I do not own Brave, HTTYD, Tangled, Frozen, or RotG.

AN: Updates are going to be sporadic, and with fewer chapters. I wish I could just take a whole day to upload everything, but that doesn't seem possible at the moment.

Chapter 31

Friendships

Merida had made quick friends with the girls, after a little laughter regarding her hair getting in her face. A young pale thing, thin and waif-like named Iona showed her how to bind her hair back in the intricate little cloth. It took them all a few times to get it all hidden under the cap, but it kept it out of her eyes when she stirred the steaming vats of hot water, filled with lye and ash to keep certain garments their color. This was an important process, lest tartans lose their colors or bleed and suddenly start representing a whole different Clan—wars have started over less, no doubt.

Still, for the most part they were skittish and worried, but dressing in cheaper clothing, adding the apron and hiding her hair, she nearly seemed like a new person and they would sometimes slip and forget just who she was.

Merida intended to use that in more than one way.

"—and then, he leaned over me and he put his mouth—!"

"Child, shut yer mouth!" One of the women hissed, older but only by so many years. There wasn't a crone among them, which Merida found only slightly odd but didn't have it in her to ask as to why. The eldest was certainly Rowan, who was nearing thirty-six years and had four children of her own. Out of the six of them, it seemed that they were all fairly close in age and seemed to get along swimmingly because of it.

Merida raised her head and wiped at her sweating brow with the back of her hand.

The three young women tittered, made up of Iona, Maisie, and Lilias.

Roman and Isla shushed them again.

"What's all this, then?" Merida asked from her spot, stirring with some effort. Rarely did the other girls snap at each other and more often than not traded secrets, tips, and general gossip with ease and comfort.

"Nothin', yer Highness," Rowan snapped, "Just the gossip of young ladies that do'nae know when to stay silent."

"Come now!" Merida laughed, thinking on how to open them up. "I've told ye all a hundred times these past few days to call me Merida! I'm not a Princess, really, anyway, am I?"

The pleasant giggling stopped, sobered.

"Whaddaya mean, yer—Merida?"

"Well, position or no," she sighed, propping her tired hands on her hips to give herself a bit of a break, "I'm wed to a Viking. I can'nae rule DunBroch."

"…Ye speak of it like…it's still the truth," Iona murmured and was promptly shushed.

"Well, 'tis," Merida shrugged, not bothering to look up as she went back to her stirring and dipping, "I'm a married lass myself!"

"Iona just recently wed," Maisie offered after a bit of tense silence. "She's asking for some…advice."

"Girls!"

"Oh, come on, Rowan!" Iona begged, "I'm…well…" She blushed and turned shameful eyes to the ground. "I'm strugglin' with my Jamie."

"Och," Merida laughed a little as she thought back to their first time together. "I understand that!"

There was a bit of quiet.

"Was it…bad for ye, Merida?" Iona asked, quiet.

"Well, not in the way I thought it might have been," she admitted. "But…the painful truth is I had no idea about any of it at all. I had no idea what was even happenin' to me, I thought I was dyin'!"

The girls shared little chuckles at her expense.

"It's just so…hard, ye know?" Iona kept speaking to the group, feeling less fearful. "I want to please him but I get so…flustered! I get scared because he brings out these feelings in me! I barely even think it's me!"

"The noises I make when I'm with my husband are awful," Lilias whispered, "I sound like a brayin' horse!"

They all laughed together at that.

"Sometimes I feel like I'm on fire!" Isla blurted, "Like I need to sit in ice!"

"My husband gives me a look and I feel that way," Iona commented from where she was sitting and mending a tunic in quick, balanced stitches.

"Mm, why d'ye think I have four babes to care for?" Rowan huffed. "I do'nae ken how he manages it!"

"True, 's like witchcraft," Merida wiped her hands on her apron, "He moons at me and I feel like I might as well be a puddle on the floor!"

More laughter, louder, braver, more honest.

"…Did anyone…" Isla blushed even darker. "Did anyone ever really…speak to ye about these things, Merida?"

She took a deep breath, feeling a little stripped bare in front of them. But she knew this is what it took to establish the bonds she needed to exploit. Her left hand ached without her ring, somehow heavier despite the loss. "Not in the way I wish they would have. It's always awkward, for both parties, I s'pose, so it was so…simplified. I was…God, I was terrified on my wedding night. I thought I'd be…I do'nae ken what exactly, but ruined. But then…"

They waited, sitting on the edge of their chairs, work completely halted.

"He waited for me," she smiled down at her feet, "Months, he waited. I was so torn, even in wantin' him, 'cause it felt like I was betrayin' everythin' I always knew. He let me come to him and he was the one that really taught me what I needed to know."

"…The Viking boy waited to bed ye?" Maisie ventured and Lilias threw a towel at her in rebuke.

"He did, he did'nae want to hurt me."

"…But he's a Viking!"

"And I'm a Scott," she shrugged and went back to her vat, pushing at the slurry of clothes. "In the end, we both bleed red."

Silence greeted her and she let them either condemn her or see her point of view, whichever they reached.

"…Did ye love him, Merida?"

"Aye," she proclaimed proudly, "I do love him, just as he loves me. I miss him and our dragons."

A couple of the girls gasped.

"Ye…ye saw the beasts? Up close?"

"Well, it's hard not to!" She laughed, "They were everywhere on Berk! Everywhere! I could'nae accomplish a damn thing without dealing with three! Drinkin' from my well, crawlin' through my house, followin' my husband around in need of one thing or another!"

"Did ye ride one?" Maisie asked.

"I have one and she has me," Merida tipped her chin over her shoulder to grin. "Her name is Solasta and I earned her trust all on my own."

Isla looked green. "How could ye see ever come to see them as anythin' more than monsters…?"

"It's part of life, we must all learn to move forward. They did awful things, aye, but so did we. War is not every day and we had to learn to keep movin' or else…we'd be stuck forever." She turned around completely, "Does tha' make any sense?"

"So ye ride it then?" Maisie was nearly tipping out of her chair. "Ye flew?"

"Whenever it pleased me," she chuckled, "Which was often. She's as white as a cloud and she glimmers like a pearl, all pink and green and blue in the sunlight. She's fantastic and strong and when ye're up in the sky, ye feel…!" She laughed and threw her hands up, "The freest ye could ever think to feel. Like ye could float away. It's amazin', lassies, I wish ye could all experience it at least once!"

They shared nervous glances.

"Aren't ye angry, Merida?" Rowan asked, "To have…to have been given to him in the first place? Aren't ye glad to be back?"

"Here or on Berk, I gave myself up for peace. I'd do it again and again, so that yer families could know a better life and that we'd have no war."

There was stiff and stilted silence. Merida would bet this was because there was no joy in her homeland at this point, and her losses did not account for very much.

'Perhaps my gains overtook theirs,' she wondered idly, staring into the murky water. 'I stole the happiness I was to give to them with my love to Hiccup.'

"If that's so, why are ye here then?" The gasps from the other women were immediate, hissing out Maisie's name and grabbing at her arms.

The girl, fiery and bright like Merida herself, tore her arm out of Lilias' grip to glower at Merida. For the first time the Princess noted that her brows had a shimmer of red and she wondered what color hair she was concealing under her twisted bonnet.

"Why did ye come back?!"

"Maisie!" Rowan stood, "Sit down and—!"

"Nay, please," Merida stepped in. She turned to the other girl, "I was taken. In the middle of the night, from my marriage bed. My husband was stabbed and, truthfully, I do'nae…I do'nae know if he lives or…"

"Oh, no…" Iona whispered.

"How d'ye seriously care about the Viking?" Isla spat, which was strange, her being so gentle.

"I learned to," she shrugged, feeling small and helpless. "I hated him at first too, ye ken. I expected what ye would most likely would expect, the rapin', the screamin', a life full of sorrow. And I was…I was ready for it. But it wears ye down and I was…"

They watched, all eyes on her, as she bore all.

"I…I was so miserable, ye ken. I wanted…I gave up everything, everything that made me happy, everything I knew. I looked to a future of bleak sorrow, waiting for death. And I…I nearly took myself out of the world to avoid such a cruel fate…"

Strange understanding dawned on all of them.

"And he pulled me back, my Hiccup. Somehow, somewhere along the way, I stopped hating him. And then…I started to try to be his friend and care for him, hoping for a bit of peace. And then, one day, I loved him."

"…Was he ever cruel to ye?" Rowan asked, eyes far away.

"Nay, not unless I was cruel to him first," Merida snickered. "Ye all know my temper. He was slow to anger, but I managed to push him to that ledge several times."

Iona and Lilias tittered a little behind their hands.

"Did ye not know?" Maisie kept pushing. "That they…what's happened? What's been happening?"

"Nay, but I can help ye now, if ye tell me what ye know," Merida swore. "I was on the battlefield, remember? I do'nae want any more war, not after all I have known and lost."

"Ye'd stop this—?"

"Maisie," Rowan hissed, "Sit down and shut yer gob."

"No, please, please, listen," Merida begged, "The people are sufferin'. As much as it hurts me, it is for them and ye all that I did what I did so many moons ago. Please, hear me. Help me understand what has occurred in DunBroch since I've been gone."

Maisie looked at Rowan with a sneer, "She needs to hear it."

"Girl, I swear—!"

"This is important—!"

"Do'nae ye dare—!"

"Please!" Merida stepped between them, "I can help!"

Rowan raised tired eyes, brown and dark and deep like the richest earth. "Ye'd condemn us."

"I—!"

"Yer mother is a maddened bitch and she'll kill us all—!"

Rowan slapped Maisie across the face and everyone sucked in a breath of shock.

"Ye be silent about the Queen! Lest ye lose yer head!"

Merida sighed.

"My husband loves me," she told Rowan and the others, "If ye think he'll leave this be, ye are wrong. They're comin', God only knows with how many Vikings and dragons in their wake. Hiccup may not like to act in anger, but his protectiveness knows no bounds."

Maisie's lower lip trembled, her hand on her cheek, silent and hurting.

"Ye can either help me stop this," Merida ventured, "Save yerselves, yer families, yer children, or ye stand in this madness and fall as this whole castle crumbles around us."

"Maybe ye should leave us," Isla murmured, "I do'nae think this is a good idea…"

"Nay, please," Merida felt the camaraderie falter, slipping through her fingers like ribbons, "If ye help me, we can—!"

"Unfortunately, yer Highness, we're not in need of yer assistance," Isla continued, the girls all standing to curtsy to her. The walls were back up, the distance between their positions solidified again. "If ye'd please leave us to our work."

Merida cursed and turned, fleeing the lower rooms of the castle and back to her room to recoup and decide what next to do.

Hiccup sat at his kitchen table, covered with documents of every shape and size, maps, ledgers, spreadsheets, all stacked over each other in a massive disarray. He didn't know the hour at this point, but he assumed it was fairly late by the darkness and the quiet of his upstairs from Dagur and his son sleeping peacefully above.

Standing, he stretched and heard a complicated series of pops along his neck and back, making him hiss and groan. He went to get a cup of water from what he pulled from the well a few hours earlier when he heard a pounding on his door.

Confused and concerned, he went while it continued in steady, slow thumps of a fist across the wood.

"Coming!" He hollered, "Hold on!"

When he got it open, he was surprised to see that it was Fishlegs.

"Legs! What in the name—!"

"Hic," he stumbled forward, his missing arm bandaged at the elbow and strapped to his side. "I've come to…ask you—!"

"Woah!" Hiccup got him under his remaining arm and lead him inside to his couch. "Easy, Legs!"

He was a flushed, fever pink, his eyes yellowed and lips a strange grayish tinge. He staggered in uneven lurches, still full of some kind of infection even after all these months back home on Berk. Hiccup knew his old friend was struggling and guilt tore at him that he hadn't been more involved, hadn't stopped by to take care of him, or even just to chat. He had so much rage at Ruffnut that he condemned the whole Ingerman family and he regretted his actions then.

"I'm going to get my mom, just stay—!"

"No!" He grabbed Hiccup by the tunic and hauled him back with some strength. "No, that's not—why I came!"

"Okay, okay, just…ease up, let me get you some water at least," he pried his hand off and went to the kitchen, nearly jogging to get him a cup. "Here, old friend, take this."

Legs' one hand shook, but he got it to his mouth to guzzle deeply before he pulled away to pant.

"Hiccup," he begged, drooping, "I've come to ask you to take me back to DunBroch. To fight with you again."

"Legs," he was shaking his head and was interrupted.

"You have to!" He nearly shouted and Hiccup hushed him, trying to keep him calm. "You have to! I have to go to Valhalla, this is my only way—!"

"Legs, I'm not throwing you into battle when you can barely stand. I don't need you there, I need you here. How can I move forward when I lose my righthand man?"

The blond sneered under his mustache, "Astrid will be fine."

"She's my righthand woman," Hiccup assured, sitting next to him. "But you will always be my righthand man. I need you, Legs, I can't let you die for nothing. Can you even ride Meatlug?"

"I can," he slurred, "I can. I can do this, Hiccup, I have to, I have to, Odin must take me into his Golden Hall…"

"You think he won't otherwise?" Hiccup advised. "Please, Legs, I can't let you go."

The other man sniffled, angry and hurt. "So you'd go to get your foreign wife, who cut my Ruffnut's hair, and not even give me the right to an honorable death?"

"Hey, look—what's between our wives is over and has nothing to do with us right now." Hiccup refused to get angry at him, hurt and miserable as they both were. "I don't need you on the battlefield, Fishlegs, but I do need you."

He scoffed, gesturing with his stump, "What good am I?"

"Hey," he tapped his leg with his prosthetic, "What good am I?"

Legs sagged, "I need to restore honor to my name, Hiccup."

"And I'm going to tell you how to do it," he stood and offered him a hand that the other man refused, getting himself up awkwardly. They shuffled to the table, full as it was, Legs immediately pouring over the documents and the numbers with a keen and assessing eye. Hiccup finally saw the man he knew as he began to consume the information around him, always so quick to absorb everything.

"I need to move all of us," Hiccup explained, "And I don't want to launch a single ship."

"…A tidal wave of riders? It'd be nearly impossible," he huffed as he fell into a chair.

"I want to surround DunBroch," he showed him the collection of maps. "I'm thinking of launching groups, each with different routes, different timelines, to approach from different angles. We have friends here and here," he pointed, "The MacIntoshes and MacGuffins are with Merida and us. I want an armada of sea dragons to take their fjord, I want us in their air, I want us on their ground."

"…Your math has to be perfect."

"Well, good thing I have you," Hiccup sat next to him. "You were always best when it came to numbers."

"…You were best with the routes," Legs looked at his map of the Archipelago. "You remember these islands far better than any of us could hope to. Some routes are bound to take longer, we'll have to stagger the groups leaving."

"Exactly what I was thinking!" Hiccup started showing him his plans, "See, these islands here and here and here, all are big enough to host at least a hundred or so dragons and people."

"Why is Arendelle listed here?"

"They're going to aid us, but I have no idea where to put them since they don't have dragons…"

The night continued in planning, Legs growing exhausted after a few hours and Hiccup putting him to rest on the couch. Sharp took up resident on his chest, Wildyr and Maverick having taken a liking to little Knud upstairs and betting down with the father and son duo. It was strange to see how large they had become since they arrived back home, the hatchling the size of Fishlegs stretched out, her black and white tail hanging off the arm of the couch to twitch and flip occasionally.

Toothless picked his head up a little after sunrise, making Hiccup pay attention to the door.

"Now you notice something?" He tossed a balled up piece of parchment at the dragon, "Where was this warning last night?"

Toothless shot the projectile with a huff of weak plasma, evaporating it before it got anywhere near him. He huffed breathily at his rider in wheezy chuckles that made Hiccup roll his eyes.

When the door was accosted, he was prepared and opened it to a panicked Ruffnut.

"Hiccup, please, I can't find—!"

"Right here," he stepped aside, seeing that her hair had been trimmed and unknotted and seemed to be uniform at her shoulders. "Deep breath, he's fine."

"Oh, thank the gods!" She dove for Fishlegs, who was struggling to get up and wrap his one arm around her shoulders. Jarred from her position, Sharp hissed and fluttered to her father by the door, who raised his leathery black wing to tuck her smaller body close to his. "You fucking idiot man! Sneaking out of my bed in the middle of the night! I should kill you for the insult!"

"I'm sorry, honey-pie," he nuzzled her cheek and Hiccup looked away at the sharp pang of jealousy that nauseated him. "I was foolish for many things last night, but Hiccup helped me."

"I can't believe you…walked all the way up the hill," Ruffnut gasped, a few tears in her eyes and on her face, making Hiccup blink in shock. "I'm so proud of you!"

"I came to beg him to let me go to battle, to meet Odin and my father in the Great Hall of the gods," he admitted, "He refused me."

Ruffnut bit her lip, not wanting to admit that she was pleased with that.

"He helped me see a new purpose, so that I might stay with you on Midgard," he kissed her wet cheek. "If you'll keep this idiot man for a little longer."

"Of course!" She sobbed, "The only person allowed to take you from this world is me! Do you hear me?!"

Legs chuckled weakly, his skin an ashen gray in the morning light. "Yes, dear."

Hiccup helped him on his feet, Ruffnut under his one arm to keep him steady.

"I'll send my mother down to check on you, Fishlegs. I think she might be able to do a little bit more than Gothi, just don't ever tell her I said so, okay?"

"Done," he smiled and they began to limp away.

Ruff turned her head over her shoulder, eyes leaking and mouthed, Thank you.

He nodded, You're welcome.

"Maid!"

Merida winced, ducking her head and turning to face a random blond man, hands clasped to appear demure and subservient.

"Where are ye headed off to in such a dark part of the castle, lass?" The man sauntered up, his tartan of red, green, and yellow unfamiliar to Merida.

"I was told to clean out some o' the rooms, sir," she gestured vaguely, trying to lilt her voice higher and avoid his gaze. She had a very recognizable face, even thought her hair was completely hidden under the cap she wrestled it under.

"…There are rooms down here?"

"Aye," there were, though mostly filled with spare bits of carriage parts and horse gear. "I do'nae ken the reason why, I just do as I'm told!"

"Huh," he saddled a little closer and Merida resisted the urge to back away. "So…ye're a good little thing and listen when asked, aye?"

"…When it involves my job, sir, aye," she tried to be firm, but her heart was already starting to race.

"And, if, say," he ran his finger along her arm and she flinched, "That I needed some relief and it certainly involves yer job?"

Her fists clenched, a knuckle popped.

"Then…" she turned and gestured with her weak chin, "Follow me, m'lord."

She forced a door open to a room, the immediate smell of stale air and rotten wood hitting them. She leaned back to let him pass, his hands already on the belt holding his kilt on, leering at her.

"Take the dress off," he commanded roughly and she swallowed bile to smile wantonly, batting her lashes.

"Turn around," she muttered coyly, eying the broken and splintering axe handle at her feet.

"Och, want to play it that way then? Fine," he spun around, dropping the kilt and bearing an incredibly furred ass. She winced, bent and took hold of the handle, before rustling her skirts around to make him think she was undressing.

Getting a good grip on her weapon, she braced her feet and cocked the handle over her shoulder.

"I'm ready," she purred.

The shift from lust to fear in his eyes was thrilling. With a grunt, Merida broke the wood across his temple and sent him sprawling into a pile of debris, surely going to hurt like Hell in the morning.

"Oh, fuck me, tha' felt good," she hissed, dropping the makeshift weapon. "Serves ye right, harrassin' a hardworkin' lass in the middle of the goddamn day."

Spitting on him, she knew that he'd be out for several hours and she slipped out into a back pathway that her father had showed her when she was young. It had flooded with the spring rains and her shoes and stockings were soaked and filthy, but she tied her hem at her waist and trudged through the muck to be spat out near the stables. She hid in the shadows, the sun dipping below the tree line in the west, nervous about all the random clansmen that were stalking the grounds.

They were empty, for the most part. There seemed to be only one horse remaining, a familiar black mane making her gasp in heartache.

"Angus," she whispered, crawling forward and ducking around to make sure she wasn't noticed.

Whinnying in panic, her Clydesdale bucked and kicked against the walls of the stall and screaming in fury.

"Angus!" She hissed, grabbing for his mane, "Shh, laddie, easy!"

The horse settled, but Merida's eyes were keen and sharp as she started to see what had happened to poor beloved steed. He was thinner than he ought to be, his coat dull and unbrushed or cleaned, his hooves not taken care off and one might even be cracked.

"Now I'll kill someone," she got hold of his head, bowing him down to see her, recognize her, "Now, my dear, I will slaughter anyone who dared to hurt ye. Oh, Angus…"

The boys were too young to really know better, but her father had no excuse, or the stablehands.

"I've got ye, lad. Always have, I'm sorry I left ye, but we'll put it to rights, aye?"

She snuck back out, surprised to not see a single soul, and grabbed all the tools necessary to make sure he was at least relieved. She picked his hooves clean of dirt and debris, tucking his massive leg between her own to work on him. She didn't have to do it often, but Merida did not shirk the responsibilities of the things she loved, and her heart broke to see Angus so skittish, so hurt, so poorly handled.

"If mum really loved me," she muttered furiously under her breath, "She would have taken care of ye, Angus, not bothered tryin' to start a damn feud with my husband to get me back…"

It took her nearly and hour to pry the outgrown horseshoes off, then go about trimming his hooves with a sharp and flexible blade.

It was what they both needed. Merida always ran to Angus when she was upset or fearful, taking care of him made her feel strong and capable. No one could barely ride the beast like her, just like Solasta, his temperament always having been somewhat dangerous and confrontational. She clipped away the edge and then began to scrape it down with a rasp, her mind in a meditative state with each and every step she learned since she was a small girl.

"If anyone should ever need a royal farrier," she dropped on leg to move on to the next, patting the wide side of Angus, "I think I just might make the cut, my love!"

The work continued until the sun set, Merida tapping in the new correct shoes with a steady hand. She was lucky enough to find a pair in the abandoned stable, but she wished that Hiccup was there just to smith her a brand new pair for her horse.

Peering into his mouth and prying at his lips and gums, she noticed that some of his teeth uneven and causing issues surely in his eating. Merida didn't have the right tools or the extra hands to handle it, but flushed his gums the best she could with fresh water and mucked his stall.

She nearly quit halfway through and wondered if she should set him free, into the woods, where he might find a better life. But she shook the desire and leaned against his side in exhaustion. She eyed her work, feeling like she was missing something but unable to put her finger on it.

"Ye want to ride a bit, lad?"

He whinnied, softly, and she wondered if there was a way to get out of the walled city without getting noticed.

"Give me a moment," she murmured, "I might know a way."

If the damage to the castle hadn't been handled, she wondered if the destruction to the western wall might have been ignored for the sake of preserving whatever resources for weapons and the like. Unfortunately, this was next to the dragon-pit, which was surely being maintained at most hours.

She crept around, nervous, ducking left and hiding behind the dragon cages. The beasts barely moved and she tiptoed near when she heard laughter and slurred speech of men.

"—bitch fuckin' hit me!"

"Serves ye right!" Another cackled in tune with the torches.

Tipping he head a bit, she saw that it was the man she beat hours before. She sneered, dipping back down behind some barrels, and crawling on her hands and knees to the the area where the wall was busted through by some massive dragon she couldn't remember. The destruction had indeed remained, but it was apparently where most of the goods and weapons were being moved and transported, a secret portal that was full of weapons and dangerous bits.

A tub was soaking bones and teeth and claws, bleaching and hardening them. There was dragon flesh in another, pieces of bubbly Gronkle hide, handfuls of sharp, serrated scales. It was awful and the stench made her gag, wanting to kick the barrels and tubs over to ruin. But if she were to be caught, her mother might skin her alive next. After the display the other day during breakfast, Merida wasn't sure what her mother was capable of now that her mind was nearly lost to hatred.

She had to distract the men to pass them with her horse and gods only knew how she'd get back in. Merida snuck back around, picking up handfuls of stones for some of the Gronkles in case they started to huff, but paused in shocked horror as the torch lights cast enough of a glow for her to see inside the cages.

One had been skinned, it seemed, that day. The raw, oozing patch of pink flesh and black blood was a perfect rectangle that had the dragon passed out and dizzy in pain. Merida noticed, too, that they had sliced the wings to ribbons so that it could never fly away.

"Ohh," she gasped, seeing it's slack eyes and tongue lolling out to pant shallowly. She covered her mouth to stifle a sob and cursed the cruelties of hateful men.

"Do'nae worry, poor thing," she whispered to it, it's yellow eyes rolling as she slid a few rocks past the bars of its prison. "Hiccup shall come and we'll slaughter them all, I swear to ye."

His tongue twitched, reaching for the treats, but it gave up and didn't move further.

Biting her lip and cheek until she tasted blood, Merida swore that she'd make these men pay.

Her ride forgotten, she returned back up and into the castle to begin a new plan.

'Everyone just hold on!' She swore to them, 'I'm comin' for ye!'

"This will be the biggest move we've ever made," Hiccup pointed to his maps. "It will be staggered, in groups. I'm mindful of your…agreements and disagreements with each other, so I've made selections based on which teams have certain kinds of dragons and who will do best together.

"The flights will be done in stages, you will fly for so many hours a day, considering the slowest and heaviest among your collection. I have divided up rations, added up the weight of goods and materials, and considered every single flight path. The weather is good this time of year, gods be willing, and we will all arrive at the same time in DunBroch. In a single morning, a thousand dragons will fill the skies like a cloud and block out the sun like a promise of death. Hela and Loki themselves could dare not do better, they will think Berk has summoned Ragnärok."

"…Are ye sure it'll work, son?" Stoick ventured.

"Fishlegs and I worked the math out together, the timing, everything. From the weakest Gronkle to the fastest Furies. Everyone will have some rations, but I know these islands, I've explored them, scoped them, spent time on them. They have fish and fresh water, enough for a day to recuperate and then off to the next meeting point.

"The issue will be the province on DunBroch," he lied through his teeth. "I don't know what's become of it. I'm certain it's not good, but that's yet to be seen."

"Well, ye left someone in charge," Chief Ulf muttered, "Have they spoken with ye?"

"No, none of us can reach them. And what we send gets sent back, the Terrors come up empty handed."

"Dead then," Dagur muttered. "Probably the first slaughtered when all this began. All of them at once so no one could get to us. Any word about the dragons?"

"Probably the same," Hiccup guessed.

"I wouldn't just say they're gone, Hic," Astrid offered, "Why let something with all that go to waste?"

"…You'd think they'd try to break them down, make weapons of some kind?" MacGuffin and MacIntosh had all but assured it, but they weren't privy to everything happening inside the castle walls.

She shrugged, turning to her husband, who sighed. "There has always been a big and powerful trapping tradition down south. If they found even a single tribe or clan that might be willing to divulge what they know or sell the parts and pieces for a bit of coin," she shook his head, "I'm betting there's some blood being shed."

"But we've stopped the trapping!" Snotlout proclaimed, "Hel, Tuff and I have been to the ends of the known world stopping these guys!"

"They can hide in plain sight," Eret rubbed the back of his neck. "It's…families do it, pass it down from father to son. Just because they quit for awhile doesn't mean they'll ever really stop. A dragon gets too close…starts attacking a village. For people who don't know how to handle them, a single Nadder can wipe out a whole village in a night. They sell their services and get rid of it and sell it for chunks."

"As barbarous as we were," Stoick shook his head, "Least we never sold the carcasses…"

"None of that matters, we have no proof of anything. It's all a mess and we just have to make sure that we surround DunBroch with our soldiers at the right time."

Hiccup held up a calendar. "We can't support this many dragons and Vikings on the islands much longer. The first group goes out in three days, with the next two in three days and so on. The fastest of us leave four days before we convene on DunBroch. In thirty days time, we will have them by the throats."

Valka examined it carefully, "Then we must consider what must be done with them once it comes to fruition."

"What is there to discuss?" Heather growled. "They insult us and break oaths and contracts. They must be killed."

"They are the girl's family," Stoick rubbed his temples. "It would be troublesome for Hiccup and her."

"Surely even she realizes what they have done is wrong!" Dagur rubbed his bearded chin. "She turns against her own people for ours."

"That does not mean it is not hard," Hiccup quoted her, remembering her struggling. "Right or wrong gets more gray when you see both sides of the problem."

There was a sigh, "Then what? They can't live!"

"We may have to drop them off on an island somewhere," Bertha offered, "A knife and some water. If they survive, it is the gods will."

"No, there—no!" Hiccup huffed. "We will put them somewhere. A prison of some kind, maybe one of her people will know where…" He bit his thumbnail. "And the boys, the princes. They will be taken in under my name."

Brows raised, "You'd adopt them?"

"I took in one," he shrugged with a little smile, "What's three more?"

One old man shook his head, "This is all very irregular…"

"When has my son ever done things as we would have?" Stoick sighed. "It has ended up saving us in many ways, so I will not question him."

"Oh, really?" Hiccup laughed, teasing him, "Where is the man that cannot go an hour without questioning all my plans?"

Stoick shook his graying head and patted his shoulder.

"If anyone can make this madness work, it's ye, son. We follow ye, to the end."

"And then back again!" Astrid grinned, "I still have babies to look after, you know."

They agreed, nodding, passing mead around in cups the cheer to the success of their ventures. They poured a bit onto the ground for the gods before crashing them together.

"Sköl!"

There would be no ships set into the water like the wars of old, but it would be a tale that would become part of the sagas and never forgotten.

Merida grabbed a blade to deal with whoever was gently knocking at her door, yanking it open to see a small girl with strawberry blonde hair staring up at her with bright azure eyes. Merida grabbed her and hauled her inside before slamming the door shut.

"Who are ye?" She hissed, pressing the blade against her throat, "Ye have about a minute before I slit ye from navel to nose."

"I-i-it's Maisie!" She hissed, "Put that thing down!"

She looked so different with her hair down that she didn't recognize her, Merida immediately stepping back.

"What're ye doin' here, lass?!"

"Did ye mean what ye said?" Maisie grabbed her by the arm. "Yer husband comes? The dragons? Everythin'?"

"Uh…aye, he will, eventually, but I know not—!"

"Shh!" Maisie put a hand over her mouth and Merida glared, resisting the urge to break a finger, "My father and his friends are dissenters from this. I don't have much time, so ye must listen while I have ye—

"Yer mother and father are starvin' us. None at the castle are bein' paid a dime, just meals and board. All of us are sufferin', our wages gone to whatever war preparations are bein' made. The Clansmen from the MacKenzie, Cameron, Macleans, and Dingwalls have destroyed the village, taken homes for themselves and tormented the people. We are without income, food, and livelihoods unless ye are workin' to siege the Vikings.

"They have boats at the harbor, covered in metal and filled with traps and cages to capture dragons. Ye have heard how they cry out in the night, mistress! 'Tis a terrible thing if I ever heard it…but ye must do something!"

"We must do somethin'. Are ye a mouse or a Scott?"

"I—I can'nae—!"

"If ye can face childbirth and rearin' a babe, ye can face the battlefield, lass. Trust me on that, I've seen them both and I know which I prefer," Merida hissed, pressing her dirk into Maisie's grip. "This has my symbol on it. Ye will speak with yer father and those that are against this madness. Once Hiccup gives me word, I shall pass it to all of ye and we shall move. But first, let's make life hard for them, aye?"

"How?" She shook.

"Shrink their clothes, I will break the weapons they make, send my brothers to wreak havoc in their wake. When Hiccup comes, they will try to use what they have and realize that nothing will work," Merida crowed and cupped her chin in her hand. "Can ye be strong, girl? Can ye be iron-hearted?"

"…Will they kill us?" She whispered, "Will yer new people slaughter us?"

"Nay, because I will'nae let them. I am both. I am more than DunBroch, or Berk. I stand for all of us, yer suffering and those that fell in the Berk province. No more will be lost save those that cannot repent. D'ye hear me? Ye must tell them this, Maisie, an oath to an oath—should they stand with me at the night's end, they will walk away."

"I can, I can do this," she nodded, stuttering to put the knife away.

"Ye are fire, girl!" Merida shook her shoulders, "Now, go! Ye were never here!"

They peeked into the hallway and Merida took her to a special corridor. "This'll take ye to the kitchens. Tell no one but yer people."

"We're with ye, Merida the Brave," Maisie whispered, "We're with ye!"

She disappeared and Merida felt it in her like breathing fire, the swell that filled her chest, made her grin, heart pounding.

Things weren't right, but the pieces were falling into place. The chess board moved, but the corners were supported.

"Still can'nae sleep?" Stoick asked, sitting next to Hiccup in the dim fires of the nearly empty Great Hall.

"I can," he rubbed Toothless' head, "Just goin' over this again."

"Son, ye'll break yer head in two," he patted him on the shoulder. "Have a drink with me."

"…Sure," he rubbed his eyes, aching and strained, "I could use one."

Stoick returned with something dark and strong, making Hiccup wonder just where the old man was hiding the good stuff. The twinkle in his eye made Hiccup realize that he'd never tell him until he begged.

"This is all I used to be able to do, ye know," Stoick commented after a few sips. "Drink and wallow."

Hiccup hummed.

"I'm glad I do'nae have to anymore."

"…Is it weird?" Hiccup asked, "Having her back? Did things…change?"

He was so looking forward to having Merida back, he didn't think he'd care if everything was different. He'd learn to live with it, as long as she was with him.

"Of course," he huffed. "So many old hurts that never were laid to rest. Issues that I thought we'd never have again were still there, just different. We'd both lived alone for so long, we barely knew how to live with each other to begin with, let alone after so many years." He gave a great and terrible sigh, "So many old wounds…"

"Dad…why did you…never remarry? Even for political reasons?"

Stoick shot him a look, "Why d'ye think, son? Would ye, even after a dozen years?"

"Well…I don't think I could ever love again, but…wouldn't it have been easier?"

"Maybe when it came to lookin' after ye or somethin' but how was I to share a bed with a poor woman when my heart was always hooked to Valka's? How is that fair?"

"Live isn't fair, so why should we be?" Hiccup muttered into his glass, remembering his conversation with Merida.

"Perhaps, but…nay, I just could'nae even stomach the thought of it. The physical is one thing, but the emotional? Nay, impossible."

Hiccup just sighed, knowing just how he felt.

"And ye?" Stoick wondered. "If I begged ye to bed Camicazi, would ye?"

"No, I'd…ugh," she shivered, disgusted. "No. Just…no."

Stoick laughed at him. "Ehh, indeed, her whole family is…eh—?"

"Insane?"

"Well, yes."

Hiccup snorted.

Moments passed in silence and drinking, the warmth making Hiccup feel drowsy and loose.

"Can I ask you…why you agreed?" Hiccup felt bolder, enough to ask the questions he had never dared before.

"To?"

"The arranged marriage."

"I could ask ye the same."

"The people and the dragons aren't enough?"

"Aren't they?" Stoick teased. "I know ye too well, my son. Should things not go yer way, ye'll take that girl and the dragons and disappear. Ye've sworn to me so much already."

"So…why?" Hiccup leaned on his elbows. "I know you've been approached by at least a dozen or so offers to…marry me off and you always declined and let me have my choice. Why this time?"

"Ah, well...We were stretched so thin—"

"No, we would have had them in another month or so. So, really…when the Bear King approached you and said, 'Here's my daughter, take her!' and you agreed—why?"

"It…I do'nae know if I can even explain it, son…it felt…"

Hiccup waited.

"I do'nae know if it was the man, so stooped and broken. I do'nae know if it's how he described her, how he swore she would be able to fit in even among enemies, she did'nae match with her kins-people. It…remind me of ye, I think."

"…What do you mean?"

"The man said…ahh, it's been so long already, I can'nae exactly recall. But that Merida was never really…like any other, I s'pose. How strong she was, how others feared that strength. It was so obvious he hated what he was doin', but his faith in her was very real. Or that's how it was transcribed to me, we had a man there to translate between us.

"And ye were always so…" he flicked his hand.

"Really, dad? You just gestured to—!"

"All of ye, yes, I did. Ye are so different, always were. An outcast, an outsider, even among yer own people. Hel, even among yer own family." He bowed his head a bit in regret. "And I thought…maybe…'if Hiccup could give dragons a home on Berk, maybe he could give this girl one as well.' I don't know!" He shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted it to be over and done with and to get the fuck out of that swampland."

"…Do you think it was fate?" Hiccup ventured. His father was like most Vikings—he believed in the gods only when it suited him or he was spited by them. He performed the rites and lead the people, but he wasn't as deeply intertwined in it all like his mother was.

"I do'nae know what else to call it, son!" Stoick shook his head with a chuckle. "Nothin' could make ye turn from Astrid. Oh, yer moonin' drove us all nearly insane. Better than ye are now, by thunder, but still! I wanted to ring yer neck some days with it all."

"Oh, thank you for summing that up."

"But it's true! And then…well, I saw ye, boy."

"When?"

"The whole—day!" Stoick shrugged. "She walked by her father and I remember thinkin' 'Now here's a girl with spirit!' And when I looked in your face, ye were just…entranced. Right from the beginning. And the whole night, ye watched her. How she moved, how she acted, what she did. She hated it, too, poor thing, 'cause she hated ye, but…I felt like it would be all right after that. Because at least she turned yer head, ye were finally movin' forward from what held ye back and for that alone I was grateful."

Hiccup smiled into the little bit of amber liquid at the bottom of his cup, "I was angry with you for awhile. But then…not so much anymore."

"Hmm," Stoick smiled behind the rim. He polished the rest of his off then produced a flask, pouring them each a little more.

"So that's where you're getting it."

"Well, we can't all have the finest stuff from the Hydrefolk," he sniffed.

Shaking his head, Hiccup agreed and they drank a little more in silence.

"…D'ye think she's really with child, son?"

"I…Fuck, dad, I don't know," he carded his fingers through his hair. "Astrid told me that if I start trying to dissect every little thing she did while we were in Arendelle, I'll drive myself nuts. Well…more nuts."

"…D'ye want her to be?"

"…Yes. No. I don't know!" He felt a little helpless. "I want more time with her where it's just us, but…also…I wouldn't hate it." He glanced up at him, a little smile on his mouth. "Ready to be a grandfather?"

"More than!" He harrumphed, "Honestly, if she was, this probably would have never happened!"

"Aw, c'mon, dad—!"

"I'm serious, they would'nae be able to carry her if she was round and fat!"

"You—!" Hiccup dissolved into laughter, "You're ridiculous."

Stoick smiled from under his beard. "It's good to see ye laugh, son. It feels like it's been an age."

"Yeah, it does," he lifted his mug, "To the finest of the Hydrefolk!"

They cheered before downing the liquid. Hiccup hissed at the burn, eyes watering to see his father offering him the flask.

"Sure," he rasped, coughing a bit while his father poured him more. "Why not?"

"Exactly, no reason not to enjoy the evening. A little bit of peace before the madness begins."

Their cups clattered together.

"I hope they have her eyes," Hiccup murmured. "Our…kids. Gods, that's weird to think about."

"Ye're tellin' me!"

"I just want her home," he sighed. "I don't want this to keep…happening."

"After this, it's done," Stoick swore. "Gods be willing."

"…Maybe it's because I didn't pray hard enough," Hiccup sighed. "Gobber said I should have covered the altars of Frigg and Frey in gifts for her presence in my life. And I didn't, so maybe…"

"Bah," Stoick waved, "The gods give and take, Hiccup. Always have."

Toothless licked his hand as a farewell, going out to check on his mate and hatchlings.

"Yeah…gave me a dragon. And then baby dragons!" He laughed. "I'm so glad they get to live on. I was so afraid he'd never…find anything close to his species or love if that's what we want to call it."

"Why not?" Stoick shrugged. "I'd say he loves the dragon. Maybe ye're right, boy, maybe it really was all one big knot in the Norn's web."

"I think so," Hiccup really did. "I don't know how else we could explain it."

"So ye're fated to be, fated to win?"

"I don't know about that, that's what worries me," Hiccup admitted. "Give and take…this might be the taking part, dad."

"What are ye thinkin' then, son?" Stoick asked. "Ye always have a plan. So tell me."

"…I had a dream," Hiccup admitted, non sequitur, "Some nights ago."

"Hm."

"An eagle across the sky, the gold in it's wings catching the sun. I was on the back of Toothless, next to it, when it soared above us and transformed into an eye, staring down on us like the sun. It was white, though, all white, and the sky turned red like blood and fire. And when I woke, I…I could barely move," he admitted. "What do you think it means?"

"Do'nae ask me questions I could'nae hope to answer, son," Stoick murmured. "I say go to Uppsala and seek the gods' aid."

"That's a days walk—!"

"Fly there."

"The dragons aren't allowed on sacred lands."

"Odin is callin' to ye, Hiccup, that much I do know. His one eye sees us, perhaps he sees Merida, as far away as she is. Ye must consult the priests there."

"Maybe he calls for a sacrifice," Hiccup sighed, "Although I don't know how much more I can give."

Stoick rose from the table, forcing Hiccup to the do the same. He dribbled some of his fine mead to the floor and his son followed suit. The older man grabbed him by the arm and Hiccup reached out to do the same, steadying each other.

"There is always more to give—so offer it up before they take it out from underneath ye."

Stoick knocked back the rest of his drink and Hiccup, worried, did the same.