Hello again. This chapter spans the lives of Valka and Stoick, from their early childhood to their young adulthood. Along with their friends and family, they learn about each other and the world around them, growing closer as the years pass. This chapter contains references to the television series as well as the second movie. Posting this chapter 8-11-2014. Next chapter to be posted in 4-5 days. Thank you and please enjoy.

…

An excited smile spread on five-year old Valka's face as she opened the front door of her house to the white world around her. Winters on Berk were brutal and felt as though frostbite was spreading onto your spleen, but to young Valka, the cold and snow made her think of new beginnings. She took a deep inhale of the frigid air, and slowly exhaled a puff of warm smoke over her fingertips.

She was already dressed for the cold, wearing her cerulean long-sleeved tunic with a bright red belt over her waistline. Her dark leggings hug snuggly to her thin legs and a hooded fawn colored deer pelt vest draped over her small body. Her brown boots step out to the thick layer of snow on the front steps as she turns around and called into the house.

"It's beautiful, Grandpa!" she smiled as her grandfather paced towards the edge of the doorway.

"It sure is, dear. Remember, don't be disappointed if they tell you 'no'. Be nice and try to have fun," her grandfather leaned down, adjusting her hood.

"I'll try," she promised before swiftly running down the steps to the square, where she passed busy men and women as they went about their daily lives on the Isle of Berk.

For six generations, it has stood proudly as the jewel of the Archipelago and home to the Hairy Hooligan tribe. The people who grew here were tough and tasteless, much like the food, and held a long and honored history of dragon killing. Over two hundred years ago, the first Vikings came here from the mainland in search of the dragons nest and liberation, now Berk is a thriving community with various activities like hunting and fishing. Speaking of fishing, she was going to be late…

"Wait!" she called out running to the docks.

In a small ship, three young Viking boys turned their heads over, looking at the tiny girl racing towards their vessel.

"Oh no, not her," Gobber groaned loudly, leaning his body over the boat, rocking it slightly.

"What're ya doin' 'ere, Val?" a tall raven wavy haired boy by the name of Alvin asked out as she approached.

"Well, you said I could join you guys for fishing if I woke up early," she excitingly bounced.

"You told her what!?" Gobber pushed himself off the side, causing the vessel to wobble more.

"Val, ya can't join us, it's too dangerous," her elder brother pled, tugging at the ropes to detach the boat from the pier.

"But you promised!" Valka stomped her right boot, fisting her palms and puffing her cheeks.

Alvin pressed his index finger and thumb over his temple, sighing heavily as he tried to think of something to tell her.

"I've got this," Gobber pushed Alvin to the side, placing his right leg on the side of the boat. "You can join us, once you've grown yourself a beard." He smirked, feeling impressed with himself.

"But that's not fair, Gobber, I'm a girl!" Valka crossed her arms in discontent.

"Those are the rules. No beard, no fishing," he pulled his leg off the side and back to the floor of the ship.

"Stoick doesn't have a beard and he's going. None of you have beards!" she pointed out accusingly to all of them.

Stoick merely coughed onto his palm awkwardly. It was true that at five, he didn't have a beard; neither did his two friends, Alvin, seven and Gobber, ten.

Frustrated, she mumbled under her breath before turning around and heading back towards the village, her long auburn tress bouncing with every stomp.

"You know, we had room for her on the boat," Stoick spoke, seeing her march off in a huff.

Alvin exasperated as he sat to row the paddles beside him. "I know, but I'm afraid that once she's got a taste fer adventure, she won't want to come back to shore."

"Besides, she's small and scrawny, she'll be an easy target for sea dragons out here," Gobber added acting as helmsman.

Once at a desirable spot, they dropped anchor and took out their fishing poles, all the while Stoick thinking about how cute Valka looked with her red cheeks puffed out, ready and wanting for a piece of exploration.

…

"Stupid boys," Valka grumbled, picking out books from the bookshelves she shared with her grandfather and brother, which to be honest was her only comfort and joy around. She wished they had more books about, but Vikings weren't really big readers and finding them in trade was rare. "I'll show them… I'll grow the biggest and greatest beard of all."

Rummaging through the small pile of books, she pulled out one of her favorites her grandfather often read to her and Alvin before they went to sleep. The cover was a dulled red and the pages were slightly bent at the ends, but thankfully the text hadn't faded considering how old the hardcover was. It was a volume describing the epic adventures of a young warrior as he valiantly fought his way through trials, ferocious beasts, claiming treasures and rescuing everyone he came in contact with. He was very wise but also very brave.

Valka would often dream of herself as the brave warrior, fighting off hordes of pirates and solving puzzles to lost riches and being asked and wanted to go on fishing trips with others. She hated that about living on Berk, everyone treated her like she couldn't do anything. Even her own brother would refuse her of doing things. If she was more like the hero in her stories, she'd be the greatest champion of all time. For now, it was only a fairy tale in her mind.

Secretly, her favorite page of the story showed an image of the hero, face to face with a giant dragon. Instead of killing it, he managed to speak to it and asking it to leave the poor people of the land alone and seeing how brave he was for standing up to it, the dragon left in peace. Valka sometimes wondered if the people of Berk could do the same, if maybe they'd simply ask the dragons to stop stealing their food and livestock, that things would be easier and more peaceful for the village. Something like that was probably impossible, Vikings were quite stubborn, usually resorting to violence to solve their problems.

Closing her eyes, Valka wished her hardest for peace to come one day and that she'd help both out and maybe be seen as a heroic figure.

"That'd be great," she whispered to herself with a smile. "But first I gotta grow that beard."

…

As the years passed, Valka would try to advocate peace and understanding between dragons and Vikings, mostly getting snide remarks and demeaning laughter from others. She'd even get teased by Spitelout Jorgenson who nicknamed her 'the Peacekeeper' out of well, spite.

On a bright summer afternoon, the villagers of Berk gathered around in the Great Hall, formulating different ideas on how to rid the beasts.

"I say we set up some traps in the forest," Gobber in the second row raised out as the chief heard his peoples suggestions.

"An excellent idea. Anyone else?" he asked looking around, pointing a finger to the crowd.

A small hand in the back raised, the chief pointing to it to acknowledge the person's presence.

Ten year old Valka stood on her seat and spoke with a confident voice. "I'd like to suggest we place tall posts around the village. At night they could function as lanterns for us to see once the sun sets," she pressed her palms together as she looked to the crowd whose gaze were on her.

Many nodded to the proposal, some thinking she'd talk about some crazy idea to…

"We can also place some just out-of-town and fill it with food for the dragons to take instead of having them take the food around the village."

And there it was.

"You want us to give up our food to feed the dragons!" A man with whitening brown hair lifted himself from his seat, a young lamb under his arm. "We're trying to get rid of the beasts, not invite them for dinner!"

The crowd began to snicker and laugh at his truth and her ridiculous ideas.

"That's enough, Mildew," the chief called out, causing the man to return to his seat. "Valka, if we place posts with food, it will only attract more dragons and lessen our own food supplies. I like the light post idea, but to the feeder, I'll have to decline."

Valka's cheeks reddened. It wasn't because she was told her idea was half good, it was because they laughed at her. While everyone continued, she slowly got down from her seat and made her way out the door as people began to snort as she passed by.

"So much for that, Peacekeeper, ha-ha…" Spitelout mocked as she passed him. Before getting any other remarks or laughs, his face was pressed hard by a powerful fist belonging to her brother.

No one bullied his little sister.

Walking out of the hall, a voice from behind called out to her. Turning over, she came face to face with Stoick Haddock himself. His red hair pulled back into a tight braid and his emerald eyes wide with curiosity.

"What? You've come to laugh at me too?" she pouted, her eyes a bit puffy. She already felt humiliated enough, she didn't need the son of the chief rubbing it in as well.

"No-no-no, I came to say…um," he felt at a loss of words for a moment, darting his eyes away for a second. "I think your ideas are…different, to say the least. But sometimes different is perfectly fine. I mean, at least you're trying to find ways to get the dragons to focus on other things away from the village…" he looked down to his boots, kicking the air while his hand nervously rubbed the back of his neck, his ears reddening.

Valka tilted her head slightly to his remark, a small tinge of pink appearing on her face. While at times she thought he was stoic in demeanor, there were moments when Stoick would let his walls fall and seem approachable. She liked this Stoick over the expressionless one by his father's side.

"Thanks, but everyone thinks my ideas are foolish," she held her head low.

"Well, prove them wrong," Stoick smiled.

At times he thought Valka's viewpoints were unconventional, but she still had the courage to voice them and that was what he liked about her.

The air around them spiraled as the sunlight warmed their souls. They shared in an awkward silence before their eyes met, a small beam forming on their faces.

"Are we interrupting something?" Gobber chuckled, a tooth missing from his smile.

Both mumbled and shuddered clumsily before turning to both Gobber and Alvin, he frowning with his arms crossed at the sight of his sister and best friend having…whatever that was.

"Gobber, what happened to your tooth?" Stoick squinted, looking at the gap.

He smirked wildly. "You'll never guess what happened to me during my family's vacation!"

"What? You found a sense of humor?" Valka chortled, gawking at the hole in his mouth.

"Ha-ha, very funny, Val," he laughed sarcastically. "I. SAW. SOMETHING."

They watched him as he raised his arms out for dramatic effect. "The Boneknapper!"

Alvin, Stoick and Valka gave an odd stare. "The what?" they simultaneously asked.

"A dragon, coated in an armor of bones. He was after me, because I found the greatest prize in the world," he said excitingly, lifting his shirt slightly. "Behold! My treasure!"

From his belt, a bright light shined as if the gods glowed upon him.

"Wow," Stoick looked upon it with amazement.

"It's beautiful," Alvin added, the glow brightening his eyes.

"It's a bone…" Valka dryly stated as the beam faded from Gobber's belt buckle.

"Sweet, naïve, Valka. You of little fashion sense. This here is the perfect belt buckle," he held his palm out to display the art. "See how it flawlessly holds my pants up and how it elegantly brings my garb together in both a casual and formal manner without drawing too much attention away from the entire outfit."

"This is coming from the guy who learned to swim by being tossed into the ocean," she crossed her arms in disbelief.

"And I learned fast, didn't I?"

"I think I might cry," Alvin continued to gaze at the buckle, as was Stoick.

"You boys are impossible," she walked down the stairs, leaving the boys to talk of buckles and battles.

…

"Humans, are the poisons of this world," Red Death wickedly lullabied to his flock of dragons. "Take the glorious Mist Runners for example. I've been told they were as beautiful as they were mystical. Humans killed the last of them over two hundred years ago, and for what? Their luxurious coats and everlasting tears. I was but a hatchling when my poor, weak mother was killed by them as well, rest her heart," he lied through his fangs.

There were no dragons alive from the time he was young, he either ate them off or had them kill each other in the battle arena before his presence. He enjoyed watching his possessions fight to the death for his amusement. Over the years, he managed to breed five separate generations of dragons since his reign and he thoroughly relished in the sight of his slaves mate before his eyes; telling them whatever young they brought onto the world, were his to keep and dominate.

He pressed one of his sharp claws over the face of a mature female Whispering Death, she lowered her head in fear and respect.

"I am your only salvation, your sovereign from the cruel and unjust hands of man. My island is your hatchery, your home and in time your grave. Submit to my command, and all shall live a life of contentment."

All the dragons gave out a roar of submission and reverence, they had no choice in the matter to begin with. Their destinies were set the day of their hatching.

"Long live, Death!" they sang out for his praises.

…

"A little to the left…perfect," the chief smiled as the portrait hanged complete. On the wall of the Great Hall, by the other images of the past chiefs and their sons, fourteen year old Stoick grinned as his father placed his hand over his shoulder. "I'm very proud of you, Stoick, my son. One day, you will have a picture of you and your son hanging on these very walls. It will be a glorious day, like this one…"

From the far side of the hall, the door opened slightly. From the gap, Alvin popped his head through, motioning his hand out for Stoick to follow.

"Thanks, Dad. May I go? I promised Al, Val and Gobber I'd meet them after the portrait," Stoick pointed his thumb over his should towards the exit, a slight smirk on his expression.

"Very well, a future chief never goes against his word," his father nodded in approval.

With the okay, Stoick calmly made his way towards the door and once out raced down the steps. Patiently waiting on the last steps, the three Vikings looked to him.

"How'd it go?" Valka asked, brushing her loose strands over her ear.

"Pretty well, I can't believe I'm now a part of Berk's great history," he smiled placing his hands over his side.

"Yeah, but will ya be great enough to keep it that way?" Alvin cynically alleged.

"What's that supposed to mean? Of course he will. He's Stoick," Gobber accused shoving his interchangeable arm onto his chest.

"Nothin' just makin' an observational statement," he glared to his blonde friend. "So unless you want one less limb you'll get that hammer off me chest!" Alvin puffed out his arms, his fist balled tightly.

"Why don't you make me big guy!?" Gobber bit back staring near eye level to the tall sixteen year old.

With the comment said, both proceeded to punch each other senseless, Stoick having to get in the mix to try and separate the two till a hit to his face had him join the ruckus.

"You three never learn," Valka leaned her arm onto a stone block. Upon the weight of her hand, the stone pushed itself downward. There was a sound of turners and stone rubbing against each other and from a stone tile, a rolled sheet of parchment popped out before her.

"What's this?" she pulled the paper out of the opening, the texture coarse and rigid. "Guys, look at this!" she shouted to the pile of dirt covered Vikings.

"Could it be?" Gobber raised himself up, taking the sheet from her palms. "It is…the map to Hamish the First's treasure!"

"Are ya serious?!" Alvin exclaimed, Stoick wrapped under his arm in a chokehold.

"Would I lie about this? Look the clues lead you to the treasure," he opened the sheet, riddled with illustrations and text.

Releasing Stoick, Alvin walked to the map, moving he's sister softly to the side. "What's it say?"

"Looks like a riddle," Stoick said looking to the print:

Where the land meets the sea,

In the crook of the master's knee,

That's where your search will begin.

"What does it mean?" Stoick asked, looking at the clue with confusion.

"It's obvious! Sand! To the beach!" Gobber shouted out. "We stop at the forge first to get some shovels, let's go!"

"Excuse me, but don't I get a say in this? I WAS the one who found the map!" Valka sulked as they walked away.

Turning around, they looked to her for several long seconds, Alvin speaking first. "Sis, this could be a very dangerous mission, the bravest Vikings ever have lost their lives looking fer this treasure. You stay here."

"But I can help, you know I'm good with riddles," she insisted.

"Yes, but…" he looked to her then to Stoick, then to her again. "You're very distracting," he whispered to her the last bit.

Stoick's face turned bright red to the comment. Gobber had always been keen at sensing these kind of things and lately with her hanging out with them so much, it became difficult for him to conceal his growing affections towards her. Valka was opinionated, assertive when she needed to be and had an incredible amount of valor -he'd dare say- more than any man. He couldn't deny she was also quite beautiful.

For some time, he'd been wanting to ask her out, maybe go on a private fishing trip or something but he knew Alvin was overly protective of her, especially now that Spitelout was beginning to flirt-tease with her every chance he got. True, she would be a bit of a distraction, but honestly he didn't mind.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Valka tilted her hips to the side, placing her hands to them and piercing them with her blue eyes. She knew she was smart and that she'd be of great help, but if these stubborn boys were going to make riddles of their own, they could just forget about her assisting them. "You know what, forget it. Go find the treasure, see if I care."

She stuck her dainty nose in the air and processed home, she didn't have time or pathetic for people who wouldn't appreciate her company.

"Val, wait!" lifting out an arm Stoick tried to stop her. However, Alvin wrapped his arm around his neck, stopping him with a firm pull.

"She'll be alright, Stoick. Best she goes home an' stays out of trouble, gods know we get into enough for all of us."

They dug for weeks in the sand, argued more over the remaining riddles to the point they were doing more fighting than actually hunting. By the end of a month's time, the three were up on the tallest pecks of Berk, their boots buried in the deep snow.

"THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!" Stoick shouted over into the blinding veil of sleet racing over his vision to what he believed was Alvin.

"YER THE ONE WHO SAID WE SHOULD CLIMB THE MOUNTAIN! I KNEW YA COULDN'T LED US UP TO THE TREASURE!" Alvin bellowed back, the sound of the blizzard whistling in his ears.

"IF WE HAD ALL STUCK TO THE MAP, NONE OF THIS WOULD HAVE HAPPENED!" Gobber yelled out as his blonde mustache frozen solid.

…

When Stoick woke up, the sky was copper and there was no blizzard or hail around him. He shook himself up, seeing Gobber and Alvin coming around to wake as well.

"You three never learn," a familiar voice from behind them said kindling a warm fire made by her side.

"Val… What happened?" Alvin rose, holding the side of his still aching head.

"We rescued you three muttonheads before you turned into icicles," she handed them each a mug of mead to warm them up.

"How'd you find us?" Stoick asked taking the cup from her hand.

"Bucket sensed a blizzard; had to dig Mildew out from his house and while we were there we heard you guys shouting and arguing like newborn yaks from up the mountain. Lucky for you, we made it in time, right fellas," she smiled to the two young fishermen beside her on a log.

"What happened to our toes?" Gobber looked down to his one real foot, finding several digits missing.

"Sorry about that, we only took out the frozen ones," Mulch said with a chuckle in his voice.

"You three spent so much time fighting over the stinking treasure, you've forgotten the greatest one of all. Your friendship, isn't that worth more than gold?" Bucket added.

The three looked to each other, a silence swept over them.

"I'm sorry I said you were wrong, Stoick," Alvin looked away as he said it.

"Me too, I didn't mean it when I said it was all your fault," he replied back.

Lifting his mug, Gobber proposed a toast. "To friendship."

"To friendship!" All six of them clanged their tankards together, warm smiles on their faces.

"Thanks guys, we owe you," Stoick acknowledged.

"Thank Valka. She never stopped looking, even when the storm was at its worst," Mulch corrected.

The three Viking boys looked to the thin girl, her eyes filled with bravery and hope.

After they recovered, they all spread out looking for the remaining maps to Hamish's treasure, burning them so that others wouldn't foolishly throw away their lives and friendships over trivial trinkets like material wealth.

They had the greatest treasure in the world, a peacekeeper who'd stop at nothing to protect and help them along the way.

…

It was Snoggletog. A thick layer of slush carpeted Berk along with the roofs of the houses. Last month, they were raided hard but now that winter was here, things calmed down. With the water frozen around the coastline of the island and dragon sightings so rare during the colder time of the year, everyone let out a sigh of relief to their temporary peace.

Sixteen year old Valka was growing nervous thinking about what to give Stoick for the holiday. Ever since the day she rescued them from the blizzard two years ago, she's been seeing him in a different light. Every time he'd pass by and say hello, she'd manage to bump into things and act like a total klutz. Her face would turn scarlet and her heart would flutter wildly.

She wanted to give him something that would show him she cared for him, liked him…but what?

"What seems to be troubling you, dear?" her grandfather asked seeing her lay her head down on the kitchen table.

"I…have this, friend, who wants to give something to a guy she really likes. But she doesn't know what to give him," she shyly lifted her head, pressing her index fingers together.

Her grandfather chucked softly. "Well, your 'friend' should make something from the heart, something the person would really enjoy because those are the gifts that mean more to other."

"Hmm…" she thought to what Stoick liked. She smiled brightly and lifted herself excitingly. "I got it! …I mean my 'friend's' got it. Thanks, Grandpa!"

She walked straight to the stove and began her concoction, her grandfather slowly walking away in a retreating manner. As much as he loved his granddaughter, he feared her greatly when she wanted to cook.

After some time in the kitchen, she emerged out to the streets, large jugs of freshly made frothy yaknog at hand (her own recipe of course). She was so excited with her creation, she went out handing tankards of the drink to the merry people of Berk. She even gave a serving to Spitelout and the Hofferson brothers -they refusing the gift kindly- while Jorgenson eagerly took it and regretted it immensely as his stomach began beating him up after chugging the entire thing. By his side, young Hoffersons, Finn and Vinn, just shook their heads in disbelief at their friend's incredibly idiotic actions, both already knowing what kind of cook Valka was.

"Alvin! Gobber! Try this out, I've been working on a new recipe for Snoggletog!" she cheered walking towards the two who had just returned from a hunting trip.

Alvin literally stopped in his tracks, his eyes wide with both dread and worry. "Uh, really wish I could Val, honest but I had the biggest lunch today, so…"

"I'll give it a go," Gobber said reaching out for the beverage. Alvin stayed silent as his poor friend drank from the cup, his eyes widening once the thick, lumpy liquid slid down the side of the vessel to his tongue. Violently, he spit it out, the horrible taste still on his tongue he grabbed a pile of snow and ran it over his organ to wipe it clean. "What in Odin's great name is that!?" he said pointing to the brew in the jug as if it was bewitched.

She had taken slight offense seeing him spit out her drink. "I-It's yaknog… I made it out of boiled yak's milk, mead, spices and eggs."

"Why!?" Gobber whined before looking forward to the crowd of Vikings quickly growing sick from the holiday beverage.

"I wanted to make something to give to Stoick for Snoggletog! I didn't know it would do this!" she turned to see the people she had given the drink curl to the ground, cradling their guts.

From his house, the chief exited to the mass of fallen Vikings, examining them as he passed by. "Gothi! Ready the Hall for an immediate checkup, something's gotten everyone sick."

Stoick made his way towards his friends. "What happened?"

The two men stayed quiet as tears ran down Valka's face. "This is all my fault. All because I wanted to impress you with this horrible yaknog and now I've managed to get everyone sick."

Stoick's expression softened seeing her crying face. He had never seen her cry before and he didn't like how it made his heart hurt. Looking to the jug of yaknog in her hand, he took the entire container and drank it hastily.

"Stoick! No!" she reached out as he passed out to the ground, his taste buds burning but inside he felt happy, knowing she went through the effort to make him something for the holiday.

He woke up hours later in his home, his stomach stinging slightly as he lifted himself out of bed. By the side of his bed, was Valka, her arms atop the mattress with her body to the ground. He watched as her small body raised and fell with every breath she took, the light from the candle dancing over her innocent face. She looked radiant.

She had insisted to the chief it was all her fault and that she'd do anything to make things better. As punishment, he had her promise to never make yaknog again and to nurse after Stoick till be got better, although he knew it would be a treat for her and him once he got up. He knew his son had a bit of a crush on the young girl.

Placing a large fur over her body, he lightly brushed the loose ends of hair from her face, stirring her to waken.

"You're alright," she sleepily smiled, still in dreamland.

"Never been better," he smiled back and slowly leaned down, kissing her cheek softly causing both their faces to light up bright red. "Happy Snoggletog, Val."

She buried her face onto the furs with a huge grin from ear to ear. "Happy Snoggletog, Stoick."

…

Kneeling down, Stoick waited as Gothi marked his forehead with the chief's crest, symbolizing the passing of the torch and the reign of a new leader. At eighteen, he was the youngest chief Berk had ever had and honestly he wasn't too sure how to govern over his people. After searching for the dragons nest, his father was struck with illness and passed away in his arms the night before, telling him to be the best Viking and man he could be to his people and to never lose hope.

Lifting himself up, the crowd clapped in his honor, though like him many were concerned if he could actually do it. Stoick had grown big and strong like his father, sporting a thick braided beard. He had proven himself to be an excellent dragon killer and warrior but could he also be a political figure and peacekeeper of the tribe. They weren't too sure.

Once the celebration was over, Stoick rested outside on a bench, thinking over his and the tribes future.

"Hey," a soft and familiar voice called out behind him. "You feeling well?"

He took a deep breath and confessed his worries to his girlfriend as she sat by his side. "I'm nervous, I don't know where to start or what to say to everyone. They probably think I'm not cut out for this position, I know Alvin doesn't."

Looking to the starry night sky, Valka thought to the past. "A wise person once told me if you were faced with adversity that you had to prove them wrong."

He turned to face her as she gazed into the darkness above. For years she had been advocating a potential peace between Vikings and dragons. He knew it was a big dream of hers that would probably never come true. But even with all the doubts and naysayers, she never gave up her course, even when others would call her crazy. He liked that about her, she was so kind at heart but never weak.

"Thanks, Val," he said reaching out for her soft hand. "You know, now that I'm chief, I have to continue our ancestor's legacy to destroy dragons and find the nest…"

She nodded. "That means I'm going to have to preach out for peace twice as hard," she widened her smile to him, nuzzling herself on his broad shoulder. "You're going to be a great chief, Stoick."

They both stared out into the night watching the stars fall, each making wishes for a brighter tomorrow.

…

There was a knock at the door, Valka's grandfather answering it to find Stoick the Vast at his front steps.

"Good morning, Chief, and what do I owe the favor of your company?" he wobbled as he allowed his chief to enter his home.

"Well, I wanted to ask you and Alvin something important," he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"And what would that be?" Alvin asked from the side of the room, sharpening his hatchet with a stone.

He paused, thinking of how to go about this properly. "See, Valka and I have been together for some time now, we've had some great moments over the years and I'd like to have more with her by my side…"

The two men listened closely to his every word.

"I came to ask for your blessing for her hand in marriage. I know at times she and I disagree on things and that we're both stubborn but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love her for those reasons. Please…" he bowed to her family. "May I marry your granddaughter, your sister?"

Alvin and his grandfather looked to each other for a while. They had seen both grow closer over the years and from their times as children playing to their time as adults reading and celebrating life, they knew the answer was obvious.

"Well, what took ya so long to ask, Stoick? Of course ya can marry me sister, you're family!" Alvin stood and punched his chief's and friend's shoulder.

"It would made our Val incredibly happy," the old man walked towards the red-haired Viking, placing his hand onto his shoulder. "Tell her in a way only you can, lad, make her feel special."

Stoick thought for a moment before turning to Alvin with a smirk. "You still play?"

…

At the town square, reading over the last volume to the book she loved as a child, the sound of chiming filled the air. All around everyone became still as the ringing of harp strings echoed smoothly and effortlessly. Soon the collective music of bells and pipes, fiddles and accordions sang around as people began emerging with instruments at hand. She saw Gobber on his panpipes with a bell on his interchangeable arm, Bucket on fiddle, Mulch on accordion, Finn Hofferson on drum, Vinn on tin whistle and her brother on the lyre. The melody they shared was beautiful and felt like the coming for a new season as a smooth hum escaped their throats.

The music paused for a brief moment and was replace with the soothing sound of whistling. Valka's eyes widened at the whistler, slowly approaching her where she sat on a bench.

Stoick approached her slowly, seating right by her side on the open spot by the bench, reaching out for her book and closing it before taking her palms into his:

I'll swim and sail on savage sea

With ne'er a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life

It you would marry me

Valka kept silent as he sang, her eyes locked to his and her breathing became slow listen to his every word:

No scorching sun

Nor freezing cold

Will stop me on my journey

If you will promise me your heart

And love me for eternity

He paused. She was speechless, her mouth slightly ajar. There was a long set awkward silence between them and everyone else.

A lump was beginning to form in Stoick's throat. Had all those years only been a friendship? Stoick began loosened his grasp of Valka's palms till they tighten around his, a smile forming on her face as she caroled:

My Dearest One, My Darling Dear,

Your mighty words astound me

But I've no need of mighty deeds

When I feel your arms around me

Stoick beamed brightly as he lifted her off her feet, starting the band once more as they began to dance around the square. Everyone witnessing the events smiled and clapped along.

But I will bring you rings of gold

And even sing you poetry

And I would keep you from all harm

If you would stay beside me

The memories of her saving his life and mind from buried treasures flooded to him at once. She restored his friendship with his companions. If she hadn't pressed on through that blizzard, he would have never been here today, by her side.

I have no use for rings of gold

I care not for your poetry

I only want your hand to hold

I only want you near me

Visions of Snoggletog crossed her, resting by him as he recovered from being ill. She promised to help keep him safe, even if she wasn't as strong as others.

To love and kiss, to sweetly hold

For the dancing and the dreaming

Through all my sorrows and all nights

I'll keep your love inside me

Alvin and Gobber looked to each other as they played, smirks on their faces as they recalled all the hard times they gave him over the years for liking her. Alvin may have been an overprotective elder brother, but if any man proved to him to care for his little Val, it was Stoick. While Gobber and Valka argued and disagreed, they highly respected each other. He made the weapons meant to kill dragons and she fought to prevent any more bloodshed but at the end of the day, they did it all for their people.

I'll swim and sail on savage seas

With ne'er a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life

If you will marry me!

I'll swim and sail on savage seas

With ne'er a fear of drowning

And gladly ride the waves of life

If you will marry me!

Stoick kneeled to one knee after their dance. "What do you say, Val? Will you be my wife?"

Happy tears fell from her eyes as she tackled him to the ground, kissing him sweetly. "Of course."

That day Gothi preformed the traditional marriage rights and she was glad they finally tied the knot at twenty-two. Together, they built their home atop a hill overlooking the village and sea where they hoped and dreamed to grow old together happily.

…

"Imbeciles! How difficult is it to follow my orders, you inferior vermin!" Red Death roared out with such force, the pillars above shook, dropping pieces of derby into the lava below.

"Forgive us, my liege, these Vikings are persistent and refuse to give in," a Monstrous Nightmare lowered his head.

"Do you think this is what I want!? Excuses!" Lifting his massive clawed paw, he dropped it down with such a force onto the Nightmare, flattening him into a pool of mush and blood. The titan-winged Gronckle in the ranks beside the paw kept still, knowing any sudden movement would mean death.

Retrieving his appendage, Red Death ran his long tongue over it, lapping away at the fresh flesh and liquid clean.

"Perhaps I haven't been making my demands clear to you lower life forms, so I'll make it simple: Kill any and all humans who get in your way and show no mercy. I will not tolerate failure in my hive. Go, before I lose my patience with the rest of you!"

With the commands set, the horde went off into the night, ravaging the unsuspecting Vikings of the Archipelago. They burned houses, killed the young and old, took the livestock; the image of the bloody Nightmare as their reason to keep going. Fear kept them going and from going away from the colony. Any who left would be tracked down, brought back and severely tortured before a slow and painful death.

This was their existence, their purpose and they were trapped.

…

On an island used primarily for the gathering of chieftains, Stoick, age twenty-six has witnessed some of the most violent attacks since becoming chief. Like the other chiefs around him, they needed a way to stop the madness and end the dragons, once and for all. As a collective, they were strong, but alliances with neighboring tribes and past scorns with others prevented all to unity and work together.

As they all argued and debated, the doors to the hall slowly opened, revealing the night sky and a man, his right side draped in a cinereous-grey fur. His hair was black, thick with dreadlocks embellished with metal beads. He entered the room slowly, saying nothing as he reached the center of the room.

"Who are you, traveler?" a chief spoke out as the room quieted down.

"My name, is Drago Bludvist, and I've come to help liberate you from your dragon problem," his voice was soft but still held a certain darkness to it.

"And how can you succeed when hundreds of us cannot," one chief to the far side asked.

Drago began to pace around the room, his shadow seeming to grow despite the low firelight. "I come from a faraway land. I watched as a boy, my village and people burned to the ground by monsters. I was a lot like you all once. Frightened, wary, lost; but I found a way to rise above the fear. I am a man of the people. I alone can keep the dragons at bay, all I ask is that you all surrender and bow before me."

Everyone was silent, till the room exploded with laughter. All the chiefs looked to the tall soft-spoken man and mocked his words back to him. They were Vikings and they bowed to no higher power than themselves and their gods.

As the crowd continued to joke about the strange man, he turned away, his cape following close as he draped himself in its velvety soft warmth.

"Fine then! Let's see how well you do without me!" as quickly as he appeared, he vanished.

With the Vikings were too busy to notice from their laughter, Stoick looked up to the ceiling, a bright red glow growing. Soon from above, fire shot from the roof, burning it down as several dragons emerged from the break in the ceiling. The dragons began setting everything ablaze, burning the flesh from the chief men and women in the hall.

The air soon began to fill with fire and smoke as many tried to exit out, but the door was bolted shut from the outside. Quickly, Stoick tried to call out to the others of an additional exit, but alas he was too late as the large dragons lift the mass of chiefs where they stood. All around the smell of burning hair and flesh covered the atmosphere, the horrifying screams of men and women being either roasted alive or torn slowly from limb to limb echoing out to the night sky.

Looking around from the far end of the hall, Stoick realize he was the last. He weighted his odds and knew he's only chance of survival was to retreat. He had to warn his people and all of the evils of Drago Bludvist, the Mad Man before it was too late. Swiftly he ran out to the back exit before the building collapsed upon itself.

Taking one of the ships on the shore of the tiny island, Stoick silently hoisted the sails and let the strong northern wind guide him home as he watched the Chieftains Island crumble in burning chunks, the sound of dragons and screams forever haunting his nightmares.