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

Chapter 34

War

Hiccup stretched his aching legs by the fire, solemn and quiet as an empty grave. His mother watched from the other side as he fed more wood to the embers, his eyes tracking the licks of flames and the spurting jolts of sparks that reached up to the sky as if he could divine from the gods. The sun was just breaching the horizon and they were settling down for a bright and brief rest, the quickest flyers the last behind in his massive sky-bound army.

He checked his compass, the encroaching sun, and the map in front of him for what seemed like the hundredth time in the last hour. Six Terrible Terrors had arrived in the night, informing him of the groups that had made it to their designated areas and had hunkered down in preparation for the oncoming night and the promise of a bloody sunrise.

The last they were waiting on was information from the fleet of ships from Arendelle, but Hiccup would not wait for them should they be too slow. He'd collect their gems to his best ability and return them, but their involvement was contingent upon their arrival and he really didn't have much need for them. This was as show of force and he fully intended to make a great and terrible production of it.

Come the next morning, the sunrise would meet with a black cloud of dragons.

By nightfall, he'd have Merida back in his arms again.

He glanced at her letter, her poor runes, her messy grammar. Still, it was more than he could have ever asked her for. She had given him a slew of information, including that her family had a poorly drawn map with the intention to infiltrate the Confederacy after a victory. They were conspiring with the southern islands, known for their trappers, and had special armored vehicles with the intention of capturing dragons to break them down. Her account of those actions had made him sick, his mother had cried, even Astrid and his father looked suspiciously green.

What made him ache was that she apologized. That she felt guilty, that she felt helpless among her own, that she couldn't make them stop even from within. Something in it told him that she felt that the entire event fell across her shoulders as if she was the one that brought them to this madness.

"Son," his mother cautioned, looking older and worn down in the glow of the firelight. "I must speak with ye."

"Not now," he muttered, staring, thinking.

"Now is all we have," she reasoned, quietly. "I may not live after tomorrow."

He shot her a furious glance, "Don't speak like that. This isn't going to devolve into—!"

"It just may," she cut him off, "And I must tell you something. I've kept a thousand lies for so long and it weighs against my soul, my son. So hear me, if ye can."

Hiccup swallowed, putting his papers down and watching his mother with his matching set of eyes.

"Son…I will ask that ye forgive me, but I understand if ye do not wish to. What I've done…what I've always done, I did it with ye and yer best interest at heart."

"Mother, if this is about what's happened before—?"

"No. No, son. This is about what is happenin' now. While we were together, all four of us, in Arendelle, I counceled both yer father and Merida. I nodded and agreed to yer original plan, to trap them on their boat and speak to them independently, but I…"

She swallowed and Hiccup understood.

"You changed my plan."

"I did."

"…To?"

"…I told Merida to go," she whispered, "I told her that she needed to go within her old walls, to break them down, as she has. She has played the role that I gave her, the one I forced her hand into. I knew that they would come and I knew that they would take her and yer father and I intended to hold ye and the dragons at bay until she was back in DunBroch, so that she could…"

"Condemn her family," he sighed through his nose. "You used her. You're no better than them."

She winced at his cool words. He supposed she expected fury, rage, madness and mayhem, but all he felt was exhaustion. The betrayal rose in his throat like acid and he struggled to swallow down the hurt.

"I did what I thought was best and she agreed, son, she did because she knew—!"

"She knows her position is more precarious than mine," he muttered. "You forced her hand into something awful, mother, and I have no doubt you hinged it all upon me. How could she ever look at you the same? I know I can't."

Valka swallowed a little gasp. "But…she has helped us, ye know that…!"

"Yes, but now I wonder if it was because she really wanted to or if she was manipulated by you," he hissed that out, wanting to stand but his legs were too sore from flying for so long. "C'mon, mom—! Are you—are you serious right now?"

She looked away, biting her lip.

"You forced my wife to lie to my face. You sent her into a den of wolves. You endangered her life and you plied her with promises of her family. Didn't you?" She was silent. "Answer me!"

"Yes…yes, I did. And although I am sorry for hurtin' ye both, for endangerin' her life and perhaps yer child, I am not sorry for what I did. I thought it was best. Yer father agreed. And I still think it was for the best. And—!"

"She might die, we all might. I dragged nearly all of our provinces here, signed them up for a battle that may kill thousands of us. People might not go home, mother. Least of all, us."

She turned away, her brow and eyes lowered.

"Shame on you, mother. Shame on you," he shook his head. The sun dawned, red and damning, tinging everything pink in its wake like a freshly exposed organ. "You swore to me, once. That you were her advocate, that if you thought it was best for her you'd pick her up and take her away from me. You swore if I hurt her, you'd leave with her."

She said nothing.

"But then you turned your back on her. You abandoned her and isolated her with your plan and your secrets. She knew what you told her—and you told her that if she told me, I wouldn't let her go."

"Would ye have?" She fired.

"…No," he shrugged, "And gods only know what might have happened instead?"

She clucked her tongue against the roof of her mouth. "Yer plan was foolish, ye know this. They'd take her head, boy, Toothless or no."

"We'll never know, will we?" He sighed through his nose. "Because you had no faith in me."

His mother hissed.

"I was protecting ye."

"After all these years?" His voice was light, but he knew he was setting fire to kindling. "How generous of you, mom."

"I thought it was best!"

"Just like you did when you left me," he gave her a self-righteous and infuriating simper. "In a burning house. Alone."

"Ye…ye have no idea—!"

"Actually, I think I have the best idea. Out of everyone here. You did this." He felt like Merida, her arrows, going for the heart, hoping to strike true. "You made this worse than it could have been. You brought all these people here. You started this war up again, which is so—just, wow!" He shook his head. "All the arguments, all the fights. How many times did you call me selfish? Cruel? No better than Drago? And then, you have the audacity to pull this?! Your hypocrisy is painful, mother."

She resolutely pinched her mouth shut, fury in every feature.

"What did you promise her? For her silence?" He was not a fool, no matter how much his heart loved. He had more faith in Merida than most, but he knew that for her to turn on him and silence herself to secrecy would only be done in promise of something else.

"I swore ye'd forgive her, for her betrayal. And that we'd keep her siblings on Berk. And that her parents would live."

"And dad agreed to that?" Hiccup scoffed.

"He did. Because he trusts me."

"And she trusted me," he snarled. "She had faith in me. Unlike you, unlike dad. She believed in me to keep her safe."

"But she knew I was right, son!" She fought, tears in her eyes. "She bowed her head and bent. So that she wouldn't break."

"And how do you know that this won't break her?" He whispered, suddenly so, so, tired. He palmed his aching head, his shoulders slumping. "Mom…I can't even begin to fathom how she feels. If someone asked me to betray you, even after all the bullshit between us, even if you had turned against us…I don't know if I could do it. And even if I could…how…how could anyone even ask?"

She huffed out a plaintive burst of air. "I had to, Hiccup, I had to. She was the only one that could assure us—!"

"She will never be the same," he whispered. "Oh, fuck…"

There would be no happy reunion, which he knew was a long shot to begin with. But he had hoped that she would rush into his arms, sob and beg him to take her home. His people would rejoice at her return and he'd introduce her to Dagur, to Heather, to the others, as the mother of his children, the wife that summoned ten-thousand dragons. He believed them to have their happy ending after all, but that would not be.

"How could you?" He was afraid to rise above a whisper, lest it lead him to screaming.

"…I had to—!"

"No, how…how could you do it? Why?"

"Because," she sobbed, "My choice will always be ye, son. I would give up yer happiness if it meant yer life and assured yer position."

"You have no right to make such promises," he closed his eyes, feeling pressure build up all along his neck and back and shoulders, a terrible knotted patchwork. "You know you didn't. That's why you told me."

"…I…I know that ye must think—!"

"I don't think you do. And, truthfully? I don't have the time or the emotional strength to begin with you, nor do you have any right to my feelings at this moment. You betrayed me, mom. You betrayed her and me and my trust."

"Hiccup—!"

"Stop. Just…stop." He bowed his head. "Sleep. Rest. Be ready for tomorrow."

"Son," she swallowed, "I cannot…I can'nae live with myself if ye can'nae forgive me."

"…If she can manage it, I can as well. You will have to ask her."

She sniffed, rubbed her nose with the back of her armored arm, then turned to her bedroll.

"For what it's worth…I am sorry, son. I love her. But I've always…I love ye most."

"That's fine," he muttered, "But she's my choice now, mom. Not the village, not you or dad. She's it. I had to move past you eventually and start a new life, a new family, a new line. That's what you do when you have kids—they grow up. Take up another route, a new path. You've blocked it from me."

"…She was blessed by the gods, Hiccup," she continued to try to justify it.

"And so was I," he revealed, making her mutter a shocked gasp. "But the gods can be as cruel as they are kind. Go," he clucked his tongue. "I will wake you when it's time to move out."

She opened her mouth, more excuses in her face, but something in his dark eyes silenced her. Then she bunked down and rolled away from him, crying quietly.

Hiccup scrawled one last letter to Merida and attached it to Aiden, to be delivered in the night.

Tomorrow, he eyed the rising sun. Tomorrow I'll have her, she'll be back again with me.

Where she belongs.

"Boys!" Merida hissed, grabbing hold of them, rousing them from their beds, "Time to go, get up, get up!"

"Meri?" They yawned and whined, exhausted.

"Come on, shh, there's a good lad," she helped them dress, laying out their tartans, wiping sleep from their eyes and putting small packs on their backs. "Come on, Hamish!"

He lagged, like always, putting on his boots.

"Now—silence, my dears. Quiet as lambs, aye?" They shuffled their feet, faces ashen and pinched.

"Meri…?"

"Trust in me, okay? No matter what happens, ye will be safe, this I swear to ye."

"I want to help ye—!"

"Ye can only do that when ye are safe and out of the way. I swear one day, lads, one day I will put a blade in yer hands and I will teach ye to wield them. But only against those that are yer enemies, not against helpless things. D'ye hear me?"

They stuttered and nodded.

"Good. Now, follow me."

They crept through dark passages used for servants, then a secret tunnel that led them to the topmost spire of the castle. The hour was ungodly early, but they still tiptoed all the way up to the top. Despite the sure warmth of the summer, it was still chilled and they huffed out a frustrated grunt at being so uncomfortable. Merida ripped off the tartan blanket at her hips and wrapped it around the triplets, watching the moving shadows of the stars that promised a storm of dragons that came on the skies. Some might be able to see the gently undulations, the swaying of a million wings that beat against the sky in tandem. Already she could just hear the kicking up of the wind, unnatural and too swift, a storm made up of tens of thousands of wingbeats.

Hiccup was here, with an army.

For her.

(It did not give her any pleasure.)

Tightening her grip around the boys, she pressed a kiss to each of their brows. They were too frightened to fight her off.

Moments ticked by, the eastern edge of the woods growing just a little more pale with the encroaching sunrise. Her breath stuttered out of her chest, her heart thrummed painfully against her ribs, her fingers clenching and unclenching against their shoulders and her own palms.

In between blinks, Solasta appeared and dropped the cloaking ability around her scaled skin.

The boys all gasped and gaped, yanking against her grip.

Merida immediately stuttered out an aching sob as she embraced the dragon, her wide head nudging against her shoulder as she cooed and clicked and nuzzled her sloppily plaited hair in an attempt to see if she was injured. Her skin was warmed immediately by the natural heat, the smell of ozone and bright expanse of sky making Merida want to run off with the boys but she held herself back. She pulled away and they stared into each other's eyes, reading and understanding and assessing all at once. They greeted each other as long lost friends, silent as death in the gentle light of predawn.

On the back, strapped down, was her brilliant armor. The same lurch hit her as when she first saw it—awed by the beauty of it, the craftsmanship, the fine make. But it made her sick to have to wear it, to have to use it, to need it. Her bow and arrows were underneath and a sharp sword that would slot into a hook at her hip.

"Time to go, boys," she whispered, picking up Hubert. He wriggled and strained, but she was stronger. "Hold on—there, yes, good." She tossed Hamish and Harris up right next to him, scrabbling to get ahold of each other and the awkward seat.

"Meri—!"

"No, silence," she swore to them, "Solasta—low and slow. Hide them well."

The dragon nodded, her instinct to protect strong within her. Understanding swelled between them.

"Ye will go to the heart of the Viking encampment, but do'nae be afraid. I will be there with ye, in spirit and soon in person. Ye go straight to Hiccup, d'ye ken me? Do not stop until ye see him—then ye announce yerselves, who ye are. And only then. Understood?"

They nodded, shaking. She tightened the blanket around them, making sure they clung to the right place.

"Solasta, keep them safe." She murmured, "Hide well, my darlin'. And thank ye."

For them. For me. For comin' all this way and fightin' tooth and nail to have me back.

The white dragon blinked her blue eyes and disappeared, making the boys gasp and pat the body that was there but did not appear to them.

"Do'nae pull anythin' or yank. Just hold onto each other and ye'll be fine."

"Meri, I'm frightened…"

"Never fear when I am at yer backs, boys. I will always be there for ye, just as I have always been. Go. Go now!"

The dragon raced off and she watched as one reached for her, wanting to return but was taken into the darkness.

She calmed her racing heart and set herself into her armor, pulling at the belts and attempting to ease her breathing in preparation. Her fingers ached with the cold and shook with adrenaline and nerves, but she steeled herself with the blade at her waist and the arrows along her back.

I am Merida Haddock. I fly on the backs of dragons.

I will not fail.

She snuck back down into the castle. She passed three doors, knocking twice on the fourth and hearing the rustling within. A slurry of servant girls appeared in their aprons and hair tied back. They sported muted lanterns, prepared to venture into every corner of the castle to destroy and sabotage whatever they could find.

"Ye know what to do," she murmured and they appraised her with wide eyes and disappeared in every direction on quick and silent feet.

One girl slipped her the dagger she gave Maisie and a key and she hurried in the darkness, knowing the layout of the her castle better than any other. Merida braced herself, what she had to do, the weight of it and her weapons making her nearly unsteady. Her footfalls were silent as she moved into another wing, her heart thundering and her blood rushing in her ears so loudly she felt like she was flying and not on solid stone.

With a flick, the door was unlocked and she crept within. Her dagger rested perfect in her palm, but she kept adjusting her fingers because she felt it was slipping from the sweat. She felt it along her lip, her brow, her neck and dripping down her back. Her knees didn't shake and for that she mildly grateful.

'Do it. Do it before ye miss the opportunity. Now!'

Merida moved like lightning, in an instant plunging the blade down on the unsuspecting victim on the bed. Unfortunately, they were more suspecting than she was—Murtagh McKenzie slithered away with a huff and threw a hatchet at her face, making her raise the blade to deflect it with more than a little effort. It was pure instinct that saved it from being buried in her skull.

He faced her from the other side of the bed, dressed in only a pair of loose pants. They heaved in the darkness, eyes and knives glinting in the darkness.

"I should have guessed it," he chuckled at her, dark and cruel. "He ruined ye, the monster. I should have slain ye in his bed, should have let the sorrow spur yer mother forward, madness and all."

"Shut yer gob about my mother," she spat, "And about my husband!"

"He's a monster, girl. And yer a monster's whore."

"And what are ye? Torturin' dragons for the pleasure of it?"

"They are beasts, but ye're no better," he unsheathed a long sword and she followed suit. "C'mon then, ye wee bitch. I'll feed ye to the dragons ye love so much."

Always one to be on the offensive, Merida struck quick and silent, slicing through the darkness, cutting it with her sharp blade. He was a good swordsman, she would admit, but she was goddess-touched, blessed by Freya, lover and slayer combined.

She took a chunk of his shoulder and he sputtered a choked gasp.

"Ye'd do this? To yer own people, yer own Clan?"

"I will bring this to a halt before it can even begin," she muttered, "But ye stand in my way."

"So ye'll kill me? After all I've done?"

"All ye've done is spurned this on. My mother never should have known ye, nor believed yer lies. The madness she feels is partly my fault, but it is partly yers as well. I will bring my husband yer head as recompense for the horrors ye enacted upon his people."

"We will slay them, whether I live or no," he snarled, advancing with wild and desperate swings of his sword that she just had enough room to get away from.

She threw her weight behind the next swing, her blade getting stuck in the post of the bed. Cursing, she abandoned it and jumped back before he could corner her. Her dagger was still at hand and she entrusted the armor Hiccup made to get close, close, close, slitting his wrist and making him drop his own blade.

He punched her across the temple and the world tilted, sending her back on unsteady feet. His blade was somewhere on the ground in the darkness and he tackled her, sending her sprawling.

His hands were slick with sweat, but he dug his thumbs into her trachea and she gasped for air, clawing at his wrists and flailing. When he wouldn't relent, her hands went out as she kicked, his weight pressed down on her body to keep her from catching him with her booted foot. Her vision went hazy around the edges, her throat closing as no air could get into her lungs and her mind flashed in panic at failing.

Her fingers enclosed over her lost dagger, still close by.

It slipped into his eye like a hot knife against freshly churned butter, but scraped across his orbital bone and pushed down.

He screamed in agony, cutting through the night like a rabbit screaming in the silence of the woods, one leg trapped in a hook. Murtagh scrambled back, one hand across the still protruding blade, the other reaching for anything to use as a weapon.

Merida gasped for air and tried to get back to her feet, unsteady. He grabbed her foot and she went sprawling again, his screaming ringing in her ears, but she bucked like a mare and got him in the throat, effectively silencing him as she jerked upward to get hold of her sword still impaled in the post. With her downward weight it sprang free with a loud crack! and she she spun, her knees on either side of his hips as she raised it above her head.

"Ye will suffer," he spat, "Ye horrid changeling bitch!"

"I just may—but ye will die first!"

She plunged the sword into his chest, skittering off his ribs in a sloppy blow. He gasped, twitching, blood pooling between them and she stood despite the gore her white armor now sported, nearly slipping in the puddle already pooling. Merida yanked the dagger from his face and wiped away the remaining goo of his eye on the coverlet of the bed before she did the same with her sword and sheathed it.

She kicked the corpse for a bit of petty revenge before she stumbled forward, catching herself on a chest of drawers with one hand. A scrying mirror of polished silver revealed her pale white face smeared with blood in the poor light shining through the window. She couldn't catch her breath and her cheek ached with each pulse of her thudding heart, making the world tilt at odd angles.

Right as she caught her breath, the alarm sounded.

"Invaders! Northmen!" Sang from outside and above, the scouts having spotted the incoming dragons.

Hiccup had arrived.

"Good fuckin' God," one man murmured. "It's like a plague…"

With the rising sun came the screams of thousands of dragons all appearing with the horizon. They blocked out the sun like a swarm of locusts and some got on their knees and began to pray for their souls as the beasts surrounded the entire castle.

"Someone get the Queen!"

"Prepare the weapons!"

"Nay, await orders!"

The collaboration of Clans quickly devolved into a rabble of fear as more than one threw their blades into the dirt and took off at a sprint as far away as possible, uncaring of their dignity or honor in the face of a sharp and pointy death.

Merida, dressed in scales and blood and shrouded in the death rattle of Murtagh McKenzie, strode through the common area of the castle. She knew she should have left through the servants' quarters, as she commanded the other women at her disposal to do, but she couldn't leave, not yet. Not without trying one last time to stop this before the bloodshed began.

Her mother was in her gleaming armor and stood when she approached.

"Merida…"

"Mum."

"Just what…or, rather, who are ye wearing?" She tipped a dark brow at the blood spattered across the gleaming hide, her mouth almost smiling.

"Murtagh McKenzie," she admitted. "He was easier to kill than I suspected."

Her mother paused. "And why did ye kill him?" Her tone was light.

"Because he swayed ye. Because he whispered darkness in yer ear and ye were weak enough at the time to listen. Now ye are strong, so I will speak and ye shall hear me."

The castle shook with clamor and clatter and people were already pouring in to seek shelter, voices in every direction.

"Stop this," Merida commanded, pitched and panicked, "Stop this now. End it here and be done with it. I will do what I can, win leniency with the Hooligans, and ye shall leave with yer life to find some happiness somewhere else. And, when the day comes, hopefully one of the boys will return to fill the hole left from ye and da."

Her mother cocked her head as if she was only half-listening.

"Ye…want me to stop?"

"I never wanted this," Merida whispered. "I never wanted any of this. I never wanted to marry, or go to war, or be sent away. Nor did I want ye to raise this much death and come seeking for me after it was done. Ye keep trying to help me, mother, but ye keep ruinin' things. Stop, now. Before ye kill us all!"

She should apologize, but the betrayal still lingered, hot and damning in her chest.

"Ye killed Murtagh because ye think he influenced me?"

"He brought ye trappers and boats full of metal and weapons. He promised ye to bring me back to ye and that I would be grateful and appreciate it. He kept makin' promises, but he was a worm!" She shrieked, shaking. "My husband has come and he will kill—!"

"Ye have no husband!" She screamed back and Merida felt young and small again before she found her footing.

"I do! And he is here with thousands of Vikings on the backs of thousands of dragons!" She panted, her hand falling on her blade. She would not raise it, not if she could help it. But the look in her mother's eyes, so deranged and wild, made her fear just a little.

"I am Merida Haddock of the Hooligan tribe, of DunBroch, of us all. We were given up to stand as more than our singular homes, somethin' that was hard to do, aye, but it meant that we could move forward as somethin' else.

"Mum…I'm beggin' ye…stop. Stop this. Stop now, before it is too late."

Elinor let out a terrible sigh. She stood to her full height and approached on even steps, making Merida back away a little. She embraced her, enveloping her in her arms and squeezing.

"Mum…?"

"And to think, after all this time…I had hoped ye'd return to me as ye were. But ye're not the same anymore, are ye?"

"Mum—!"

She pulled away a little, crying now. "Ye're not my Merida. Ye're not my child. Ye're an imposter."

"Mum, wait, no—!"

Merida expected to be shook, slapped, maybe even punched. She expected to be screamed at, but this soft murmuring was somehow worse.

The fact she swung her sword against her was definitely worse.

If her hand hadn't already been braced abasing the hilt of her own blade, she would be missing a hunk of her collar bone and bleeding out on the floor of the hall. Despite the block, it was sloppy and poorly timed, and her mother was using all of her weight behind her. Merida jerked her arm up to shift herself forward, the two metal ends screeching as they slid and she rolled away from the downward swing.

"Mum!" Elinor turned and advanced, swiping and swinging madly, making Merida jump and maintain the defensive. "Stop! What are ye doin'?!"

Locked again in a stalemate of will and steel, Elinor's glower chilled Merida to the bone.

"I'm yer child!" Merida all but screamed, a better swordsman even fighting with such reticence. They clashed, the sound ringing in her ears, making her nearly want to sob, give in to the shaking in her knees, buckle and crumble and fall. But she would never dare.

An explosion sounded outside, in the back, near the dragon-pit and the call of a Monstrous Nightmare distracted Elinor long enough for Merida to swoop in close and shove her armor plated shoulder into her sternum. Gasping, her grip was weakened and Merida slammed the pommel of her sword into her mother's wrist, making her drop the blade to the ground with a clatter.

With a twirl, Merida held her husband's blade to her mother's throat. Her hand did not shake, even though the rest of her did.

Her mother, her wonderful mother, proud and eternal even in the fur of a bear, stared at her like she was nothing. Her grip faltered and she huffed out a plaintive sob.

"Mum, please…"

"Ye're not my child. My daughter would never turn her back on her people, on us. Ye're a disgrace to yer bloodline, yer clan, and me."

"Mum—!" Her sword fell, wounded in a way that required no weapon and never summoned blood or bruises but would surely leave a scar.

"And to think, I thought ye would have been strong enough to evade such foolishness. I believed in ye, so much, my dauntless girl." She advanced in cool and even steps that had Merida on the retreat again, despite the fact that her mother lost her weapon and she had not. "But yet, here we are. Ye have fallen, child. To a demon of the Viking brood, nothing but a mindless whore under their control."

"Mother!" She did sob then, unable to stop her tears.

"Ye called me a beast once," she whispered, eyes as sharp as a dagger. "And ye turned that sword against us, cut our connection right down the center—!"

"I fixed it!" Merida was breathless, "I did, I did, I fixed it—!"

"How I wish ye had left me to rot in the corpse of that bear," she continued and Merida tripped, falling back and scrambling to get her feet back under her. "It would have been more merciful than this betrayal."

"Mum, stop!"

"Ye are an embarrassment."

"Mum—!"

"Ye humiliate me. God, how I could have bore ye, I do'nae even know."

"Stop—!"

She poised above her, glaring down at her.

"I have tried since yer birth to guide ye, steer ye, make ye better than the rest. Ye fought me tooth and nail, child, always did, ever since I surrendered ye into this world. Never once could ye do what I asked! Not once! And now ye've done it again! All ye do is ruin things, all ye've ever done—!"

"Enough!" She screamed, right as the walls creaked and dust and debris began to rain down around them. She got to her feet, sword outstretched, "Hiccup has come! He has come for me! Call off yer forces or die with them!"

Elinor sneered. "Nay. I will never back down."

"Mum," she whispered, "Ye did this for me, to bring me back to ye, to have me return home. Now I'm askin' ye, please, stop. I can put things right, I can bring DunBroch back up again, I can—!"

"All ye've ever done or will do is bring us down."

"I was the one that stood against them in the wars before," Merida screamed, feeling that familiar spark of fury replace the growing knot of fear. She let it rise, consume her, twist and seethe and rage in her and blind her to everything else. "Ye were the one that hunkered down and cried in the barracks and patched soldiers with shaking hands! I was the one that swung! I am always the one that must decide!

"So I've decided," she snarled, "And I choose to embrace all that I am. I am Merida—of Clan DunBroch, of Alban Kings, Wife of Hiccup of the Haddock line and Hooligan tribe and one-day Chieftess and Queen of the Viking Confederation, Goddess-blessed, Valkyrie, rider of the Lightfury, Changeling, Shield-Maiden, Princess, Bravest among us!" Her voice rose higher with each epithet, each name like another crown across her brow, success around her neck that spurred her onward. "I am everythin' I was ever meant to be—now back down, mother, or face me fully."

Another blast from above sent the rafters to shaking and the pair was sent sprawling, twisting out of the way when three massive pieces of mortar broke free to crash against the main hall. Several tables were shattered to splinters, the floor torn up, and the the thrones turned to nothing but pieces. Merida gaped at them, before searching the wreckage for her mother, calling out and trying to keep the dust from her eyes.

She was thrown to the side, her mother gripping her by the jaw and slamming the back of her head into the stone floor. The second blow across her head that day, Merida was dazed and gasping but was faster this time in reacting, finding the dagger at her hip and arcing up without thinking and pure reactionary. The slice across her cheek only added to the eerie visage but did not seem to stop her mother for reaching for her throat. Her eyes were dark and dead as the bear's from so many moons ago.

'She'll kill me!' A similar thought, like when she faced Ruffnut by the well in Berk, rose up and nearly froze her. She had no doubt that the threat was as real now as it was then.

Tussling, Merida punched her mother across the cheek before getting her in the throat and making her choke. With the extra weight of her chainmail and metal armor, it took more than a little effort to get her off her and loomed above her, holding the dagger.

"Go on," she gasped, "Do it. Cut my heart out. Not like ye already have'nae—this will be far less painful."

More tears sprung to her eyes, "Never. Never, I refuse."

Because this wasn't war, not really.

And in the end, she always had a choice.

Sheathing her sword, Merida sprinted with everything in her to the doors she had been entering and exiting her entire life. An age passed behind her eyelids, all the times she spent in this castle, coming and going, fighting and learning, advancing and returning always to the place of her ancestors. She recalled every beautiful moment, every painful one, every second of her lifetime there as she stepped into the horror of the fray, the clamor making her stagger and people pushing past her to clamber into the castle in desperate hopes for protection.

She knew deep down, if it fell she would build it back up again, better and stronger.

Screams and shouts echoed in every direction. Men in colored tartans assembled weapons of dragon make, some of which would work but many of which had been sabotaged but would surely end up with plenty of casualties on both sides. They brandished swords and shields, axes and bows, Vikings dropping behind the all but useless defenses of their walls to bring the attacks to them in a clash of blood and armor and screams. Above teemed a swarming hive of dragons in every shape or size, cawing and screeching as they rained down hellfire on the castle and deposited hordes of Vikings below.

They used to scare her, but now she only felt relief.

A slew of spines pierced the ground a few feet to her left and she knew she should stop, try to find someone to take her to Hiccup, reach for him so they could take out the biggest weapons and stop this before it got well and truly ugly and the castle was completely destroyed. But another screech of pain and fury brought her attention to the pit behind the castle and she knew where she was needed, despite keeping her eye to the sky in case she spotted the glinting dark hide of her beloved and his dragon.

They had exhausted most of their supply of dragons, having killed off both Zipplebacks and the Monstrous Nightmare. The Gronkles, still to weak to stand, were limp in their cages and the two Nadders stomped their feet and screeched at whoever got too close. Men moved around the cages, picking up barrels and weapons, bombs, shouting over the rising din of battle. She passed them all, barely even registering their presence until she neared the Gronkle Iron cages and began to jam her dagger into the lock, despite the hissing and hollers as to just what she was doing.

Someone grabbed her shoulder and she swung without thinking, slitting the throat of some McKenzie, watching him drop to his knees. More shouts in her direction made her clumsy as she tried to free the Nadders, knowing she was making herself a massive target with her back to her enemies. Hissing under her breath in tandem with the dragons, she shrieked when she was lifted bodily around the waist to be hauled away. She locked her foot around her attackers leg and threw herself forward to free herself, rolling to jump up and finding his body studded with three spines like a pincushion. She glanced at the green and blue dragon, shaking and grateful, able to get the door open and then moving on to the next.

Immediately, Merida began to fret over the broken Gronkles who could not move from their positions. The Nadders, too, couldn't fly away and were left grounded with their shredded wing membranes hanging limp and bloody from their coverts. Merida had to get them into the woods behind them, up and away, or else she doomed them to die.

"C'mon!" She got the Gronkles up with her arms under their bellies, ushering and herding them away while the Nadders took out anyone that got too close. The path was made easier with another busted wall that allowed them all to disappear into the wilderness, Merida leading them up into the woods with her pounding heart in her throat.

"Stay here, aye? I'll come back, I'll come back, I swear, with all the help I can offer ye, but stay here!" She turned back and ran, mostly downhill, back into the madness of DunBroch.

'C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!' She pushed herself, dancing through soldiers, not really sure where she was headed but knowing she had to keep moving towards the front entrance. Her heart pounded in sync with her feet on the ground, her breath caught with every parry of a stray sword, every time she ducked under an axe blade.

The sound of falling stars, catapult fire, death from above made her pause. She looked up, unable to help herself, to see the inky dark streak of Toothless as he raced across the cloud of dragons that parted the way for him, the messiah of reptiles, leader and alpha. A ship at the port of the lock was obliterated, the shockwave shooting across the battlefield and making some fall to their knees as the whole world seemed to shake. Merida stumbled, not paying attention, jamming her shoulder into another soldier and getting an arrow right into the meat of her thigh.

Sputtering a gasp, the world tilted a little with the pain and she nearly crumpled to the ground. Still, the irony wasn't lost on her even in the moment that she, the greatest archer most likely in all of the Archipelago and Alba, was struck by a stray projectile. The armor took the brunt of it, but it was still lodged deep and she couldn't yank it free in the heat of the battle and it would have to be cut free later. She impaled another soldier with her sword, who and from where she wasn't even sure, stealing the abandoned shield and limping forward with savagery and fury in her blood.

She dodged a swing of a mace, her shield raised and her weak leg buckling. More dragon fire seemed to seethe all around them, the heat and smell surely from a Monstrous Nightmare, making her pant. She swung, wildly, without thought and getting the chunk out of the arm of a wild soldier with red hair and facial scarring.

His green eyes blinked at her before he grinned wildly and laughed, "Sister!"

For the briefest of moments, Merida feared that somehow she had slipped through time and it was Hamish or Hubert looking at her with such a wild expression. Then, it all caught up to her and she realized he was speaking Norse, his eyes were not the same pale loch blue as her brothers', and he was surely not a relative.

"Who are you?" She gritted, "Do you know my Hiccup?"

"Know him? You mean he hasn't told you about me?" He seemed to slump with a sigh, "Typical Hiccup! Ah, well, we'll have plenty of time to catch up later!" The man cackled again, making Merida wince, dodging another flying axe and nearly losing a chunk of cheek for the brief conversation.

"Hey!" He turned to where the blade had flown from, "I'm trying to have a conversation with my sister!" He flung a dagger out from some compartment and it struck a man between the eyes, toppling them over into a heap of useless limbs. "Where were we?"

"Hiccup!" She screamed, "My husband!"

"Oh, yeah, right!" He laughed, "Come meet my Sleuther! Oh, buddy!"

She turned to see a dragon with a tail that divided up into three pointed ends, striking out wildly in every direction. Then, with a screech, it twisted into a braid before stabbing three clansmen in the chest and killing them instantly, their breath frozen in their lungs, bodies swelling grotesquely with some kind of venom that turned their bodies black and grey and gelatinous.

"Buddy, we've got lovers to reunite!" He cackled again and Merida prayed she wasn't being played. She let the beast smell her, under the blood and the dragon hide, and he accepted her presence. She leapt onto his back and waited for the fellow redhead to join her but he merely grinned wildly.

"Send him back once you've found Hiccup! Oh, and tell him you must hear all about Dagur the Deranged!"

She found it in herself to laugh, a high pitched and slightly maniacal giggle that made him nearly hop like a child by her side.

"Fitting," she commented, "I am Merida Haddock."

"I know," he laughed, "It is good to meet you, wife of my dear brother."

"Sorry about your arm," she gestured to his bloody wound and he merely shrugged like he barely felt it.

"Just get back to Hiccup so he doesn't lose his damn mind! There's only enough room for one crazy man in this family!"

She squeezed her knees and the triple-tailed beast leapt into the air, "Done!" She swore as she arced into the sky with a cry of promise and immediately began seeking for that same dark shadow. Her thigh burned keeping her in the saddle of the unfamiliar dragon, but it was better than plummeting to her death and she apologized lowly to the beast for mishandling him.

"Just do what you do best," she begged Sleuther, "Find the alpha! Take me to the Nightfury!"

He pinned her with his bright red eyes, the red of her hair, the red of his rider, and seemed to understand as he surged up into the writing mess of and pile of dragons and riders that passed and flew along each other. She draped over his neck, wings buffeting her from all angles and no way for her to keep up visually as to what was happening, a scream caught in her raw throat as they raced through the swarming hive of scales and hide and teeth and fire.

Then he pierced through and into the heart of a cloud, making Merida gasp, seeing just as little light and blinking the wetness from her eyes. Higher and higher they climbed, bursting through to rest in that sacred space between sky and the unknown below. Merida panted, having not been up so high in a while, her eyes searching wildly for Solasta or Toothless.

This was the smartest idea, she had to admit, as Sleuther moved easily around the gray vapor, knowing that the best place for a Fury to hide was in the highest clouds before diving low and destroying whatever pathetic thing it set its sight on. Eventually Hiccup would have to come this high up to better gain advantage of the chaos below, and then she would reunite with him.

Her heartbeat seemed to finally slow with the thought, the horror below, the pain halfway behind her. Merida knew that she would struggle for a long while after this, they would have no choice to but to find their footing again, reestablish their relationship and those she had fostered on Berk. Her position with Valka was precarious, anger still burning in her chest for her manipulation and plotting. She had lied to Hiccup, directly to his face, knowing that she would be taken and they would stop him from getting her and she never shared that with him. Gods only knew how he'd react to such heartbreaking betrayal. Her father had broken down before her, admitted his wrongs, her siblings had been forced to commit unspeakable acts against dragons and would now have to be brought into their already cramped home. She had killed at least ten more men and had gone against her own blood, her mother having slandered her with more hate than she believed her capable. And she couldn't even process the slanderous shouts of her mother that cut her deeper than any blade she knew, right to the bone and she had no doubt she'd never spend a day where she didn't remember the fury and hatred in her eyes.

She was not the same woman he married, nor the same woman he was with in Arendelle. She would not be the same woman at the end of the day.

Perhaps, her stomach sank and knotted, she was not the woman he even wanted anymore.

Her throat constricted when the clouds moved, parting and sweeping as something spun below in dangerous swoops. Sleuther advanced with a series of dragon calls, summoning and demanding in their pitch and tone. She knew what he was calling for, what he was seeking, what rest beneath that sea of cloud that hovered like some untouchable, unknowable realm.

And with a shot, he was there. Spinning up towards the sky, Toothless' wings snapped open to block out the sun and he was nothing more than a silhouette, a silent promise, a haunting reminder of death.

The world stopped it's constant revolution, her heart stopped beating, her blood stopped coursing through her veins. All her hurts, her aching heart and body, ceased to exist for the briefest second.

Then she was screaming his name with all the air in her lungs.

"Hiccup!"

She waved like a madwoman and bounced a little in the saddle too wide for her hips, despite knowing he had to see the black and yellow hide of the Triple Stryke she was on. He and his dragon dove at a speed her human eyes couldn't keep track of, suddenly there in front of her.

He was bleeding from a deep cut in his hairline, his helm lost somewhere below when he ditched it in order to seek out her bright head better among the din. His mouth moved, but nothing came out, just a gasping wheeze of relief to see her there, alive, and waiting for him.

"Thank you, Odin, blessed gods," he whispered, choking on emotion and fear and sorrow. "Thank you, Thor, Heimdall, Baldr, Frey, Loki…anyone, everyone, thank you, thank you, thank you…"

"Hiccup!" She cried again, too happy to sob but feeling like she might just start. He steered Toothless to the side, hands outstretched desperately, reaching, reaching, reaching—

Locked.

Fingers interlaced, her pulse under his gloved hands, sticky with blood that he prayed was another's. She gripped him tightly, almost laughing, leaning a little too far out of the saddle for his liking.

"Merida," he whispered, "Are you okay?"

"I…No, not really," she admitted, breathless. "You?"

"No," he agreed, "I am better now, though."

She huffed out a wet laugh, nodding shakily. "Please, did ye get the boys? My brothers, did you find them?!"

"Safe and sound with Gobber," he swore, "He's going to hate me forever, but I made him stay back with Grump and your triplets."

"Thank God," She trembled, "I'm sorry, Hiccup. This is all my fault!"

"Shh," he swore, "Don't do that to yourself, Merida. You didn't make these decisions."

"I should have been kinder, I should have shown grace instead of spite all those months ago when we wed. I should have tried harder to stop this, I should have ruined more in preparation, I tried, I tried—!"

"Breathe," he commanded, his fingers squeezing hers. "You did so much, Merida. So much. I'm the one that's sorry. I should have protected you better, from your people, from my mother's influence. I should have done more to keep you close, should have fought harder to come and get you before you were forced to do gods-know-what to help us."

"Ye…Valka told you?"

He shook his head, "I know it wasn't your fault."

She would not break down, she would not, not here, not now when the warrior, the Shield-Maiden, was still needed. All she wanted to do was fall into his arms and cry until she was nothing but empty, but they didn't have time for that.

"Come," he commanded, gesturing to his front, "Toothless will summon Solasta, then I want you with Gobber."

"Like Hel!" She snapped, temper flaring. "Those are my people down there. Both of them! We must put a stop to this, and it will take us both to do it!"

Another explosion lit off below, followed by screams that pierced the skies. The clouds lit up in yellows and oranges, fire beneath them like they were riding over Hell itself.

In a way, Merida believed they were.

"I can't have you out there," he gasped, "Merida, my beloved, please. Please, do this for me. Go back, go hide, stay away from this."

His eyes begged her more than his mouth could.

Let me save you, just this once, he plead. Let me keep you from more horror.

"I can stay on my dragon, I won't touch down, but I can'nae just abandon everyone!" She was slipping between languages in her panic. "I am not a coward, Hiccup!"

"Fuck, Merida, don't you think I know that?!" He screamed, "I know! But you are my wife, damn you, mine! You are my one thing, in this whole world, that I want to keep, and you are just—!"

He stifled a sob, "Please. Please. Have faith in me, to make this right, to stop this. Please, my beloved, don't go back down there."

She gasped, quaking to her core. "I have to, I have to, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, my man, my husband, I must. I must, please…understand. Have faith in me! Have faith in our dragons and our people! Have faith in our fate!"

He raised his eyes to the sky, a shuddering breath making his breastplate tremble.

"Hiccup. Hiccup, please…fated to be, fated to meet, fated to wed."

"Don't," he begged, breaking under her force, "Don't do this to me. Please, my wife, the light of my life, don't do this to me, to us."

"I have no choice!" She cried, "It's you and me always, husband! We are a team together, the two us, two lands and two peoples united in our marriage, our sacrifice! I must go so that I can stand by you proudly! Have faith!" She was cracking too, right down the center. "Have faith in this, in us, in the gods and our woven lines."

He cried out a frustrated scream into the sky, furious and damned. "You swore! You swore to me!"

She knew what he meant, "And I will not break that promise! I will not leave you in this life, or the next! Hiccup!"

"Tell me one thing," he begged, "Before…before you do this."

"Anything, I'll give you anything."

"Have you bled?"

"I…Wait, what now?"

"Have you bled this month? Have you…are you pregnant, Merida?!"

"What?" She could almost laugh at his absurdity. "With all this going on? No!"

He was equally relieved and saddened. She didn't know how to respond to his obvious hurt and merely ignored it while she could. "I wasn't sure. You were…you were so tired in Arendelle…"

"It was a hard thing to go through, I can assure you I'm tired now—!"

The Lightfury appeared, shooting up and throwing her paws into the face of Sleuther to get her face against Merida's and forcing her to release Hiccup's hand. The borrowed dragon grumped and grumbled, but allowed it as Merida embraced her more fully and let out a relieved laugh of joy.

"Thank ye for takin' the boys," she murmured, "I'm glad to have ye back, lass."

The dragon cooed and clicked, her forked tongue licking gently at her cheek. I am happy to have you back as well, she seemed to say.

"Sleuther," she asked, nudging Solasta to hover on the other side, "If you could, please, my new friend."

The braided tail wrapped gently around her waist and lifted her bodily from the ill-fitting saddle and tucking her into the rightful spot on her dragon. The other beast nodded to the alphas, disappearing into the gloom and down below to help Dagur once again in battle.

"You're hurt," Hiccup gasped at the arrow in her thigh.

Merida nodded, only half-hearing him. Being back never felt so right, so powerful, so eternal. She strapped herself in, minding the arrow, using her blade to cut it down to halfway and hissing as it dug further into the meat of her leg.

She felt like a queen above the skies.

Queen of the Clouds.

She always had liked the sound of it.

"Husband," she reached her hand, this time she was the one seeking, wanting, "You are with me, always. Yes?"

"Fuck you," he snarled, hissing, "Merida—!"

"You are either with me or against me!" She shook her fingers at him. "Choose! Decide!"

A sword has two sides and must fall one way or another.

He grabbed her hand with another curse. "I love you. How do I love you?" He muttered.

"Because I love you like a dragon," she taunted him and he rolled his eyes. "Come! Let us end this—once and for all!"

"Together," he brushed his lips against her knuckles, uncaring of the blood. "Do not land. Go for the big targets. Disappear as much as you can."

"Same to you," she demanded, "Be safe for me. Come home to me. Do not leave me in this realm all alone."

"Not until we're old and wrinkled," he swore. "Let's put a stop to this, one last time. For good. Then we will have our peace!"

Grinning, feeling strong and sturdy and solid again, she took her hand back.

"I love you," she told him.

"I love you, too," he sighed. "Even if you are going to make me go gray by twenty-five."

Only Hiccup would take such a moment to express his displeasure so caustically. Finding it in herself to laugh, she tipped her head back to the skies and let herself take in the moment of pleasure and knowing the horror below was waiting.

They did not fall—they swung.

Together.