A/N: I need to wrap this story up because I've lost my motivation to prolong it and want to write other things. So expect shorter chapters than usual, but the climax of this story will hopefully be a good send-off.
(Germany—Viking settlement)
Hiccup knew that as king of his people, his greatest responsibility was preserving their futures. And at this moment in time, that was his greatest priority. Messages struck him one after the other, like someone hurling throwing knives at him; his first message was from Aud Haroldsdottir, her brother, Ulfbjorn the Undefeated was moving to embed himself among his people and weaken them to allow the traitor, Harald Haraldson, along with Drago Bludvist and the armies comprised of armies following his Northern Alliance to crush them in a bombardment of fire, blood, and death. His second message was from his spies within the Kingdom of Corona, the nobles who are at odds with Queen Arianna and Rapunzel have begun amassing a sizable force of men loyal to their cause and intend to ride on the settlement they had established and raze it to the ground as well as kill every Viking occupying it. The third message was of warning, Prince Haehmund of the Roman Catholic Church is marching here along with a large army of Zealots to purge the Vikings in Christian Europe. Finally, the final message he received was from the scouts he had dispatched back to Scandinavia some time ago to see whether or not their homelands were truly lost or if they could return there to settle, the message Hiccup received from these scouts was not of hopelessness and despair, but rather it was of rejoicing and confirmation that their homelands were producing food from Midgard once more, and the plague that had driven them out of their lands was gone.
With armies, threats, betrayal, and death surrounding him and his people like a ring of spears, Hiccup summoned his inner circle, advisors, and warlords to convene in the Great Hall to inform them of his decision regarding their next course of action.
"You all know what we face. And I tell you, it's something I will not allow us all to face," Hiccup began as he turned to Astrid, his beloved wife, as well as the women he had taken as his Fair Queens, "I will not put our children's lives in danger by standing idle and waiting for our enemies to strike us like a tidal wave that we have no chance of standing against," he then turned to his warlords, "nor will I ask you all to sacrifice the lives of your warriors to defeat merely an army of leg of the body of the monster that seeks to devour us all." With a heavy sigh, Hiccup, who loomed over the table they were gathered around drew his dagger and plunged the blade where Scandinavia was located. "Instead of waiting to be slaughtered like sheep, we return to our homelands, bolster our defenses, use the lay of the land to our advantage, summon reinforcements from our Viking allies across Europe as well as pray that those who might see us as allies could rally to our cause: the Samurai of the Dawn Empire, Kumandra, the Knights of the Iron Legion, or anyone else who wishes to stand with us and set aside differences, ideals, and cultures to face tyranny and genocide on a scale I cannot even fathom."
Many Viking warlords shared looks of confusion, believing Hiccup to be mad, especially since they were kept in the dark about the news that Scandinavia was no longer habitable for their people and the dragons again. Raising a hand to settle the uproar of protests and questions, Hiccup retrieved the message the scouts sent back to their homelands and spoke so that all could hear. "I share your doubts and concerns. I didn't believe it too, but the scouts I sent back to our homelands are men I know to be good and honest men, and they have informed me that whatever caused our lands to become uninhabitable has passed," he then gave his warlords a pleading look. "I ask you, as your king, to trust my judgment in this matter. Is it not better to return to lands we know better than anyone and use them to destroy our enemies rather than wait for them to wash us away like a stain?"
"I agree with Hiccup," Thuggory spoke up. The young leader of the Meatheads looked to the other Viking warlords. "If our homelands can sustain us and our dragons once again, we will have the advantage in fending off our enemies, should they double back and face us."
Standing by her husband, Astrid then looked over the map her husband had spent so much time making before demanding the attention of her friends and allies. "If we do decide to leave this place and return to our homelands, we won't be sailing," looking at Hiccup, she gave her husband a firm look, "winter will soon be here, and the sea will be fraught with perils," she then turned to the warlords gathered, "if we leave now, quietly, and without alerting the enemies in Queen Arianna's court, by the time all these enemies arrive, they will not find us, instead they'll find each other, and slaughter each other, depleting their numbers." Shrugging, she then added. "Gods be willing, that will take the entire winter, and either they decide to abandon their campaign of destroying us, or commit whatever forces they have left to sail across the sea, leaving us to finish them off, once and for all."
"No argument there, queenie," Ruffnut huffed while nudging her brother. "Would be nice if some of our old enemies would stay dead, am I right?" Tuffnut snickered in agreement before turning to Viggo and adding. "No offense, Viggo." The former Dragon Hunter gave them a look over and grunted in response.
One of the leaders attending this gathering, a simple farmer who had been using his people to provide food for the people of Hiccup's kingdom shook his head. "I wish it hadn't come to this," looking up at his rulers, he spoke with honesty and humility. "Forgive me, Lord Hiccup, Lady Astrid, but we have spent so much time trying to build a future here for our people, and know you want us to leave it all behind." The man quickly added. "I understand you have all of our best interests in mind, and I respect that, but part of me doubts that what your spies told us about our homeland is true. What if they spoke false and our homelands can't sustain us?"
Hiccup gave the farmer an understanding look, and he gave him a curious look. "What's your name?"
"I am Bjorn Frostharrow, of the Frostharrow Clan," he introduced himself, "my clan is known for our agricultural prowess and strong sense of community. Though I value life and prefer diplomacy over conflict, I am still Viking, and will not hesitate to shed blood to protect my family and my people."
Giving a firm nod in both greetings and understanding, Hiccup spoke. "Bjorn," he began, "I admire your morals and understand your doubts about whether it's safe for our people to return home, I too harbor doubts about them. But I see no alternative." He then continued. "The numbers our enemies bring to bear against us are as vast as the sand on a beach shore. We would have no chance of success if we met this colossal force by numbers alone." He then continued. "It's a risk, yes. But it would be far better to live in uncertainty rather than die by overwhelming forces."
"A wise decision, King Hiccup," Viggo mused in agreement. "Upon leaving these lands, the various factions who would do us harm will collide, and as Queen Astrid has said, they will either abandon their camping or destroy each other," stroking his beard, Viggo shook his head softly. "Unfortunately, I do not believe Drago Bludvist will abandon his campaign. After all, he is a madman, intent on ruling the world. He will not stop until he gets what he wants."
"Not if we can help it," Eret said firmly. The man was wracked with grief after the death of Melody, despite the healers' best efforts to save her when the Deviants came to attack them, she had lost too much blood. "I've already lost someone I love because our enemies have old scores to settle. I won't lose any more of those I care about because of that madman and the lunatics who follow or are allied with him."
A collective chorus of "ayes" and grunts of agreement filled the air as the other warlords submitted to their king and knew what was at stake—the survival of their culture and people. With the decision made, the warlords dispersed and gathered their respective peoples and prepared for the exodus at hand.
"I can't believe we're going back home," Fishlegs thought out loud. "It feels as though we've left our homelands behind."
Snotlout grunted in agreement. "Right? But if going back to Scandinavia means we have a chance to defeat our enemies and see our children grow and have children of their own, then that's a chance I'm willing to take," looking at Hiccup, the short, stocky Jorgenson smiled at him. "I'm with you, cousin. Even though I still think you're insane."
"Hey, we happen to like insane," Tuffnut grinned.
Sharing her brother's grin, Ruff nodded. "We've had our fair share of insane over the years," she stated before looking at each of her friends, "but the war we now face will be our most insane endeavor yet."
"Don't sound so eager," Astrid murmured before taking one of Hiccup's hands and kissing his knuckles. "I take it we'll leave these lands the same way we made our way to New Berk back when Grimmel threatened us?"
"Yup," Hiccup nodded. "With Drago and the armies allied with him sailing here, the last thing we want is to meet those forces head-on at sea. We won't stand a chance. So we'll fly to make sure our dragons are well rested. This will be an exhausting journey." Turning to his friends, he gave them all a firm nod. "Get a good night's sleep, gang. We leave at the earliest opportunity."
(Unknown location)
As the Northern Alliance fleet sliced through the open sea, an eerie sense of purpose cloaked each vessel like the heavy fog that loomed over the water. Shadows danced on the cresting waves as ships adorned with icons of intrigue and power readied themselves for what was to come. Every flap of canvas and every creak of wood resonated with an unspoken promise of violence, ambition, and the relentless pursuit of dominance that united these diverse factions.
Leading the charge was the Northern Alliance, a monstrous assembly of hardened warriors and naval engineers who had long been brewing their resentment for the feeling of being overshadowed by the exemplary leadership of Hiccup Haddock and his loyal followers. This coalition was not just a band of ships; it was an amalgamation of historical grudges and dreams sown from bitter rivalry, grounded in the desire to destroy the very ideals that had made Hiccup a symbol of hope for many.
Fighting shoulder to shoulder with the Northern Alliance were the forces from the late Johann's Muslim Coalition, hardened by their trials and tribulations, each warrior eager to prove their strength and rewrite their history in the wake of perceived injustices. Similar motivations fueled the Samurai of the Red Dragon Order, whose warriors embodied the precision and honor of an ancient tradition while harboring fierce loyalty to Drago Bludvist, the man whose name now floated like a dark cloud above the battlefield.
The Black Stone Legion, notorious for their ruthlessness, had garnered a reputation forged in blood—a perilous reputation that instilled fear across the world, thanks to their ruthless yet keen warlord, Apollyon. As they sailed under the same banner, their apparatus of war came to symbolize a convergence of fury from the east. Meanwhile, remnants of the Dragon Hunters and Trappers from Scandinavia, once sworn to kill and trap every dragon in their homeland for profit, now found themselves thrust into a game of survival, caught within the ambitions of the man who claimed to be the harbinger of a new world order.
These fleets represented more than just ships and men; they were manifestations of an age-old struggle against the forces of harmony that Hiccup Haddock sought to champion. The disparate cultures found in this alliance reflected the depths of desperation faced by many, an urgency to reclaim their place on the world stage, where Hiccup's vision for a peaceful coexistence haunted them. The very ideology of cooperation among species — dragons soaring through the skies alongside humans — fueled the flames of their resentment and drove them to the battlefield.
Thousands of miles from the tranquility of the Scandinavian shores, the air thickened with tension as the commanders exchanged fierce glances and signals that conveyed their grim resolve. They were united, but perhaps not in purpose; their varied motivations simmered close to the surface, the undercurrents of discontent barely contained. Choppy waters mirrored the turmoil in their hearts, where trepidation lodged next to a burning desire for retribution.
As the shores of Germany emerged in stark relief against the muted brush of storm clouds above, a battle was on the cusp of being waged—not just for territory but for ideals. This clash would not merely determine the fate of nations; it could break the spirit of a burgeoning legacy that had dared to challenge the age-old cycle of rivalry and warfare.
The time had come. In a world longing for transformation, where division thrived on conflict, the alliance of malicious ambition bore down on its intended target. But as they prepared to strike, they remained blissfully unaware that their dogged focus on annihilating Hiccup and his kin would inadvertently forge the strength of camaraderie among those who would oppose their tyranny. In the crucible of war, new allies would rise from the ashes of camaraderie, igniting a fire far more powerful than they ever anticipated. The tides were shifting, as they often do in battle—yet fate, unpredictable and relentless, had its designs. The stage was set; what immense story would emerge from this moment?
Drago Bludvist, the embodiment of relentless ambition, stood resolute at the bow of his formidable flagship, The Conqueror. The icy wind whipped around him and sent shivers racing down the spines of men who served under his command, yet he stood unshaken, draped in his imposing Night Fury cloak—a garment that whispered of his deepest desires and darkest dreams. Each flap of the dragon-scaled cloak echoed his history, a reminder of the power he once wielded and the monstrous potential he was so desperate to reclaim. Bludvist was nothing if not a symbol of ambition, a man bred from longing and loss, and as his gaze cut through the horizon, steely determination etched itself onto his chiseled features.
The distant murmur of waves crashing against the hull of The Conqueror was nothing compared to the storm brewing within him. With narrowed eyes, he envisioned the fleeting image of Hiccup Haddock, Stoick's boy, the thorn in his side, and a beacon of hope for the very people he sought to subjugate. How could one individual, merely a child of the Viking legacy, challenge a force as formidable as his own? How could he stand against a fierce amalgamation of warriors so eager to rewrite the balance of power? Fueling his resolve was the image of the Night Fury's sleek form, a figure of unparalleled grace and strength where it once soared beside him in a triumphant dance of fury and fire.
In his mind, the promise of victory enveloped him. Once again, he fantasized about what it would mean to claim Toothless—the dragon that had once been a pivotal part of his past, only to be stolen from him by Hiccup's compassion and vision. The bond between them had been forged through trials, and spurred by that familiar mix of enmity and envy, he planned to create a legion of dragons, bending them to his will. His army would rise, powered not just by numbers but by the strength of dragons bred in the fire of conquest and determination, turning every creature into a terror of the skies. The thought alone struck a raw chord deep within him, a siren's call that beckoned with promises of dominion and the thrill of warfare.
As the murmurs of his crew faded into the background, all he could hear was the raging chaos of ambition at war with itself. What he wanted was not merely to defeat Hiccup, but to obliterate the very idea that such softness—friendship, cooperation, understanding—could be the foundations of strength. They were misguided; misguided and weak. Their dream of a harmonious world where dragons and humans lived as peers was foreign and foul to his mind, a concept he regarded with malign disdain.
With each pulse of the ship through the brackish sea, Drago's anticipation grew. The winds screamed in dissonance, and a peal of dark laughter bubbled within him as he crafted his strategy. His allies—the Northern Alliance, the remnants of the Dragon Hunters, the Samurai, and the Black Stone Legion—were unwitting pawns in his game. They all sought their agendas, yet they were merely tools to achieve his singular goal: to crush Hiccup Haddock and lay claim to the untamed power of dragons, which he deemed rightfully his.
Yet in that intoxicating vision of power, an unsettling notion grazed his conscience: That fire born of unity may burn brighter than his dark ambitions could ever extinguish. His vision overlooked the burgeoning camaraderie cultivated among Hiccup's followers, unaware that each dragon he sought to dominate also carried the flames of rebellion within them. Even in the most formidable of storms, hope could still ignite, challenging the very foundation of tyranny.
But on this brisk day, as battle loomed nearer, Drago cast aside that fleeting doubt. With a fierce scowl, he turned back to the horizon. The darkness of his cloak swirled around him like the impending shadows of war drawing close. His mind sharpened like the blade of a sword, a unifying sentiment forming in his breast—the certainty that he was destined for greatness.
Soon, he would sail into legends, and Hiccup, against all odds, would be cast down. The claim of dragons and dominion would be his, entangled in the chains of his absolute will. The waves beneath The Conqueror whispered promises of victory, and he would see them fulfilled. The drums of war began to beat, echoing the call of destiny. The era of Drago Bludvist was upon them, and his conquest would send ripples across history itself. The ashes of resistance, once unfathomable, would fall before him like bowing subjects, the harbingers of a new, iron-clad age.
"Father."
Looking over his shoulder to see his son approach in winter garbs, Drago turned back to the horizon and spoke up over the winds. "What news?"
"We have pushed the dragons who thrive in the sea to tow our ships without stop or rest: your Bewilderbeast, my alpha, and the Shellfires. However, because many parts of the sea were freezing over, many of our allies from the Muslim Coalition were left behind, as well as many of the Samurai of the Red Dragon Order. Their shogun, however, and a few hundred of his men are still among us, but the unforgiving weather has been cruel to his fleet, and his alpha, who has slipped from his grasp and fled, despite the efforts of his men who tried to keep it under control," Kjell then changed the subject, knowing that his father would hold no pity or care for those who couldn't keep up with him and his advance into the conflict ahead of them. "I have received word from the Roman price of Constantinople, who has killed his bloated animal of a father and has taken the mantel of Emperor of Constantinople."
Turning to his son, Drago raised a curious eyebrow, having heard of the Roman forces of Constantinople and how they had a most violent civil war which led to the exile of the rebel leader in command of many of the Roman legions of Constantinople. But if the emperor of the ancient empire was dead, and his son now taking his place, it could very well be another ally to persuade him to join his cause in destroying Hiccup Haddock and his people.
"I've received word from one of my spies in Constantinople," Kjell continued, "the new emperor and his legions have been marching to Germany to annihilate Hiccup Haddock and his people. And on top of that, I've also received word that the Christians of the Roman Catholic Church too are marching to destroy Hiccup and his people," The young Bludvist shook his head as he voiced his opinion on this. "I don't like this. Hiccup Haddock may be a formidable foe, but so many factions converging on one spot could lead to a battle of apocalyptic proportions, one that could lead our forces decimated and set our plans for world domination and begin a new order back by a lifetime."
Drago didn't say it, but he agreed with his son. However, he also couldn't ignore the possibility of uniting all of these forces as well and creating the largest coalition army the world has ever seen to see his darkest desires made reality.
Finally facing his son, the mad warlord finally spoke. "I share your concern, my son," he began with a rough gruff, "I know full well that these factions moving against Hiccup, those within our ranks, cannot be trusted. However, the Vikings represent a problem to all those allied with us. Hiccup Haddock and his people are nothing but thieves who raid and plunder, and in time, Hiccup's kingdom will expand thanks to the riches they have plundered and will grow more powerful, both in influence and reputation," shaking his head, he growled. "The fools who follow us do so because of the promise of wealth and their territories flourishing in my new world order. They are all nothing but a means to an end. But when meeting these Roman forces of Constantinople and Christianity, they would be fools to challenge the colossal number of men and dragons at our disposal."
Kjell listened intently as Drago then chuckled darkly. "But if we persuade those forces to join us, we will be further bolstered in men and resources, and our victory will be assured," wrenching his bullhook from the deck of his mighty warship, the warlord examined it before speaking softly. "If the Romans refuse, however, then I will finally end their ancient race once and for all. The fighting that will come will separate the wheat from the chaff, and when the time comes to face Hiccup and his people in battle, only the strongest of our numbers will remain, and we will crush the Viking people once and for all."
"As you wish, father."
A/N: As I said, I'm gonna wrap this story up very soon, so expect shorter updates. And the confrontations in the coming chapters will be action-packed. It's been a ride, writing this story, but again, my motivation to prolong it has been exhausted and I want to write other stories, mainly Star Wars. I appreciate your patience and understanding!