Tables and bonfires were set up in front of Halholm's great hall, and as the feast commenced, hundreds upon hundreds of villagers gathered around both inside and outside of the hall. All were hearty and festive, sucking down ale and milk whilst dining on fish and meat.
But the inside of the great hall was something else on its own.
Upon stepping in, one would be met with a long, blazing fire-pit in the center of the hall, along with more than a dozen long-tables set up to the sides, each of which could hold up to twenty people.
Yet that was not all to see.
Large balconies stood on both sides of the great hall from above, stretching from one side of the large room to the other. To Hiccup, it was no wonder as to why so many people could fit inside.
At the other end of the hall, the lad and his friends, along with the captains and the dragons, sat by the high-table with Brann, feasting, talking, and laughing as if there was not a single worry in the world.
And as of the moment, most of the table was in deep discussion.
"Is it true that your shield was blessed by Odin?" asked Fishlegs, with most eyes at the high-table now focused on Brann and his shield, which sat against the wall next to him. "People back home said that the Allfather gave it powerful magics, according to several legends."
"Pfft! Hahaha!" laughed the hearty viking. "Of course not, lad! Truth be told, I actually found this shield within a mountain. It was in the center of the great rock itself, embedded within a pedestal of stone. The inside of the mountain was lit by a great crack in its side, which allowed sunlight and snow to seep in…"
"...And so, I decided to pick up the shield."
"And then…?" asked Heather, to which the table went silent, save for the voices of Snotlout and the Twins.
"Nothing, really!" chuckled Brann. "When I picked it up from its pedestal, the eyes and runes on the shield began to glow blue with this strange magic, as if it accepted me. After that, I just went back the way I came from and left the mountain."
"Pfft, boring story!" replied Ruffnut.
"Boring? You weren't evening listening, Ruffnut," said Astrid. "You have no room to-"
"Relax, young Astrid. There's no need to argue," spoke Valara calmly. "We should spend what time we have enjoying this moment, as after that, we'll be back on the road."
"Aye, your elven friend is right," nodded Brann. "Please, my friends, enjoy yourselves. Continue!"
As the riders continued enjoying the time they had, Hiccup, who appeared to be staring off into the blue, looked silently across the room, gazing at the vikings, elves, and dwarves who sat together, and thus he smiled. The sight of the three races disregarding their differences, and speaking happily amongst one another as fellows-in-arms and equals, was something Hiccup had never seen in person before.
Could this become Midgard after all is set and done?
"If only it had been like this back on Berk…" he said to himself.
"Is everything alright, Hiccup?"
The sound of Toothless's voice shook the lad out of his daydream, and as he looked to his left to face the dragon, who sat next to him on the floor with a near-empty bucket of fish on the table before him, he merely shook his head.
"All's fine, bud," the lad smiled, reassuring the dragon. "Just thinking and talking to myself, that's all."
"If you say so!" he warbled. "You'd better eat, though. You don't want your food going cold. I'm already three buckets in, and I still have plenty of room in my stomach."
Hiccup gave a nod and looked down at his plate. His food consisted mainly of a large slab of deer meat, a few small salmon, and a mug of warm milk.
The lad let out a sigh, taking up his knife and carving-fork as he proceeded to cut away at his food, and once again began eating.
"Is it to your liking?" asked a nearby voice.
Hiccup turned to his left, and saw Brann looking back with a smile beneath his bushy blonde beard. To that, the young viking gave a nod.
"Very much," he grinned back. "It's really good."
"Hah! Glad you like it," he chuckled. "Of course, feel free to have more after your first plate."
"I probably won't," said Hiccup. "However, Toothless and the other dragons probably want more fish. They don't appear full on their fills yet."
Brann gave a nod, turning his attention towards the hall as he let out a sharp whistle. Upon doing so, several cooks came out from two nearby doors, which led into the pantry. In their hands, they carried large buckets of fish, and as they placed them atop the high-table in front of the dragons, they took the now-emptied buckets and hurried off.
"Yes! More fish!" grinned Meatlug, salivating with her tongue out.
"Looks like I won't be eating for days after this," warbled Stormfly, as she and the rest of the dragons began their fourth round.
Astrid, who sat to Hiccup's right, gave the lad a smile. "So… are you up for a bit of a talk?"
"...Not really, to be honest," said Hiccup, before taking a sip from his warm milk. "Days of marching through the mountains have left me hungry and exhausted. For right now, I just want food and sleep."
"Hm. We all do," responded the lass. "Yet surely you're not too exhausted to have a short conversation, are you?"
The lad sighed, shrugging his shoulders. "Hmph, I guess not… Alrighty. In that case, why don't you do the honors, milady? Is there anything on your mind?"
"...Well- actually, there is something that I've been wondering ever since we stepped into this village," she said with a nod. "Aside from the fact that Halholm isn't on any of our maps, what questions me is how these people got here to begin with. When Brann first came here, these people were already here. But were they the outcasts of a long-forgotten tribe? Were they part of the Alsworn?"
"I doubt it," said Hiccup, shaking his head. "If they were Alsworn, then some would still be wearing the tribe's azure color. But none of the folk here wear that color, and the blues they have are nowhere close to it…"
"...Unless..."
Hiccup paused for a moment as he stared down in thought, with two fingers against his temple, and a thumb to his chin. From the way he gazed, it appeared to Astrid as if he had an idea at the top of his mind.
"Unless what?" asked Astrid in a hushed tone.
"...Unless they were maybe part of a clan or house that was somehow destroyed," responded Hiccup in a low voice. "With Halholm's people being the remnants of that clan. Of course, that's just a theory of mine."
"Well, it's definitely not out of the realm of possibility," said Astrid. "However, I can't see these people as being exiles. I mean- what kind of fool would exile innocent men, women, and children?"
Hiccup let out a sigh. His head shifted to his left as his eyes gazed around Brann, and fell upon Snotlout on the other side of the table, who sat in discussion amongst the Twins. Brann and the commanders all the while listened in silence, eating and drinking.
"Everything alright, babe?" asked Astrid.
"Hm? Oh- yeah. I'm fine," he nodded. "It's nothing. I'm just..."
Before either Hiccup could say another word however, a voice suddenly rose up near the entrance of the hall. A large man with a brown bushy beard came walking in, catching everyone's attention as he called out in a booming, energetic voice;
"The skálds have come to perform! It's time for some music!"
Almost immediately, cheers and applause erupted from both in and out of the great hall, and as the man made his way back out the doors, four figures walked in and took his place, standing between the hall's entrance, so that all those inside and outside could hear them.
"Haha! Some music!" cheered Brann. "One of the best parts of a feast!"
Everyone from the high-table, including the dragons, looked on at the skálds as they slowly began playing their instruments. The lead skáld was a young woman, who held a lute in her hands, whilst the second bore a drum, the third a flute, and the fourth a bag-pipe.
Once the speed picked up and the rhythm was set, hundreds of pairs of hands began clapping in unison. Even Hiccup and the riders clapped along, and soon enough, the lead skáld began to sing.
She sang;
"Over a hundred years ago, Thor came down for a mighty brew."
"He walked by foot for miles alone, and found an inn beneath the moon."
"He asked for a dozen golden ales, and the keeper yelled, o' you're insane!"
"But proved him wrong and like a gale, drank them all till they were drained!"
"Yet Thor was sober and with a smile, he marched back out into the wilds!"
"Hi-ho, hi-ho, I've got my mug and I've got my beer."
"Hi-ho, hi-ho, I'll drink until the dawn is near!"
"Hi-ho, hi-ho, this was worth without a doubt!"
"Hi-ho, hi-ho, 'cause in the morning they kicked me out!"
The great hall was suddenly filled with bellowing laughter. As the skálds continued on with their song, a few of the vikings, dwarves, and surprisingly, elves, suddenly stood up, and began to dance in the center of the hall, which in turn caught the attention of nearly everyone there.
From the high-table, Hiccup and Astrid looked on with silence, but with warm grins on their faces. For the first time in a long time, they felt joy and cheer in their hearts; it was a feeling that they had forgotten ever since they left Berk.
"You know what," began Hiccup. "I don't feel that tired anymore."
"Now that's the spirit," smiled Astrid. "All I can say is finally, we get a moment of peace. Although it may not last long, it's still worth it."
"Very much," the lad nodded. "...Perhaps you'd like to dance, milady?"
Astrid blushed, her face running pink as she immediately shook her head. "Oh gods no. I may be able to sing a saga, but I still can't dance. Not in a thousand years."
Hiccup chuckled, laying a hand across her shoulder. "I'm only kidding, milady. Still though, those skálds put up a great performance."
And true to the word, they did. Upon finishing their tune, hundreds of people both inside and outside of the great hall let out a massive applause, cheering for the four minstrels as they all gave a polite bow to their hearty audience.
From there, the vikings, elves, and dwarves continued their feast, yet the skálds continued on with their music, singing and playing into the ambience.
"Ah!" sighed Beldrak near the corner of the table. "Now that is a tune worth playin' in the halls o' Dalgard! Once all's settled and done, I think I'm goin' tae drink till I'm smashed!"
"Really?" asked Valara, gazing down at the dwarf with her glowing, light blue eyes. "I thought you dwarves could drink more than a dozen ales and still be sober, yet you wish to save the challenge until you get there… rather than doing it here like a real dwarf?"
Valara spoke those words aloud, and from the high-table and the tables nearby, dozens of voices oohed out, especially from the elves and dwarves. To that, Beldrak slammed his fist against the table.
"Is that a challenge, light elf!?" he suddenly called out, drawing attention from a few more tables nearby. "Yer people don't even drink ale! They drink wine! But I bet ye've never drunken liquor in yer life!"
Once again, voices from the nearby tables oohed out in unison, this time louder, to which Valara lowered her brows in embarrassment. "What are you talking about!? I've drunk wine before! Two large bottles at most!"
"Two large bottles!?" laughed the dwarven thane. "HAH! That's pathetic! I bet ye couldn't drink ale fer the sake o' yer life!"
"I bet I can prove you wrong, oaf," replied the ranger-captain.
In that moment, eyes were widened, and jaws were dropped. All gazes fell upon Beldrak, who glared back at Valara with his arms crossed. It appeared as if he were about to let out a violent tantrum upon the elf…
...But instead, he let out a loud, booming laugh that nearly shook the entire high-table. "Is that so, eh? Then how about a drinking game? Last one standing wins, and ye know well who is going tae win!"
"...Very well, then," nodded Valara. "I accept your drinking game... Let's get the ales out!"
"Hah! That's the spirit, lass!"
Cheers filled the great hall, mostly from the elves and dwarves, and as Valara and Beldrak stood, they made their way to an open table near the center of the hall, from which they would begin their game.
"Those two are crazy," chuckled Olof, sipping at his mead.
"I think it's astonishing," said Fishlegs. "Who knew dwarves and elves could actually be this friendly with one another."
"Aye," nodded Brann, leaning back against his chair. "Throughout my travels in Midgard, I've heard stories that the elves and dwarves never got along, with both races being stubborn in their own manner. Yet this goes to show that it need not be so."
"Weeell, the same could be said for another group we know," said Ruffnut. "I mean- they're just so-"
"Ruffnut!" interrupted Hiccup.
The young viking's words however were quite quick to catch Brann's eyes. The man tossed a glance at her, and then towards Hiccup as he raised a questioning brow. "Did she just say another group? What does she mean by that? ...Hiccup, you do not have another army heading this way to Halholm, do you? Mind telling me what this whole march is about?"
The lad responded with nothing for a moment, but let out a sigh, realizing that too much had been said. Brann expressed no anger, but he stared at Hiccup with a curious yet slightly uncomfortable look about his face, and as the lad looked back at Astrid, he said in a low voice, "Damn Ruffnut... Astrid, do you think we should tell him what's going on?"
"Hmph. We might as well," she said, giving him a nod. "I understand you don't want to worry anyone here, but I think it's for the best that he knows why we're traveling to Dalgard. There's no hiding it now."
"So be it," replied Hiccup, as his gaze then fell back upon Brann. "No, we don't, but- can we find a place to talk in private? There's something you need to know, and once I tell you everything, it'll all make sense as to why we're marching to begin with."
…
Hiccup and Brann stood alone on a balcony at the top of the great hall, from which they could see the whole village, as well as the entire valley, with the setting sun piercing through the clouds and falling snow as it shined onto the landscape.
The young viking spent for what felt like hours explaining his story and journey to Brann; from the coming of the orcs, to the murder of his father at the hands of the Dark Legions. From the formation of the Alliance of Midgard, to the battles he raged through across Valnr, while gaining new allies along the way.
But now, one of the largest battles laid ahead.
"I see…" sighed Brann, leaning over the wooden railing of the balcony. "So you spent all this time, here on Valnr, struggling against a great enemy that threatens all. An enemy my people never knew about, save for trolls and a few green-eyed goblins…"
"Yes," responded Hiccup. "The dwarven king who resides in Dalgard, King Kharinz, has an unknown illness, and has grown weak because of it. But at the same time, a vast army is marching for the city, led by the man who killed my father."
"And how many of these… orcs and other foul things follow him?" questioned Brann.
"Fifty thousand," said Hiccup.
It was then that Brann came to a sudden pause. He began staring off in the distance, almost as if he were now gathering his thoughts. The emotion that the buff viking expressed on his face was that of concern, though there was not a sign of panic or shock. Yet to that, Hiccup wondered if he had said too much.
Once again, Brann let out a sigh. "You're not just marching to Dalgard for the sake of the dwarven king; you're also marching to war."
"Yes," the younger viking replied. "And like I said earlier, we are not alone. The elves of Nordell and the Alsworn vikings are assembling their forces, and the Alliance of Midgard, along with the votun from Votunheim, should be marching north by now… alongside the hundreds of dragons that are flying with them."
"Yet are you aware that their aid might not bring you victory?" asked Brann. "Tens of thousands of brave warriors follow you, but your victories were brought because of you and your friends in particular, Wing of Midgard."
Hiccup rose a brow, tossing a questioning glance towards Brann. "What are you trying to say here? That only my friends and I, the Wings of Midgard, can truly win this battle? That's outrageous. How can the six of us, alone, fight off an army of fifty thousand? Plus, Heather isn't a-"
"I know- but you mistake my words, lad," interrupted Brann, as he spun to face Hiccup. "Ask yourself this; was it not you who took down this votun you called Bjornar at the pass of Votunheim, along with his legion of thousands? Was it not you and your Wings of Midgard who defeated the orc named Golrok at the siege of Nordell? You said yourself that he was the very right hand of the warlord who now marches towards Khaz'dalgard."
"...What are you trying to say here?" asked Hiccup.
Brann now smiled, kneeling down to his level as he placed both of his large hands on the lad's shoulders. "Sometimes, the best way to win a battle is not to fight the herd, even if the odds are against you, and even if you devastate the herd itself. Those were a few wise words that my father told me when I was a boy, and now, I pass them on to you… Some may tell you that you can't defeat a certain foe, but truth be told, you're stronger than you think you are, Hiccup, and my mind says so."
The older viking gave Hiccup a pat as he stood back up to his feet, turning his gaze back towards the view of the valley. His words all the while echoed through the lad's mind like waves. Hiccup had been told time and time again by others that he was not yet strong enough for the challenges that laid ahead. And now, here was a legendary viking, of whom those same people sang of, telling him otherwise; telling him that he was ready. To that, Hiccup smiled, giving off a grin that resonated with a newfound hope that he had not felt in a while.
The lad then turned, proceeding to look on with Brann at Halholm's valley, and in that moment, a cool breeze blew against his face; one that was fresh and relieving.
And for a while, they stayed as such.
"...So," eventually said Hiccup. "Should we go back inside? It's getting kinda late."
"Aye," he nodded. "Tomorrow you will take the northern path which leads out of the valley. It'll make your march to Khaz'dalgard much shorter, but we'll resupply you just in case. After all, good food means good stomach…"
"...Now, let us head in. It's been a long day."