Hiccups point of view
The salve had done its work. The Nadder's side still bore the mark from our first clash, but the wound had sealed clean, glossy beneath the herbal paste. She hadn't moved the entire time—not even when I sang.
She had listened.
Truly listened.
I stood, brushing my hands clean against my pants, and gave her a soft nod.
"You've done well," I said quietly. "You can rise now... if you'd like, you can even play with my daughter for a bit."
The moment I said it, something in the air changed.
I didn't hear it first.
I felt it.
A rush. A streak of shadow and heat and—
"Papa!"
I barely had time to brace before a black blur slammed into my chest.
I staggered back a step, breath knocked clean from my lungs, and instinctively caught her.
Freya.
Small, strong, trembling. Her arms locked tight around me, her cheek buried against my ribs like she was afraid I'd disappear.
I froze.
The last note of the song still echoed in my chest, but now... now it was matched by something warmer.
Something heavier.
She was shaking.
No—burning. I could feel it. Not from pain, but from fury.
And when I looked down into those bright, emerald green eyes—my eyes—I understood why.
The hate in her gaze wasn't wild or confused.
It was focused.
Feral.
Lethal.
I'd sung the truth—and she had heard it all.
Too much.
More than I intended.
I let out a shaky chuckle, stroking a hand down her spine. "I'm fine, little one," I whispered. "Really."
She didn't let go.
Didn't blink.
And so I spoke again, softer. Honest. "Because for the first time in a long time... I don't feel alone anymore."
I smiled down at her, brushing a hand through her hair as I leaned in closer. "I have you, my little Valkyrie... and I have—"
Thud.
The sound silenced the arena.
Not because it was loud.
Because it wasn't.
A soft impact.
But every dragon froze.
The Nadder's scales stiffened. The Zippleback dropped both heads flat to the ground.
Even the air stopped moving.
Because every creature here had just smelled it.
Alpha.
Night Fury.
Death.
Luna.
I turned slowly, and there she was—crouched on all fours, her human form as sharp and regal as the claws she wore.
Claws I forged for her.
Her dark hair spilled down her shoulders, and her eyes—those emerald mirrors of mine—glowed like twin suns in a winter storm.
She rose with slow precision, her weight balanced on the balls of her feet. Her shoulders rolled back, spine arched. Her fingers flexed once—claws gleaming like obsidian blades.
The dragons bowed.
Not hesitantly.
Instinctively.
One after another, scale by scale, they sank low to the ground.
Because they knew.
Not just what she was.
But who she was.
The Queen of the Alpha.
My mate.
My storm.
The villagers?
They didn't bow.
They couldn't move.
Every face behind the dome, every elder, every warrior—they all stood paralyzed.
Because the killing intent rolling off her was thick enough to crush bone.
Even I felt it.
The air was freezing, and she hadn't said a word.
My hand tightened on Freya's back, about to speak—
But then Freya beat me to it.
She turned her head toward Luna, and her voice rang out like a blade:
"Mama!"
Gasps. Dozens. Maybe hundreds.
The word shattered whatever illusion they were holding onto.
They thought I was alone.
They thought I was broken.
They thought I'd been caged.
And now here stood my daughter—our daughter—calling out to her mother, the creature every instinct in them told them to fear.
And me?
I smiled.
Not in pride.
Not in cruelty.
But in love.
Because the two beings I would destroy the world for... were finally standing before it together.
And this time, I wasn't alone.
Astrid's Point of View
There were moments that changed your world.
When your breath caught in your chest.
When something old broke—quietly—and something dangerous took its place.
This was one of those moments.
I had just watched Freya run into Hiccup's arms like a storm finding the sea. I'd seen his eyes soften. Seen the pain in her gaze. The fire.
And it already hurt—more than I'd expected.
Because that girl, that child, loved him with the kind of devotion I only dreamed of showing.
But I could live with that.
I could share.
Then I saw her.
Her.
A shadow fell over the arena—and landed on all fours.
She didn't make a sound.
She didn't need to.
Because every dragon bowed.
Not one. Not a few.
All of them.
Even the Nadder he had just healed. Even the Zippleback near the dome.
Their bodies hit the ground like they'd just met death—and were smart enough not to challenge it.
And the woman who caused it? She rose from her crouch like a serpent uncoiling, her long dark hair swaying as her clawed hands flexed at her sides. Her presence wasn't dramatic.
It was dominant.
Lethal.
And all too familiar.
Not because I'd met her before.
But because I recognized that energy. That aura.
She was the same as him.
Not in body.
In power.
She was his equal.
I felt something sharp twist in my chest. It wasn't just jealousy.
It was grief.
Because I knew.
The boy I'd loved—the man he had become—already belonged to someone else.
And I was too late.
She looked at him like he was her whole world.
He looked at her like she was his reason for breathing.
And then—
Then the girl—Freya—turned toward her.
And said one word.
One word that changed everything.
"Mama."
My heart stopped.
The girl wasn't just close to him.
She was his.
His daughter.
And that woman—that black-clawed, terrifying goddess of a woman—
She was her mother.
His girlfriend.
His wife to be.
My stomach dropped. My skin burned.
I looked down at my hands, trying to steady them. They were shaking.
I didn't cry.
I wouldn't cry.
But I hurt.
Because I could've been there.
I could've been the one.
If I had just been stronger. If I hadn't listened to my father. If I had chosen him back then—
Maybe I would be the one standing beside him now.
But I wasn't.
And yet...
Even through the pain... I still felt it.
The need.
The devotion.
The obsession.
It hadn't left.
It would never leave.
And the truth was...
I didn't care that he had someone else.
I didn't care if he had ten lovers, or a hundred enemies.
As long as I could stand beside him—even as second—I would be happy.
I would be enough.
He didn't even know I was here. Not yet.
But when he did...
I would tell him everything.
I'd tell him I never stopped loving him.
That I never believed the lies.
That I wanted to be with him—even if it meant sharing him.
Even if it meant bowing to the woman in black.
Because if that girl—Freya—was his daughter...
Then maybe I could be her second mother.
And maybe, just maybe...
I could still be his second wife.