In this AU, only the younger characters are genderbent. In addition to that, some of the names are changed to sound more feminine or masculine. Dagur is Dagure (because I decided to think French and make 'e' the feminine last letter), Mala is Mal, and Astrid is Aster. Since the other names are not normal names, they will just stay the same. Thanks to Fanofeverything25 for the inspiration for this story!
Heirs. How they troubled their predecessors. Chiefs could hardly spend time worrying about their tribes in the present day when they were so stressed about the future. In Berk's Great Hall, the Berserker chief was pacing back and forth while speaking with his fellow leader.
"I can understand your concerns, Oswald. Hiccup doesn't fill me with much confidence either."
Oswald flicked his wrist. "You're worrying too much, Stoick."
"I'm worrying just the right amount. She's clumsy and skinny. She's not like the other girls her age who are quickly becoming warriors. Even that other thin one, Tuffnut, is more athletic. Let's not even mention Snotlout. She can spend all day looking at her reflection in the water and still knock someone out with one punch. Spitelout won't shut up about it."
"I know why you're upset, but she has other skills. Not every Viking needs to be a fighter. She'll grow into a brilliant woman in her own right. Maybe not on the battlefield, but even Gobber can't match her skills with tinkering."
"I don't need a tinkerer. I need an heir."
"As do I, but I don't even have someone who could make a nice ax. What will Dagure do? She's always causing trouble. She lives in a constant state of hysteria. She'd never be able to lead our people. We've got thousands of them and I wouldn't trust her to lead a troop of seven."
"But we're not given many options, are we?"
Oswald was about to agree when he stopped. Stoick saw his eyes lighting up and approached the other father.
"What did you just think of?"
"That we might have an option. What if we didn't have to let them lead?"
"What are you saying?"
"That we have something else we can do. We can combine tribes with other lands if we marry into them."
Stoick frowned slightly. "Marry them off? Hiccup's such a frail girl. I wouldn't trust giving her away as a bride. She might get killed just as the man tries to kiss her."
"You can pick the suitor, Stoick. I'm sure that there'll be many who come to court her. She's charming–if a bit sarcastic. I'm the one who'll have trouble."
The Berkian shrugged. "You might not. Dagure's athletic and strong. It shouldn't be difficult to find someone willing to marry her."
"At least until they get to know her. As soon as they do, they'll know she's crazy."
"Maybe if you find her a crazy husband, they'll both be happy."
Oswald looked at him as though he had said the most absurd thing. "I am not aligning with another crazy Viking. One is more than enough. Whoever I give her to, he'll be sane. I don't have any other requirements since it would probably be wise to not be choosy, but this is a bit of criteria that must be met."
As the fathers spoke more about this, the heirs in question were in the Berkian chief's house. Sitting on a bed and drawing different inventions was a skinny girl with straight auburn hair that stopped just above her shoulders. Bangs were in her face and looked a little messy because she kept running a hand through them whenever she was undecided on the design she was creating.
"What do you think about this?" she asked, looking up for the first time in nearly an hour.
On the other side of the room, a taller girl was stabbing the air with a knife. She had red hair that was pulled back into a thick braid that went down her upper back. One smaller braid was in the front on the right and kept flying around as she spun. The girl had been doing this for some time, occasionally getting bored and changing to draw a knife wound victim before going back to practicing how those injuries would be made. Laughing, she did this again.
"Oh yeah. Just like that," she said.
The Berserker realized that she had been asked a question and turned to the Berkian. Peeking down, she squinted before shrugging.
"Looks fine, H. You're overthinking it. Just start killing somebody with these weapons of yours and you'll be good."
"I don't like killing, Dagure."
"You've never even tried," the redhead complained. "Just kill one person and tell me you didn't have fun."
"You haven't killed anyone either!" Hiccup said, crossing her arms.
Dagure started to argue, then stopped. A deranged twinkle shone in her eyes.
"Are you sure about that?"
Hiccup shuddered and shook her head. She still was not entirely comfortable being around the other heiress, but she had to keep her out of trouble and the redhead admittedly could be worse. The Berserker was at least not as mean as some of the Berkians. Hiccup unhappily kept drawing.
"I just want to prove that I'm useful. This is the best way I know how."
As she drew, she started drawing faces. One face in particular. The girl got a dreamy smile on her face as she drew a boy with medium-length blond hair that was kept out of his face by a headband. Dagure peeked over and shook her by the shoulders.
"Ooh! Is that Aster? Nice job! Looks just like him!"
Hiccup turned beet red. She had not even really been thinking about what she was doing and definitely would not have done this had she thought Dagure would notice. The Berkian reached for the scroll, but the older girl grabbed it to get a better look.
"Got that mean expression and everything. Pretty detailed, Hiccup. Stalker," she sang, laughing.
Hiccup yanked back the drawing. "I'm not a stalker. I just…"
"Really like him."
"Well…just don't tell anyone, please. He's the best warrior our age. He'd never even look at me twice in the same day. There's no reason to get my hopes up."
Dagure stuck out her tongue. "You're cute enough. You've got that whole quirky thing. Plus, what guy doesn't like a damsel in distress? You'd be amazing at that."
Hiccup stared at her, lips pursed. "Gee, thanks. I feel way better now."
"No problem. I'm glad that worked. I always knew I was inspirational."
The Berkian shook her head. "Oh gods. Well, what about you? Anyone catching your eye?"
Dagure laughed. "Me? All that lovey dovey stuff is weird. I mean, if it makes you happy, go for it. Not for me. I'm a fighter, not a lover. If I had a husband, I'd probably kill him on the honeymoon."
Hiccup turned ashen when she heard this. Another reason why the other girl still scared her. She could never tell if she meant these threats or not.
"Besides," Dagure added, "if I got married, I'd have to split leadership and I'm never doing that. I'll lead on my own. Can't wait for Dad to just call it quits and step down so that I can become chieftess. Can you imagine me in charge?"
"I'm trying not to," Hiccup mumbled.
"I heard that!"
This earned the Berkian a shove. It sent her into a wall with a thud. The Berserker looked regretful for a moment, but it quickly faded.
"If you'd kept your mouth shut, I wouldn't have gotten mad."
"You're always mad."
"You're always making me mad," Dagure countered. "Well, what about you? Are you looking forward to leading?"
"Not at all. I don't want to lead."
"Boring! I don't get you."
"I don't get you either."
"Good thing we don't have to understand each other to sign the treaty." Dagure let out a sigh. "But can we go somewhere besides your room? It's so dull here. I've been a bunch of times. I know every nook and cranny. I wanna see some action. Maybe we'll even spot Aster," she teased.
This made Hiccup blush again, but the idea also intrigued her. "Okay, maybe."
Cheering, Dagure jumped in the air with a Berserker battle cry. Hiccup covered her ears and started leading the way to the arena. As expected, the warrior was there. Aster was fighting against some dragons during training. While he was doing this, a short, stocky girl with dark pigtails ogled him. Everywhere Aster went, she followed.
"Hey, Aster," she said, winking at the boy.
The blond just scowled at her. This did little to deter the young warrior who blocked a fire blast and pretended to faint onto him.
"Whoops!" she exclaimed dramatically. "Good thing you were here to catch me. I think that deserves a kiss–"
The brunette yelped as Aster promptly dropped her. He had less caught her than been fallen onto and had no interest in staying in that position longer.
"Get your head in the game, Snotlout," he chastised.
Snotlout huffed, then rolled. "I think you're just denying your feelings, Aster. There's no reason to. Attraction is all part of being around a Jorgenson. We're irresistible."
To finish, the girl blew him a kiss. Gagging, the blond tried to ignore her. He was so grossed out that he did not notice a Deadly Nadder readying its spines. Hiccup gasped and pointed down.
"Aster, behind you!"
Turning, the boy deflected the attack and jumped, digging his ax into the dragon's neck. When it crashed down to the ground, he rose to his feet proudly. He looked up at Hiccup.
"I would've seen that…but thanks for the warning."
The girl's cheeks burned. "N-no problem. Always happy to help. Not like you need it, though."
Aster smiled at him, making the girl's heart flutter. Dagure noticed and rolled her eyes.
"Just ask him out or something," she whispered, nudging the smaller girl towards the opening of the arena.
Hiccup dug her feet into the dirt. "Dagure, stop," she said in a harsh whisper. "I'm not ready. He wouldn't want to date me anyway."
She had spoken just loudly enough for Snotlout to hear. The girl had angrily stomped out of the arena and scoffed at the heiress.
"No kidding. Of course he wouldn't want you. Not when he has me here. I've got curves in all the right places. You're just a stick. I'm strong too, so he wouldn't have to be so delicate with me. You'd just snap if he so much as winked at you."
"Back off, Snothat," Dagure hissed, reminding Hiccup again of why she did not mind hanging out with the other girl too much.
Snotlout shrunk a little. "It's Snotlout."
"Snotknuckles, back off before I make you."
The brunette started leaving. "That's why no one wants to date you either. You're mean."
Dagure started chasing the other girl, causing her to run faster. When she was gone, the Berserker began laughing.
"Ah, she's too easy," she said, catching her breath from the cackles.
Noticing Hiccup's sad face, Dagure stopped laughing. The small girl looked so unhappy with herself.
"She's right," she said quietly. "No one wants to be with someone who's so small. I thought I would've grown more by now."
Shrugging, Dagure gestured towards the blond boy still in the arena. "I wouldn't say no one."
"Aster? No, he doesn't even like me as a person."
Hiccup looked at the Berkian again before forcing herself to look away. When she did, she felt an arm go around her shoulder. Another blond had come over. He had long hair that went to his knees and partially covered his face. Still, Hiccup could see a toothy smile.
"Hey, Hiccup."
The Berkian sighed. "Hey, Ruffnut."
"Heard that you didn't think anyone would want you. You're weird, so I like you."
"Oddly enough," Hiccup said, removing his arm, "that doesn't really make me feel better."
Behind the boy, his twin sister was nodding her head. She had a lot of hair like his, but it was in one long, loose braid.
"You should join us in yak tipping!"
"Thanks for the offer, Tuff, but I'm good."
Another girl tried to sneak past them on her way out of the arena. She was bigger than the others and had a blonde braid on each side of her head.
"Wanna come too, Fishlegs?" Ruff asked, calling over his shoulder.
The girl jumped and shook her head. "Not really. That doesn't sound safe."
Ruffnut shrugged. "Suit yourself. More time with Hiccup."
The boy wrapped his arm around her again. Dagure found herself getting annoyed with his insistence. He had two more seconds before he also had a black eye. Before the redhead could do something, the last person left the arena.
"I wouldn't be too sure about that, Ruffnut," Aster warned. "Hiccup said she doesn't want to hang out with you."
He elbowed Ruffnut who sulked away and joined his sister.
"When you change your mind, you know where to find me."
Hiccup just sighed before turning and almost bumping into Aster. The shock of it made her trip over her feet. This time, the blond did consciously catch someone. Dagure grinned at them in spite of herself.
"Love's gross, but you two are cute."
Both teenagers started blushing and Aster pulled Hiccup up so that she was properly on her feet before turning around to go home.
"You know," Dagure dragged, "if you want to impress him, keep working on those creations. A warrior and a blacksmith. Doesn't sound awful together…if you're determined to not agree with me about the inherent ickiness of romance."
"Why do you think it's so awful?"
"Holds you back. Mom and Dad weren't happy. They both should've never gotten together."
"My parents were really in love."
"Yeah, well, that didn't work out too nicely."
Hiccup sadly glanced towards the Great Hall. Dagure was right. Her parents had been madly in love, just leaving her father broken when her mother was taken by the dragons. Where had love gotten them? Dagure's parents married out of convenience and were miserable until the day her mother died on a scouting mission on an unfamiliar island. Where had marriage gotten them? If love and marriage always ended in such sadness, Dagure would certainly prefer to avoid both.
"All right," she said, sighing. "I think this is all I can take for today. I've been bored out of my mind since getting here. I'm going to see if Dad's done. See ya next time, sister."
The redhead skipped off for the Great Hall. She was not necessarily excited to return home, but it would be more interesting to be on the water than to be there. She was about to enter when she heard her father's voice.
"I've known chiefs who have had sons and daughters, both making them so proud. I've never been the type of man to prefer a son. I just would prefer someone else altogether. If I'd had a daughter with a sane mind, I would have loved and cared for her. Yet, I'm stuck with Dagure. Apparently, I've offended the gods in some way."
Dagure closed her eyes for a moment. This was nothing she did not know. His words would hurt her no more this day than they had the first time he said them. Oswald did not make his feelings a secret. The girl knew she was not what he wanted. He was not what she wanted either. She would have preferred to have a father who was not so scared of what everyone thought–one who would laugh and joke around with her, but they were stuck with each other. Pushing open the door, the redhead acknowledged Stoick with a nod and took out one of her many knives.
"Are we leaving yet? It's boring here."
"Dagure," Oswald said, scolding. "I'm sorry, Stoick. Please, don't pay her any mind."
"I know you sure don't," the girl scoffed, getting scowled at by her father. "I'll be waiting on the ship. Can't stay around here any longer." She got to the door before pausing. "Oh and Stoick, non-twin blondie's got a thing for our girl. That might offer you some comfort or whatever."
The Berkian chief's eyes widened hopefully. "Aster and Hiccup," he said to himself.
Oswald rubbed his forehead, apologized again, and followed Dagure to the ship. The younger Berserker was sharpening the knives as always.
"Finally. I was wondering when you'd be ready."
Oswald just glared at her. "Dagure, we need to talk."
"Okay, about what?"
"The future. Your future."
"What about it?"
Oswald's glare was so harsh that Dagure started to feel worried and stopped working with the knife.
"You're seventeen now. You'll be eighteen before too long. When you are, you'll be married."
The redhead's jaw dropped. "What?! I'm not getting married. Who are you even thinking about me marrying? It better not be Ansson. He's a jerk."
"No, I'm not having you marry Ansson. I don't know yet, but it'll be someone from another tribe. We need to strengthen our home and this is the only way you can do it."
"It's not! Dad, I can lead. Let me become chieftess. That's all I've ever wanted."
"I don't care. You will not lead my people."
"Who would want to marry me anyway?"
"We'll see. I doubt many would, but I'll be able to find someone. I'll start looking immediately."
Dagure's hands clenched into fists. "This isn't fair! I don't want to leave! You won't live forever. When you're gone, who will be in charge?"
"I'll find someone."
"You don't have to find someone. I'm right here! Just let me lead!"
The girl stomped her foot. Oswald shook his head, looking stern.
"This isn't convincing me of your worthiness. Prepare yourself. As soon as I find a suitor, I'll have him come to the island."
Dagure stormed off the deck and went to the lower compartment. Hiccup had jinxed her with all that talk of romance and love. Now, she was cursed to be with someone. Her nerves were multiplying and she bit at her hand. It was a nervous habit that her father tried to get her to break, but it still happened from time to time. This was definitely one of those times. Who would this husband be? Maybe he would be on his deathbed and then she would be killed as soon as he died so that they could stay together. Maybe he would be disgusting. Maybe he would be the size of Stoick the Vast and attack her whenever he thought it was warranted. He could be anything and none of the options were good.
Oswald was truthful when he said that he would commence his search. As soon as they docked, he began researching different tribes. The letters which were sent back and forth did not end well for him. Oswald did his best to appeal to the chiefs and their sons.
"I have a daughter of seventeen years," he would write. "She has long, thick hair and is a skilled warrior. She could fight in many battles alongside your soldiers."
This intrigued the potential suitors until they asked for her name.
"Dagure?" they would respond. "Our sincerest apologies, Chief Oswald of the Berserker Tribe. We have no interest in aligning with you through your daughter."
"Is there anything I could do to change your mind?"
"No. We have heard that she was sick. We do not appreciate the fact that you did not disclose this information in your first letter."
"My daughter is not sick. She is healthy in body and could give birth to many children."
"She is sick in mind. We do not want a crazy chieftess."
That is what continued happening as Oswald pulled out his hair. This was going to be impossible. As soon as people found out who his daughter was, they did not want her.
"I don't want her either!" he yelled angrily at the letter, wishing the Vikings were there in person to receive his tongue lashing.
Eventually, fate smiled upon him. Oswald went to find Dagure where she normally was: by herself and stabbing wooden targets. The girl had been happy so far. Seeing the disappointed look on her father's face meant that she did not have to meet anyone. Therefore, seeing a look of hope in his eyes did not offer much encouragement.
"I found a potential suitor. Ragnar from the Thunderhead Tribe. They're not my first choice since they're a small tribe, but they have expressed an interest. He'll be here tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?! And you're just now telling me?!"
"I just now found out," Oswald said defensively. "Even if I'd known earlier, I would have waited to tell you so that you didn't try to run away or anything."
"I'll stay," the girl huffed. "I'll just make him run away."
Oswald's expression was harsh. "If you do…" He took a deep breath. "You better not. If you care about this tribe at all, you'll make it work."
Dagure frowned after him as he left. He was so irritating, but the girl listened. She woke up early the next day to prepare. She bathed in the hot springs and put on a deep red dress. It was even embroidered. Once this was done, she got a bucket of water to see her reflection. Several berries were in a cup. The heiress crushed them and applied the red to her lips with her finger. Lightly, she added it to her cheeks. Some of her wanted to smear it and make a mess–make her look as crazy as she felt, but that was never allowed. At her worst, she had to at least look sane. Dagure took a brush and dipped it in charcoal. Applying it to her eyelids, she looked at herself in the water. She never thought that she was a pretty girl, but she had to try to look beautiful for the chief. Her hair. That was something. She had gotten it from her mother and everyone always said how beautiful her mother's hair was.
Dagure undid her braids. She loved them, but she would try something different this time. Unbraiding it, the girl let her hair come down in wavy locks. She almost did not think she looked bad. Hopefully, this guy would not either. The Berserker heard the other Vikings going down to the docks. She took a nervous breath.
"Okay, Dagure. Don't blow this."
Leaving the room, she walked to the docks gracefully. She surprised her father with this. He never knew her to be graceful, but she could be when she so desired. Her heart pounded in her chest and ears. The Thunderhead ship was in their harbor and the ramp was lowered. A man around Oswald's age with brown hair walked down, eyeing everyone. He shook hands with the other chief.
"Welcome to our lands, Ragnar."
Ragnar did not return the greeting and went over to Dagure. He looked the girl up and down.
"You're plainer than I expected," he said, frowning.
Dagure began frowning also, but she saw her father's warning expression. No frowns. Just smiles.
"I'm sorry that I'm not what you expected," she said through gritted teeth.
Ragnar looked bored. "Let's go somewhere private so that I can get to know you."
He roughly took her arm and they started going towards the forest. His grip was tight and Dagure wiggled herself free. She tried to do so with a smile so that it did not reveal how much she wanted to hit him. Unfortunately, the smile was more of a grimace than anything.
"What do you want to know?"
"Are you a virgin?"
"Yeah. You?"
"No."
"Oh, okay." Dagure paused, awkwardly glancing around. "So…what types of things do you like?"
"Women. That's why I came here."
"I guess that makes sense."
"Do you like men?"
"I mean, yeah, but no one in particular."
"Good. If I saw you with another man, I'd kill you both."
Dagure tensed, taking a deep breath. "Don't worry. I'd be faithful."
"Good. I heard that you like to fight."
"I do."
"You'll be stopping that. On my island, women just bear children, clean, and cook. Are you good at the last two?"
"Yeah, I'm good at them," Dagure said, trying not to growl.
"I'm glad to hear that. I also heard that you have a smart mouth."
"I don't know what idiot tol–"
The girl caught herself. Ragnar just squinted at her, unamused.
"I don't like for my wives to be mouthy."
"Wives? As in plural?"
"You'd be in the company of four other women."
Dagure started to laugh. "Well, doesn't that just make me feel all warm inside. And you said I couldn't be with anyone else."
"You can't."
"Gotta love that fairness."
"It's fair. It looks like I'll have to spend our honeymoon training you how to behave."
"If you want to train something, get yourself a baby yak."
"Watch your tone, girl."
"Watch what you say or you just might not be able to say it anymore."
"You're the one who needs me. Your father practically begged me to take you away from here. You've offended me, so apologize and I'll consider taking you as my bride."
"He begged. I didn't. I'm fine staying, so you won't get an apology from me."
"Apologize or I'll rearrange your brains."
"Try me, pops. You throwing your back out will be the least of your concerns."
Ragnar scowled at Dagure and she returned the expression with more ferocity. The Thunderhead had been warned. She was crazy–no good. She would taint the minds of his other wives if she did not kill them.
"Tell your father that you messed up this union. I don't want you. I'd be shocked if anyone did."
Ragnar began walking away. Dagure glared after him.
"I don't want you either!"
The girl furiously marched to her hut. She slammed the door when she got there and roughly wiped away the makeup. She did not need it. She never would. She quickly changed into her normal clothes and was in the middle of braiding her hair when Oswald entered the home.
"Care to explain why Ragnar is leaving without you?"
Dagure huffed and kept braiding. "Because he's a wrinkly jerk who just wants me to have his kids and clean with the other wives in his little group. I'm not doing that."
"You will do exactly that."
"He doesn't want me and I don't want him."
Oswald school with anger. "I specifically told you to make this work."
"I tried. I really did, but then he kept talking and just ruined it."
"Dagure, if he wanted you to do nothing but bear children, you were supposed to smile and agree."
"I've got more potential than that."
"You've got the potential to bring this entire tribe into chaos!"
The girl stopped her braiding to look at him. Oswald hardly ever yelled. It was the one time when he seemed like her father.
"You are not staying here. I will also not trust you to remain away. Where you go, you'll be somewhere with Vikings who can keep track of you. So, I will either give you to a husband or a brothel."
"A brothel?! Dad, that's crazy!"
A loud slap rang in the air. A red mark in the shape of Oswald's hand appeared on Dagure's left cheek.
"Don't you ever call anything I do crazy again," the chief warned, voice low and serious. "There is one more tribe I can reach out to. If they say yes, you will be wed. If they don't, you know the alternative."
Tears brimmed the girl's eyes, but they did not fall. With a nod of her head, she went out to the forest to yell into the trees. A week passed. It was the longest of Dagure's life. She did not know if Oswald received a yes or no. He did not speak to her for those seven days. He wanted to make her nervous and it worked. Finally, a ship came into the harbor. When the ramp lowered, a man walked down. He was tall–not as tall as the tallest Berkians, but he was tall. He had blond hair shaved close to his head, a lean though muscular body, and a face which looked like a questioning expression was chiseled into it. A tall woman with orange-red hair in a long ponytail came forward.
"Presenting Prince Mal of the Defenders of the Wing."
When a Berserker approached, the woman lowered a sword near his face. The prince gave her a nod of his head and kept walking past the people. He stopped when he saw the heiress. Glancing for a moment, he extended his hand.
"You must be Dagure. I believe we are to be wed."