Hiccup's Point of View
The word Mama still echoed across the arena like a blade unsheathed.
And Luna—my Luna—stood in the center of it all, her claws glinting in the light, her killing intent smothering the air like smoke over a battlefield.
Freya wriggled in my arms, and I knew what was coming before she even took her first step.
"Wait—Freya—"
Too late.
She launched herself straight at Luna like a black dart, arms outstretched, aiming for a full-body tackle.
Luna didn't even flinch.
With a single graceful shift, she sidestepped the impact.
Freya landed flat on the ground with a soft thud and a groan, her arms sprawled forward, face half-buried in the dirt.
A long silence.
Then—"I almost had you," she grumbled.
Luna raised a brow, her expression amused.
I chuckled. "You look like a little gerbil trying to take down a thunderstorm."
Freya rolled over, crossed her arms, and pouted. "Mama cheated."
"No," Luna replied, crouching to look her in the eyes, her voice warmer now. "Mama has faster reflexes."
Freya stuck out her tongue.
Luna smiled, brushing some dust from her daughter's shoulder.
"Did you have fun playing with the Zippleback?"
Freya perked up instantly.
Mind-link active.
Yes! she beamed through the link, her thoughts flashing bright and fast. They're funny and fast and they made weird noises when I was on their back chasing the stupid teens!
Hiccup: You chased them?
Freya: Of course I did! They ran like chickens!
Luna turned her gaze toward the Zippleback.
Both heads looked away from her immediately, but not in fear—more like embarrassment.
Hiccup: Something tells me you two weren't exactly interested in the rest of the crowd.
Left head: The little fury is fun.
Right head: Much more than the soft humans. They screamed too loud.
Left head: They left when your voice broke the air.
Right head: We didn't chase them. It felt wrong. It felt... like we should be listening.
Luna: You did well to stop. I'm pleased.
The Zippleback swelled slightly with pride—then both heads lowered again, deferential but no longer shaken.
Freya looked back up at us, frowning now.
It was really fun, Papa. But...
Her mind darkened slightly.
I'm mad.
Hiccup: Mad?
Yes. Her thoughts slowed, sharpened. Because they hurt you. Because you were alone. Because this stupid village treated you like nothing.
She stood up, fists clenched again. Her emerald eyes were brighter than fire.
They treated you the same way they treated me. And they're going to pay for it.
I stepped behind her before the storm in her chest cracked wide open.
Gently, I wrapped my arms around her shoulders and pulled her close to my chest.
"I'm alright, my little Valkyrie," I murmured softly. "It's fine."
She didn't respond at first. Just stood there—vibrating with tension.
I leaned down, resting my chin atop her head. "Because I lost any piece of myself that cared about this pathetic village a long time ago."
She stilled.
And I smiled.
"Now," I said quietly, "the only things I care about are you... and my Luna."
Luna's eyes softened instantly. The killing intent around her faded like a tide pulling back from the shore.
She looked at me like I was everything.
Then turned her head to the bowed dragons around us.
"You may rise," she said calmly, her voice echoing like black velvet across stone. "You no longer have to bow."
The dragons rose one by one, slowly, respectfully—but not a single one took their eyes off her.
Even in peace, they recognized what she was.
A Queen.
My Queen.
Luna approached with slow, predatory grace—each step silent except for the faint clink of her claws, echoing like a death sentence in the wind.
She didn't smile.
Not yet.
Her eyes locked on mine. Still glowing. Still hungry.
"When," she said quietly, "were you going to tell me that you could sing like that?"
I didn't answer right away.
The truth clawed at the back of my throat, but for once... I didn't mind it.
"I hadn't thought about it," I said, voice low.
She tilted her head, expression unreadable.
I glanced to the side, toward Freya, who now stood watching us both—still bristling, still burning.
"I haven't sung like that in years," I said, softer now. "Not since I buried who I used to be."
My eyes found Luna's again.
"I forgot I even could. Because I found you. Because I found her. And for a moment... I forgot the sound of pain."
She watched me, eyes narrowing slightly—not from anger, but from understanding.
Then I turned, facing the chain dome and the cowards behind it.
And I let go.
My voice dropped. Cold. Detached.
Empty of humanity.
"I suppose I should apologize," I said loud enough for all of them to hear. "I forgot my manners."
I took a step forward. Just one. But it was enough to make the entire front row flinch.
"This girl—" I gestured toward Freya without looking at her, "—is my daughter."
Gasps. I ignored them.
"Some of you knew her as an orphan. Alone. Forgotten. Just like you left me."
Another step.
"Well, not anymore."
I bared my teeth, slow and sharp.
"She's mine now."
I scanned the crowd, my eyes gleaming. "And if anyone has a problem with that..."
Silence.
I leaned forward slightly, voice a whisper of rot.
"Step forward."
No one moved.
I smiled darkly.
"Because I will skin you alive. I will rip the flesh from your bones and feed it to the beasts of the forest. And I'll watch them chew."
The air was deathly still.
"And when they're done, I'll bury what's left of you so deep the gods forget your name."
More gasps. More fear.
I didn't care.
"You aren't people to me," I said calmly. "You're insects. And I'm tired of pretending otherwise."
I turned slightly, ready to introduce Luna, when she stepped forward first.
The sound of her claws dragging across one another sang like steel against bone.
Every dragon flinched.
Even Freya straightened, instinctively aware something was about to die.
Luna lifted her head and spoke clearly, her voice smooth and cold like black ice.
"My name is Luna."
Eyes widened.
She kept going.
"I am Hiccup's wife."
Shock rippled through the crowd like lightning through a corpse.
"His beloved."
She smiled then—but it wasn't kind.
It was the kind of smile you saw right before something leapt at your throat.
"I'll make this simple."
She stepped forward, her claws glinting like obsidian fangs.
"I hate Berk."
A pause.
"I hate what it stands for."
Another step.
"I hate what it produces."
One more step.
"And I especially hate what it did to him."
Her voice grew sharp.
"To my husband."
She took Freya's hand gently.
"And to my child."
Then her voice dropped to a hiss.
"So if anyone here thinks of trying anything—if anyone thinks they can whisper, plot, conspire—"
She smiled wider.
"You'll die."
Her claws clicked once, like the locking of a trap.
"And not quickly."
She turned to me.
And kissed me.
Hard. Brutal. Possessive.
There was no affection in it—only claim.
Only dominance.
Only truth.
When she pulled away, the arena was silent.
Everyone was staring.
Freya made a face.
"Ugh. Can you not do that in front of me?"
Luna smirked.
"You'll understand one day."
"Doubt it," Freya muttered, arms crossed, nose wrinkled.
I stepped behind her, resting my hand gently on her head.
"Maybe not," I said, voice still low, but lighter now. "But if you're even thinking about it..."
She glanced up at me.
"...you're going to have to wait for me to die first."
She gawked. "Papa!"
I grinned.
Luna chuckled, a rich, dark sound.
And as the dragons rose again around us, silence clinging to the villagers like a shroud, I knew one thing beyond all doubt:
They would remember this moment forever.
Because it was the day they finally saw what we were.
Not humans.
Not villagers.
Not victims.
But the king, Queen and Princess of death—and the storm that we will bring to this world.