Four days later…

Hiccup's foot and prosthetic landed down upon the snowy brown grass as he dismounted from Toothless and squinted his eyes, looking up ahead from where he and his friends stood.

He gave a light sigh, letting out a cloudy breath of warm air.

For days had they traveled across the vast lands of Southern Valnr, from the east to the west, flying over its plains, hills, and highlands whilst avoiding any and all orcish outposts that were set up across the landscapes.

But as they journeyed on further and further, the weather became colder and colder, and the skies turned evermore cloudier as winter came ever closer with each passing day.

Eventually however, they even managed to cross the river that ran down southwards from Aesilgard and into the ocean, making their way into the west of Southern Valnr.

And now, there they were, standing atop a hill as they overlooked the sight that now before laid them. Their eyes now fell upon the vast forests that stood in-between them and the elven realm of Nordell, which was two to three days' flight.

"Is that it, then?" asked Hiccup, turning his head back to Arn, as he too dismounted from Toothless.

"That's it," he nodded. "Within those woods lies the town of Daneshire, one of my tribe's main settlements; and far beyond it, Nordell, now only a few days away... Though if we can, we should stop by at Daneshire to get some rest. There's an inn we can stay at for the night, and considering where we are, it should only take until dusk for us to reach it."

Hiccup looked back down at Toothless with a look of wonder, and asked, "Do you think you can continue flying?"

"Unfortunately it's a no-go," crooned Toothless as he shook his head, replying in Dragonese. "My wings feel exhausted and sore - almost like I've been carrying your dad around all day. I need to take a rest."

"Same here!" immediately replied Stormfly, catching Hiccup's attention as she squawked at him. "I think it's fair that you riders give us dragons a break from this flight. We've been flying for more than half the day without a break - longer than usual. Can't you see how tired we are?"

"She makes a good point," nodded the Night Fury. "We don't usually fly for this long without a rest."

While Stormfly and Toothless continued their talk, the Nadder's rider, Astrid, could not ignore the contact that was seemingly happening between both the two dragons and Hiccup, and soon enough, she noticed the other dragons joining in as well, as if it were a discussion.

"What are they saying?" she asked Hiccup.

"They want to rest," he answered her. "They're tired from the flight, and want to take a moment to recover their strength. I say we should do as they ask. Let's make camp."

"Whoa whoa whoa- hold on! This is just going to slow us down!" complained Snotlout. "I'm telling you, their wings can last all day! We can't just-"

"Our dragons' health is more important than ours," interrupted Hiccup, turning his gaze onto Snotlout. "Remember the time you nearly lost Hookfang? That was a result of overdoing him for days."

"He's not wrong. You nearly killed me that day, muttonhead," responded Hookfang in Dragonese, as he spoke gnarly and rough.

"Either way, my word is final, and as your chief, I say we let them rest," demanded Hiccup, as he proceeded to gesture with his hands for the riders to get down from their dragons.

"Everyone dismount, and someone, please see to it that we get a fire going."

"I have spare wood packed under my saddle," nodded Fishlegs. "I'll get right to it."

One by one the riders hopped off their dragons, and slowly, they began to settle, all while Fishlegs set down the remaining spare wood that he had, knowing that he required all of it to make a fire.

As soon as every stick and branch was placed, Fishlegs lowered his brows and sharply snapped his fingers, immediately conjuring a spark of flame as it flickered on his thumb like a candle, and like so, he leaned his hand in and set the pile of wood ablaze.

"Ah…" he sighed, feeling the heat touch his skin. "This'll keep us warm for a bit."

As such, the group then proceeded to sit down around the fire, keeping close to it and allowing its warmth to relieve them from the coldness of the wintry weather. Even the dragons, despite having extremely hot bodies, laid close by the fire.

However, only Hiccup remained away from it.

The lad now stood alone as he continued looking over the hill, gazing down towards the forest while also keeping his brown furred cloak close to block out the freezing weather.

The only ones who seemed to notice him were Astrid, Fishlegs, and Arn, all while Snotlout and the Twins became lost in their discussion of who-knew-what.

"Why doesn't he sit with us?" asked Astrid as she gave a concerned look.

"I think he's pondering about the battle that's coming to Nordell," responded Arn, crossing his arms as he looked over his grey furred mantle towards Hiccup. "Maybe he believes that Drago will show up at the battle. Maybe he believes that he'll finally be able to get his revenge after what he did to Stoick. Though I can't be certain. I simply don't know."

"Do you two think Drago will show up at Nordell?" asked Fishlegs, glancing between both of the blonde vikings.

"Don't know," they both replied in unison, to which Astrid added, "Though I think one of us should go up and talk with him, just to make sure he doesn't get too lonely."

"How about you, Astrid?" asked Fishlegs. "I mean, you're his girlfriend after all."

"True," she nodded. "I honestly need to keep that in mind, because everyday that this war rages on, I seem to slowly forget."

To that, the lass then proceeded to stand to her feet, wiping the snow off of her white furred cloak as she silently made her way over to Hiccup, still pondering away at his thoughts.

"Hey Hiccup?" she called out to him. "I was wondering if you would maybe like to have a chat. Just to…"

To Astrid's surprise however, the lad did not seem to react to her. She knew now and well that he was deep in his thoughts, and upon making her way to his side, she went silent. At first, all she did was remain like that, all the while looking out over the distant forests, just as Hiccup did...

...But when she finally made a sound, it came not in the form of a word, but of soft humming, and then it began to slowly turn into something more as she started uttering under her breath, until her words became louder and louder. Soon it became clear what she was doing.

She was singing. Astrid Hofferson herself began softly singing.

Within just a mere few seconds of hearing the melody, Hiccup's eyes turned away and landed onto her, yet the only response he could give upon the sight of her smoothly harmonizing was a light gasp, to which his jaw nearly dropped.

"Through oceans of cold,"

"Through stormy seas, I fly…"

"The winds of the South blow,"

"To the North we come to unite."

"Until the darkness lies still…"

"Astrid..." he began. "That sounded amazing... Why didn't you tell us you could sing?"

The lass chuckled, shrugging her shoulders. "I wouldn't necessarily say that, but… I have been doing it in my personal time for a while."

"What are you talking about?" asked Hiccup. "The last time I heard you sing was on Melody Island, and you were awful. But this…"

"Hiccup…" she sighed. "It's not that big of a deal."

"Sure it is!" called out Tuffnut from behind, and as the two turned around, they saw the entire group staring back at them, particularly towards Astrid.

"Seriously Astrid, why didn't ya tell us you could sing?" asked Ruffnut, leaning back against Barf and Belch. "You and Arn could've sung a duet!"

"Hel, why don't you sing us another one?"

Astrid's eyes widened with embarrassment as her cheeks began to slightly blush. "No- I couldn't-"

"Come on Astrid, don't be embarrassed!" chuckled Fishlegs. "If it makes you comfortable, we can wait!"

"I could always play my lute while you sing!" said aloud Arn, holding up the instrument that he had brought along as he plucked the strings in a joking manner.

Now Astrid definitely felt awkward. The lass stood there frozen whilst being stared at by multiple pairs of eyes, even from the dragons, as they all expected her to sing. What was she to them? She was no bard or minstrel. She was a viking! Why out of all people was she to do this?

'...Though then again,' she thought to herself. 'Vikings do tend to sing during dark times like these… and the others did seem to like it. I guess it wouldn't hurt to give it a go.'

To that end, Astrid cleared her throat, turning her gaze to stare back out at the forests that laid yonder. From there, a moment of complete silence passed as the anticipation from everyone grew, and soon enough, Astrid began her tune. It was a song every viking knew.

She sung,

"When the viking charged, in to fight headlong, with my blade at their side, they then sang a song…"

"And when the fight began, through the marching hordes, the army of evil, swarmed down with their swords…"

"They came after me, through the bloody raid, clashing with my axe, and dulling my blade,"

"While I fought alone, one against hundreds, a viking came forth and, brought forth thunder!"

Out of the sound of her singing, the noise of a lute could be heard as Arn began to play along with the melody. As he did, Astrid then sung,

"Pass an ale to your viking, oh taverns of Midgard, oh taverns of Midgard!"

"Pass an ale to your viking, oh taverns of Midgard! Hey ho! Hey ho!"

For a moment Astrid paused, giving herself a moment to recover her breath. After all, she was no minstrel. But before she could continue, another voice started to sing. It was Arn's.

Through the loud playing of his lute, he then sung,

"From the winter's rise, he fought the mighty war, waging all over, like the anger of Thor…"

"He cut through their flanks, shattering their ranks, pushing them back to, from whence they came!"

"That's his legend told, from the tribes of old, making the evil frail, now POUR HIM some ale!"

"Pass an ale to your viking, oh taverns of Midgard, oh taverns of Midgard!"

"Pass an ale to your viking, oh taverns of Midgard! Hey ho! Hey ho!"

"Oh pass an ale to your viking, oh taverns of Midgard, oh taverns of Midgard!"

"Pass an ale to your viking, and sing him a song! Hey ho! Hey ho!"

As the last lyric was sung, and the last string on the lute was plucked, everything came to a silence as the two blonde-headed vikings looked at each other with approved smirks on their faces, whilst everyone remained speechless from their bard-like performance.

It was as if they walked into a viking hall and watched a band of minstrels playing and singing their sagas and melodies.

"Wow…" said Hiccup. "Now that's something else. How about another one, milady?"

…

Hours passed by after the vikings and their dragons flew off once more, and soon dusk fell upon the world of Midgard. Snow began to fall from the skies as Hiccup and the others approached the wooden gates of Daneshire, which stood closed before them.

By foot they approached the entrance to the Alsworn village, running out from the cover of the woods with their dragons by them, and their furred cloaks tucked close.

"So what now?" asked Astrid with her hands gripped onto her risen hood. "How do we get in?"

"Usually people just knock and ask the gatekeeper to let them in," replied Arn. "But I don't want to be the one to do it. I can't let them know I'm here."

Hiccup arched a brow, asking, "Why not?"

"Because then I'll get swarmed by dozens of people asking me where in Midgard I've been. Have you forgotten who their future chieftain is?"

"Well, I can't argue there," Hiccup nodded. "If it makes you uncomfortable, then I'll do it. But before I do, I must ask, will the villagers be disturbed by the sight of our dragons?"

Arn shook his head. "Not at all. Riders from Aesilgard pass through this village all the time, by dragon, horse, and sometimes even gryphon. Should they wish to stay the night, their mounts may settle down at the stables..."

"...Either way, we're good to enter."

"Looks like we're in business then," said Hiccup approvingly. "Everyone group up behind me, and make sure to cover Arn. It's about time we get out of the snow."

And thus the riders and the dragons did as such, lining up behind Hiccup while making cover for Arn so that the gatekeeper would not recognize him.

The auburn-headed viking then stepped forward, and with a firm fist, he knocked hard thrice on the gate.

At first, no response came. Only silence. But after a small moment passed by, the gates began to swiftly open, cranking against its metal hinges until it was fully unbolted.

A large blonde-bearded man came walking out; a guard who wore a plated horned helmet over his head, as well as armor and blue colors that were similar to Arn's, albeit not as well designed.

He was an Alsworn warrior, that was for certain. Yet despite his appearance, Hiccup knew that the guard was there to talk, and not to be stared at.

The gatekeeper gave a glance at each of the young vikings, including Arn who stood behind them; thankfully enough, he was unable to recognize him. Then, his eyes gazed towards their dragons, and he suddenly raised a brow.

"Young travelers," he began. "Why do you come before the gates of Daneshire with dragons? What is your business here?"

"We're heading for the town's inn," said Hiccup.

"The inn?" asked the viking. "Why? You aren't bandits, are you? I do not recognize the armor you and your companions wear."

"What-? No! We're not bandits! We only wish to stay for the night, and that's that," replied Hiccup, shaking his head. "Keep out of our business."

"All right, all right," nodded the gatekeeper. "Take it easy, lad. I merely had to be sure you weren't a bandit, or even a mercenary working for the orcs. Times are dark, and we must be careful."

"Regardless however, you may come through!"

With that, the Alsworn warrior then made way for the group, gesturing with a hand for them to enter through the gates, and one by one, they all went through, all without the guard recognizing Arn, who still kept his head down.

...But for a moment, it seemed he was able to recognize the Alsworn armor that the lad wore; yet instead of questioning it, he was merely quick to shrug it off, believing that it was just him seeing things again.

"I swear, too many strange-looking travelers have been passing by as of recently," the man muttered. "It's getting me delusional..."

Soon, the gates shut behind Hiccup and the others, and the group was finally in.

From there, they began their walk through the snowy yet colorful streets of Daneshire, with their dragons tagging along from behind, passing by hut after hut as Arn, being the guide that he was, gave directions for Hiccup and the group.

Meanwhile, the folk they passed by along the roads, both guards and villagers alike, did not seem to mind them or their dragons. It was just as Arn said; the townsfolk did not mind the presence of dragons. However, Hiccup was surprised that no one questioned him and the others like the gatekeeper did, nor give them looks.

After all, they wore unfamiliar gear to the populace, did they not?

Regardless of the happenings around them however, the group eventually managed to stumble upon Daneshire's three-storied inn. Upon first glance, the young vikings could already hear loud chattering and cheering coming from inside the inn, along with the sound of tavern music roaring through its walls.

Then there were the stables that stood next to the inn, tall and overlooking, and surprisingly, empty. To Hiccup, the structure looked like a mix of both a regular stable, and a dwarven gryphon aviary - which he had seen multiple times in books and stories, just never up-close.

Still, it would have to do.

"Do I really need to stay out here?" asked Toothless in Dragonese. "I want to go into the inn with you."

Hiccup sighed as he shook his head. "Sorry Toothless, but there's nothing that I nor Arn can do. Plus, we won't be able to fit all of you in there."

"At least it's better than nothing," gargled Meatlug. "As long as I get to sleep peacefully, I'll be fine with it."

"Well there aren't any other dragons in there, or even horses and gryphons as a matter of fact," replied Arn. "So… I guess you six will be the only ones."

"That makes it all the more better," the Gronckle added.

"Well, we'd better not wait," said Astrid, glancing back at Hiccup. "And if you could let me, I'd like to go into the stables to see if the stable hand is there, just so we can get our dragons settled."

"Go ahead," nodded Hiccup.

"Just don't keep us out here for too long!" responded Snotlout, who seemed to be jogging in place. "I'm freezing like Hel here! It's too cold!"

"Well what do you expect, Snotlout?" chuckled Arn. "Welcome to the north of Midgard."

…

The warmth of the brightly lit inn hit the young vikings' faces upon making their way through the door, and what a sight it was.

In the center of the room, a great and long fire-pit crackled with burning hot flames as sparks flickered into the air like fireflies. Around it, two dozen cheerful patrons sat at their tables in comfortable high-back chairs, with furred rugs beneath their feet, mead in their mugs, and warm food on their plates, all whilst a band of minstrels from nearby were playing music for them. The drum banged, the lute strummed, the fiddle fidgeted, and the flute blew like a soft breeze.

And it was at that moment that the young vikings felt lucky for stumbling upon such a cozy inn.

"So… where should we get started?" asked Fishlegs, gazing around the large room of the inn.

"I dunno about you, but how 'bout that guy standing in the back behind that counter?" responded Tuffnut, pointing towards an aproned man that stood behind the nearly emptied counter in the back of the room, with the exception of a few people sitting by it.

"I guess that's the inn-keeper," said Snotlout with his arms crossed. "Nice spotting, Tuff. You really contributed to our cause."

"Really?"

"No."

Like the young adults they were, the whole group, aside from Tuffnut, responded with low but somewhat heavy laughter as they began making their way towards the back, just as the Thorston said to himself,

"And I thought I was the funny one."

As they made way across to the other side of the inn, Arn, who now stood closer to Hiccup, made sure to keep his head down, all whilst looking around to make sure that no one was watching. To his luck, he remained in the clear.

Eventually, they managed to reach the counter without catching any attention, and came forth before the inn-keeper, who seemed to be preoccupied as he washed and scrubbed through a mug.

The man had to have been in his middle years. Although he lacked any hair on his head, his bushy ginger beard was enough to tell Hiccup that he was older than the lad by maybe twenty years.

Now standing in front of the counter, Hiccup cleared his throat, and began with, "Excuse me."

The inn-keeper narrowed his head up from the mug, glancing back at Hiccup and his friends with a warm smile.

"Good evening, young lads and lasses!" he began. "How may I serve you tonight? Do you require sustenance? Or would you maybe like to sleep in a room for the night? Whatever you need, I can give! We have a lodging opened for eight tonight, and since there is seven of you…"

"Actually, that's exactly what we were going to ask," said Hiccup. "We'd like to sleep here for the night, and we'd be happy to have something to eat. My friends and I are hungry."

"Well then consider yourselves lucky tonight!" the inn-keeper chuckled. "You need only to pay half price for a room and your food, since I am only serving seven of you rather than eight. "

"That's... an odd policy," said Astrid, crossing her arms with a smirk. "But I think it's a great deal. So how much do we owe you?"

"Only twenty silver coins," he replied. "And I only need one of you to-"

"I'll pay for it," interrupted Arn, still keeping his head narrowed down as he landed a pouch of coins smack-down on the counter, catching the attention of the inn-keeper who swiftly walked over to the lad to take the small satchel.

Upon picking it up, the man raised it to his left ear as he gave it a firm shake, and after a very short moment, another warm smile appeared on his face as he knew that it was the amount he needed, thus he gave the lad a nod and a cheerful pat on the shoulder.

"Make yourselves at home!" the man grinned, before turning his gaze back to Hiccup. "Now, would you and your friends like to sit at a table, Mister…?"

"Haddock," the lad immediately responded with. "Just call me Haddock. And if you wouldn't mind, my friends and I would prefer to sit here."

"Not at all! Please, sit! I will be with you shortly, along with some mead for you, freshly brewed!"

And just like so, the group of seven grinningly made themselves comfortable as they sat in the row of high-back chairs lined up in front of the wooden counter.

But as they settled in, Hiccup asked Arn in a lowered voice, "Where in the name of Midgard did you get that kind of money?"

"Ragnar gave it to me before we left Votunheim," the lad answered. "He said that he owed my father silver after he won a bet against him. However, he was never able to give it to him since he passed away shortly afterwards. And so, he gave it to me, more-so as a gift."

"What was the bet about?" asked Fishlegs curiously.

Arn chuckled. "Best you guys don't ask about it."

From there, the young vikings sat and waited for the inn-keeper as he went around the counter serving other patrons that needed to be served, and after a bit of waiting, the man finally came walking towards them, carrying seven mugs by their handles within the grip of his hands.

True to his word, they were filled with fresh mead.

"Freshly brewed, as promised, Mister Haddock," he smiled, before placing the mugs of mead down one by one in front of the young vikings. "Now, is there anything in particular that you lads and lasses would like to eat?"

"Anything that has meat in it, really. Nothing specific," responded Hiccup, to which the rest of the gang nodded in agreement.

"Then how about our renowned meat-pies?" the inn-keeper asked. "Eat one, and you'll be well-fed for the rest of the night. What do you say?"

"Sounds good," Hiccup nodded. "Meat-pies it is."

"Excellent," the man grinned. "Enjoy your drinks. If you need a refill, call on one of my assistants. I will be back shortly."

As the inn-keeper walked off into the scullery, Hiccup and the others proceeded to pick up their mugs, and for a moment, they all gazed at one another in silent embarrassment.

"I… guess we do a cheers?" asked Astrid.

"Eh. Why not," said Hiccup, raising up his mug as his friends quickly leaned in for the cheers, and as their drinks met, the lad said aloud in Norse, "Skol!"

"Skol!" the others repeated as they loudly clanged their drinks in unison, before proceeding to take sips from their mugs.

The Twins however downed their mead in one gulp.

"Odin's beard, slow down!" said Astrid warningly. "You guys are going to get drunk if you gouge down your drinks like that."

"We know," said Ruffnut with a grin. "And that's the best part!"

"Definitely. And that includes waking up with a hangover and feeling like dragon dung," Snotlout replied sarcastically as he put a fist against his temple. "Can't you two think for once before you decide to do something stupid?"

"Hey, we're not about thinking. We're about action," responded Tuffnut, gazing back at Snotlout with a slight hint of a glare. "Plus, I think it's boring. I prefer destroying something rather than reading a stupid book-"

"Okaaay guys," interrupted Hiccup, spreading his arms outwards. "Let's calm down before we get out of hand. We're supposed to enjoy this night, not go on starting fights."

"It's probably just the hunger," stated Astrid. "We haven't had a proper meal for days. But I agree, we should take it easy."

"Well then," sighed Arn. "If you guys are really impatient, why don't we tell some stories while we wait for our food? It can be about anything, really, and it'll make the time go by faster."

"We use to do this kind of thing on Dragon's Edge all the time… I like the idea," happily nodded Hiccup. "Who wants to go first?"

…

From the North, they came, riding hard and fast.

The hooves of four large horses galloped heavily as they rode south through the snowy rolling hills and plains. They carried riders whose appearances gave off nothing but a presence of dread to any who were unfortunate to cross their path, for the riders that rode forth were the Dark Master's most terrifying servants.

They were dark vikings. They were the Four.

Their black war steeds hastily cantered at a speed that was too fast for any normal horse to ride at. It was unnatural, and it was through the use of dark sorcery that made it at all possible.

But as the four dark vikings caught view of the vast woods that separated them from their prey, they came to a complete halt, and peered at the sight of the forest with their menacing gaze.

And true to the word, they were menacing.

From head to toe, blackened steel-plate armored and shaped their horrifying juggernaut figures - making them appear even bigger than a normal man, whilst from the waist downwards, dark robes flowed freely like kilts, covering their legguards and boots. Like every other dark viking however, the Four also wore horned helmets that secluded their faces, masking their identities, and preventing anyone from seeing who they really were, for the only one who knew was the Dark Master that they served.

And the Lord of the Four knew it well. It was why he was chosen and given such great power, and why the horned helmet he wore atop his head, which bore the shape of a crown, was his crown.

And he would see his master's will be done.

As his green-lit eyes turned to glance back at his three followers, whose eyes glowed teal, crimson, and purple, he unsheathed his black blade and let out a loud and piercing screech that echoed for many yards around, causing his large war-steed to let out a demonic whine.

"Gaaaggghhh! Let our presence be known in these woods, servants..." he said commandingly, his bulky voice sounding with authority. "Hunt them all down, and do not stop until they have fallen to darkness. The Dark One does not want them to leave these forests alive…"

"They will not escape us," the crimson-eyed rider replied. "We will see it done…"

And thus the Four all let out their loud, demonic, ear-bleeding screeches in unison, before proceeding to gallop onwards to begin the hunt on their exposed prey:

The Wings of Midgard.

If anyone is wondering and has this thought, yes, the second song that both Arn and Astrid sung was inspired by, 'Toss A Coin To Your Witcher.' I thought it would be a nice reference to make!

Regardless, I hope you enjoyed!

Thank you for reading!