Berk hummed in peace.
The air is filled with the soft whistle of the wind, and as the pyres of their fallen warriors drift across the sea. All of Berk bowed in thanks. Acknowledging and commemorating the sacrifice that many had made.
Borin's own wife, Betthy and her son Eron turned as the last of their beloved's flames flickered and his boat claimed by the gods through the sea. Betthy sniffed and swallowed the lump in her throat but as soon as she saw Hiccup, her heart melted.
The boy stood by his father's side, shedding tears next to the stoic Stoick. And when his eyes wandered to them, he sent a bow their way. Slow, to show he was mournful, and shallow in acknowledgement of her husband's valor.
It was a small gesture, but one that struck gently at their hearts. Reminding them that their beloved's sacrifice was not in vain... never in vain.
The funeral went as it did. A silent clamore for the send off, but as families received condolences, many of the warriors did not miss the look of pure gratitude and respect that their families sent Stoick's heir.
And when night came, the world seemed to flip on its head. The silence was shattered as people celebrated in merry. Letting loose loud cheers in honor of their people's courage and triumph. The quiet mourning was replaced with a feast. That was on its way through the night as more and more tales of the battle spilled. Shedding light to the chaos that was the bloodiest raid they had ever faced.
The Great Hall was now filled with long tables and barrels. With freshly cooked meat and mead filling the air. The people clamored at the recently cleaned hall. Each forgetting -even for a moment-the pain of loss, eager to connect to their fellow Berkians.
People sought to celebrate in merry. In cheers of their people's courage and triumph, more and more tales of the battle spilled as drinks were passed and spilled. Shedding light to the chaos that was the bloodiest raid they had ever faced.
Men talked of their struggle. One where a shepherds son had to use a shield to bash a man's head in. A builder spoke of grabbing ashes and embers to swat it against an Outcast's eyes. Another spoke of rolling a catapult boulder atop two men, while a farmer told of cutting ropes that held a support beam, dropping it down on an enemy chasing him.
They cheered. They roared. And even laughed at the the few who complained about being bashed by the helm by an ally.
The Great Hall of Berk, cleaned and slowly afixed with what history remained. Was set alighted with laughter. Lifting the dark veil through the night.
But there was one tale all were eager to hear.
"And as Fjorn screams at Borin's courageous sacrifice! Our young Master Haddock! Rushed in! Sword drawn- and Cut Off the beast's Horn! Setting our Brother Free!"
"""""YYAAAAAHHHH!"""""
"He was then thrown off! Back cracking against the pillar! But Falric did not waver! Dagger planting against the Demon's Neck! Blood Spilled and the monster screeched into the Night!!!"
"""""HOR! HOR! HOR! HOR! HOR! HOR!""""" the vikings chanter as they banged their wooden pints against the tables.
"And with Strength! Not of just of body, of mind! but of a Warrior Spirit!"
*Bam! *Bam! *Bam! *Bam! *Bam!
"He passed his sword with grace, it's Dragon Edge! landing, glinting, and singing into Fjorn's waiting hand! And with a toss of his Dragon Shield! Stunned the beast! As our brothers Falric and Fjorn finish the Creature!"
*Bang! *Bang! *Bang!
"To the salvation of our kith and kin! The guardians of our last stand! Witnessed by the very stones of History! To the Defenders of Berk! To Glory be thy Name!!"
"""""YEEEAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!"""""
"Sing brothers and sisters! And may our Gods hear our call! To Valhalla!!!"
"""""To Valhalla!!!"""""
The cheers of the Great Hall echoed throughout the village. Children and mothers clapped in enthusiasm, while warriors banged their feet against the stone floor with their tankards raised or bashed against the wooden table.
All smiled in honor with sadness, loss, courage and valor, celebrated as they felt in their hearts how their brothers and sisters had earned their way into Valhalla.
Amidst it all, sitting at the High Table. With cheeks flushed and slightly crouched sat Hiccup, embarrassed at the attention with his childish attempt of facing it.
And with a slap at his back, the boy straightens and turns to the man himself. Stoick smiling widely from ear to ear with unshed tears shining from his eyes.
—.—.—.—.—
Three months later.
Life slowly returned to normal. Berk has more than rebuilt itself but also begun preparations for future conflicts.
That same day, trouble made itself known.
News reached the village that the last Dragon Raid had been two moons ago. That alone was a bad omen in winter days, for Berk had known Dragons for generations. Their war had been etched into their bones. Bones that felt rattled with a gust of wind, as if a foreboding feeling slowly made itself known.
And all looked to Stoick to lead them.
Said Chief could be found sitting on his home, faced with two guests. Halvard and Sigrid Hofferson.
Bustle filled from outside, the soft noise pouring through the open windows.
And amidst a bear carpet, a crackling hearth and three chairs –one of which looked like a throne– sat three people who could only remain impassive in the weight of their conversation.
"I was not expecting this..." Stoick whispers.
"Aye..." adds Halvard. "...neither did I. Not in my lifetime at least but that is exactly what we came here for. It has happened. There is no denying it. And it is now harming my people... my family. I am asking too much of ya' Stoick. But I need this-"
"We! Needed this." Sigrid interjects. "Please Chief. Protect us..."
Silence reigns. Stoick looked to the fire in thought. 'Three goats and a yak'. Not a bride price worth the daughter of a warrior clan, let alone the daughter of it's head of house, a potential Heiress. But that was the latest insult to House Hofferson. Three goats and a yak for Astrid's hand. Offered by a lowly merchant from some far-away southern soil.
And as Chief, there is little he could do about it. Fact of the matter is, theirs was trouble earned by marred reputation.
For the second time... Flynn Hofferson has failed to slay a dragon. Made worst by the death of those under his command and even worst when it was his son who had to pick up the slack.
To speak against the claims about his cowardice and failure is to speak against his son's achievement. That's not including the damage that will fall upon their name should he be called out as a liar. And from there, things will spiral downwards. All because he defended Flynn Hofferson.
Too many was saved by his son, and many were lost to Flynn.
And should his people no longer trust the very clans that defends them, should their doubt ever turn on each other... then Berk will fall.
Stoick felt his breath slowly leave him. He could see the fog in his breath, the shimmer of cold against his hand. Winter was coming and yet... the fire rattling his bones warned him of their enemy. He needs them. He needs all the men he can get.
"Three generations." Stoick said. "Three generations for Berk."
Sigrid and Halvard tensed, the woman was already shedding a tear at the cost. But Halvard was not deterred.
"One generation." Halvard counters.
"Two." said Stoick
"One Stoick. One! Generation of loyal warriors. I will not barter my grandchildren's lives before they were even born. One or I will take mine own elsewhere."
Suddenly, a cold breeze blew in. "Go ahead." Stoick said. As if his words were the very ice in the wind.
And in the tense silence, cold gripped them. Through their clothes, their skin and pinpricks of winter in their hearts.
Halvard looked down in defeat. Pain evident in his face of the predicament he had found himself in. If a merchant views his family with such price... what of the more traditional viking tribes in the Wilderwest?
Sigrid sobbed, her heart aching at the price to be paid for value in their own lives. And with a heavy heart, her head leans heavily against her husband's shoulders. Crying at the thought of their future.
"One Stoick... and... Astrid."
Sigrid bit down a wail of pain at the words. Gripping her husband's arm with as much anger and hurt as she could.
"Flynn must be punished." Stoick adds coldly.
"... yes. His punishment, I leave to your judgement."
He was resigned. He could no longer do it, to defend his brother's honor. Not when the rest of his clan, his cousins, nephews and nieces... his family is becoming the cost.
"Very well. We have a deal."
"....what do you plan to do?" Halvard asks.
"You'll see. First, we bring the two children here ."
—.—.—.—.—
At the new make shift hall at the edge of the village.
Twenty pillars standing strong, each as tall as two men and as wide as one. Thick wooden logs strapped together made up the walls with windows at the top for smoke to escape.
It has wooden planks for floors set around a bonfire at the center. With a raised dais at the back of the hall and three long tables at the north, east and west side of the hall.
The Hofferson Hall, newly built for one purpose, to house Hofferson families who had yet to rebuild their homes. Now used to house their gathering as news was presented upon their kin, all fourty souls of them.
"Traitor!" shouted one.
"We have done enough to earn our place! Why should we barter for more!" yelled another.
"You cannot do this Halvard!"
"I won't let you sell my child!"
"This is madness!"
Chaos erupts as members of House Hofferson screamed their hearts out. The problems were laid before them. The terms and the promises. But to the rest,not all are as clear cut and dry.
After all, it wasn't their families who failed to defend Berk but Halvard's own.
"Enough!" *Bang!* shouts Halvard as he bashed his tankard down the table. "You think I like doing what I did? I did not! What I did! I did for our survival. For our family!"
"Your family! Not mine, not when you barter my children for your brother's failure!" screams one his cousins.
A chorus of agreements filled the hall.
"I refuse to accept this! Generations worth of our blood! Our kin! Spilled in the defense of this home! And this is what we are given? Punishment? For something g we did not commit!"
"""Aye!!!"""
"You better give me reason to stay Halvard or I will take my family with me!"
Dissent exploded. The dissatisfaction was so great that Halvard could feel it in his bones. But he did not back down, not when he knows he was in the right?
"Then leave." he stated. Slowly in a pass of seconds, the noise was diluted to whispers. "And where will you go? Huh?" he challenges.
And with the flinch of a few, Halvard was emboldened. "What other place is there for us?"
"The Bogs? They'd take our wives and daughters and send our men to the farms. The Berserkers? If a merchants sees our value as sheep what more of them? Fodders for their warriors? The Thugs hate our guts and would cull our hierarchy just by setting our toes in their lands... Or maybe you'd prefer the Murderous? Huh?"
Silence was his people's answer.
"I know! I know how bleak things look now but we have always risen from whatever fall! For hundreds of years! Have we not done so!?"
""""Aye...""""
"...I know... that it is my family that had wronged ya'. Which is why he will be punished. Mine brother will be punished." he said. But his words were received by scoffs and dismissals, with none agreeing to his words. Until-
"Flynn Hofferson! Will be punished by Stoick the Vast himself."
The Hall quieted down in an instant, slowly dwindling to whispers. The clan suddenly burst to curious stares as they looked to their Head of House. They are after all well aware what it means for a Clan to hand over jurisdiction over their own kin to their Chief.
And while to most it was surrender, to the people of Berk and their history within it. It would be a sign of Loyalty. One their Clansmen could clung on to.
Bathed in curious stares, Halvard continues with his explanation. "The two children had just been informed of this. Astrid, my daughter... is to be shield maiden to Hiccup Horrendous Haddock of Berk. And my brother's punishment... shall be met out by his son aswell."
Some of the men looked sceptical, but a few words from their children and wives reminded them of their tales. Of the battle against the Demon of The Great Hall. Approval slowly rose from the few, the rest -though sceptical- turned neutral and resentment vanished all together.
Again Halvard felt a pang of envy. Seeing the boy's reputation bleed even further and weigh greater than he initially thought. Shaking such thoughts away, he finishes-
"Then we are in agreement."
"""""Aye."""""
"Good."