunting what they could in the nearby forests, Merida felt her heart stutter and something she hadn't thought about hit her—

—If the Berk tribe took over DunBroch, would her parents be welcomed back as the rightful King and Queen?

The remaining part of the night was a blur as DunBroch was filled with bright braziers and flames as the sun began to stretch overhead. Still, the villagers continued working, despite having been up all night flying and having been sleeping during the day for nearly two weeks as they traveled with as much stealth as they could manage. Merida was able to keep herself awake with gut wrenching anxiety that Berkians would somehow manage to enter into the castle and begin to raid, just as the others had, but Hiccup was able to keep them in the throne room alone, now their proclaimed Great Hall.

Merida nearly fainted when she arrived, exhausted, for dinner. Stoick and Valka were in her father and mother's seats, respectively, and two were placed on Stoick's left, Hiccup occupying the one closest to his sire. She stumbled and nearly fell, wanting to scream and screech and rant—how dare they sit where they did? They were not gone, they were merely vacant, they would come back and the Berk chief and chieftess were supposed to bow down to the King and Queen of DunBroch.

But would they?

Hiccup noticed her deer-in-a-dragon's-sight expression, standing and taking her hand as he lead her to the dais.

"Breathe," he commanded her, "It's alright. It's not forever, just for now. We'll talk to them."

"Hiccup," she murmured, "What if they do'nae want to?"

He sighed through his nose, "We'll figure it out, alright? Just eat and we'll find somewhere to sleep after."

She had no appetite and was getting sicker as she watched the mess the Vikings made. Someone had managed to find and slaughter a wild boar and they had gutted it, roasting it in the great fireplace by the tables. The smoke was cloying and it stuck the back her throat, making her head swim. Hiccup watched with increasing worry as she choked on tears, wondering if she had done the right thing.

He took her hand again in his and made her stand, leading her away. There were loud choruses of whistles and he made rude gestures behind him as he led her to the room he had stayed in upstairs what seemed like ages ago. Hers still bore the mark of danger and the potion had dried into a brown, molasses like mass that covered over half the floor. She kicked off her shoes and leggings before she curled in the bed, careless of her hair as she sniffled, her legs long and pale against the linen. Hiccup hesitated only briefly before he sat on the side of the bed, shedding his own furred vest and began to unstrap his leg.

The silence stretched between them, knowing and suppressing them both. Hiccup had been right, she felt regret to allow the Viking into her land without any other Scott to keep it even. The dragons were already taking up the woods and mountains, burrowing into the earth and were sure to cause issues if Toothless did not manage to control them and she had no idea how they'd behave once they departed. There would disputes, surely, and what if they did not maintain their part of the bargain? Merida bit her lip to keep from sobbing.

Hiccup leaned over her, seeing her clenched brow and dry, bloodied lip.

"I know it seems a little like it's too much right now, but we can figure this out."

She opened her eyes, dark and gray like low-lying clouds, "Hiccup…"

He waited.

"I never believed I was…someone who gave up. And, admittedly, that's what I saw ye as. Someone that ran. Someone that was scared. But now, I see, I can honestly say I understand—yer just exhausted."

He sighed, getting in bed next to her and staring at the back of her head, the various shades of her ringlets.

"I'm so tired, Hiccup. Of the blood and war and the issues, always coming and never stopping. I do'nae want to deal with this anymore."

"I know," he whispered, feeling the many days weigh on him heavily as well.

"I know ye do."

There was quiet and his eyes slid closed. He grunted when she turned and he opened his gaze to see her looking at him.

"I want to leave this place but we'd condemn them to war."

"Yeah," he nodded, "We have to broker peace between them."

"And I can'nae…Hiccup, I can never live in peace knowing that those monsters are out there."

"We have a lot to do," he yawned, cavernous, "But that means once it's over we won't have to do anything like it again."

She huffed and he chuckled, just barely.

"When it's over…ye and me…?"

"Aye," he copied her accent and she cracked a smile, pleasing him.

"Ye and me, 'til the end of the world…"

"And then back again," he lifted himself on his palm to look at her drooping eyes.

"You know," she groaned at his disruption and he pulled a strand of hair around his finger, looping it idly, "My family may insist on a wedding."

She snorted, unladylike, "Boy-o, between setting up this new village, fighting a war and dealing with peace negotiations, they will'nae have any time to do anything so complicated."

He conceded and they spent an hour or so tossing and turning between them, grunting and groaning at their lack of sleep.

"Hey," he nudged her and she snapped at him "Wha'?!" "Tell me a story."

She blinked slowly but a small, cat-like smile spread over her mouth. She snuggled into his arms and he sighed as she began to tell him of all their own magical creatures. She told him the stories of gods that, in their sorrow, filled the oceans with tears. She told him of old witches with powers to turn men and creatures into stone. She told him of Selkies, women in seal skins that would walk among men for only twelve hours before returning back to the cold, gray ocean, and Kelpies that lured men to their watery graves. She told him of will-o-wisps and how they could bring travelers to their fate.

"Like ye," she yawned.

"Oh," he chuckled, "Is that so?"

"Aye," she felt her heart grow, expand. She was letting go of so much, the castle, her responsibilities, her duties, all the expectations of her life and future, and it made her feel equal parts free and displaced.

"When the wisps led ye to me, I was bein' led to ye."

He hummed, "I think I can agree with that."

There was so much between them, blood and death and horror. But they found themselves reaching past it, flying over it, to reach each other. Hiccup was willing to slow down to help her, was willing to change the tides of the universe to see her smile. Merida was willing to let go of everything she believed about herself and others and was ready to let go of her own self-expectations. He showed her how vast and full the world is, the adventures promised by the wide open sky. She made his blood sing with danger and he knew that she was everything he ever needed to keep his heart racing.

Fate may be cruel at times—but he was glad his thread, woven between the fingers of the Norns, was inextricably tied to hers. He knew, now, that the fates could not be denied, just as her teacher had previously claimed, but he felt no need to attempt such a feat. All their fighting and denying and struggling led to this—

—Her head on his shoulder and his arms around her.

And he knew that if it would be this way, he felt no fear for the future.

Merida heard the trumpeting of the bagpipes in the distance and groaned, rolling into her pillow in an attempt to deafen the noise. She didn't understand what the Clans were doing here now, of all times, it's summer, for goodness' sake—

—She shrieked and Hiccup fell out of bed with a shout, reaching blindly for his prosthesis, hopping and holding is above his head for a makeshift weapon.

"Mer-!" He blushed when she hopped up and started attempting to wriggle into her brown tights, still covered in mud like her boots, flashing him quite a bit of skin in the process.

"The Clans, Hiccup, the Clans are comin', can ye not hear them?!"

He blinked crusted eyes and paused, metal leg still aloft. When his keen ears finally did hear the screeching wail of the strange Highlander instrument, he yelped and knelt to attach his leg and shrug back into his vest.

"What are we gonna' do?!" He yanked on the straps, the belts, panic in him.

"We have to—Oh, by God, Hiccup, does the door work? The gate?!"

"Yes!" He stood, to slip on his boot, "It's got some weak points, but it'll close now, at least!"

"We must close and bar the gates, no one goes in or out, save me!"

"What?"

There was a beat, both of them stopping to look at the other with confusion.

"You can't go alone."

"I can'nae take ye with me!"

"Yes, you-you have to! Merida, this is important! If something goes wrong—! I can't—! I couldn't—!''

"Lad, easy!" She shook him briskly and brushed her hands down her dress and hair, standing tall.

"I am Queen of DunBroch. No one will dare lay a hand on me, lest my father gut them."

"But what if it is your father?"

She hesitated, "They would'nae let him come here…it's defenseless and dangerous. Surely word has reached them about the state of the castle."

He rolled his eyes, "Merida…if your father is anything like you, do you think he'd do what others tell him?"

She groaned and buried her face in her hands before grabbing him and running down the hallways, glad to see that the Vikings did not trespass deeper into the castles to take up the spare bedrooms and fill the hallways with their girth. But there were several sleeping in the wreck of the throne room and she shouted, furiously, that they get to their feet and man the walls. She was pleasantly surprised when they jumped up with throaty yells of agreement and rushed to get their weapons and do as she commanded.

"Is giving them an armored front the best plan?" Hiccup huffed, out of breath from their trek.

"They'll either cut ye down before ye speak or offend so deeply they'll begin a war without an hour passed. This is their home," she grabbed him by the collar, "Yer da sits on my own's throne and yer ma commands mine's household! We must bar them first and get everyone to speak somewhere unclaimed!"

"Okay, I like the plan, where's the neutral ground?"

She fluttered her hands and whipped in little circles, the edge of her skirt hitting his leg, "Um! The Stone Circle! It's the best I've got!"

"Merida," he kissed her soundly on the mouth and her twitching fingers found his shoulders and squeezed until he released her lips, "This is a good plan and it will work."

She blinked wet eyes and him and nodded.

Neither one of them paid any attention to just how faint the bagpipes were in the distance.

Hiccup found a shield, leaning against a home that was occupied and began hammering the metal center furiously with his sword hilt. Dragons appeared, eyes crossed and gait unsteady, growling and furious about the rude awakening. Vikings appeared moments after, looking equally cross and exhausted from the previous day's work.

Hiccup commanded them quickly and succinctly, putting archers along the walls and well trained riders in the air. She whistled and Saorsa and Toothless appeared from the stables, having slept through the night despite it going against their natural inclinations. She was just about to take to the sky when Hiccup stopped her.

"You're too obvious, they're made to blend into the night sky. I'll send a Terrible Terror—he'll look like a bird."

She remembered the one that appeared to him and brought this all upon them, brought them to his shores, pushed her into his waiting arms. He looked up and she followed his gaze, not surprised to see over a hundred of them resting along the castle roof—he clicked his tongue and over a dozen descended, flocking to him and making him dance, awkwardly, from the prickling of their sharp claws through his clothing.

"How will we know how close they are?" Merida muttered, "It's not like they can tell us."

"Sure they can!" Hiccup grinned, "It's simple mathematics, really, and we know how much distance they traverse because—"

"Never-mind!" She shook her head, "Just get on with it!"

He checked the sun's position in the sky before he explained, in plain terms, what he wanted the dragon to do. Merida looked on, incredulous, as the lizard licked his own eyeball with a limp tongue before leaping into the sky.

"Good thing they're playin' a marchin' tune," she rolled her eyes at him, "'Cause that will never work."

He sighed at her retreating back, her dragon on her heels, Toothless eyeing them both leave before turning his attention to his rider.

"Hiccup!" Astrid called and he turned to see her and Fishlegs approaching, Stormfly and Meatlug only a few steps behind.

"What's going on?" Fishlegs asked.

"The Clans are on their way, they're marching back to DunBroch. Merida fears they won't listen to her so we need to bar the gates and prepare for battle in case they denounce her."

"Do you think they will?" Astrid asked, axe already strapped to her shoulders but lacking her armor.

"I don't know them well enough to guess," he shrugged, "She fears they might so we need to prepare like they will."

"Done," Astrid swung her blade around, flipping it expertly, "What's her signal?"

"I don't know…?"

She rolled her blue eyes before turning and commanding that Fishlegs and his Meatlug along the walls, making sure that his Gronkle was well fed and full of molten lava blasts before turning to her once love.

"You'll be with her?"

He winced, "I'll be above, keeping an eye out with Toothless."

She raised a brow and he held his breath, looking away and swinging his arms. She was patient and continued her sharp stare until he coughed, sputtering, "I don't know, she doesn't want me nearby!"

"She doesn't want her fake-husband by her side when she greets her hostile family? Wow, what a shock," she swung her axe into her open palm a few times, smirking.

"I know, okay? I know!" He paced, hands flapping and he knew he shouldn't talk to his ex-girlfriend about his current soon-to-be something, maybe, hopefully, "She's capable and independent and she can do all this way better than me, but I'm worried!"

"About her people abandoning her?"

He swallowed, "Well…it's a rough thing to go through…"

She nodded, "You would know."

Silence pulled long between them, as long as the years and as far and deep as the seas and oceans that distanced them.

"Astrid…"

She sighed and nodded her blond head, hair long and undone which was unusual. She'd plait it before battle, but it was early still.

"I'm sorry."

"I know, Hiccup," she turned away, half ready to run to Stormfly and leap into the air when she stopped and looked back, "I can't say it's okay, because it's not…but I'm glad things turned out the way they did, if that helps."

He felt his throat clench, "Really? Why's that?"

She sighed, running a hand through her pale blond locks, "Because…we're here? We're alive, at least some of us. My mother and father made it because of you and Toothless and we'll be able to keep living because of her and she's…well," she laughed, swinging her blade idly, "She's great, Hiccup. Really great, actually. I like her. She's fearless."

He chuckled, flushing brightly, "Really?"

"Yeah…and you deserve to be happy. By Thor, we both do, we all do. Gods, Hiccup, the things we've seen, the things we've done…!"

She closed her eyes and sighed, "We've saved so many, we've killed so many, humans, dragons…Doesn't matter, though, does it? We keep facing more death, more war."

He felt his eyes grow hot, "Do you think things would have been different? If we hadn't done…what we had to do, I mean?"

"Between us?"

He shrugged and she flicked her axe into her holster along her back and crossing her arms, "Who knows, Hiccup? What does it matter? All that's important its what's here, now—we have to make the best out of this. We have to make sure we can maintain this peace, build our homes here and not start killing more again. I don't think I can take it."

Her eyes, which were always so bright and so strong, were downcast and sad. It was an odd look for Astrid—his righthand, his general in arms, his best friend and first love. He preferred her anger, her righteousness in the same way he preferred it in Merida.

"I hope we don't have to raise our weapons," he sighed, "I want the same peace you do."

"But you're still willing to leave," she snapped, "You can run if you want."

"No," he ran his hand through his hair, "Not without her."

Astrid's eyes widened before she scoffed, "You'd stay for her?"

He shook his head, "No…I'm leaving with her."

"She…?"

"She's tired, too. Like me, like you. And she's willing to leave with me, unlike you."

It wasn't an accusation, it was simply the truth.

"I didn't think she'd…well, she seems so determined, unlike you."

He shrugged, "She is. But she wants her freedom."

"Like us all."

Nodding, he approached and took her hands in his. He could feel her callouses from her axe, different than his own, different than Merida's.

"I'm sorry, for…for how things worked out, between us, I mean…"

"Don't be," her fingers grasped his, "I'm glad that it happened. I'm glad I loved you, Hiccup. I'm glad for the days and nights we shared, the love we had. You showed me what I wanted, what I needed, what I will look for in another. We were good for each other."

He smirked, "We were."

"But you needed to leave," she continued, sighing, "And I know you did, now. I used to blame you, I used to accuse you, when I was alone at night, wondering where in Thor's name you were. But now I see it was fate's design. The Norn's brought you to her shores, brought you to her so that she could bring us here."

Her eyes lowered then met his, shaking his palms in hers, "It was designed, Hiccup. All of it. The gods led us here, they gave and they took. It was meant to be."

He blinked back tears, "I will love you, always, you know?"

"Of course," her own eyes were wet, "I love you, too. But I'm glad that you have someone new to love, to grow with, to explore with. I am glad to have seen how strong you've become and I hope I will see what a person you will one day be."

He kissed her cheek, "Be careful, Astrid."

She scoffed then, pulling away, "Never. I will put the village first."

"As you always have and will," he nodded to her, "And the village will be better off for it."

She turned to Stormfly, who clicked and cooed. Her leg had fared well and, although Saorsa and her were still not friends, she no longer feared Toothless and they played together as they once had. He stroked her nose while Astrid climbed upon her back and gave him one last smile before they jumped into the air, twisting and turning to stay high above and out of range of normal weapons but able to fire the Deadly Nadder spines.

And Hiccup turned, calling to Toothless and a few men to bar the restored gate, missing the flash of red curls dashing out of view of the closing doors.

Merida wrung her fingers, demanding them, quietly, under her breath, that they stop shaking. Her eyes and cheeks were burning hot, her throat tight and itching, her entire neck and back nothing but knots. She paced as her dragon watched and swallowed tears, hiccuping softly before reaching down and grasping rocks and strands of grass to toss with all her might as she shouted, clawed hands coming to tug at her red hair.

She had never seen him with Astrid like that and, now that she had, she wished she never did. Their love was so apparent, so palpable, she could scarcely withstand watching them. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but she had returned after rounding up the villagers on the outside of the walls of DunBroch to see them standing, speaking, caressing each other as if they had never separated. She had wanted, then, to pull away from her place, to run away from the image, but she was stuck as if something from beneath had gripped her by the ankles and demand she observe their intimacy.

He had kissed her.

He kissed her.

She couldn't hear what was said, she was too far off. But their clasped hands and locked gazes spoke volumes.

Gasping again, Merida covered her mouth with her hand and hated herself for her weakness. Saorsa warbled, running the flat planes of her face and head against her legs like a needy cat and her hands fell to the warm hide of her dragon to attempt to push her away with little success.

She had sacrificed so much for him, had endangered so much for his people. It had been her choice, she would not dare suggest otherwise, but that did not mean that she didn't regret it now. She should have slain him when he slept! She should have abandoned them on their ruined shores and spared DunBroch from a second invasion! She should fly to the incoming army and lead them against the Viking hoard and slaughter them all, Hiccup included!

But she would never dare.

When hot tears spotted Saorsa's head, the droplets making her gorgeous scales even more reflective in the sunlight, Merida could not stop her knees from buckling as she grasped the dragon around her neck and cried.

She had believed that he wanted her, that he could grow to love her if he did not already. But now she knew it wasn't so—she was just someone that stood in Astrid's place and was willing to leave while Astrid stood her ground and defended her people.

But she had considered, more than considered, decided to leave everyone and everything she loved behind because she allowed him to influence her.

"Stupid…" she growled, her teeth grinding, "I'm nothin' but a fool, Saorsa!"

She cooed and trilled in her ear, rubbing her cheek against her own.

"I believed him…!"

She pulled away to look into her eyes, as bright as the sun, brighter, perhaps.

"I wanted to be with him! I wanted to leave with him!"

More warbles, her tail moving to encompass her as if in an embrace.

"I thought…I thought it was what I wanted…"

She sniffled and rubbed her nose with the back of her sleeve, "I thought I loved him…I do love him…But he loves her! She's who he really wanted, all this time and I'm just a replacement!"

She put her brow against the dragon's, stifling sobs with her teeth digging into her lower lip.

Nothing made sense in this moment.

Merida knew that she made her own decisions, that much was certain. However, she could not deny that Hiccup had offered her something she had never dared consider before—leaving. This was something that broke what she considered to be a fundamental part of her, her resolve being something that she prided herself in, coming second only to her stubbornness. He helped shatter a part of her that she had never realized was holding her down, prying shackles from her wrists and ankles that kept her grounded to the castle. She had never known how tight her corset had been tied, how restrictive her long dresses were, how far she could fly in this big world without those things holding her back.

She had relinquished her position, her castle, her crown.

Because he showed her that she could.

"And I still can," she whispered, refusing to snivel, "With or without him…"

It would be a lie if she didn't feel like she was losing something when she thought about Hiccup never being with her. She wasn't a romantic at heart—she didn't coo over plucked flowers when she could ride Angus into a glen full of them, she didn't care for golden rings or shimmering gemstones when her arrowheads glinted twice as bright, she was bored to death by poetry of any kind and she had no use for great names or glory or land. She believed she knew what she wanted until Hiccup came and put everything into a different light, another perspective she wasn't aware was even there.

She loved him, without a doubt in her heart, she knew this to be true. She had never wanted something the way she had wanted to be with him, to fly the world with him at her side, their dragons wing's just barely brushing against each other as they flew, two equal partnerships. She didn't want their bond to break, even if it endangered them both—she had no want to live if he weren't on this earth. He was brilliant, funny, kind and she knew there was no one else like him anywhere, no matter how far she and Saorsa soared. She had shared her food and bed with him, welcomed him into her life and arms like she had no one before him.

And she believed him to love her, she had believed his words when they lay side by side, the smell of him in her nose. Sweat and iron and lightning and the soft dilution of clouds and sky. She had come to love him and his people, despite their barbarism, despite their oddities from her. She had become one of them and hoped to one day dress Hiccup in the tartan of her family and have him stand as equal among her own peers.

Not for long, however, just for a moment.

Then they'd be off again.

She had dreamed of an island where war could not reach, death as far away as he could be, the land as vibrant as DunBroch and as treacherous as Berk. There would be a house on top of a hill, not too big nor too small and the days and nights would be filled with the sounds of dragons. Every single type would flock to the island, they'd fill caverns and hills and caves, they'd dig in the earth and swim in the seas. They would run underfoot and fly overhead, but the chaos would be controlled with Toothless and Saorsa at the helm of the madness. Hiccup would tinker in a forge heated with dragon flame and sell his gadgets at the nearby port town while he wasn't flying around and training the dragons. She'd fly with him and they'd have a place to come home to, but they'd still travel around as free as could be.

Freedom.

But maybe her freedom and his were not tied together, as she thought, but separate.

And at the moment, there were bigger issues at hand. Firstly, she had to ensure that there was no hostility between her people, who were fast approaching, and his own. She prepared them to fight, but it would be the dragons that would cinch the battle if it should come to that, not that she'd let it and Hiccup would make Toothless command all the scaled beasts to stand down and the small remnants of the Berkian tribe would have no choice but to negotiate.

And then there were the brothers to worry about, and their massive hoard of dragons that could be controlled at will. Merida worried about what she knew and if the boy could crawl into the minds of men and women alike, turning them into mindless animals that can do little but swing a hammer or an axe and can never return to who they once were again, then she would have to find a way to protect those under her care. She bit her thumbnail as she thought about what Moira told her, the plan she had coming clearer into her mind.

"A storm in me…aye," she murmured, "A storm…"

She looked to her lightning-bred dragon, who smelled of ozone and a light, musky smell that came from laying in hey and grass while she slept.

"Oh, for the love of—of course!"

She nearly hit herself on the head, her thoughts sad but resolute.

Hiccup, she decided, would wait. If he wanted to leave her, he would have to man up and tell her himself. She could hold her tongue, even if it scorched her like nothing else, she could be calm when others thought she'd be mad. No, she'd wait for his admission and then she would call him out as a coward before his motley crew and make sure he never took the position of chief. It was her anger speaking, deep within her heart, but the thought of his embarrassment helped sooth the ache of her own humiliation.

When she stood, she placed a kiss on the long nose of her dragon before straddling her back, refusing to think about the hands that had built that saddle, "Come, my darlin'."

They leapt into the air and flew, Merida refusing to look down the entire trip.

Hiccup was always happy to see Merida in the armor he had made, the time he had put into making it an effort worth seeing it conform to her body. It shone black and blue and green in the sunlight, the crushed scales of the Nightfury still managed to shimmer incandescently even after being blasted with a plasma bolt to adhere to the leather. He was glad that his rough measurements fit her so well, stuck to her like a second skin, as if she had grown a hide just as thick and brilliant as her dragon's. With her hair pulled back into a tight braid that snaked down her back, one thick curl falling across her eye as she strutted across the compound, her helmet in her hand, she looked every bit a general prepared for war.

"Fishlegs," she snapped and he yelped, trying not to cower, "I want ye and all the other Gronckles on the wall. We will rain down fire should need be, but only as a barrier to deter any from climbing up. Snotlout? I want ye and all the larger dragons in the air—we'll put on quite a show should they appear to start a fight they can'nae win. Astrid, I know ye're a better shot than most on that Nadder, but save yer spines for better targets, ye ken me? Ruffnut, Tuffnut?"

"Yeah!" They crashed their helms together and Merida rolled her eyes.

"I want this place rigged, ye hear me?"

"Rigged?" Astrid raised a blonde brow.

"Listen," she wore a bright smirk, "If, and I mean if, my wee brothers get here, och," she put her hands on her hips, "Ye'll have three masterminds findin' every which way into this place. They are brilliant, destructive, and know the castle better than anyone, myself included. This place needs to be full of every trap yer mad heads can summon, Loki be with ye."

The twins stood, with the others and Hiccup, mouths completely agape.

The twins cackled and Tuffnut threw his clawed hands into the air, "Loki is summoned! All hail Loki!"

His sister mimicked him and cracked their horned helmets together in solidarity.

"Eh," Hiccup approached, "Is that really a good id—?"

"Gobber, Stoick, Valka," she placed her arm over her chest in respect, "I will arrange a meetin' with the general that arrives. If it be my father, understand this now—ye are in his home and ye are on his land, so ye best act like it. We do not want war or death or any more loss than all of us have already sustained. There is equal need between us all. I will broker what I can between ye, but ye must have fair ground. I will not put ye before my parents and people and I can assure ye the same the other way, d'you understand?"

"Well, alrighty, then," Gobber chuckled, "Fair enough, princess."

"Good," she took his word over the stuttering of the chief and chieftess, barely pausing to nod to them as she moved past everyone to grab her bow and revolving quiver that she attached to Saorsa, who chattered in excitement at the prospect of flight.

"No one," she barred her teeth, "Not a soul goes near me until I give my signal, do ye ken? I will not start a war due to any stupidity."

"And the signal?" Snapped Astrid.

"An arrow," she pointed her finger to a pole that stood in the middle of the compound, bereft of anything, "If I shoot the pole, I want the Gronckles and Nightmares to put on a show. Two arrows and I want a threat display from the Nadders at the feet of the soldiers. No one gets hurt, no one dies."

She looked at them, eyes sharp and cold as glaciers, her voice suddenly carrying to the entire encampment of displaced Vikings, over the encroaching bagpipes, "Hear me now! We can do this! We can have this home, a peaceful home, without violence, without war! Ye can live with Scotts without death or raids! We can have our dragons without bein' besieged! Believe in this! Believe in me!"

Tuffnut scoffed, "Man, she's a better Viking than you could ever hope to be."

Hiccup rolled his eyes, "Don't I know it…"

"Berk will have peace with DunBroch. Ye all shall have homes and farms and yer dragons will be safe. I only ask that ye raise yer weapons only once more, against the brothers that dare harm both yer land and mine. After we slay them, we shall know peace."

There was a great cheer and she nodded, the sounds of the bagpipes nearly as loud in his ears as the shouting. Saorsa stood, bright eyes scorching those around her with the same ferocity as the sun itself, every bit an Alpha as Toothless.

"And me?" Hiccup approached.

"I have a job for ye, aye," she took a deep breath, "I need ye in the forge."

"The-the-wait, what?"

"Storm-Bringer, the blade ye found, I need ye to remake it."

"I-Well…okay, yeah, I can totally do that. But, Merida, I want to be with you, out there, on the front lines. Like we were before, like we will be again, for…I mean," he scratched the back of his head, unable to meet her unwavering blue gaze, "I thought, what I mean to say is, we're a team."

"Not in this," he felt his stomach drop, "There is somethin' to that sword, somethin' I think will help us. Remake it and I shall plunge it through that wee demon's heart and seal him in the underworld forevermore."

"You? All alone? How do you even know he's still out there, still alive?"

She flipped the one corkscrew curl out of her eye, "Yes, Hiccup—alone. And I know because I feel him, like oil on my skin."

"Then what about me? What about us?" He couldn't tell his tone was rising, "We're in this together! You asked me for your help and I agreed! You and me! Un-until the end of the world!"

Her eyes wavered, briefly, "…Hiccup…"

"No! No, no, no, you do not get to do this right now! You don't get to—to—to toss me aside! Like I'm worthless! Like I mean nothing!"

"Oh, so ye can?"

"What?"

"Ye can toss me aside? For another lass, the one ye really want? I saw ye, ye ken! I saw ye with Astrid!"

"Oh, for the love of—By Odin's missing eye, Merida! We were saying goodbye!"

She heaved, her chest plate bobbing up and down with the force of her breaths, "That did'nae look like any goodbye I've seen, Haddock."

He rubbed his hands over his face and laughed (he had the audacity to laugh!), "Oh, gods, really?"

He looked up at the sky as if he could confront the vengeful deities that seemed to mock him at every turn, as he so often did to them.

"Merida," he reached for her and she backed up, unaware of the eyes on them, "I loved her. She was my first love and I will love her always—!"

"Ye dare—!"

"Oh, would you shut it?!"

Her mouth snapped closed and she sputtered, having forgotten the last time she had made him so furious.

"I loved her, yes, but we are done, alright? Done! Honestly, you should be thanking Astrid—!"

"Thankin' her?"

"Y-yes! Because she taught me to love and how to be a good man! When to—when to fight and when to back down! What to give in a relationship and when to ask for help! Astrid taught me what real, good love is and I—I keep forgetting you don't…"

He had gotten quieter in his rampage, his one hand coming out to take hers and she let his fingers gently grasp her arm.

"You didn't have that. You haven't had someone teach you, not yet. But I could be that person. I want to be that person. I haven't said it yet, and maybe…maybe that's why…"

"…Hiccup?"

"I want you, Merida. I want you with me, from now until my soul ascends to Valhalla, to the great mead hall where I will dine with my ancestors, with my father and Gobber. I want you to want me, too. I want you to—to want to walk with me, to fly with me, to lie by me in our bed.

"I want you to love me, because I love you."

"Ye—ah…" she blinked, her throat swelling with emotion.

"I love your fire," he reached out to touch her but pulled back, "I love your brilliance, your fury. You are…ha, a dragon wrapped in human skin. You're more than a princess, a queen, you're a goddess, a Valkyrie.

"And I want—I want…"

"What do ye want?"

His gaze met hers, finally.

"Tell me, Hiccup. Tell me what ye want."

"I want to be with you. Astrid was right, she said that the fates have woven our threads together and she was right, I was meant to meet you, I was born so that we could be here, together! Thor, Merida! You're brilliant and I want…you."

His mind raced to think of something he could offer her, show her his true intentions to be with her always. He had made Astrid's gift by hand, a pendant that she wore and he was proud to have made, but he hadn't had any reprieve to construct something like that for Merida. He whistled once and Toothless, face plates shuddering with annoyance at the loud sound of the bagpipes marching ever closer, approached him. He reached into his saddle bags, always attached and ready to leave if need be, the tiny pocket where he had stowed away that bit of metal he had found what seemed like years ago. It wasn't the betrothal gift he wanted to give her, but it was something worth some money and it would do for now.

"I don't…I don't need a wedding on Friday, I don't need our parents blessings, or the gods for that matter," he muttered, pressing the pendant into her palm, "I don't need rings or a ceremony or a big house built on the hill.

"I only need you," he closed her fingers around it, locking eyes with her, "You and the open sky and ocean and our dragons. I want to ride the waves of life with you—if you'll have me."

She blinked wet eyes and opened her hand, gasping. Her other palm found her throat as she sputtered and pressed the necklace to her chest.

Her necklace.

"Where—where did ye get this?"

"In the cave. The first day we spent together after I took you away from this place…Is it—is it yours?"

Tears fell from her eyes as she nodded, covering her mouth with her hand.

"Oh, Thor, I'm a fool. Of—of course it's yours! How else would it have gotten there, by the gods, Merida…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to take it and keep it from you all this time—!"

"No! Hiccup," she put her hands on his shoulders, letting him wrap her up into him, "It-it was mine, yes, long ago. I gave it to Moira, for the spell that changed my mum into a bear. She kept it, all these years, and I-I must have took it after I…slaughtered her. It…I forgot it. I forgot I took it and you must have…"

She put it on, her hand coming to rest on it. Hiccup could see now, in the broad daylight, that it wasn't wolves that danced along the metal—but bears, her family crest.

"Hiccup…" she whispered, not meeting his eyes, "I love ye, as well."

He felt the world spin, not just tilt as it so often did when he was risking his skin for a rush, but spin like he was soaring in terrifying corkscrews without a thought for the ever incoming ground. Not with Toothless under him, keeping him safe, despite the thrill, oh, gods, no—he was free flying with his fight suit, seconds away from plummeting to his death and it made his heart sputter and trip like after he first lost his leg and he dropped to his knees, holding onto her hips to steady himself.

"You'll…?"

"I'll have ye, aye, ye big numpty…" she cooed, hand still at her throat, "Och, we lamb…!"

He was kissing her, before she or him knew it. He dipped her and she laughed and he reached out to pick her up and spin her, making her as dizzy as she made him. For a moment, the world was nothing but clouds and dragons and sky—it was joy and adrenaline and endless. He wanted to hold onto this precious bit of time for the rest of eternity.

"I'm sorry," she gasped, after he put her down, "I should'nae have accused ye of wanting someone else."

"No," he peppered kisses along her cheek, the corner of her mouth, "You shouldn't have and you won't again."

"Nay," she whispered, eyes closed as he lavished her with affection, his dragon at his feet pawing at him, wanting his own attention, "I swear to ye, I won't again."

"We'll see how long that lasts," she swatted at him and he dodged, feeling lighter than a cloud, "You do have a temper, princess."

"Och, shut it!"

He grabbed her up again and she yelped but leaned to press her forehead against his, "Make me."

Her brow raised at his challenge but pressed her swollen lips to his, her hands wrapping in his hair as she pressed herself tightly to him. He laughed into her mouth and they separated, still refusing to put her down. If anyone was watching, let them—he'd flaunt her to the gods themselves if they descended from Asgard, surely worthy of Idunn's apples.

"Go get yer armor on, boy-o," she muttered against his cheek, "I'll need ye by my side."

"As you wish," he dropped her with a wink and she landed easily on her feet, "Princess."

She rolled her eyes, letting her smile drop once he started walking away, Toothless bounding after him. Merida would keep him close—for now. But if her mind was right and she knew what she had to do…

She would not allow him to endanger himself.

But first she had to break their bond.

Sighing, she motioned to her dragon and faced the high gates of her home, hearing the sound of her people draw ever closer.

Hiccup had returned to her when she heard the odd dying screech of deflating bagpipes as the army quit their marching. There was a collection of confused mutterings, some banging on the gate as the two armies stood, quiet, on either side. Merida had her hand out, sitting on Saorsa's back, making the Vikings wait for just the right moment before she shot into the air, Hiccup and Toothless on her tail, their wings blocking out the sun before they shot down, careening, landing in front of the arm with dual thuds. She would forever blame her want of a good entrance on Hiccup.

Merida kept her gaze low, seeing the dirt and feet of the soldiers as they gasped and shouted, swords drawn with swift clicks and presented in shaking palms as she and Hiccup, masked, faced them. Sweat dripped down between her shoulders, her back, from nervousness and the Southern heat. Her mask was big enough to hide her face and the top of her head, her hair obscured as long as she faced forward.

"What in the devil's name—?!"

Her heart stuttered, her throat clenching as she raised her head to search the crowd for the source of that voice. There, stomping through the troops, was Fergus DunBroch and her mother, brows lowered in confusion as they shoved through the crowd. She wanted to shout, to run to them, her knees shaking with effort to stop herself from rushing into their arms. Hiccup's hand found her shoulder and she took a deep breath, golden lenses that matched her dragon staring out at them.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

His face was nearly purple, loathing like nothing she had seen before in his eyes.

She cleared her throat, knowing her mask would keep her fairly concealed and attempted to lower her voice to sound different.

"King Fergus of Clan DunBroch—!" Her throat clenched and she coughed, "Erm…ahh…"

Her mother, however, hands across her belly as if to hold herself back, watched in immediate realization. Her husband reached for her when she advanced, slowly, but she shook his rough hands from her arms as she approached the pair without hesitation. Merida took a step back, but could not avoid her mother's nimble fingers, as strong and quick as her own, when she reached out and tipped the mask back and onto the ground.

(She hoped the glass lenses didn't break—they were such a pain for Hiccup to make.)

"Merida…?"

She swallowed, saying nothing.

She was in her arms, then, and her father was running, racing, screaming her name as he lifted her, now completely ignoring the dragons and Hiccup. They were crying, she realized, and she had to bite back her own desire to sob into their embrace.

"Oh, lass!" Her father dropped her and her mother, one of each parent's hand on either side of her face, "We thought we'd lost ye…"

"No," her own fingers rose to grip theirs, "I'm alright, I'm fine, really, I promise!"

"Merida, why did ye stay?!" Her mother's relief turned to hot fury, as it so often did, "We would have never asked ye—!"

"I know," she sniffled, "I'm sorry! I could'nae just run away from the castle! What—what ye built, da, what ye managed to make, please, I tried—!"

"Oh, mo nighean, my brave, wee, lassie…" Fergus held the back of his daughters neck, drawing her into his embrace again, "I care not for stone nor mortar. I care only for ye and to see ye safe, to have ye in my arms once more…I can now cross the river to the world beyond in peace."

"I tried to save them, truly, I did—!"

"And she succeeded," Hiccup interjected, having taken off his own mask, knowing that Merida would cave if this continued, "She saved as many as she could."

"And who the fu—?"

"Da!" She wheeled back at the violence in her father's expression, the murderous waves he gave off. Hiccup didn't know if Scotts could go berserk, but the Bear King seemed like a fairly good candidate for such mindless violence, "This is Hiccup. I would have died if it wasn't for him and his dragon, Toothless."

"Hiccup? Toothless?" He sounded them out, looking over her then, his brow lowering, "Those are…"

"Viking names, yes," Hiccup nodded, refusing to back down.

"Lass," he grabbed Merida by the arm and she couldn't help but yelp, "Ye best tell me that my eyes are playin' tricks 'cause I know there is'nae a damn Viking on my land!"

"Viking, no," the Queen of DunBroch noticed how his eyes kept strict track of Merida, not liking the rough treatment of her father, "Vikings, yes."

"What did ye say?!"

He shook Merida and she yelped again, her hands coming to claw at those holding her, "Da, stop it! Yer hurtin' me!"

Both Saorsa and Toothless got low, mouths burning brightly behind their barred teeth, promising King Fergus a swift death should he not drop the princess. Hiccup suppressed the part of him that was his dragon, protection rising up to choke him. He wanted to remove that hand that touched Merida, who dared hurt her, but swallowed his rage with effort.

"Fergus," Elinor approached, calm, reasonable, but Hiccup could see her concern, "Easy, now, husband."

He knew that tone well.

He dropped Merida and she scrambled back, chest heaving with emotion.

"This isn't the way to do this," Hiccup spoke to the queen seeing her to be the most reasonable, "We need equal footing."

"Aye," her mouth was a grim line, "I'd say we do. But this is our land, young man—just where do ye suggest we go?"

"The—the stones," he swallowed, watching how Merida nodded, despite her still shaking lightly, "The sacred stones. They are ruled by another power, right?"

"Och, come on," Fergus spat, throwing his helmet away from him, stomping in circles like a furious bear, "Are ye serious?"

Elinor ignored him, "Fine. The stones."

"Just ye," Merida spoke, her voice firm, "We shall bring Chief Stoick and Chieftess Valka to meet with us."

Elinor eyed her daughter, how thin her face had become, the dark marks under her eyes. The instinct in her cried out to nourish, protect and hold her child to her. But another part of her, the part she had nurtured for many years, the part of her that was all queen, that part warned her of the danger of this situation. Why Merida was with this man was yet to be seen, but she had a monstrous beast now, the same that nearly killed wee Dingwall and she had called it hers. Seeing how the monster protected her, it was a claim that went both ways.

Elinor did not like not knowing all the pieces on the board so that she might move accordingly.

"I can agree to that," she motioned toward the two black reptiles behind them, "No weapons, then."

"They're not weapons, mum," Merida spat, "They're our friends."

"Either way," Elinor resisted the urge to rub her temples, "They're friends that spout fire and death, Merida, and they are'nae welcome at a peace negotiation."

"Fine," the boy, Hiccup, agreed, just a foot in front of her daughter.

Was he manipulating her? Did he have some control over her that was making Merida turn against her family? She wanted to speak with her daughter alone, away from him, to ensure she was safe—there had to be something he has that would make her do this, act like this, attempt to hide herself from them and trick them.

"In an hour," Merida swallowed, thickly, her shoulders back, "In one hour we'll meet and discuss terms of peace."

"Peace? Peace? Ye think we can have peace with these—these—these monsters? Merida! Where is yer pride, lass?"

Fergus went to advance again, and Elinor watched as Hiccup put a hand between daughter and father.

'Watch it, lad,' she couldn't help but think, 'Or ye'll be missin' an arm as well.'

But Merida, never one to cower in front of any man, her father included, bowed up to meet his rage.

"We will have peace. Or ye can leave these lands."

"These are my lands!"

She cocked an orange brow, "Are ye so sure about that, da?"

"I am yer father and ye best watch yerself, lass, or ye'll be callin' yerself Lady Dingwall by next summer."

Even Elinor found that to be a low blow and she barely stopped herself from snapping at her husband publicly.

"I am the queen," Merida spat, nose to crooked-nose with her father, "By yer own decree."

There was a moment where everyone held their breath, no one seemed to move, suspended by the rage between parent and child.

"Are ye sure," he asked, lowly, "Ye ken what yer doin', Merida? The side yer takin'?"

"I take no side," she glared, "Only my own. And I have a vendetta against the boys who slaughtered our people and plagued our home and I mean to stop their violence. The Berk tribe is with me and I want ye to be with me as well—but know this," she stomped to her saddle and threaded an arrow onto her bow, pointing the tip at her own father, "I will'nae stop, so do'nae think to even try."

She spun and pointed it behind her and it soared over the gate, Hiccup wondering if there was any way she'd actually hit the post she claimed to before. But his sensitive ears picked up a 'thunk!' and a hoard of Gronkles popped over the edge of the walls, spewing molten lava onto the ground below, lighting the bits of dry grass and kindling on fire just as at least forty Monstrous Nightmares swarmed the sky, setting themselves and their riders on fire. There was a rush of heat from behind and it flared behind them, lighting her from behind.

"Ye will lose."

Fergus, a ghostly white, looked down at his first-born in rage and disgust.

"To think," he growled, hurt in his eyes that Hiccup knew would bring Merida pain, "I sought to save ye, lass, I wanted to find ye."

Her chin raised, despite wobbling, no tears spattering her cheeks.

"Ye've thrown yer lot in with them! Yer no Scott…" he shook his head in disappointment, "Yer not my daughter…"

He turned his back to her and Merida's chest heaved with emotion, but Hiccup was proud to realize there was no pleading or placating in her expression.

"Daughter or nay," she whispered to Elinor, "I sit on the throne now. And I lost everyone once—I shall'nae fail again!"

"Merida—!"

Her mother reached, perhaps to rebuke her, perhaps to assure her, but the princess was already in the air, Saorsa cutting through the clouds like a black star racing across the colorful sunset sky. Hiccup suppressed his own rage, knowing the pain those words caused, looked to the suffering queen.

Her eyes leaked tears and he softened, "I'll…speak with her."

"Do," she nodded, "I'll speak to my husband."

"In an hour, then."

"Aye," she nodded, turning back to the army that was shuffling its feet and pretending that it had not just witnessed such a terrible scene.

"Boy?"

He turned his head, waiting.

"Will ye tell me why…why my daughter is protecting ye instead of her own people?"

There was a beat, while he deliberated inwardly. Finally, Hiccup sighed and decided it was better to tell her more now, so that she could explain in the ear of Fergus. He knew a dangerous piece on the playing board when he saw one—and Elinor was assuredly a queen and could move any which way she pleased.

"Her…err, your people are gone," he sighed, "She tried to save some, but there was no chance. The brothers that have been attacking all of our homes and lands have an army of magically controlled dragons. She had never seen one, let alone fought one before, but she still tried…but when she realized the battle was lost, she led as many women and children out through some secret underground passage into the woods. They were attacked by another dragon and they scattered, and if they made it or not…no one ever returned to the compound.

"My people were attacked within the last few weeks. They were cut down just like yours," he turned to look to the many men that stood before him, noticing the differing tartans, "They destroyed our revenue, our crops, our herds. We would have starved, but Merida offered us sanctuary on your lands. There are empty huts, empty farms—she believes we can help each other."

He scratched the back of his head, "Honestly, I doubted her at first…but she was right. If she did nothing, we'd all starve or my people would turn into the same marauding monsters that did this to your home. Uh," he seemed to hesitate, realizing his own words, "Um, my tribe…the Hooligans, we don't want to raid or kill just to eat and scrape to survive, not when we can have our own lands to protect."

His green eyes were honest, she decided, and soulful. And he was very quick and clever, to know their language and speak so eloquently. He was a wonderful politician—he was reluctant to hold the position he so obviously did, as was best.

"And yer dragons?"

He shrugged, "It'll take some getting used to, but I think you'll see they're wonderful companions."

She resisted a small smirk and hummed. The lava of the Gronckles had turned into smoldering, black tar that continued to creep towards the forrest and the Monstrous Nightmares had receded behind the wall or scrabbled along the high towers of Castle DunBroch, flames low and guttering.

"And ye are, again?"

"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III," his chest raised in false confidence.

"Ye saved my daughter, then?"

He chuckled, "Well, after she whipped my leg out from under me twice and kicked me where even Odin's eye can't reach."

The queen resisted the urge to laugh, Hiccup could tell in the pursing of her lips.

"Sounds like my Merida."

He liked the queen, Hiccup decided. She would surely be an ally, once she saw all the same angles he did.

She hummed again, nodding to him and Toothless in respect, "One hour, then."

He turned and followed after Merida, urging Toothless' thoughts of 'race, fly, go, go, go!'

The queen watched them leave, a hand at her throat in surprise.

This was not the reunion she expected or wanted.

But she would make do.

Chapter twelve, complete.