Summary: The world is inhabited by hundreds of fearsome beasts, but none more so than the dragons. In mountain caves, swamps, and forests they dwell protecting incredible hoards of treasure. From glittering mounds of gold and silver to powerful relics of the gods when they walked the earth alongside man.

When a dragon makes their nest in the Gaelic Isles, a king must make a difficult choice to keep his people and his family safe.

I

The lair of the wyrm smelled of a crisp reagent that made his eyes water slightly. It was most certainly within, if not deucedly close. He looked back at his companions, all of them nodding as they moved deeper into the frozen cavern.

Testing the ground with his boot, he found it slick. "Watch your footing." He whispered behind him as he laid a hand against the wall. "Dagur, douse that torch."

There was a faint hissing sound as his friend dunked the torch into a mound of snow. "Won't we need the light?" The man asked.

He shook his head, "I don't want it to smell the smoke," he explained with a look ahead of them, "Besides, this lair's made from clear ice. There's plenty of light." His words rang true as they made their way deep into the cavern. The walls and ceiling were made of nothing but ice.

"The wyrm must have made this lair itself." Said the women directly behind him, "I've mapped this entire territory, and never come across a cave like this before."

Dagur looked at her, "How long ago was that?"

"Three years ago," she said, "So this beast must have only just moved itself in."

A second woman in front of Dagur gave her a nod, "Which means it might be young, small, and stupid."

Dagur snorted, "You mean like Snotlout?"

"I'd actually prefer the dragon," the woman chuckled before hushing herself, "Now stop fooling around before it hears us."

They continued through the cavern, each of them moving slowly as to not make a sound further as they neared the center of the lair. The walls and ceiling seemed to be supported by large pillars of unnaturally formed ice. The sharp spikes coming from one such pillar made him pause a moment, "Frost breath." He noted, "It's a white dragon for certain."

"Doesn't make it much better, Hiccup." Said the girl behind him, "They're the most savage out of all the breeds we've seen."

Hiccup nodded, "We've faced them before." He told her, "Besides, this one has something special in its hoard; don't forget that, Heather."

She nodded, "I won't, don't worry about that."

Hiccup smiled slightly as they moved on until the cavern opened up. The smell of the lair had almost become unbearable. His eyes clouded with unwanted tears as the smell reached them. "Ugh, I'll never get used to that smell." The second woman sneered with her cloak around her nose.

Hiccup ignored the complaint and looked around for their quarry. "Keep on your toes, Astrid, you're the key to all of this, remember?"

She nodded as she hefted the axe she held, "I remember."

He stepped further into the lair and something skittered beneath his foot. He froze and looked down; beneath his foot was...gold.

Kneeling to the ground, he picked the coin up, "Heather, you know this coin?" He handed it to her.

She turned it over in her hands, "Ja, this is a crown. Over a hundred years old from the wear."

"There's more," Dagur said as he peered around them, "This dragon's been at this for a while."

Hiccup nodded as Heather gave the coin back, "Watch your steps." He said as the moved into the open area, "Dagur, you know the drill, find a spot you can attack from as soon as I make my first shot." He ordered as the berserker moved around them, "Wait for my signal." He reminded him as he moved to find a hiding spot. "Astrid, you stay here at the openingjust in case it tries to escape. When you see your chance to finish it, move in."

Before he could give his orders to Heather, the girl just smirked at him and moved off to his right, "I already know where I need to be." She called over her shoulder as she moved off.

Hiccup unslung his bow[1], and moved deeper into the lair in search of the dragon, an arrow knocked on the string. He did not get far.

True to their nature, the dragon attacked first. Hiccup barely had time to draw his bow back as the large creature came at him from the shadows of the cavern, roaring angrily. It's jaws snaped at him. With a yelp, the young man jumped out of the way to avoid being bitten in half, drawing his bow back as he landed. The arrow loosed and struck the dragon just under the wing where the skin was tender and thin.

It snarled and glared at him with hatred burning in its eyes, frosty mist falling from its jaws. He ducked behind an ice pillar just as it breathed out a cone of ice. "Now!" Hiccup shouted.

Dagur lept out of his hiding spot, his greatsword[2] held above his head, and swung the blade against its flank. The dragon swung its head around with a blast of icy breath as Dagur raised a shield[3].

Another arrow bounced off the skin of the dragon's neck as it was distracted by Dagur's assault. Instead of snapping jaws, the dragon whipped its tail around and nearly took Hiccup's head off as he ducked low to avoid it. He took a spear from his back and rushed forward. The dragon snarled and snapped down on the tip of the spear, and snapped it off. Hiccup then drew a razor-edged seax[4].

Heather lept down from above, and landed on the dragon's back, driving her own spear down into the space between the wings. Letting out a sharp shriek of pain, the dragon rose into the air. Hiccup cursed and drew his bow once more, "Heather, jump down!"

"I can't! I'm too high up!" She shouted down as the dragon buck and rolled to dislodge her.

Dagur got beneath them, his arms opened wide, "Jump down! I'll catch you!" He shouted up.

Before she do anything the dragon slammed into the ice wall of the cavern, shattering the ice and smashing Heather against it. Dagur howled in rage as his sibling slipped from the dragon's back and fell. He slid on his knees to catch her in time.

"Get her out of here!" Hiccup ordered which Dagur obeyed immediately by rushing passed Astrid. "Astrid, you're up!"

Astrid rushed in, her axe in hand, while Hiccup was loosing rapid shots from his bow at the dragon's wings. The dragon ignored his arrows and reached back to rip the spear from its back, "I need it closer!" Astrid hissed at him as he continued to empty his quiver.

"I'm working on it!" Hiccup snaped. He took careful aim with his next shot, and fired. The arrow flew and struck the dragon in the joined of the wing where the foreclaw was, the dragon roaring with more anger than pain as it tumbled. But it did not hit the ground. It dug its barbed claws into the icy walls of its lair, clinging to it like a spider.

It hissed at them, "I will kill you for this!"

"Not today!" Hiccup shouted back as he loosed another arrow into the ice wall supporting the dragon. The force of the blow was enough to shatter the already weakened wall and send the dragon tumbling toward the icy floors. Its claws scrabbled against the supporting pillars for purchase. "Astrid, move in!"

The moment the dragon crashed into the floor Astrid was there with her axe raised to strike, but was forced to dodge another icy breath from the dragon. Hiccup grabbed up Heather's spear, rushed in and thrust the tip right into its flank. It turned and snapped at him, giving Astrid the distraction she needed. Her axe came down on the dragon's neck, biting deep into the bone.

With a final groan and hiss, the dragon lay still.

Hiccup, an arrow on his bow string, waited for a moment before letting his guard down, and turned toward the entrance, "Dagur, is your sister alright?!"

"Cracked ribs, and bruised pride," Heather groaned out for herself, "Nothing more."

The young man smiled as Dagur came back into the cavern with a huge grin on his face, "Nothing like the last one we faced," Dagur said, "We should've brought a few more drengir{1} to help."

Hiccup shook his head, "As big as this cavern is, anymore people would've made it too crowded to fight effectively." He frowned as he saw Astrid wetting her axe with the dragon's blood as it poured out of the wound. "You know that old legend is false, don't you?" He asked of the shieldmaiden.

The girl shrugged, "This one's older, so maybe his blood has more power."

"It...does...not..." hissed the weakened voice of the dragon, startling the girl away from it. It opened one large blue eye and focused on the boy, "You...you fought well for one so small, little mouse."

Hiccup looked at the dragon, "You fought well, too, Dragon," he said with a slight bow of his head at the beast, "You honored us."

"As you...have honored...me..." the dragon's voice grew weaker, "My sight leaves me...I know what you seek...but it is not within my hoard..."

Dagur knelt beside the dragon's head, "And we should believe that?"

The dragon made a gurgling noise in its throat that made more blood bubble out of the wound on its neck. "What boon does lying grant me, little mouse?" The dragon asked, seeming to gain a small amount of strength back, "I am dying. I will not dishonor my death with lies."

Hiccup knelt next to it, "Do you know where it is?" He asked, "Have you seen it?"

The dragon gurgled more, "Aye...I once held it within my claws and felt its might." It said, "But what was once mine was stolen from me by one greater..." The dragon's voice was no more than a whisper now.

"Another dragon?" Dagur asked.

The dragon nodded, "Aye...an ire more fierce that hell's fire..." its toothy lips turned up in a sort of smile, "I...do...have something..." its eyes dimmed as it looked at Hiccup, "A...long...long forgotten relic...Fafnir's Fang lays within my hoard..."

Dagur and Hiccup grinned at each other while Astrid readied her axe, "I'll ease your passing now."

Hiccup held up his hand to stop her, "You mentioned another dragon took what we were looking for from you," he said, "Where is he?"

The dragon rolled its eye at him, "If you go there...you will burn...," it rasped, "...he...dwells in the land the Saxons have settled," it closed its eyes, "Goodbye...brave...little...mouse..."

Hiccup gave his nod and Astrid's axe came down on the dragon's neck.

Fafnir's Fang had long been a figure of legend in the Vikingr tribes for as long as the dragons had been awake. It was rumored to be hewn from the fangs of the great dragon itself.

When the four young vikings entered the dragon's treasure chamber, they were not disappointed. The breed that was the white dragons were of the smallest of all the dragons, but they were still dragons nonetheless. Which meant that they hoarded gold, silver and jewels with a passion greater than any love that existed.

"Odin favors us today," Dagur smiled as he scooped a handful of coins into a sailcloth sack. "This will be enough to buy enough food and supplies for the village for the rest of winter."

Hiccup nodded, "I hope it does," he said with a long face as he filled his own bag, "Dad's raiding party should be home any day now."

Heather was digging through a pile in search of their realy prize, "Each time he's led a party, he's come back with less and less." She said to her brother, "Every other tribe's been wiped out, or moved on to greener pastures."

Astrid nodded, "Just be glad that all we have to deal with is white dragons." She said with a slight shiver, "I don't even want to think of what a black dragon would do to our village...Odin forbid a red dragon."

Hiccup chuckled at the blonde girl, "It's too cold for them here, Astrid." He said with another handful of coins in his bag, "But you're right," he sighed, "If things don't improve, then we may have to pack up and move again."

Dagur frowned, "That would mean the end of us, Hiccup."

"So would staying," the auburn haired leader said, "If I'm bound to Valhalla, I doubt dying from hunger or cold will get me in." He chuckled at the look from Dagur before he pushed his hand into the mound for another handful, "Ouch!" He pulled his hand back, his fingers dripping with blood. Curious, he pushed the coins and jewels away, and found the tip of a spear[5] still slick with his blood.

Smiling, the young man brushed the rest of the gold away and grasped the shaft of the spear beneath the head, pulling it free. "I've found it!" He held the spear up, smiling blindingly just as the spear's bladed edges gleamed in the light of the ice cavern.

"Lemme see! Lemme see!" Dagur shouted eagerly as Hiccup held it up. "Wow, this is something!" The berserker said as he admired the weapon, "It's not a dragon's fang like the legends say, but it is finely crafted."

Hiccup nodded in agreement, "It is," he smiled as the girls joined them, "It's beyond anything I could ever craft myself."

"The shaft is dragon bone," Heather said as she examined the spear herself, "At least that's something. And it's still sharp." She said as Astrid bandaged Hiccup's injured hand. "Stoick will be happy to have this."

Hiccup looked at her, "Astrid struck the killing blow, Heather," he reminded her, "By right, the spear belongs to her."

Astrid shook her head, "I'll only take my share of the hoard, nothing more." She said firmly, "Besides, you need something to present to your father after this aside from the gold. We did come here on rumors of a relic from the gods, after all."

Hiccup sighed as he gave the girl a withering look, "Your family could use the honor of holding this spear, Astrid," he said with the girl frowning at him, "I'm sorry, but with the situation with your uncle..."

Astrid punched his arm, "My uncle's shame is his own, and he's been cast out of the family," she told him firmly, "My family's honor is whole, whether we hold this spear or not."

"Better face it, Brother, the spear is yours." Dagur grinned and slapped him on the back, "And I say it's about time you had something other than that seax, or your bow."

Hiccup sighed and placed the spear in the sheath at his back, "As you say, Brother."

To hear the tale of the vikings that called the icy village of Fornburg home was to hear a tale of tragedy. It had been five hundred years since the dragons had awoken from their slumber and spread across the world like a plague.

With them had come all manner of unnatural things; wraiths, draugr{2}, and trolls to name only a few. Hiccup's tribe, formerly known as the Hairy Hooligans, had been one of the smaller villages among the tribes, but they were just as, if not more fierce than any of the larger tribes. Yet there's was a merciful and loving tribe to their own.

Tradition dictated that should a child be born to a family, hale and healthy, it would grow and serve the tribe as a fierce warrior. If the child were born small and sickly, it would be cast into the sea, given unto the gods as a sacrifice.

The Hooligans were different.

They loved their children, large or small, and raised them to be fine people. It was this love that made them fierce and loyal, which gained them glory and honor above all other tribes. For over a hundred years their people prospered...until the day of the dragons' awakening.

The tribe did not originate in Fornburg, instead inhabiting smaller islands further North. The Hooligan tribe held dominion over a small speck of an island the called Berk. An isle of cliffs and hills, very ill-suited for farming, or people for that matter as nothing but the sturdiest of crops would grow, and those were as tasteless as some of the people that lived their. Boars also called the island home, and often ravaged the fields, though the provided plentiful and welcomed meat.

As all vikings tended to do, they sailed off on raiding voyages, plundering gold, materials, and food from other lands to build up their own. And so the people of Berk prospered.

But the days of joy and bounty were not to last.

On Berk lay a single high peak of granite, or so the people seemed to think. One day, admist a great quake, the mountain peak split open like an egg birthing a new chick. Only the chick was no chick. On great, leathen wings as red as blood, rose the first of many. Called Thraxata, the flame fiend, the monstrous dragon laid low the village of Berk, devouring her livestock and people, burning their paltry fields and crops.

Families were torn apart. Homes turned to ash.

The dragon's rampage had not ended there. It had flown to the neighboring villages, killing, feeding, leaving nothing but ashes in its wake. The people tried to fight back against the beast, but its scale seemed impervious to their swords and spears.

One man, however, managed to fell the beast before succumbing to his own wounds. The dragon was killed, and the people left to rebuild. However, the dragon was only the beginning. Those that had been slaughtered by the great beast rose again from the dead as wraiths and draugr. Beasts became larger and more fearsome. Children were stolen from their beds and never seen again.

And so the remaining Jarls of the viking tribes called an Althing{3}, making the decision to move the remaining people to somewhere safer for all of them as one, unified tribe. But their travels were not to be easy.

Of all the tribes that remained, the Hooligans, Bog-Burglars, and Meatheads were the only ones that were as one. Those that called themselves as the Lavalout tribe, a tribe that claimed to be descended from Sutr himself, wanted nothing to do with their unity, and attacked the remaining tribes to show their strength and courage. The combined might of the three tribes was enough to end them.

For years they traveled, stopping here and their to give time enough for their children to grow, build new dragon-boats, sailing cloth, and find food. Finally, having traveled so far north that they had begun to fear sailing off the edge of the world, the reached the frozen land of Rygjafylke and founded the village they now dwelled in, christening it as Fornburg.

Tundra grass and evergreen trees were the only plants that would grow there apart from bitter berries that were nearly inedible. So they returned to their raiding ways, plundering and pillaging for what they could...until they learned that dragons, when left for great periods of time, accumilated great wealth.

White dragons infested the colder regions of the world, but they hoarded gold just like any other of the beasts. While the tribe raided, they also became known as the world's finest dragonslayers.

Bringing forth the present sees a young band of vikings returning from their voyage in triumph as their ship is weighed down with the hoarded gold of the slain dragon, their faces still marked with its blood in victory. As the ship docked, Hiccup was greeted happily by the village blacksmith, and his mentor, Gobber the Belch. He was a friendly sort with his left hand and right leg being bitten off by dragons.

"Hiccup," the man shouted boistrously as he hobbled across the docks to slap the boy across his back, "Glad to see you back in one piece, lad." He chuckled, "How did it go? Did you kill the beast?"

Hiccup nodded, "We did...but it didn't have what we were looking for." He said sadly.

"What? Gold, jewels, glory, and honor?" The old smith asked.

"Gungnir," Hiccup said, "It wasn't there like we heard it was."

Gobber just shook his head with a smile on his face, "Rumors and hearsay are seldom true," he told the young man, "But it doesn't look like you came away empty-handed." He gestured to the spear on Hiccup's back. "Is that really what I think it is?"

Hiccup did smile as he took Fafnir's Fang from his back, "The dragon told us that it had it stashed away in the hoard." He said as Gobber examined it, "I...Gobber, I couldn't kill it..."

Gobber looked at him, "T'is no crime to dislike killing, Hiccup." The old smith sighed, "Those that did went mad with their love of killing, and even murdered those around them to insight war with another clan." He handed the spear back to the boy, "You can fight, and you do fight when you have to do it. You're no coward. And nobody here is going to say otherwise."

"Won't find me saying that." Dagur said as he hefted a bag of treasure over his shoulder, "I can't come up with a plan to save my own life, but you and Heather can. I respect that."

Astrid handed off a bag to one of the dock hands, "He's right, Hiccup, you've got more brains than the whole village put together."

"What am I, fish bait?" Heather huffed from behind her.

Hiccup laughed at them as the treasure was unloaded and reloaded into carts to be taken to his father's longhouse, "When will Dad be back?"

"Should be sometime either tonight, or on the morrow." Gobber grinned with a shiny metal tooth glinting in the fading light. "He'll be glad to see you, too, lad. Raids have been getting to be slim pickings lately. The gold and silver will be welcome for trade."

Hiccup looked off at the horizon, hoping to see his father's sail.

The black cloud of smoke filled the air its scent mixed in with oil, and burning flesh. The screams of the living were impossible to tell from the screams of the dying. Men and women wielding axes chased them from their homes, taking what little wealth they could find.

Standing on a small hill overlooking the carnage was a giant of a man with a cloak of white fur around his shoulders, and plated helm and armor[6]. His face was grim as he survyed the butchery. "So much death for so little," he muttered as the huts burned to ashes. He shook his head as his crew took their looted supplies to the boats. He took his horn from his waist and raised it to his lips to give one long blast, calling off the raid.

The vikings below immediately stopped their assault and began making their way back to the boats. The man shook his head, "Forgive me, Valka, for this is not how I wished for our clan to live." He sighed as he descended the hill toward his boats. His only wish now was to return home, and see his son.

"Stoick!" Shouted his lieutenant, Spitelout Jorgenson. "Why do you stop us? There's plenty more to be had!"

The man quailed under the larger viking's gaze as he answered, "We're here to take food for our people, Jorgenson, not starve these poor sods out," he said, "Leave what remains for them."

"But we barely have enough to get by to next year!" Jorgenson argued, and immediately regreted doing so.

The look the larger viking gave him could have made a dragon quake in fear, "Do you challenge me, Jorgenson?" He reached for the axe at his back, "Do you wish a holmgang{4}?"

"No! But - !" Spitelout backed away, "But what will we do? We don't have enough food."

Stoick nodded, "Aye, the dragons leave little behind once they've claimed an area." He said, looking out toward the half-burned fields, "There's clear sign of one all over this village. Sickly folk, burned skin, and many graves." He turned back to the sea, "If we linger here much longer, it may wake up and decide to pay us a visit."

"And where do we go from here?" Spitelout asked, "Do we raid another village?"

Stoick shook his head, "We will go home." He said, "We've been away the entire raiding season, and the ice will be getting thick by now." He frowned, "Besides, what good would it do to raid villages that don't have enough food to feed themselves?"

Glossary:

[1] Recurve Bow - Assassin's Creed Valhalla - Mythical tier appearance

[2] Doppelhander Greatsword - Assassin's Creed Valhalla - Mythical tier appearance

[3] Dreka Shield - Assassin's Creed Valhalla - Mythical tier appearance

[4] Yngling Seax - Assassin's Creed Valhalla - Mythical tier appearance

[5] Fafnir's Fang - Assassin's Creed Valhalla - Mythical tier appearance

[6] Gallogach Armor - Assassin's Creed Valhalla - Mythical tier appearance

{1} Drengir - Warriors

{2} Draugr - Ghoul(s)

{3} Althing - A clan gathering

{4} Holmgang - A duel to the death

Author's Note: The dragons in this story are far from friendly, just like some of the vikings. This story will feature Hiccup paired with Merida. Any other characters that resemble historical figures in this fic will be accidental, or just plain miracles.