Stoick wrapped his long, thick chief's cloak tightly around his large body as he stood outside of the Great Hall where the many great and respectable Viking chieftains were gathered for the Thing, to discuss what they as a people, would do now that Vikings were no longer at odds with dragons. The howling winds and raging snow falling from the night sky mirrored Stoick's thoughts as he contemplated on the fact on what his son and heir, Hiccup, and his Night Fury, Toothless, had done for him and the Hairy Hooligan army that lay siege to Helheim's Gate in a last-ditch effort to finally the dragon raids that have ravaged the Barbaric Archipelago for centuries.
However, Stoick saw the monster his son Hiccup and Toothless slew at Helheim's Gate, and had he not seen it with his own eyes, he would doubt that that monster was the cause of centuries of war between Vikings and dragons. But the former dragon queen was a tyrant among her kind, Hiccup and Astrid both recounted the tale of how they first found the best within the hellish depths of Helheim's Gate as they stumbled upon a flock of dragons hauling in their kills and the food they had taken from nearby Viking villages to pay tribute to the thing that ruled over them and they told of how if the dragon's tribute was insufficient, the Red Death would devour them without pity or mercy.
Power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely. And it would seem that truth applied to dragons as well.
Of course, all the bloodshed, death, and loss the Vikings had suffered in their lifetime because of the dragons would never fully heal, of course not. But Hiccup and the Riders of Berk were the advocates of peace between Vikings and dragons. The dragons had never been their enemies; they had been driven to desperation by a tyrant, and desperation leads all living things to do terrible, dark things.
But as he stood in the biting cold, Stoick felt a flicker of hope. Hiccup had chosen a different path, advocating for peace and understanding rather than continuing the pointless killing that could've continued for many more generations. Hiccup was not just following in the footsteps of his father; he was building something new, something that could heal the wounds of the past. It reminded Stoick of Valka, his late wife, who had always envisioned a world where dragons and Vikings could coexist. Her spirit seemed to linger in the air, urging him to embrace this change, to support his son in his quest for harmony. Stoick's heart ached with the memory of Valka, her laughter, her fierce spirit, and her unwavering belief in the good that could come from unity. She had always seen the potential for peace, even when Stoick himself had been blinded by anger and tradition. Now, as he looked upon Hiccup, he saw her legacy reflected in his son's determination and compassion.
Just then, Bertha emerged from the warmth of the hall, her strong, fit frame silhouetted against the flickering light of the torches. The way her dirty blond hair fell in a striking braid only added to her commanding presence.
"Stoick!" she called, a teasing lilt in her voice. "Why are you out here all alone? The rest of us are inside celebrating! Come join us!"
He turned to her, a soft smile gracing his features. "I needed to clear my head, Bertha. The weight of the night has settled on my shoulders, and I'm afraid I'm no longer in the festive mood."
Bertha stepped closer, her piercing gaze assessing him. She recognized the familiar look in his eyes, a mix of contemplation and something more primal that stirred beneath the surface. A smirk tugged at her lips, and she leaned in slightly, lowering her voice to a playful whisper. "And what is it that you are in the mood for, then?"
Stoick chuckled softly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a bit. "I suppose I could use a little more than just ale and merriment if you catch my drift."
Her smirk widened, and she crossed her arms, her strong posture exuding confidence. "You know, Stoick, the night is still young, and there are plenty of ways to warm up out here. You don't have to spend it brooding in the cold."
His heart raced slightly at her words, the playful flirtation igniting a spark within him. "Is that so?" he replied, leaning in a little closer, his voice dropping to a more intimate tone. "And what do you suggest, Bertha?"
Minutes later, the door to Bertha's guest chambers burst open as she and Stoick were kissing fervently while ripping each other's chieftain cloaks off of their broad shoulders. Momentarily breaking away from Bertha's lips, Stoick closed and locked her door before she slammed him against the closed door and captured his lips in another fierce kiss, one Stoick reciprocated. Bertha was strong, which didn't surprise Stock, after all, she was the chieftain of a tribe of fierce Viking women, whether they be shield maidens or simple peasants, and she ensured that her Bog Burglars were not underestimated. Her display of strength both physically and principally was something Stoick always admired about Bertha, and she would see just how strong she was intimately.
Breaking their heated kiss, Bertha murmured hotly against Stoick's ear. "Take off your clothes," her hands were fumbling for his belt and pants while she said this to her current lover. As the Chief of Berk obliged her, he watched as she knelt before him and smirked at the raging bulge that had formed in his pants. "Mmm, let's just see how vast you are, Stoick." After mouthing playfully at the bulge, she yanked his pants and undergarments down with one strong movement. Throbbing with need, Stoick's cock quickly sprung up, nearly smacking Bertha in the face.
"Odin's beard," Bertha murmured in disbelief at the size of the cock in front of her. She looked up at Stoick, her face portrayed with dubiety. "Forgive me for bringing this up, but you mean to tell me that your late wife took this," taking his flushed, throbbing cock in her hand to emphasize her point, "inside of her?"
"Y-Yes," Stoick grunted as Bertha began to stroke him. His thoughts momentarily fell back on the time he and Valka were entwined in bed and remembered how small she was compared to him, even though she was a very tall woman. "Are you saying that you can't take it, Bertha?" He smirked playfully at Bertha, returning his thoughts to the present.
Grinning mischievously at Stoick, the Chieftess of the Bog Burglar's wink. "I suppose we'll find out, won't we?" She then resumed stroking him, at a deliciously slow pace. Feeling Bertha's large, yet soft hand pumping him caused Stoick to groan loudly, but he could see that she would do more than stroke him. Leaning forward, she kissed the head of his cock before dragging her tongue from base to tip.
"Mmmm, I had heard rumors of your title thanks to your marriage with Valka. I just didn't think you would be this vast…" she continued pumping him, even faster than her earlier ministrations, completely in control of the Chief of Berk. Bertha leaned forward and swirled her tongue along his tip, smiling at the sight of Stoick's eyes burning with lust and desire with clenched teeth. "…or taste this good…" the large, busty blond then ran her tongue along the underside of his cock, toying with the elder Haddock as though she were a virgin when they both knew otherwise.
Bertha then took Stock past her lips, moaning as she began to deep-throat him while using her other hand to palm one of her large breasts. "Oh, gods! UNGH… you certainly know how to have a man at your mercy!" Groaning loudly, Stoick watched as the blond bobbed her head up and down fervently while touching herself.
"Bertha, s-stop for a moment," she pulled off him, making a sloppy pop as a string of saliva connected from the man's cock to the bottom of her lip. Gesturing to her clothes, Stoick leaned down to yank off her tunic and ripped off her breast bindings, causing her ample breasts to bounce. "Better," he smirked before watching her roll her eyes while smiling coyly at him. "Now, continue."
And continue she did, only this time, Bertha leaned forward and slid his cock between her endowed breasts. Words were now beyond Stoick, but as he growled like a feral beast indicating her to move, the busty blond began to slide his spit-slick cock between her breasts. As he thrust up against her pillowy soft breasts, Stoick grunted loudly as let his head fall back against the door and savor the sensations enveloping him. His mind once again thought of Valka, he still missed and loved her, but she'd been dead for fifteen years, and despite clinging to the memory of his late wife, Stoick knew he needed to move on, but for whatever reason, he couldn't.
He was pulled back to the present when Bertha suddenly stood up and grabbed one of his hands, leading him to her bed and pushing him down on the comfortable furs. Stoick watched with rapt eyes as Bertha straddled him, reaching for his cock and sinking on him until she was flushed against his groin. Both of them groaned loudly, Stoick's large hands cradled Bertha's stocky, yet curvy hips as the large blond atop of him began to ride him slowly. "Mmmm, I forgot how good sex is," she breathed throatily with her eyes closed. Stoick was aware that Bertha had been sexually intimate with the man who came from prominent Viking blood and had given her Camicazi, unfortunately, that man had been killed during a dragon raid, resulting in the Bog Burglar heir losing her father and Bertha, her lover.
Well aware that their coupling would no doubt be the night, Stoick saw he and Bertha were in similar boats—both of them lost people they cared for because of the war with the dragons and both were single parents raising their heirs to one day take their place as leaders of their respective tribes. In another life perhaps, Bertha could've been the woman he was meant to be with. However, despite the differences and age gap between him and Valka, he didn't regret marrying his late wife, who in turn gave him a son who was forging his saga and destiny without traditions and past grievances to stand between him.
"You're thinking too hard, Stoick," Bertha's teasing tone caused the large redhead to snap out of his thoughts and look into Bertha's eyes. Smiling, she took his hands off of her hips and placed them squarely on her breasts. "Less thinking, more humping."
"Right."
Groping her endowed breasts firmly, Stoick watched as Bertha closed her hands over his, groping her chest along with him as she rode him harder and faster. The sight made his blood burn hot with desire as well as her shameless moans that filled the dimly lit room. After enjoying his large, rough hands kneading her breasts, Bertha took her hands off of Stoick's which were still over her chest, and then placed them on his large, hairy chest for support as started thrusting his cock inside of her while she began a steady movement of bouncing on top of him.
"Yes, yes, yes, gods! Gods, yes!" Bertha's moans echoed through the room and were possibly overheard by the Vikings who were outside on night watch, but Bertha couldn't care less. "Hump me, Stoick! Faster! Harder!"
Hearing her impassioned pleas, Stoick smirked before obliging her lover. With a growl, he suddenly changed their positions, pulling out of her and having Bertha go on her hands and knees while he knelt behind her. He soon slid back inside of her with one harsh thrust, causing her to bow her head and cry out in pleasure. As Stoick snapped his hips against her pert backside, he reached down to grope her breast with one hand while his other fiddled with her clit.
"T-Thor's hammer, yes!" She screamed, in unadulterated pleasure. Her voice was nearly drowned out by the lewd sound of flesh slapping against each other and the harsh, animalistic growls that rumbled from Stoick's throat as he humped Bertha like an untamed beast. "Stoick, I'm close! Don't you dare stop!"
"I won't."
Rolling his hips in deep, long motions, Stoick leaned over her to plant kisses along her back while continuing to palm her breasts and touching her where she most desired. Mewling, Bertha pushed back against him, hot and needy as she shook with pleasure. Bertha was incapable of holding her moans, just like Stoick was unable to hold his grunts and groans back as he felt that familiar throbbing in his cock. He was getting closer to his climax, as well as Bertha, he was about to pull out, but she looked over her shoulder and gave him a stern look. "Inside of me, Stoick!" She screamed, her tight walls clenching tightly around his cock. "Fill me with your seed!"
Complying with her demands, Stoick grunted harshly as he pumped himself into Bertha with several more harsh thrusts until he couldn't hold back any longer. "UNGH! Odin's beard!" He snarled, burying himself to the hilt and spilling thick ropes of his seed into the Chieftess of the Bog Burglars. Bertha shuddered as her womb was filled and her walls squeezed tighter around him, milking every last drop of his seed.
Once he was finished, Bertha collapsed with a mischievous smile on her face as express amounts of Stoick's seed slowly poured out of her. "I still can't believe Valka used to take that from you," she laughed breathlessly.
"She was full of surprises," Stoick sighed truthfully as he wiped away the sweaty strands of his hair from his face. "I should probably head back to my chambers—"
"No need," Bertha said, sitting up before placing a hand on his cock once again. "You can spend the night with me…" as she began stroking his flaccid cock back to hardness, she added with a wink, "…besides, I'm not through with you." She dove back onto his cock with a renewed hunger. Stoick groaned and smiled as Berthaa took his cock into her mouth and started bobbing her head up and down.
He supposed there was no point in going back out into the night cold when Bertha was offering him warmth all night long.
The morning light streamed through the windows of the guest chambers Bertha was using for the night, casting a warm glow over the remnants of a night filled with passion and warmth. Stoick and Bertha had shared more than just a few stolen moments; they had forged a connection that transcended their roles as leaders in their respective tribes. After a long, soothing bath together, they had wrapped themselves in the comfort of each other's company, savoring the quiet intimacy that had blossomed between them.
As Stoick dressed, he felt a renewed sense of energy coursing through him. He glanced over at Bertha, who was fastening her cloak, her blond hair still tousled from the night. She caught his gaze and smiled, a playful glint in her eyes that sent warmth through his chest. With a final shared look, they made their way outside, ready to join the others at the docks.
The air was crisp and invigorating as they approached the bustling harbor. Stoick could see Gobber, his old friend, waiting near the ship that would carry them back to Berk. The Hairy Hooligans were gathered around, exchanging stories and laughter as they prepared to sail home, Hiccup and the other Riders of Berk, however, were sharing one last conversation with the other heirs of the Viking chieftains that gathered before taking to the air, waiting for their fellow Hooligans to set sail.
"Good morning, Stoick!" Gobber called out, waving his arm enthusiastically. "Where did you disappear to last night? We thought the ale had finally taken you!"
Stoick chuckled, shaking his head. "No ale, Gobber. Just a long conversation with a friend. And perhaps a little more."
Gobber raised an eyebrow, glancing between Stoick and Bertha. The look on his face shifted from curiosity to understanding as he noticed the way Bertha smiled at Stoick, and how Stoick returned the gesture with a warmth that spoke volumes. The unspoken connection between them was evident, and Gobber's grin widened.
"Well, it looks like you found yourself a rather fine companion, eh?" Gobber said, a chuckle escaping his lips. "I had my suspicions when I saw you both sneaking off!"
Stoick laughed, appreciating his friend's light-heartedness. "Let's just say I've been reminded of the joys of living, Gobber. The night was… enlightening and very warm."