Opposition (A Httyd Fanfiction)

Chapter 12: Belly of the beast

(Hiccup's pov)

"Traitor!!"

"Offer him up as a sacrifice!!!"

"Feed his guts to Odin's ravens!"

I was met with boos and jeers upon arriving at the Welsh kingdom of Deheubarth, this was a Viking army that eclipsed all the armies I've fought throughout the years as King of Arendelle. As I gazed at the tens of thousands of Vikings cursing my name, I could see towering giants who wore the skulls of bulls and rams, seasoned warriors who survived more ordeals than any man could comprehend, women who craved blood and battle, and the leaders of this great army stood at the fortress gates. Heather had a leash around my neck as she then yanked the leash and forced me to my knees, causing me to grunt as I fell down on the muddy ground. "Behold! I bring you Hiccup Haddock III! Enemy of all Northmen!" The young Berserker boomed out, causing the howling mobs of Vikings to hurl globs of mud my way, but one of the leaders held his hands out, causing the Viking warriors to step aside.

Wiping off the mud that clung to my armor and skin, I looked up into the eyes of a Viking king who bore brands on his temples. He had long brunette, a short beard graced his stern face, his piercing blue eyes held the promise of violence and hardship.

"Do you know who I am?" He then asked, I eyed this man from head to toe while also studying the brands on his temple, I now know who he is. "You are King Torsten," I say, "your people are the Branded Brutes." Torsten chuckles and nods in confirmation. "I see you still know the many kingdoms and tribes of our people," his face then becomes stern, "and you have used the knowledge you have against our tribes and kingdoms to destroy us. Those days have now ended." Torsten gestured to not only the Viking warriors gathered, but also a woman who wasn't wearing Viking armor or clothing, her clothing was black leather armor and... a cloak of dragon skin was draped around her shoulders, it not only was black but also dark purple. "This is Maeve, leader of the Dragon Root Company," Torsten said, "she leads an army of Dragon Hunters to incapacitate all the dragons here in England and add to our own army of dragons."

Wait, what?

"What dragon army?" I inquired.

"To ensure our complete and total victory over your Christian brethren, we precured the very monster that has caused the dragons to ravage mother Norway for three centuries," Torsten then gestured behind him, "behold and wintess the Red Death!!" Two Dragon Hunters who held massive hammers brought them down on the stone ground within the fortress courtyard, all was silent for a moment. Then a thunderous roar was heard and the heavy pumping wings, emerging behind the fortress was a dragon the likes of which I've never seen before. The Red Death's head is heavily armored with a nasal horn, it bore coral-shaped frills, and with jaws that are lined up with huge teeth that were the width of Viking longboats. This... abomination also possess three pairs of eyes that give it little to no blind spot. Its coloration is mainly a grayish blue with an orange underside, and their enormous bodys sport coral-like spines as well as blood red spikes that give this dragon its name. It also sported a club-like tail that had spikes sticking out of every direction, it could be used as a devastating weapon to inflict massive damage. Despite this monsters gargantuan size, its wings are far more than large and strong enough to give the dragon a full-powered flight. And further more, this monster summoned thousands of dragons from within Helheim's Gate to unleash mayhem and death just like they've been doing for the past three centuries.

This was not good.

"With this beast and its subjects under our control? We will be rid of the Christians and clear a path for our people to start the next generation of Vikings," a man around my age said in a proud tone, "but not before we make you suffer beyond imagination for all the men and women who serve Odin and the Æsir you struck down throughout the last five years." This man was unfamilar to me, I narrow my eyes at him while ignoring his murderous glare. "I don't recognize you, who might you be?" He gave me a shark-like grin and answered. "Ivar Ivarsson, son of Ivar the Boneless," he then continued, "I hear you're a smart man, my father was smart too, as am I. When you meet your end and when we face the Christians meet us on the field of battle, I hope they'll not die too quickly since they'll no longer have you to lead them."