I do not own Brave or HTTYD.
Chapter Fifteen: Preparation
Hiccup, the madman, proposed they jumped. At first Merida had laughed and denied him, thinking there was no need to add broken bones on top of all their troubles, but he didn't want to jump into the water, but to leap onto the backs of their flying dragons.
Then she agreed.
"Ready?!"
"D'ye expect me to be?!"
He gave a cackle that reminded her of Moira or perhaps even Tuffnut, calling out to Toothless who seemed to groan and cry out in annoyance and disagreement.
"Aw, c'mon, bud!"
There was warbling between the two dragons and Saorsa cawed, obviously distressed when she realized just what her rider intended.
"It's alright, my love!" Merida was gearing up to leap, swinging her arms to make sure she didn't hit the lower rocky outcroppings, "I will'nae miss ye!"
The two reptiles gave huffs in resignation, looking as the two young humans jumped from the high rock and landed heavily on the backs of their winged friends, knocking the wind out of them and making their shrieking laughter wheeze painfully in their chests. Saorsa got a mouthful of Merida's long hair in her gummy mouth and yanked to admonish her foolhardy actions and her rider apologized, breathless, turning on to her back as they flew in wide, arching loops that let her look up at the endless night sky.
Freedom.
It rushed through her heart and hair and blood, singing like a sword cutting down an enemy, like her arrows through the trees. She blinked back tears furiously, choking at the bright feeling that filled her chest, that had been there the moment she was allowed to fly Saorsa and every moment since then. The sheer relief was so overwhelming she nearly slid from the back of her dragon and fell to the earth, uncaring of the consequences, knowing that she could take her place with Moira and her ancestors with this feeling filling her soul to the brim.
"Hey, Merida?"
She looked up to his questioning gaze, his furrowed brow. She knew there were questions in his mouth, wondering about her thoughts, her wants, her feelings, why her eyes were so glassy, why she was so quiet. But then he swallowed them and gave her a grin that made him seem like a rambunctious, careless toddler.
"Wanna race?!"
Unable to speak, she merely nodded and situated herself in the saddle to careen through the darkness, their dragons screeching through the stars as if they themselves were made up of burning, hot gas that could explode and go shooting across the sky in a fit of fire. Toothless let off a plasma blast after he won the loop around DunBroch and Saorsa joined him with a powerful shot of her own, the combination sending electric sparks fluttering around them like blazing, lavender snow, the sharp smell of ozone filling the air around them.
Merida grabbed onto this moment and a handful of others that struck her, the most important moments, the moments that changed her beliefs and fate. She wrapped them up tightly and buried them deeply into her heart to make her stronger, to make her fearless to do what she had to, no matter the cost.
Because she was brave—
—And she couldn't fail.
Not their people and not him.
Never again.
"Hiccup, do somethin'—!"
"Gobber, I know—!"
"She's goin'ta break the cursed thin' in half—!"
"Just a few swings, Gobber, she won't ruin it—!"
Hiccup winced at a particularly rough hammer throw, "I hope…"
Even Toothless moaned at the sight and hid his face with his paws.
Gobber cried out in distress, "My sword!"
Merida was a very bad blacksmith, Hiccup realized as he gazed at the horror show from between his fingers. He should have known this from the little dagger the had made, but somehow seeing it up close was twice as alarming. She looked up at him and he gave her a thumbs-up, nodding enthusiastically and groaning as soon as she turned away. She pummeled the poor metal and dented the blade, Gobber finally having enough of her damaging his great work and went running into rescue it.
"I do'nae know if it has enough of my magic in it—!"
"Ye can get it in the blade some other way, ye savage," he spat, shoving her clear out of the forge, "Don't come near it again 'til it's ready!"
She blinked shocked eyes, about to round back in when Hiccup swept her away with a promise to bring her the completed weapon. She schooled a wince and straightened her dress (long, this time, to soothe her mother) and marched away with her head and back immaculately straight.
"How did ye fall for such a monster, Hiccup?!"
"Aw, c-come on, tha-well, that's not…it's not that bad…Gobber…"
Flabbergasted, the blond man merely held up the sword, the heavy handed dents obvious in the light but he still drew more attention to them while pointing his finger.
"I—Ugh, yeah, well, maybe we can smooth it out if Gruff can get the forge hot enough…"
Beaten to submission, is what Hiccup would describe it as. They had folded the metal half a dozen times between them and had managed to form a fairly balanced double-edged sword using the pommel they had found. Merida was only supposed to give it a few taps but he should have known that anything regarding finesse wasn't Merida's strong suit.
Gobber, too, was being rather picky about the process. He had apparently decided in the span of a moment when Hiccup brought him the project that this would be his magnum opus, the finest thing he'd ever dare craft.
"And when we're done," he winked at Hiccup, who was trying to explain that he didn't expect Gobber to work on it, "It'll be the sword ye use in yer wedding to the princess, since all the others in in yer family are still sitting on Berk…"
It was a ceremonial thing, a blade offered to the bride, usually accompanied by a kitten for mousing (now mostly young men were giving Terrible Terrors, they were more prominent on the island anyway and far more successful) and a gold ring.
"Eh," Hiccup scratched his head with a sigh, "Well, there's so little time, y'know, Gobber…"
"So, yer thinkin' of skippin' off in the middle of the night?" He scoffed, urging Grump up with the promise of roast chicken scraps and bones, "That'll go over so well with her family."
"Is this really the most important thing right now?" The younger man groused, "Is everyone going to ignore that we have to win this war first?"
"All the better to do it this Friday," he put the sword on the embers, waiting for the metal to heat, "It'll soothe some worries at least."
"Nope, nope, nope," Hiccup waved his arms, "No, that's not—no! Just no!"
"I'm confused," Gobber scratched his ear with his pinky, "D'ye want to be with the lass or not?"
Hiccup sighed, "I do, but us being free means not adhering to the traditions of our people. We're going to be together without anyone telling us what we are or our expectations. Can't you just hear my dad?"
Raising himself from the wall, Hiccup strutted across the smaller forge with his finger in the air, imitating his father, "Son! I'll expect ye to have an heir by next summer! If ye hold her legs jus'so ye'll ensure a male! And be sure to please her good, 'cause a Haddock won't leave a girl without makin' sure she remembers—ugh, I've grossed myself out," he shivered.
"And ye've given me bloody nightmares," Gobber encouraged Grump to blow more flames into the forge. He burped a glob of molten lava onto the floor before he spewed pure fire into the embers, making Hiccup cover his eyes despite sitting some ways away—Gobber, being so used to it, barely moved.
"Besides," Hiccup gave Grump a scratch when he moved away to go back to sleep, "I have nothing to offer, remember? Dad wasn't wrong. We're not going to get any kind of acceptance and…well…"
"Admit it," Gobber scoffed, "Ye want the danger, don'ye? Ye want to be doin' somethin' wrong."
"Wha-Woah, what?"
"C'mon, boy-o, it's me yer talkin' to now," he flipped the blade, making sure the pommel wasn't melting, "Ye always want'a fight, don'ye? Always want to prove that yer not what people want ye to be, always buckin' back against whoever is tellin' ye to do somethin'. Even now, fallin' for this girl—ye want to make sure ye do it in a way that makes ye feel like ye're doin' somethin' wrong."
"Oh, oh really, now? Is that what I'm doing?" Hiccup shook his head, "C'mon, Gobber!"
"Oh, ye think I'm wrong, do ye?"
"I do!"
He laughed, heartily, the small shack that the Scotts pretended was a forge seeming to shake, "Alright, boy-o. Whatever ye say."
There was a few beats of silence before he spoke up again, "Honestly, it's one of the reasons that I told ye to go so long ago…one of the reasons ye were not cut out to be a chief."
His chest oddly shook at that, "Oh?"
"Oh, do not take it personally, my lad," his smile was wry, "Ye see? As soon as I say ye'd be better off as a blacksmith than the chief, ye want to be chief!"
Hiccup grumbled out a 'nu-huh' under his breath.
"Ye're a good man, Hiccup, but…yer not a good leader. Ye're selfish, and that's alright if yer goin'ta be just'a man, but a leader must be willin' to sacrifice everythin' for his people. And it's not that ye're young, either, ye're just not cut out for this, lad. Ye see the way things have been done for years and ye think ye've got the only solution to make it better and ye'll do it, no matter the problems and havoc ye wreak in yer wake. Yer father sees every fight—ones fought and won and those lost and even the ones we've never seen nor will. He looks at every angle…can ye say that for yerself?"
"Of course not," Hiccup chuckled, hurt easing, "I see my way and I want it."
"I know ye do," he chuckled, "And that's what has changed our world for the better, but ye have brought attention and destruction to us, too. And I mean yer blowin' up houses, not this whole mess, get tha' look off yer face."
Hiccup tried to straighten his scowl into something neutral.
"But," he sighed as he finally pulled the blade and placed it back on the anvil, "Ye are not a leader. What all would ye give up to have this girl, the princess?"
"Anything," he muttered, with a shrug, "Everything…"
"Aye, the same ye'd give to have yer freedom," he went to pounding away, careless of any eye protection as he began to swing his hammer, making his apprentice wince at the sparks flying towards him.
There was nothing said while Gobber worked—the man could barely hear without the sound of his hammer evening out the damage done by the princess. He threw it back into the forge with a grunt of annoyance.
"This is all to say that I see ye, boy, and I love ye as ye are. And if ye want to be with the princess, that's fine, and if ye need to have it in a way that makes ye still feel free, that's fine, too. But, remember this—ye will always have a home if I am alive and well."
He was fiddling with something on the table, not looking at Hiccup. Gobber never had kids of his own, his seed never seemed to take on any woman he had lain with. He had never sought to marry or wed, but he still had plenty of loves that he met while sailing and met again through his travels. Not one woman had given birth to his child, so he proclaimed Hiccup as his only heir and scion.
His tiny Hiccup, who he feared he would crush and had Gothi and a few other women in the village hold as much as they were able during those first few, painful months after Valka flew off. But there came a raid when there was no one else, Stoick flying off to take charge and slay the demons in the night, and Hiccup would not stop crying, even being next to the forge. Gobber had picked him up and settled his wet, hot face against his neck and rocked him, singing poorly in his ear while he handed out blades and bolas, not accepting help from the women when they offered to stand in the smithy with Hiccup and let him fight.
Hiccup was his on those cold nights—his son and he would not trust anyone else to take care of him and protect him. And even when the horror of the raids would end, the dragons carrying off their kills into the night, men and cattle and sheep alike, to feed the queen (it still haunted him that the corpses of his comrades fed that terrible thing that took his son's leg), Gobber did not take Hiccup back to his crib, but kept him close. He would do it so often that nursing mothers would not go to the chief's house, but to the forge, sitting next to the fire and metal to help feed the abandoned babe during all hours of the day. It was as if everyone knew that Hiccup was Gobber's child in every way but name. Although Stoick took the flap when he would act up, it was Gobber who was expected to clean up after his messes, help repair the houses, who they would run to when he destroyed something.
It was always him.
He knew him and loved him, always had and always will. He was an odd little boy and he grew into an odd man, always determined to prove others wrong. Gobber decided he liked the princess and he would entrust her with his boy's heart and safety, sure that she would keep him happy and safe. And, one day, he had no doubt, Hiccup would settle—and if was here or somewhere else, he would go and stay near them and he would rock their babes just as he did Hiccup so many years ago.
Hiccup's hand fell on Gobber's shoulder. The young man was holding back tears but his embrace seemed to help unleash them. They cried, worried for the horrors of the future and all the unknown they were about to face. They cried for all the time lost and all that they had to look forward to and everything they've gone through. It was a moment that Hiccup knew was filled with fear and anticipation and latent memories full of blood and bloated bodies.
They pulled away with a laugh and Gobber wiped his nose, "Cryin', ye wee fairy?"
He punched his shoulder, "Shut up, old man."
They chuckled, going back to the sword that bright red and fully ready to be molded. Gobber put his heart and soul into this piece—it would be the blade he gives to his son to offer to his bride and it would help end this horror.
Lifting it closer to his eyes, he groused—it wasn't perfect yet.
But it would be.
It had to be.
"Yo, princess!"
Merida was with Saorsa and a few other villagers, discussing what needed to be done to the wall to fortify it against attacks. She wanted to speak to Stoick and Hiccup about moving to make the dragons a group that would move as a unit, but she couldn't catch them at the same time.
It was Ruffnut calling, Astrid walking by her side and their dragons not far behind them.
"Hey, princess," she smiled and Merida believed it to be genuine but it still looked like a sneer, "We're lookin' to go train, want to come with?"
Merida agreed, more than willing to put arrow to bow-string and fire at difficult targets.
"How'd you like us Loki-fying your house?!" Ruffnut cackled while Astrid rolled her eyes and Merida groaned.
"Well, I can'nae say that I did not ask it of ye—there were several I had to get loose from. If my brothers were here, ye'd have the fight of yer lives!"
"Where are they?" Astrid piped up.
"MacKenzie lands," she gestured with a jerk of her chin, "They're far enough away that we do'nae need to worry about them bein' in the way of the battle but close enough to worry about should we lose."
"You don't want to get them?" Ruffnut wondered, "They could help."
"With what? Pickin' up stray weapons or gettin' into more trouble or dyin'? No, they'll remain far off and we will get them once the threat is gone."
"It's true, then?" Astrid palmed her axe, "We have about a week?"
"Maybe more, maybe less…" Merida rubbed her brow, "I'm sorry, lassies, I am—I can'nae reach out into his realm again."
"Why not?" Ruffnut wasn't accusing her in any way, she was honestly curious about her magic.
"It's…his world. He owns it and he rules it, at least…the place he showed me. I do'nae know if I can make my own section or if I get trapped in his place again. If he manages to…"
She looked to Astrid, "Ye feared me, long ago, because of what was happenin' to yer dragons. He can do that to humans…I am scared he will do it to others. He may do it to me, because he wants me and if so, ye must run, all of ye. One witch is bad enough, but two? We'd slaughter ye all."
There was stunned silence while Merida let them into the training grounds behind the castle. They practiced projectiles but soon were facing off with swords, the three of them clashing against each other. It was every Shield Maiden for herself, each of them swinging heavy blades without care for their sharpness, having faith in each's abilities.
Merida was punched in the gut and went rolling away from a blade that was a hairsbreadth from taking a chunk of her shoulder as she gasped, jumping up to see that Ruffnut and Astrid were facing off, the violence of their battle jarring for just a moment—before she rushed back in and uprooted Ruffnut, literally shoving her shoulder into her gut and sending her flying as she blocked Astrid's swing with some difficulty. Grinding her teeth, she swung high and hard, pushing her arms high above her head and exposing her gut for a good kick. Falling with a gasp, she raised her sword to block Merida's killing blow before the red-haired princess was alerted to Ruffnut's approach from the pounding of the earth and she jumped away to face off with the other blonde. It went on like this for god knows how long, each of them ending up scraped and bruised, Ruffnut's nose pouring blood, Merida with a deep flay across her collar bone and Astrid limping painfully.
"We can'nae go back like this," Merida chuckled, "C'mere."
In the bright afternoon, her blue fire was even brighter than the sun. Astrid tensed while Ruffnut backed away, shocked to see it so close. Seeing their reaction, she cupped her palms around her bleeding chest, the flap of skin that had caught Astrid's sword having peeled the layers of flesh from bone and it oozed amber colored serosanguineous fluid, the bright orange of fat cells visible when it slid, only attached by an inch or so. Under her magic, she was able to regrow the skin, pull it together and stitch it closed with thick bands of magic.
It was an incredible effort—something that Merida would have never been able to do, even with Moira's magic settled in with hers. It was something she didn't know was even possible and she wondered if it was a defense mechanism, like Hiccup had claimed. She was threatened by Ivar, all of them were, and it rose and expanded in order to fight an enemy so much greater than her.
Her hand fell away to show that it was now healed. Astrid and Ruffnut shared a stare before Astrid bent and showed her sprained knee, the swelling and bruising already visible. Merida bent and pressed her glowing hands against it, fixing it in under a minute. Astrid couldn't stifle her gasp, muttering an 'oh, my gods' as she flexed the pliant and unharmed joint. Merida offered her palms to Ruffnut who, to her credit, barely hesitated when she nodded and Merida went to work on her broken nose. It snapped in place and the Viking girl couldn't help but give a shout of pain and shock as it was righted, Merida muttering an earnest apology as she securely knitted bone and cartilage together.
"Woah," Astrid looked to her old friend, "It's fixed."
"Yeah, I felt it," she spat, rubbing it and pausing.
She had grown up with Tuffnut and had her nose broken more than once. The ridge that was there was now smooth as if it was never broken before in her life and she gasped, holding it as she looked to the other blonde.
The shocked silence was quickly filled with questions and Merida flailed for a moment before they were all speaking as if they knew each other forever. She tried to explain how it felt when she called her power to her hands, how it was like draining from the loch and could run out but would refill over time and rest, how she learned and who she learned it from. She was just finishing up the whole bear ordeal, the three of them lounging in the shade of the towers spires, when Ruffnut looked at her with wide, bright eyes and a demonic grin.
"So…could you really turn someone into a bear?"
She shrugged, "Is'nae my talent, but, aye, I could."
"Really?" Astrid rolled to her side, her forehead creased in thought and interest, "That's…"
"Cruel," Merida supplied, "'Cause the soul of the person is in there for two whole days, but slowly slipping away. My mum still has nightmares," she sighed, "Or she did. This may take their place."
"A frog?!"
"Aye," Merida glowered at Ruffnut, "Frogs, too."
"She didn't know you were studying with the Völva?"
"Nay," Merida was braiding wildflowers into crowns, "She could'nae know. She probably suspected, she's smarter than I could hope to be…but she never had the courage to ask."
"A badger?!"
"Yes," Merida rolled her eyes.
"So it's a bad thing here, to be a Völva?"
"Aye," she shrugged one shoulder, "It's against God and it's dangerous. As ye know."
"Yeah, but they're praised by our people—"
"A yak?!"
"Is that an animal? Then, yes!"
"Wise women in our culture have more rights than most," Astrid continued, "More freedoms. They're healers, sometimes, but we consult them to speak with the gods, like you did at Uppsala. However, they aren't really allowed to have partners or marry...so, free in some ways, bound in others, I guess."
"I noticed the lass was alone…But ye all have more rights than I could have dreamed," Merida chuckled, "I'm glad I got to experience wearing pants and fighting next to ye. As a Shield Maiden, as Viking…as an equal."
"You're one of us," Astrid clapped a hand over Ruffnut's mouth, who was assuredly going to ask about another animal that Merida could indeed turn someone into, "Whether you wed Hiccup or not, you're a Viking and we are proud to call you sister."
"Yeah!" Ruffnut gasped, mouth free, "You're one of us!"
"You saved us," Astrid took the crown from Merida' hands and put it in her own hair with a laugh, "If you were to stay, I would choose you as Chieftess over Hiccup any day."
"A woman can rule alone?"
"Yeah, can't you?"
Merida shook her head, "I can only be queen if there is a king…if he dies, well, I can rule alone but I have to have a husband to ascend the throne."
"That's stupid," Ruffnut rolled her bright eyes, "You're people make no sense."
Merida sighed, but agreed.
Ruffnut wanted the challenge to braid her hair again, a feat that Merida had never learned. She had no friends that were near her age and gender, no friends like her at all in her life. She was always alone in the woods with badgers and squirrels and boars and bears—the only time her hair was attempted to be tamed was when her mother crammed it into a wimple or other damnable apparatus, yanking and cursing as they went. If she had this experience, these rough and tumble girls gently pulling at her curls while laughing about shooting and throwing and fighting, putting flowers through their weaving while they laughed until tears ran from their eyes, she wouldn't mind the experience. Between the two Vikings, they were able to create an elaborate crown and bun made by tucking the end of a longer braid in on itself. They gathered flowers and padded themselves with them, blood still smeared across there skin and blades still resting peacefully by their sides.
Merida never felt more at home than the did at that moment. She never fit in with anyone she knew, she was too high in ranking to have common friends and she was too young to get along with most of the courtiers children and she was too old to find much comfort in her wee siblings. And, of course, she and her mother were far too different to share much in common. Elinor was always trying to stop her, contain her, mold her and control her, and Merida never realized that there were people like her, girls like her, just a few islands away.
They came back to the main encampment, walls being fortified, weapons being sharpened, hair being cleaned and combed in preparation for what was to come. Both cultures were steely eyed and wary, but not for the peoples at their knees and elbows, but for the enemies to come. Some were talking and gesturing to make some kind of sense of the other, some were sharing food and shelter together, some checking the others weapons. The gruff brogue of her people was mixed with the harsh barking of the Hooligans and Merida, in one moment, could see into the future—
—DunBroch shiny and cleaned once more, the flag of her clan mixed with the Hooligan dragon wrapping around the center sword, its addition smooth and seamless. There were new tartans of red and black and brown and green, referencing to the Berk tribe as they shopped along the center markets. Games were held, tossing axes and cabers, ferocious sword fights and dragon races around the castle spires. Her family would stand next to Hiccup's as they watched their people with equal rule and coexist peacefully and prosper together as one group. There is more trade than ever before and the dragons fill the mountains and streams and woods, keeping the castle safe and secured from any who would dare invade again.
Hubert was crowned the head of DunBroch, his brothers happy to advise him. Astrid would take the place of Stoick and would work well with all four Clans. There was peace and joy and dragons and all was beautiful and well.
Merida blinked and she saw what was again—the extreme anxiety, the waiting that was holding them all by the throat. She saw the gray, dim walls still marked with fire from the attack, the castle empty and sad. She saw the dead earth and the bodies of both people laying across the ground and on the shoulders of those that survived.
But they would grow strong again.
And they were brave.
They would not fail.
Tensions rose as days past. There were some brawls between humans and dragons alike, scales and blood and weapons scattered around, but nothing quite so serious as to warrant real medical attention. Fergus was able to keep most of the Lairds and the Vikings entertained with his singing and made up competitions, Stoick helping when he could but also working with Elinor to fortify the castle and prepare the soldiers and dragons. Gobber and Hiccup were constantly at work at the forge, making weapons and armor for humans and dragons alike, working on the Storm Bringer during spare moments.
They all were dining in the throne room, now a great hall. Scotts and Vikings mixed carelessly, getting along well enough for the most part. The thrones were fixed by some hand, who's and what culture wasn't known, and Fergus and Stoick were chatting side by side, Elinor and Valka enjoying their food with relative conversation and Merida alone on Stoick's left. There was another throne, saved for Hiccup, but he didn't like to eat with them often, it made him nervous up in front of everyone and he would slip off as soon as he was done eating to calm his racing heart through flying. Technically, Merida was taking up Hiccup's spot to talk easier with Stoick, the two of them laughing together and Merida doing her best to translate for everyone at the long table, her shouting chastised by her mother more than once.
The door was thrown open by Toothless who came bounding in, stalking through the narrow aisles between tables. Hiccup followed with something in his hands, wrapped in cloth. He stopped before Merida, his dragon at his side, and they both knelt before her, the gift outstretched.
"Princess Merida," she could see the edge of his grin despite his bent head, "I offer you the blade to end this war: Storm Bringer."
She stood and took it, unwrapping the dark fabric that held it. She gasped at it, her furious pounding smoothed away, revealing a blade that shone in the firelight. The metal itself was not the same bright silver of some finer steel or the dark gray of iron—it was as dark as her dragon, pure black like oil or tar solidified and sharpened. There were runes inscribed that shone only when it was moved just so, but she couldn't read them. The hilt was from the original blade, of obvious Viking make, with a heavy, round pommel that Hiccup had polished until it shined like a rare stone.
It was unlike anything she had ever seen—surely Hiccup had done something to the metal, though she'd never seen a treatment quite like it.
She gaped, like a loon, unable to process such a gorgeous thing.
"Do you like it?" He asked, softly.
"It's…the most gorgeous thing I've ever set eyes on," she nearly cried, "I do'nae wish to sully it with blood."
His grin was heart-stopping and full of so much pride it nearly hurt her to look at him.
She straightened herself up and swung the blade, seeing that it was just slightly smaller than most, a better fit for her and him both.
"Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III," she said, loudly and clearly, "D'ye offer your sword to me freely?"
"I do," he stayed kneeling, his smirk entirely too pleased with himself, "And my body."
There was some movement and suddenly Lachlan MacIntosh was by his side, ignoring the growling of Toothless. He plunged his blade into the ground at his knee and bowed before her.
"I offer my blade to ye as well, princess!"
Merida blinked and there came Ian MacGuffin, placing his war axe on to the stone floor.
"And my axe, princess."
Then waddled up Seany Dingwall, eyeing Toothless warily, his bow between his knees.
"And ma bow."
"Erm…" she blinked a confused face at Hiccup, who was suppressing his snickers. But his laughter died when Astrid and Ruffnut appeared, taking a knee with their weapons offered to her. Snotlout, Tuffnut and Fishlegs joined them, heads bowed and serious in a promise to follow her and protect her in the battle.
"Thank ye," she smiled, placidly, "Thank everyone here. Yer efforts have not gone unnoticed—everyone here has made peace between our people a possibility and I see that it will come to fruition. I believe it, truly, I do.
"But as ye all know, a threat is comin' our way, intent on stealing our peace from us. They want to kill us and enslave our dragons and the fight will be a terrible one. I'm sorry for that, for we have seen so much death and horror already. But afterwards, we can join together and create a stronger, better, more prosperous world.
"I am proud of ye—" her gaze swiveled to their parents, the Lairds and their sons, and all the soldiers in the room before landing on Hiccup, "All of ye. And I will ensure, with yer faith, that we shall not fail in this and we will have our freedom after these monsters are dead!"
The Vikings were pounding on the tables and the Scotts joined in, creating a powerful, drowning racket that Merida basked in. She raised her sword, letting it glimmer in the light before she bowed to the boys kneeling at her feet and she went to leave the hall.
"Where are ye goin'?" Wee Dingwall was next to her.
"I must go to the stones," she explained, "This way I can…make sure the sword is strong."
"Ye gonna do magic, then?" She sputtered, "We saw yer cauldron in yer room."
"Wh-what were ye doin' in my room, Sean Dingwall?!"
"Och," he crossed his arms, "I did'nae do it—it was Ian's idea."
"What?!"
"Sorry, Merida," he was apparently behind her as well, "We wanted to know if ye were still alive…"
"Ugh, never mind it," she huffed, stomping out of the hall with a veritable entourage. Hiccup was in the back, but kept pace. The gaggle of younger adults attracted more, and soon the dragon riders and the clan heirs were all following Merida out of the castle gates and towards the woods, her feet sure even in the dark.
Just when Hiccup was about to ask Toothless to light the way, a wisp appeared.
'come! here!'
Gasping, there was a beat where everyone stared at the row of glowing creatures before they went scrabbling, unable to stop the compulsion of all that they offered. Merida and Hiccup, who had seen them before and knew their call, were able to ignore the siren song but went running and chasing the others, laughter bubbling from all of them as they called out their wants into the night, the promise of the will-o-wisps loud in their ears.
"I want to be chief!" Astrid sounded strangled.
"I want to be king!" Lachlan choked out, rushing and pushing over Dingwall.
"I want a farm! With sheep!"
"Chickeeeeeeeeeeen!" Tuffnut called.
"A family!" Screamed Snotlout.
"I want Merida to love me!"
So immersed in the call of the wisps' magic, they didn't even realize what they were admitting to and the others seemed mostly unable to hear them. But Hiccup and Merida chortled in glee at the admittance of their wants, the manic, frenzied look in their eyes only dissipating when they stumbled into the ring of stones. They gasped, feeling bereft, as though they had let their dreams slip through their fingers, turning to look at each other in confusion as the two heirs-apparent saddled up behind them.
"Out," Merida demanded, eyes already a haunting blue, matching the wisps that still seemed to hang around. They danced along the inner circle of the stones, swaying back and forth as if a real flame. Seeing her seriousness, the others backed away until they were right on the boarder of the stones, peering in from between them.
Merida should mind the audience, the many peering eyes staring at her perform what she had always hidden, always felt shame for learning in the dead of night, when nothing but owls and foxes and bats remain awake, but she couldn't at the time. She plunged the black blade into the dirt, feeling the magic in her rush through her, the circle amplifying her already monumental power source. Her hair flew back with the power of it, her lidded gaze a heady azure half-moon.
'If ye are here to help,' she eyed the wisps, in her heart summoning the matriarchs of her magical line, Moira and her teacher and her teacher's teacher and so on.'Then help me…Help them…Let us stop this. Together.'
There was a storm in her blood, the electric pulse in her pounding in her heart and crackling through her hair and fingers. It was instantaneous, making her gasp and squeeze the hilt of her new blade, nearly blinded by the power she could scarcely wield. Her eyes went hazy in the dark, the onlookers gasping to see her blue aquamarine gaze, as she grit her teeth and filled her new blade with power. Long, thin strands of lightning reached from her eyes towards her hair, down her arms across the black metal of the sword, making the weapon glow a pale white like a star, the entire area brightly illuminating the faces of the others.
'Protect them.'
She closed her eyes and opened up every bit of magic she had within her, no more holding back in fear.
'Cut through metal.'
Her heart raced in her chest, pounding so rapidly she felt as if she had been running through the woods for hours, up and down hill in a great chase. Sweat wet her brow and her hands went nearly numb at the amount of magic she was pouring out of her. She felt endless, eternal, infinitely bound to the earth and all the magic that welled up within it. Merida was not herself; she was the work of her ancestors, her teachers, she was recycled magic and would pass on into the next life with the knowledge that she would transfer her magic back to whence it came—back to the earth.
'Cut through flesh and bone.'
The air seemed to hum with the electrical current she was making, like stepping into a massive beehive. It made the ground vibrate and the others, Vikings and Scotsman alike, shared worried glances as the steady, pulsing beat that made them tremble. The stones around them began to hum in tune with her power, slowly beginning to glow the same blue as her magic. Hiccup shared a gaping look with Astrid, who's furrowed brow expressed her worry but no one dared attempt to say anything above the din her power was making.
'Cut through hide and armor.'
It was beating them like a gale, wind having picked up to whip around them as if they were standing in the middle of a violent storm. Merida, trembling from the exertion, lifted her face to the sky and screamed—
"Her mouth!" Someone shouted.
That, too, was full of blue electric pulses that danced and crackled along her molars, extending out like the same furious plasma bolts Toothless and Saorsa shot.
"I summon the Caim!" Merida shouted, bands of currents racing along every hair and along her skin like a lover's caress.
"I use my magic," her voice could scarcely be heard above the noise, the wind so furious it was rushing against her every breath, nearly choking her ancient words, as old as the stones, as old as Moira, "I use it to save them, to save them all! I use my magic to protect!"
There was a booming crack! from above and lighting, seemingly from nowhere, reached down like a bony hand of Thor himself and struck the metal rod in the dirt, sending everyone back with a sonic boom, the earth shuddering from the assault—
—Then it was silent.
Merida lay in a crumpled heap by the blade, little static pulses still running through her hair. She was burning hot to the touch, as hot as the forge, her clothing smoking as Hiccup tried to roll her, unsure of when he had moved, when he had reached her. The sword was still a thrumming, pure white that made him nervous and he called her name twice as he shook her, surely getting blisters from her skin. When she groaned and cursed at him to leave her and let her sleep, he fell to the side and held his chest in relief before laying back in the decimated patch of scorched earth to watch her quiet, peaceful face.
"Merida…?" He whispered, as if it were just the two of them and they weren't currently ringed by his compatriots and her would-be suitors.
She grunted.
"Don't scare me like that," he murmured, "We're still bonded, we're still connected…so you can't die on me."
"I would ne'er," she muttered, rolling into the scorched earth her power had made to snooze, her nose twitching at the smell of burnt grass.
"You better not," he whispered, standing and scooping her up with only a little difficulty with his leg, ignoring the heat of her skin.
Ian glared as he readjusted her in his grip before whistling high and long for Toothless, who took less than a minute to come soaring down on them. He cared less for the Laird's sons than he did a rock in his boot and he knew his riders had their own way to get back, straddling the back of his best friend as he cradled his soon to be bride.
"Don't touch the blade," Hiccup warned, even though it didn't need saying.
It was still white and dangerous, seeming to thrum from its impromptu sheath, promising death and destruction to whomever dared fall under its swing. Even Snotlout and Tuffnut seemed daunted and they were the dumbest of the group by far. Astrid and Ruffnut tucked Merida's legs in so that they wouldn't flail on the ride and Hiccup thanked them before they were off.
The castle was nice, but he thought they'd have a better nights rest somewhere more secluded, somewhere they were in control, somewhere made for them.
Steering Toothless in the darkness, he formulated a plan as they went into the woods, Saorsa's call in the night answered by Toothless' own screech of acknowledgement before they were careening through the stars, the power of the Nightfury's wings echoing around them.
"Ivar," Bjorn grumbled, asking once again, "Are you sure?"
"I am positive," he couldn't help his constant grin, even though his brothers had claimed multiple times that it made them uneasy.
"Why would they return to the walled palace?" Hvitserk muttered, Ivar listening as he stomped back and forth on the top deck.
"Because they can fortify it," Bjorn muttered, "And now they have dragons, as well…"
Bjorn was mad at him—Ivar could see it inside of him, a writhing mass inside his head like a knotted ball of snakes, twisting around his brain and hissing and snapping at their own tails. He could see what Bjorn wanted from him, what he wanted him to do; he wanted the dragon-king dead and to steal his Nightfury, but he couldn't see what Ivar did. He knew there was something that was binding Merida and the boy together and he needed to root around inside him to undo it. He could not get inside Merida, even in-between realms she was shut up and barricaded, she was far too strong pry into her mind if he could even find it—he was using the Viking rider as a beacon to lead them to the walled city they had already invaded. He couldn't dispatch of the boy until he undid the knot that was wrapping around his future bride and the dragon Bjorn wanted to steal. Even then, he was not sure if he could untangle the bond between the boy and the dragon and his brother would accuse him of failure all over again.
He should attempt to explain himself, he should try to rectify the situation, but he didn't care very much about his brothers then. He didn't think he would ever care about them again, at least as much as he did. He didn't want them, he had little use of them now. Once he and Merida were wed, she would be his eyes and their combined magic would level this world of all that is and would ever be would fall at their feet.
He was brought back to the conversation when Hvitserk hit him across the back of the head and demanded he pay attention.
"You are our best bet of getting inside," Bjorn spat, anger radiating off of him in thick, sullen waves, "How many dragons will it take to break those walls down?"
Ivar sought through their army, shifting through dragon's minds like pages in a book, seeing that they had two massive dragons, Boulder Class, made for bashing and destroying. Their spiked hides and triple-split jaws would make them a fearsome pair if they weren't drooling into ocean, bereft of mind or thought. Ivar shut their mouths and commanded that they eat and drink plenty so that they would be strong, their orders being followed without complaint.
"I have two suitable. We may need more."
"Why would we need more? Oh, right, because you keep killing them!" Hvitserk raged, "We don't have time for this! Use what we already have!"
Hvitserk was grumpy in general, but he was more irked than usual at the speed they were approaching the castle. Ivar had made it clear to them that they were only to take it, not to bring more destruction to the walls—Merida loved it and the youngest brother wanted his soon-to-be bride to be happy with him. They had not liked the obsession that had grown in him so quickly, like poison, hot and heavy in his blood—it made his magic even more volatile—but he didn't care what they wanted. They knew as well as he that without his power, they had little to nothing. The soldiers and pirates and mercenaries they had acquired would get them pretty far, but with the amount of dragons that the Alpha dragon and his rider had acquired would end their armada within a few moments.
So Ivar did what he wanted, as he always had.
And he had kept his promise to Merida, he had yet to kill another dragon on purpose. But he was careless, admittedly, he shrugged one shoulder at his brother—he forgot to tell many of them to eat and drink, which was a crucial part of living for most creatures. He sent a command for all the beasts to handle their needs, near or far, and return as fast as their wings could carry them back to the ships. He heard the great flapping of wings and a few shouts as they dispersed to nearby islands or into the sea for food.
"Brother, this girl, this witch…"
"Merida," he sighed, dreamily. He couldn't stop thinking about her, her long red curls that looked like blood and her pale, bone white skin.
"Right," Bjorn cleared his throat, "How do you know—?"
He didn't have to hear him speak to know what he wanted to know.
"I know she's mine, brother," his pale eyes were sharp, "I know it like I know myself, my own magic…"
His grin hurt his cheeks it was so wide.
"I can't wait to have her, to touch her body…brothers…"
There was some shuffling and he sat himself on top of the small table under their ship, crossing his legs.
"How do you please a woman?"
There was a groan from Hvitserk and Bjorn cursed fluently under his breath.
"I know you have lain with many," he accused, crossing his arms, "Surely you can tell me how."
"It's not about—look, brother, Ivar," Bjorn was taking that tone of the eldest, the tone he'd been using ever since their father had died, "You can have whomever you want, we can't tell you who to wed, but this girl…"
"She will be mine," he cocked his head, "Or do you wish to disagree? I don't need you to win."
"Now, you listen here you little—!" Hvitserk was cut off and he wheezed, Ivar knowing even without his magical sight that Bjorn must have hit him.
That was the nice thing about them. Ivar had shown them his true power—he had made so many around them mindless zombies. There was never a reason to turn against his brothers, they already know what he could do.
So they never crossed a line.
His smile was triumphant.
"I'll tell you, Ivar," Bjorn sighed, "How to please a woman. Most importantly, you must give her leniency and treat her with respect. Can you do that?"
He shrugged, "Of course."
Merida was his equal, or as close as there would ever be. She had erected fairly good walls around those she was close to, which is why he couldn't destroy the boy and the other Nightfury until he got his hands on him. Once his magic crawled under his skin, there was nothing that would save him but he needed to get close enough and needed a ride fast enough to do so. Merida said she was not wedded to anyone, but that didn't mean that Ivar wasn't threatened—and she would forgive his transgressions against the humans once she was full and round and awaiting their child.
Even the boy.
"Ivar," his brother was speaking, "…If you want this woman, you will have her. But if it is only power you seek—"
"Merida shall be my bride," his snarl was more violent than he expected, "And you cannot stop me! No one can! No one! I am the only reason you have been able to get so far and if you don't believe that I will pick up and leave you to flounder in this Thor-forsaken ocean then you are a fool!"
"Easy, brother, lest you lose those who truly love you. Who took care of you when mother tried to bash your brains against a rock?"
He felt his eyes burn but he was a man, now, damn it, and he would not cry.
"She was maddened…"
"That's right, she was," his brother's tone was triumphant, "And she saw you as a beast that rotted her from the inside out. And, tell me, brother, what happened?"
"She—I…"
"She found you rather…monstrous, I would say. So she attempted to slay you as a young babe, but who was there to stop her hand from breaking open your skull?"
"It was…you…" his voice was quieter now, "And Hvitserk…"
"That's right," he was softer now, his arm on his shoulder, "And we took care of you long before your magic settled. We washed you of your filth, we helped teach you to see with your hands. We were there long before and after anyone else. So you cannot turn against us, can you? That would be dishonorable."
He heard Merida's words in his mind.
"You don't care about me…you just want power!"
It was nothing but a whine, his voice crackling pitifully and he winced in embarrassment.
"Oh, Ivar," he sighed, "Is that what you believe? After all I have done for you? I washed your clothes, woman's work you know, brother, I fed you with my own hands, dressed you and taught you to fight even without sight…"
He could see the snakes of his brother's mind, twisting, turning, consuming themselves in constant circles like Jormungund.
"I am so severely disappointed in you."
He's chest clenched painfully and he sputtered, not thinking.
"She said it! Merida said it but I don't believe her! And she doesn't know, she'll see you as you are! She's scared, brother," he took his arm in his, "She doesn't know you as I do, yet."
He licked his lips, dry, suddenly.
"If you want her, brother, I'll share her," his voice was soft, "If you will help me capture her and keep her with me, you may have her occasionally."
He was pushed to the ground and he grunted, breath heaving.
"You know nothing of love, brother, only corruption and obsession. Perhaps, mother was right…"
"No, no, brother, Bjorn, please!"
He scrambled across the floor to grab his leg, the leather straps of his boots.
"I'm sorry, brother," he sniffled, "You know I am always on your side! I will do whatever you command of me, I am at your right hand! I am your weapon, as I have always been! A sword does not fall upon that hand that wields it! You know that! You know I am yours!"
"So if I told you to let this girl go, the witch, you would?"
He sniffled, again, tears leaking from his eyes.
"Ivar?" He pressed.
"I want her, Bjorn. She is like me. How many have we met like me? How many have we met?"
There was a beat, then a heavy sigh.
"None. No others."
"It's not fair! You and Hvitserk, you have had women! You have lain with them, but I have not had anyone worth my time!"
"You have never had any interest, no," there was another sigh, "Because I did not find you ready. You are still young, Ivar."
He couldn't help but scoff, wiping his nose on his arm as he stood, shakily, "You and Hvitserk had women before your thirteenth year!"
"We were heirs, brother, women wanted us to take a place near our father before he was slaughtered by that worthless Vast Hooligan."
"So I don't get to have the one woman I want because our father was killed? That's not fair! Bjorn, I want her, not anyone else! Just her! If you give her to me, I will share her! What more could I give you?"
"I cannot give you this woman—she is not an object, Ivar," his voice was tight and firm, "Women are not like your dragons. Have you forgotten our rules?"
"I'm not taking her mind, brother, that's not what I want! I've had puppets to play with, that's not what I want with Merida! She's too strong anyhow!"
"If she's so strong, what will keep her from hurting us?"
He scoffed, loudly, "I can stop her magic! I just can't…I can't see her!"
"I don't understand, Ivar—!"
"It means that her mind is not open like yours. I see you, brother. Your mind and soul and everything that makes you, you. But I cannot do such a thing with Merida, she is too powerful and she is very good at hiding away. If I could touch her in this plane, maybe I could…I'm not sure…stop her or block out that part of her, but I don't know."
"Then how can you ensure that we will not be harmed by her hand?!"
"Because she will grow to love you as I do as she grows to love me! Once she is full of child she will be harmless!"
"Please explain your logic, brother, because I cannot follow it," he could see the movement of his brother's hand rub at his temples.
"She'll be so concerned with the babes and the dragons that she won't have any time to focus on hurting us or escaping! Plus, once I get my magic and my hands upon her, I can basically disarm her."
"You just said you are not sure!"
"I'm not sure how to do so! But I am sure that I'm stronger than her!"
"So she is not your equal?!"
"Not in some things! No woman is equal to us in all ways, brother, you know that! They are weaker and far more emotional than men!"
"They're emotions make them stronger, Ivar, you should recognize that."
"Just-just listen!"
"I am the head of this family! You listen to me!"
"Ugh! Gods! This is so unfair!"
His brother scoffed, "Unfair?!"
"You're never there for me! This-this whole war is what you want! Did you ever think to ask me about what I want? No! You go around telling me what to do, what not to do with my magic! Trying to make me think like you! Well, I'm not going to be like you!"
"You are acting like a child, Ivar."
"And you are acting like-like a beast! That's what you are!"
"Ivar!"
"I'll never be like you! I'd rather die than be like you!"
"Ivar!" He was advancing and he grabbed him, lifting him from the floor and shaking him, hard, "You are a Viking! And I expect you to act like one!"
He saw his hand raise but he never considered he would use it against him. He slapped him across the face like he did when he was young and hurt the children of the village, drawing attention to himself and their family and driving them away because of the bodies he left in his wake. He was young then and nearly hurt his brother—nearly took their minds away. But he was stronger now, he was better equipped and in control.
Of his magic, at least.
He turned wide, white eyes to Bjorn, tears slipping down his face in shock and despair.
"Ivar…"
"You…you hit me…?"
"I cannot have you turn against us," his voice was rushed, "Even for a woman you want."
"But-but-but I want her, brother! We were meant for each other! It's my fate! My destiny!"
"Your fate?"
"Yes! She was meant to be with me! Our powers are so similar! I was made to reveal the truth, she was made to conceal! We were meant to be!"
"Brother…"
"Please! Please, Bjorn…if you give this to me, if you help me get Merida and keep her for myself, I will never question anything you say, ever again! I will be nothing but a blade in your hand! I'll-I'll-I'll do anything at all! Ever!"
"I have told you several times, Ivar—I cannot gift you a human being!"
"I'm not asking you to give her to me! I'm asking you to let me keep her! I will get her for myself! But I don't want you to hate Merida!"
Bjorn was getting more irate—the snakes that made up his mind spinning furiously, twisting amongst themselves in intricate knots.
"I care nothing for the girl, Ivar. I only care about you, because you are my brother."
"Then you'll accept her once I have her?"
"Oh, dear Thor," he threw a pitcher across the room and it shattered, "You know what—? I don't care! I don't! Take the girl, turn her mindless, rot her from the inside out, I don't give a damn! Fuck her while she fights you or when she's unconcious, impregnate her with your magic, I cannot express to you the fact that I care not about her or her well-being! I cannot have you so focused on her that you lose everything that we have built!"
His shout had risen to a roar and Ivar sulked.
"I can keep everything under control."
"Can you? Because within in two moments after knowing she existed, your barrier falls and Hvitserk and I nearly were shot to Hel by that demon dragon you never mind-fucked!"
"That wasn't my fault! I was protecting us from dragon fire and projectiles and weapons! Her dragon has her magical power and I wasn't expecting it!"
"Her dragon…has her magical power?"
"Yes! They're bonded, not like the boy, but still bonded!"
"You are speaking in a tongue that I know but don't—!"
"Ugh! Listen to me! Her magic is in the dragon, understand? So when the blast came, it pierced my barrier! But I will be better prepared this time! I know her talents, I know her powers, I know everything about her. Or I will!"
"Brother, there are too many variables to this. I will not jeopardize this entire mission due to your wants!"
"It's not a want—I need her, Bjorn!" He whined, "I dream of her, her hands on my body, how smooth and soft she is—!"
"Oh, enough," he hissed, "You are not —!"
"Please, brother?! Please, please, please?!"
"Ivar," he groaned and pressed his palms into his eye-sockets, "Stop this!"
"No," he whined, "I can't just let her go and forget her. When is the next time I find another person like me? It could never happen! After you and Hvitserk pass on, who will spend eternity with me?"
"Ivar," he sighed, "Brother…You know that death—?"
"Whatever," Ivar huffed and sat on the ground, pouting, "You don't love me. You don't want me to be happy."
"Brother…" he bent and put his hand on his shoulder, "Brother…if you can promise me that you will keep your head about you, protect me and Hvitserk, I will accept her once you are wed. Is that what you wanted me to say?"
"Yes, but you don't mean it!" He jerked his arm from under his palm, turning the other way, "You only say what what you think will placate me."
"Of course I do," the snakes writhed beneath his skin, a million that made up his veins and muscles and moved as one, "I love you, brother, and want you to be happy."
"Truly?"
"By Thor's Hammer, I so swear it."
"Then…"
"I will happily accept her, should she become yours. That is up to you, surely, and her, but I will not reject the woman you love as long as she loves you in return."
"Oh, Bjorn! Thank you!" He wrapped is arms around his brother, who chuckled lowly.
He patted his back, "I love you, Ivar."
"I love you, too, brother!"
Bjorn was made of serpents that made up his very soul.
The snakes spun, in eternal circles, consuming themselves.
Chapter fifteen, complete!