CHAPTER 24: New Pacifists
Another day had passed. And this was an important day in particular because it had been 24 hours following the announcement of Grugg Hawkon's emergency decree which in effect stripped the tribe of its usual democratic institutions for a 'temporary' basis, in order to combat the emergency of the wild dragon attacks.
From this point onwards the only thing that kept Hawkon's power at check was the Founding Father, but he seemed to be less and less motivated to use his own power to keep Hawkon in check. The permission he granted to Hawkon for the emergency decree was a prime example of that.
Across Pacifist Island, everyone seemed to be falling in line. Quite literally. Because there was a huge queue of Pacifist vikings that stretched all the way across the island, through the many huts and villages on the rural plains, leading up to the wooden palace. This was so they could hand in their names, the names of their families and their children, for the purpose of keeping everyone in check for safety reasons. Despite the unorthodox nature of such a measure and one that could easily be manipulated to further erode their rights as a tribe, the Pacifists seemed to be going along with it today as the sun shone down on their island.
After all, a good chunk of the vikings had voted for Hawkon in the last election so maybe they were all more than happy to embrace this brand new start and new era, and new lifestyle.
"Please stay in one line and don't cut through. This is a highly important situation for us lads, so let's not break up the queue or anything like that!" a Pacifist viking monitoring the others in the line said.
There seemed to be a group of Pacifists standing directly on the left and right of the queue as it went up - they were stood there like hawks watching the line making sure everything was being obeyed. These vikings in particular had went knocking on the huts of everyone on the island in the morning to make sure they were in attendance for handing in their names. Under Hawkon's decree it wasn't a question of whether they wanted to hand in their names - because they didn't have a choice.
In total there were over 50,000 names to get through for Grugg Hawkon's new team of trusted vikings at the top of the tribe. A couple of vikings close to him whom he trusted were sat on a wooden desk with tons of map-looking papers that appeared ancient with their pale yellow colours. The Pacifist Chieftan himself wasn't there at the moment, but that didn't stop the tribe from doing this anyways.
Under the permission of the Founding Father too, Grugg Hawkon had formed something the Pacifist Tribe never had in its history before, yet something the Hairy Hooligans and Hiccup had back on Old Berk in the days of Stoick, and what they arguably still had now on New Berk - a council.
The Pacifist Tribe, prior to Hawkon, had a political system where the Chieftan, as the democratically elected Chieftan, controlled the ins and outs of the tribe and such alongside the Founding Father who kept the Chieftan in check. That wasn't going to change at all under Hawkon. Not at all.
The creation of a council of vikings similar to what the Hairy Hooligans had, who made the big decisions of the tribe and were basically the viking's equivalent of a government, was simply Hawkon's way to make his eventual takeover of power feel free, democratic and involved in the eyes of the Pacifists he now led. The 'New Pacifist council' was basically going to lack any formidable power apart from some symbolic decisions - the rest of the power was in Hawkon's hands, to an extent. The Founding Father was still an obstacle in that respect.
The council wasn't ever going to be allowed to make decisions on the fighters, or anything beyond the island or any outside affairs. It was a symbolic creation in itself for Hawkon to cover himself with.
But nonetheless, Hawkon creating a viking equivalent of a government in the form of the New Pacifist council was not only a way for him to make his power grab in the future look and feel legal and free to the Pacifists, but to also 'update' the tribe so he could continue to change it in his own name. It was the only thing he was ever going to 'borrow' from the Hairy Hooligans. The council, in Hawkon's view, was set to be given power to make announcements and declarations for the outside tribes to receive, basically acting as the voice of the tribe, but that was about it.
Numerous voices could be heard inside the wooden palace as Pacifist vikings in their white gear and shiny helmets awaited with some intensity to give their names to a couple of the Pacifist council members, many of whom had much bigger steel helmets than their fellow vikings in order to symbolise their position.
"Name lad?" one of them asked, having to speak up due to the congregating voices echoing off the corners of the hall they were in.
"Haxe Halmre," the Pacifist replied.
"Okay. Just so you know, we're doing this in order to keep count of the tribe. Chieftan Hawkon has permitted us to do this for our safety. Is that fine with you?" the New Pacifist council member asked.
"Not a problem at all, I wholeheartedly welcome our new Chieftan with raised arms and swords!"
"Good to hear it. Head on out the palace and remember to vote for our Chieftan in a few days time," the council viking said.
The election was also approaching. Ever since it was called a slew of violence had grew towards the opponents standing against Grugg Hawkon, some of whom couldn't even attend or be involved in the campaign because of the sheer brutality shown by what was obviously Hawkon's supporters in the tribe. But the Pacifist Chieftan hadn't acknowledged any of it, not once has he mentioned anything about it, and he did so for one good reason. To keep himself out of the Founding Father's attention.
It was now a few more days later and election day was thrust upon the tribe. It was a day of fear and nervousness from specific members of the tribe. Voting was absolutely compulsory, and if you dared not turn out to vote there were huge repercussions to be faced. That was never the case in the history of the Pacifist Tribe until now, and that alone was enough for a minority of Hawkon supporting vikings to insanely regret their decision in backing him.
Many Pacifist council members had guarded the wooden boxes containing the votes, and as the tribe queued up like they did a few days ago to hand in their names to the council for the 'safety of the tribe', more and more suspiciously looking guards stood all over the numerous lines leading to the ballot boxes situated on the island. And when vikings got to the actual ballot boxes, they were, for the first time in their tribe's history once again, not allowed to cast a vote without another viking besides them. Hardly the freedoms and democracy of the 'Old Pacifist' tribe.
"Hi, I'm looking to vote, do I need to go somewhere else?" a Pacifist viking asked one of the council vikings who remained stood besides him inside one of the huts containing a ballot box, basically looking directly at his yellow soggy ballot paper.
"Under the decree mate you're gonna vote for Grugg Hawkon. There's no way around it. We have your name in the council, for safety reasons. Vote for Hawkon so your name is kept on the good books," the council member uttered.
"Pardon?"
"We're currently under a threat from wild dragons. I'm simply making sure we're all chipping in and agreeing to the decree set by our Chieftan. Vote for him and also, like I've told the others prior to you, please write your name on the ballot too. We can track anyone down who happens to risk our tribe succumbing to the dragons out there after all. Names are in the thousands in our papers within the palace after all."
The council viking wasn't bluffing. His point was as clear as a crystal - either vote for Grugg Hawkon or suffer the consequences. This was the moment at which plenty of Pacifists had realised what Hawkon was all about. But there was nothing they could do about it for he had an insanely large following in the tribe. They felt like their lives were at risk not from the dragons, as dangerous and as unprovoked as their attacks were, but from their own tribe members.
"Okay, will do, haha..." the Pacifist replied, chuckling to hide his nervousness and fear.
"Good lad. Remember, this is for our own good, not just yours."
The whole day had passed and now it was time to reveal the votes. It was night time on Pacifist Island, hundreds of New Pacifist banners and flags were draped across the wooden palace as it was nearly fully rebuilt following its attack from the latest wild dragon emergence. Thousands and thousands of Pacifist vikings had gathered to the front of the central palace in the middle of the island.
The same wooden platform used for the last election results in which the candidates had stood on it in front of the entire tribe was back. In the calm dark night it was set out with plenty of large torches with burning flames so bright they almost resembled miniature suns. Tull Brann, the only candidate who was able to come back into the campaign following his brutal unprovoked attacks from who were most likely Hawkon supporters, was already on the stage.
A large group of buffed up Pacifists wearing pure black gear, a stark contrast to the white gear usually worn by the Pacifists and which were still being worn by the tribe aside from a specific group of them, emerged from the side of the stage and amongst them was none other than the current Chieftan himself, Grugg Hawkon. He got up to the stage and as soon as he did, the entire crowd unveiled their saluting swords and did the chant amongst roaring cheers.
"SWOOOORDDDSSS!" they all cried out from their lungs, raising their swords upright at their Chieftan in a sign of support.
The sword salute was then followed by a massive wave of cheers in which the Pacifists looked like they wanted to get onto the wooden platform to hug their new Chieftan. Hawkon could only clap and wave back at the tribe as he wore a New Pacifist logo armband on his black gear. His large boots gave him the aura of a fighting warrior as his belt hooked over his shoulders and waist to give his gear a unique stand out. He continued waving and smiling at his adoring 'fans'.
Tull Brann could only stay silent like a rabbit in headlights. He feared for his life, and secretly for the tribe. The man besides him on the platform was about to conduct a fraud never seen before, in his opinion, in the Pacifist Tribe.
Eventually the crowd had calmed down and the Pacifist viking reading the results, a member of Hawkon's council, began the opening statement.
"RIGHT, LET US ALL BEGIN BY THANKING OUR CHIEFTAN, OUR SAVIOUR, GRUGG HAWKON FOR HIS WORTHY ACTIONS IN PROTECTING US SO FAR! THIS ELECTION HAS COME AT SHORT NOTICE AS IT WAS CALLED A WEEK AGO BUT IT'S FOR THE GOOD OF THE TRIBE! I CAN ANNOUNCE THAT WE HAVE HAD AN ASTOUNDING TURNOUT THAT'S BROKEN THE LAST TURNOUT FIGURES. WE'RE UP TO 56,930 VOTES IN TOTAL!"
A collective 'woah' broke out amongst the crowd at hearing that figure. Grugg Hawkon continued to stand solemly as the crowd calmed down from its brief cheers at the revelation of the turnout. All Hawkon could think about secretly was his plans for the archipelago and forcing Hiccup and the Hooligans back to the archipelago from his ultimate goal for the outside tribes. This election was the spring start for all of this to culminate in the tribe becoming a dictatorship officially.
"I HEREBY GIVE NOTICE THAT THE TOTAL NUMBER OF VOTES GIVEN TO EACH CANDIDATE WAS AS FOLLOWS..."
"TULL BRANN...THE 'OLD PACIFISTS' PARTY...12,031 VOTES!"
Not a single clap or cheer could be heard for that result, and the deafening silence only caused Tull Brann to gulp and feel more and more in the spotlight but not for the right reason. The sweat started draining down his forehead as the silence seemed to accelerate his internal panic attack,
"CHIEFTAN HAWKON...THE 'NEW PACIFISTS' PARTY...44,899 VOTES!"
A massive wave of cheers broke out amongst the tribe in attendance. The sword salutes broke out once again amongst manly roars towards their Chieftan as Hawkon waved and chuckled. He raised his arm up to his forehead and gave off a salute towards his tribe as he basked in the massive result. Jumping from 23,032 votes in the last election to 44,899 was an absolutely monstrous jump, and despite Hawkon's delightful smiles and waves and salutes, he was actually a bit disappointed at the result. But he was going to deal with that later.
"MY FRIENDS, I DON'T NEED TO SAY A SINGLE WORD...SIR CHIEFTAN, THE FLOOR IS YOURS, AND CONGRATULATIONS!" the Pacifist reading out the results yelled.
Hawkon approached the front of the platform to thousands of cheering Pacifists as he shook the hand of the viking in charge of reading out the results. He knelt down and bowed to the Chieftan before quickly exiting the platform. Tull Brann took a step back as he basically became the backroom guy to the main event of the night in Hawkon himself.
"Thank you all for this resounding mandate...when I first became Chieftan I promised that all of my actions would be based on you, you, and YOU, and I never intend on diverging from that promise. With such a result I am confidently able to assure all those doubters, all those enemies of the tribe who want us to fail, that I have you all right behind me. That we will build up and begin the process of rearmament as fast as I can. That we will pull out of the Docile Dragon Alliance within the imminent few days. That I will build a new future where our kids, friends, family will all be given a new purpose in life as we begin the road to a better world for vikings. Nothing is going to come between me and that, and if I have to show my force through certain means to deliver for you all, then so BE IT!" Hawkon roared, his voice echoing well across the crowd from the platform.
"With the conclusion of the election I will put into effect in its entirety my emergency decree intent on protecting us all with temporary measures for my time that I hold this role. Our young lads will be used as future fighters for our protection! our families will be used to put food on our rotten old tables, and our workers will be used to construct the weapons and gear we will need for the future to protect ourselves! I will deliver not just domestically on our tribe to the extent other Chieftans will wish they were here right now, I will deliver overseas to the extent certain Chieftans wish that they had never caused the dire conditions on our archipelago that we have to work with! A NEW ERA FOR THE NEW PACIFISTS, SWOOORDS!" Hawkon chanted, holding his saluting sword upright.
"SWOORDS!" the crowd yelled, before raising them upright again for another gigantic roar, "SWOOORDDDSSSS!"
Privately, Hawkon's disappointment came from the fact that there were still 12,000 or so Pacifists who hadn't backed him. His number of votes saw a significant jump but even tampering with the ballots via his supporters, threatening those who dared to not vote for him, and having his campaign opponents be beat up to intimidate any potential political disagreements, it still wasn't enough to show full unity. He wanted over 50,000 votes at the very least.
But it had to do for now. Grugg Hawkon got his vote and he got his result, and until something drastic changed he had no intention of another election for the next three years. Whether he had the intention to do another one ever again was still a question.
One thing is clear though - should Hiccup and the Hooligans ever decide one day to return to Old Berk as a visit to relive the memories of the old days, they wouldn't be far anymore from a Pacifist Tribe drastically overhauled and transformed from the peaceful democratic tribe it was known to be, to a violent tyrannical Pacifist Tribe which had unknown overseas intentions in mind.