Life is a gamble, at terrible odds - if it was a bet you wouldn't take it. - Tom Stoppard

~O~

What Were The Odds Of That?

~O~

"Teach me how tae handle those beasts," she said simply.

He shook his head. "Wait, wait, wait. You are asking me to teach you?"

"Did ah look like ah was talkin' tae yer dragon?"

Hiccup rolled his eyes. He remained wary of his assertion that they could work towards a settled agreement. "You can't be serious about this. It isn't easy to handle dragons. They're very unpredictable, violent, and dangerous..."

Merida raised an eyebrow. "Ah think they sound like fun." At this point, Hiccup couldn't tell if this girl was either very brave, or very stupid. Or maybe just a jarring mix of both.

"Look…uh...ah...hmm...hold up just a second, there. I never did get your name," he told her.

"Stop," she spat. "No names. Keeps us from get'in tae familiar."

"Okay, so what can I call you?"

With a tight smile, she said. "Ye decide,"

He looked at her hair. "How about, curls—"

"No."

"Bow?"

"That's ridiculous."

"Red?"

"Give me one more gammy name and ah won't hesitate tae shoot ye."

"Jeeze," Hiccup scoffed as he took a few steps back. He scratched his chin with his thumb, trying to think of a decent title to label this hotheaded female.

"How about…Arrow?" Merida widened her eyes. "Just a thought!" He added hurriedly when he saw her blunt reaction.

"Nae, that's actually grand!" She raised her arms upward in delight. "Arrow it is, then."

"Hmm, how about ye? Le' me think of somethin' splendid as well," Merida tapped her bottom lip with her finger while looking at Hiccup from head to toe. He was brimming with curiosity by the look on his face.

"Helmet?" Merida turned to Hiccup, who slunk his shoulders down. Not as great as Arrow, he thought. But even if he really wanted to change it, he didn't want to because for women like Merida, insulting, was not a good idea.

"I like it. It's very…unique." He said in a dry voice, yet glee was roughly blended with it. From behind, Toothless snorted, as if ridiculing the name. Angus flicked his ears back and forth as he listened absentmindedly to their conversation.

"Ah thought so, too," she told him, a bit proud with having thought of it. Besides, it was the thing that got him here in the first place, wasn't it? So it was just the perfect nickname for him. "We go' off in a bit of a rough start. Introduce ourselves again, shall we?"

Merida approached the Viking, and swept herself in a low curtsy. "Ah am Arrow of Dunbroch, pleased to meet yer acquaintance, good sir. And Ah think it's high time tha' Ah finally thank ye for saving my life at least twice in two days."

"Don't mention it," he relied icily. Really, don't. Because I've been regretting that, he thought.

Merida placed her hands on her hips. "Yer turn."

Hiccup awkwardly bended over with his left hand over his chest, uncertain of how to proceed. "Helmet of Berk, pleased to meet your acquaintance as well, er, missus."

He earned himself a frown from Merida. Toothless snickered, much to the dismay of Hiccup.

"How'd I do?" He said with a quirk in his lips that might have been a smile, or a grimace. He shot his head around to face his dragon with a death glare. "Shut up, reptile." The dragon reeled back his boisterous lark and growled at Hiccup.

"Then it's time ye finally do. Yer in Scotland now. No more of all…this"

"But you just gestured to all of me." Merida shrugged her shoulders in response. To her chagrin, he was speaking softly, and unexpectedly kind, with none of the Viking traits to which she has ever been familiar with.

She pursed her lips, nodding slightly. "Just, no funny business. Ah might be givin' ye a chance, but if ah see threat, things could end worse."

"Really, huh? You…you think I'm threatening?" He asked. "You don't think I'm scrawny?"

"Nae a' all. Ah wouldn't say yer scrawny, but erm…well ye are, but ah wouldn't say it."

Hiccup gave her a measured look, "Thanks, I think."

"So when dae we start this dragon training?" She asked.

He shrugged. "I probably won't have anything on my hands for the next couple of weeks."

"We start tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, it is." Hiccup shrugged again.

Merida noticed it this time. "There ye go again. Why dae ye keep shrugging, shrugger? It's driving me bonkers." Before Hiccup could do the same irritating gesture, Merida shot him dagger glares.

The sun was already beginning to disappear from the peak of the horizon. The warmth of Hiccup's green eyes broke through her nerves, drawing a question from her she'd been trying to ignore. "Where will ye bide?"

"I'll find some shelter." He told her.

"Nae, tha' won't be necessary," she started. "As a simple thank ye fer savin' my life, why not bide at my place?"

He shook his head. "I appreciate that, but I like to earn what I get."

Merida frowned. "Aye, but ah'm afraid yer gallantry for the past hour has already paid tha' cost."

"Look, as much as I want to come, I can't leave Toothless alone. He can't make it out on his own without me," he explained. "And I don't think your family is passable with the idea of having dragons in their country. Our plan, remember?"

"Ah see," she did remember how her mother, Elinor, was not very fond of pets, let alone a dragon. "Will ye be a'right ewt here?"

"Yeah, I'll just have to find a place where Toothless can stay unseen."

"Try the caves down there," Merida pointed toward dark hidden crags underneath the gorge. "It's no' much, but it's enough to keep yer dragon dry."

Hiccup nodded. "Thanks,"

"Sae, ah'll be comin' by any day of the week," she told him as she walked away to mount Angus. "By the lake?" She swung herself on the saddle and tightened her grip on the bridles.

"I'll be here…" he said before Merida yanked on the reins and set off towards the other side of the forest. "Maybe."

She didn't notice it was sundown until darkness loomed over her head and trees emitted drones of insect whirring in sync. She and Angus wove through the pines, occasional twisting yet leading steadily uphill towards the castle. The dark steed slackened his gait from a canter to a trot when they reached a clearing. All this while, Merida was quite satisfied none of the suitors have found her and imagined the courtyard bristling in anxiety for her arrival. It was just what she needed to show everyone that she wasn't a damsel in distress.

Hurriedly, she passed through the gates with a waggish sneer, anxious to see the looks of the suitors humiliated in front of her.

What she noticed was unexpected. There was a huge gathering in the middle of the courtyard, and there were frightened gasps of women and curses muttered by men.

Merida dismounted Angus, and pushed her way inside the circle. As soon as she reached the middle, she gasped and covered her mouth. Young Macintosh was bleeding terribly. He put a hand over his thigh where the source of the blood seemed to seep through. Blood surged in between his fingers and his kilt was stained in dark, burnt streaks.

"Out of my way!" Lord Macintosh pulled a few men blocking him and knelt down beside his son.

"Malcolm, speak to me, lad!" Malcolm coughed a few times, spitting blood boring in his mouth. "Are ye a'right, son?"

Malcolm gave him a pained smile. "Never better."

"What happened, lad? Can ye still remember?" His father asked him.

Malcolm slowly closed his eyes.

At this, Lord Macintosh gasped and began to panic. "Don't die on me, son! Wake up!"

"Relax, ye woman. Ah was just thinking." He spat. He turned towards the other lords, his vision a bit vague, but his memory was without a doubt, crystal clear.

"Somethin' attacked me in the woods. It was a flash of orange an' white, an' it had huge horns an' wings and…" he paused. "Ah could have sworn it breathed fire."

There was an unbearable space of silence, but Lord Dingwall, who was standing there all the while, it was just that nobody could see him with his height, began to laugh. Hard. And hysterically so.

"It seems the poor lad had gotten the knocking on his noggin a wee bi' harder than we thought," he grabbed hold of his chest to keep himself from collapsing. Wee Dachlan Dingwall began to laugh hysterically as well. McGuffin joined in, along with his son, Gavin McGuffin, and soon, the whole courtyard was bustling with people chuckling to one another and whispers of 'Gone mad, that laddie has,"

"Come, now, Malcolm. Ah'm sure it was just a bear." Macintosh told his son. "Ye expect me tae believe ye saw a dragon?"

"Ah know wha' ah saw father. Ah can't believe even ye won't believe ah word ah say."

"Yer being ridiculous, lad. Man up. Fairytales are for children." He stood up and walked away to find healers and such.

"Bu' it wasnae!" He shouted but his father turned deaf ears on him. Merida stepped closer to Malcolm, who wore a bitter grimace because of the people making fun of what he saw.

"Gae on, princess. Make fun like the lot of them," he scoffed.

"Nae, nae ah won't," she murmured. Malcolm was surprised she took him seriously. "Breath fire, ye say?"

He nodded. "Aye, an' very nasty. It nearly burned me leg off."

"We'll get it patched up as soon as possible." Merida told him before letting a few soldiers step in her way and place him in a stretcher. He hissed at every muscle he moved. His other leg was still in one piece but burned. His skin was crisp on the edges and bruised terribly.

"Wha' did ye say it looked like?" Merida asked, miffed she was taking his side because she was the only one knew that he was telling the truth.

Malcolm ignored the pain for a moment as he brushed the hands of the healers away. "It had two curved horns on the sides of its head. It's neck was sae long and it's span wider than our pastures or fields. It was unlike any ah've ever seen. It was sae massive,"

"If it was that massive, isnae it impossible than none of us saw it?"

"Ah'm not so sure either. But wha' was far more disturbing, was after scorching me leg, it didn't finish me off. It waited till ah was nearly a half dead goose. It was as if it only attacked me tae scald me," It seemed very suspicious, indeed. Why in the world would a creature attack for pleasure? Usually, they'd attack for food or survival. But this case was different. "It dinnae want food. It wanted me." Malcolm finished.

Merida had enough of unusual. In fact, she was getting sick of being bombarded with oddities all in one day. "Ye should get tae the castle. The wounds are not going tae heal itself." At the intervals of her mind, she kept thinking how there were more of those things besides Toothless. She couldn't help but shudder at the thought. Quickly, she walked beside the people hurrying towards the castle with the blistered young suitor.

She looked back. The forest stood in its giant hulky shape, looming over fields and pastures owned by her kingdom and worked by servants. Something bigger existed. Something different from everything she was told of.

Merida doubted what she encountered in the woods really happened. But the pattering of her heart, the soreness in her back, and her missing bow reminded her that all was in fact, true. Was she really given a way to change her fate? She couldn't turn back now. She had waited for this opportunity.

Everything was going to change the way she wants it to. Her pulse rippled with anticipation as the doors closed behind her.

Still, that night, the Grand Hall was bursting in protests, shouts and insults. There were cacophonies of uncontrollable mirth, and shrieks of denial voiced by outraged lords arguing as to who shall have the honor of hunting down the beast. Elinor cupped her face in irritation.

"Where is Merida? She should have been here an hour ago." But the other lords' nitpicking at each other drowned the sound of her complaints to her husband, who grew purpled at each chortling noise the crowd made. "Fergus, will ye please settle their ridiculous rammy?"

"MY son shall kill the beasts, ye grumpy old trolls." Macintosh yelled at them.

"It's a shame YER son is getting' fitted for angel wings, now is he?" Dingwall chuckled, flapping his elbows to mimic said angel.

Lord McGuffin raised his voice. "MY son is the only one who can kill the beast. He scuttled the Viking warships, and with his bare hands, vanquished two thousand foes!"

"MY son vanquished ten thousand foes!" Dingwall shouted.

"LIAR."

"WIMP."

"BAMPOT."

"SHUT IT, ye bloomin' idiots!" Fergus roared after gathering all the energy he had left for screaming. "We're civilized people havin' a civilized meeting. We are not like those barbaric Vikings, ye understand? Now, show a little decorum!"

He sat down in his throne, frustrated, and raised his arm towards the people huddled in the hall. "Leave us be. We sort ewt this problem alone." The people sighed, and went out of the room reluctantly, leaving the lords, the King and Queen to talk privately about the matter. The young suitors (excluding Malcolm) were already passed out somewhere inside the castle because of their exhaustion in searching for Merida. Watching the people ebb from the room, Elinor caught sight of Merida shoving her way towards her throne.

"Merida, where were ye? It isn't safe to gae ewt anymore with the beast somewhere in our woods."

"Ah helped the nurses in aiding Malcolm. Tha' wee lad kept fidgeting and wouldn't stop screaming like a woman," Merida laughed, and through a peripheral glance, Macintosh glared in annoyance. Elinor sighed as her daughter marched up towards her throne just beside Fergus.

"A 'right, where were we? Ah yes, there is the matter of the loose beast. Ah'm afraid all further activities shall be discreet fer now."

Dingwall abruptly turned his gaze towards the Royal Family. "What abewt the second challenge?"

"We'll have to postpone it, milord." Elinor told him disappointingly. "Until young Malcolm is in better condition and the beast has been captured and gotten rid of."

The King slunk back in his chair and thought about this for a moment. Second Challenge? Terrifying beast? What were the odds of that entire thing happening in a coincidental time frame? He suddenly got himself an idea. "Elinor, dear, we may not have tae kill it."

His wife looked at him as if she was looking at some lunatic. "Are ye mad, Fergus? The boy was almost killed!"

"We'll have the beast in chains and get the suitors to slay it. Imagine what those Vikings would think if we capture it and have them realize they were done by the youth of our country. They'd be terrified of us!"

"Ah don't know, Fergus. It's nae safe."

"That's a grand idea, my King!" Macintosh said. Of course, after being embarrassed by the fact that his son was almost torched, he thought the best way to earn his son's respected title back was by slaying the beast. The other lords nodded in agreement thinking what a relish it would be to have their son kill a very formidable beast.

Elinor still thought it was very dangerous, but then again, these men were mad. They could kill beasts a hundred times their size if they wanted to. "Ye decide, Fergus. Just make sure those chains are locked up tight."

"Yer a darlin', my wee lass!" He said happily as he tried to give her thank you kiss. Elinor rolled her eyes and brushed him away in embarrassment. "We'll send scouts to scour every perimeter of the forest until this beast is found. And then shall the suitors have the privilege of killin' it!"

"Wait!" Merida nearly stood up from her seat. What if they found Helmet and Toothless in their search? It would ruin her plans. "Ah'll go help find the beast."

Elinor stood up. "Merida, its tae dangerous! Ah forbid it."

"Nae, mum. Ah think ah know where tha' beast went. Ah saw something on my way 'ere—"

"Which way, lass? Tell us now!" McGuffin demanded. As far as Merida was concerned, everything happened in North East, just on Gairn Loch.

"West! South West!" she lied, hoping misdirection would buy her more time.

"A'right, tehn! We lords shall scour the West!" Dingwall raised his arm in pride. "An' we shall find this beast!"

Fergus laughed. "Tha' won't be necessary, boys. We'll be appointing our two new most seasoned knights for this job."

"Wossat?" The Lords scrambled down from the table they proclaimed their victory rock. "An' oo' are they?"

The King smiled and looked at the lords with an impish fluke. "Bring in the Gutspill Brothers!"

Dingwall cackled to the other lords. "Gu'spill brothers, wha' is tha', some kind of wee babbie's name, har har ha—"

His voice was cut off mid chuckle when a sword brushed on the underside of his chin. "You do know what gut spilling means? Don't you?" A man sneered haughtily, in a not very Scottish accent. "It means if I go any further than to where this polished blade is dying to go, it means I can slide this down, " Dingwall gulped as the blade grazed down to his chest, not hard enough to puncture his skin, but firm enough to leave a thin red trail. "And all those long, nasty things that keep you little vermin alive, will be sallying its body in a bloody red cascade down the floor—"

"Dagur, how many times have I told you we don't threaten allies?" His brother told him. Dagur didn't realize he was gripping Dingwall's collar and was already lifting him a few feet from the ground. He immediately dropped him to the floor, although there was evidence of an unregretful smirk plastered to his face.

"I'm sorry. He looked more like an animal to me, Rugad." Dagur told him as he wiped his hands Dingwall-free.

Fergus stood up and extended his arms. "Dagur the Deranged and Rugad the Ruthless. Wha' a pleasure it is tae see ye again."

"'Oo are these people, Fergus?" Macintosh interrupted. "They smell like barbarians tae me." He noticed Dagur also had blue paint slashed over his cheek as if three talons clawed them.

"We hail from the lowlands, milord." Rugad told him. His face was quite similar to his brother Dagur, but he seemed much more sane and more civilized. They both wore chain suits embroidered in leather vests and weapons were shackled to their backs in a crossed position. So wound up were they in armaments, they would have needed eight limbs to use them all at once.

Dagur walked up to Merida and bent over in a mock bow. "The pleasure is all mine, my princess." He took her hand, and gently kissed her knuckles. Merida rolled her eyes.

"Hmph, peasants." McGuffin huffed.

"Grandees, enough!" Elinor commanded, which was enough to snap silence into the manor. "Dagur and Rugad are two of our best warriors. They are a new addition tae our army since three seasons ago when we were attacked by bears, and they came tae our rescue."

Dagur looked poised as he walked down. "Of course we did. Bears are most easy to kill when their flanks are unguarded. My brother and I were on the verge of losing to this bear an-"

Dingwall coughed to interrupt him. "Ah'm sure the Queen would rather hear stories abewt myself."

"Oh do tell…" Dagur pretended to be eager. "I fancy tragedies."

"Dagur, that's enough." Rugad reprimanded him, to which his brother only responded with a very stiff nod. Rugad turned to the Queen and bowed earnestly. "Why have you summoned us, your Majesties?"

"There's a loose beast in our forest. Young Malcolm claims it rampant and hefty with a very large wingspan and the aid of fire it breathes. His proposals all claim it to be a new breed in our motherland. We've never heard of such an animal."

Dagur the Deranged took out his sword. "Rest assured, my Queen, we will hunt that beast down for you, and especially for the honor of the princess," he smirked at Merida, who merely responded with a harsh glower. "But," he turned around in a downcast gaze. "We are in need of the finest weapons we can find."

Fergus brightened up. "Nae worries, lad. We'll get ye our finest smithies and our most polished blades. Every scalpel, dagger and axe of every size are yers."

"Oh we don't want just any Scottish sword. They must be trimmed, finessed and skimmed in foreign techniques," he told them.

"Foreign? Ah've never heard of such ridiculous methods." The King laughed.

MacGuffin intercepted. "Our Scottish smithies and craftsmen are among the finest in the land. We are not in need of outlandish practices."

"Aye," Macintosh agreed.

"Well we are fighting foreign creatures, so it is probably wise to adjust our tactics in order for us to win," Rugad added. Both Elinor and Fergus looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

"Wha' are ye suggestin', Rugad?"

"All I'm saying is, we need a man of unique abilities. Different plans of craft. Different ways of fashioning a blade. Different from the usual Scottish smithy. A man who has experiences overseas, seen distinctive skills and profound at killing these types of animals."

"Outrageous!"

"Well has any one of you lot ever tried killing an animal of flight? Birds and games, I suppose but what about hundred foot target you all are aiming for?" There was silence in response. Dagur took that as a no.

"Wha' dae ye propose we dae?" Elinor asked.

"Gather all the finest blacksmiths in your country. I will accept the best, and only the best shall have the honor of building my blades. Make announcements. Send out flyers if you have to." He ordered.

Rugad stepped up. "All men capable of making weapons shall present to me their best works, and I shall declare which lad will have this glorious fortune."

"Why not just craft yer own blades?" Dingwall protested.

"I have another task at hand, remember?" He replied with a sneer. Dingwall's forehead scrunched in a furious dander.

Thinking all was settled, Fergus glared at an emissary taking down notes during their discussion. "Well, git on with it! Do what this man told ye! We hinnae got all day!" The emissary nearly dropped his scroll in the sudden outburst of the king. "And add a hundred pounds reward tae encourage those munts!"

The emissary quickly obeyed. He scrambled outside with the scroll dangling in his arms and ran to climb the stairs above the courtyard that was still occupied by alert villagers in case the beast should attack again. The road had been choked with pilgrims and travellers making their way towards cathedrals to beseech for safety.

"Attention! Attention!" He called out. Upon seeing that a number of people had taken their time to listen to his announcement, he rolled down the scroll and read aloud. "The King and Queen of Dunbroch has requested all working blacksmiths in the land to present their finest blades in the honor of fashioning weapons for the defense of our solitary fortress. Only the utmost shall have the privilege to craft the blades of the Royal Family and become a part of the Royal Staff," a few people shook their heads, thinking it would be a waste of time.

"And a hundred pounds of reward shall be given to the winner." The emissary quickly added. All of a sudden, hands jutted upward and there were frantic calls of men dying to sign up. A hundred pounds was enough to buy an entire flock of sheep and cows or even three working horses. The emissary smiled in satisfaction. "The deadline of presentation shall be in three days. Everyone is welcome to participate and—"

He gasped when a strong gust of wind struck him, flapping his loose clothes. Suddenly, it ripped the middle part of the scroll, which coincidentally, had all the necessary information. What were the odds of that?

The stripped paper rode the swells in the occasional rise and fall of the breeze along mossy turfs and eventually away from the vicinity of the castle.

"Rats," he stomped his foot while watching the paper flap its jagged edges as it succumbed to the crooks and crannies of the forest.

Toothless barfed up a haddock in front of Hiccup, who was shivering quite so in the cave. He stared at the half eaten fish all dribbled with dragon saliva. "No thanks bud. I-I-I'm not hungry." Toothless noticed his rider's stuttering so he flattened out one of his wings and enveloped his rider in a thick leather blanket. "Thanks, bud. It's just, oh gods, I really hate these skirts." Hiccup said, hoping his upright jollity would help him ignore the freezing atmosphere.

"How am I going to find a living around here Toothless? I can't spend a month here hiding in the gorge and eating dragon barfed fish." He asked his dragon as if it could reply. But Toothless was far too busy munching on his bountiful catch of salmon and brown trout.

"You're right," Hiccup said, pretending to interpret his dragon's ignorance. "I'll just stick here and find another way. I mean what was I thinking? A job was going to fall out from the sky?"

The minute he finished his sentence, he was surprised to catch sight of a paper pierced in the branches of white decaying trunks. The paper flapped vigorously against the tempest. Slowly, he got up and yanked the paper from the branch.

"Now, what were the odds of that?" Hiccup grinned before scanning the paper and reading it with much difficulty since he could only understand runic. But he did study the gaelic alphabet before his trip, so he could understand even just a little.

From what he had gathered, there was a competition to be part of the Royal Staff and earn one thousand pounds. Although, he wasn't sure what a thousand pounds were worth because in Berk, they usually just trade cattle and chickens. But to be part of royalty's domain, fine luxury living, and shelter, not to mention how much easier prying into Scotland's people will be if he got that job, that meant something. Besides, he does know everything about smithy because of Gobber and because of always trying to improve Toothless' tail. There were lots of secrets and techniques to it that only he and Gobber knew.

"I can't believe it. It's a sign from Odin, bud. I mean, it's got to be. Here I am looking for a job and suddenly this thing comes along at exactly the same time," He laughed in amusement, before glancing at the casket attached to the back of Toothless. "Now, did we bring that sword I forged last week in Berk?"

A/N: hah! The longest chapter ever! And now, it is officially the start of the story, with no more Brave plot hanging along the way.

For the girl (I'm assuming you're a girl, I find shippers to be a majority of females) who asked about the Tangled Reference: Yes, it was a Tangled Reference. I am including a wide variety of movies in this story and I shall incorporate them for Mericcup tensions.

So Dagur the Deranged (from Riders of Berk TV series) has a brother in this fanfiction, Rugad the Ruthless. Here in this chapter, Dagur can be seen taking quite a liking to Merida, which you can expect to later build up on the Mericcup conflict (calm down, fangirls, breathe)

I don't know, I guess I interpret Dagur as an ego maniac guy who thinks he can capture all the pretty girls since he's chief of his tribe. In case you're wondering, he and his brother are helping out the Scottish people for reasons that shall be enclosed in the future chapters.

Your thoughts? What kind of dragon was the 'beast' they were all talking about? Winner gets pizza.

-DawnD

(Happy Belated Birthday tae me *throws confetti around*)