An Unwanted Proposal

It was winter in the Highlands, and snow fell softly upon the terrain covering everything in a soft blanket of white. Highlands were a majestic place; soft forests and shimmering lakes dotted the landscape given the land a mystic charm to it. And upon the cliff-side near the largest loch which shined against the winter's Sun was a castle to be seen by all that surrounded. It was an ancient thing built by the ancestors of its occupants; a proud reminder of the strength of the Highlanders. A reflection of their indomitable standing and a reminder to their foes of all that they had weathered. A reminder that they still stood proud against all that had been thrown at them and they hadn't fallen yet.

It stood proud over watching the shimmering lake, and within the walls of this fortress people could be seen scurrying about doing their tasks for the day. Many of the people within the walls of the castle were draped in the clothes of servants and maids. A few guards could be seen wandering the grounds; hairy and clad in tartan robes and kilts. Man had unkempt appearances and hair grew wildly from their heads; clearly they cared little for their own personal hygiene. In their hands many clasped spears or short swords, and may wore simple iron helms and ragged chain mail.

One figure stood out among the crowd of people; sliding through with a graceful ease. The figure was redheaded, and wore a simply green dress; something which could be seen as unbecoming of one of the girl's status. Her actions also clashed with that of a hesitation as when on of the kitchen's maids back was turned she quickly swiped an entire plate of pastries; giggling to herself over such a swift and easy steal.

And an apple for herself too.

With that the girl made her way up the twisting stairs of the castle and soon she could hear a thick, deep voice reverberate of the side of the walls. Among the walls the girl could see many tapestries that seem to tell a story of the occupants of the castle, and that of the battles that had occurred. She saw one huge redheaded heroic figure clasping a great sword, fighting against a bear-cloaked warlord armed with a hammer and a axe while two savage armies fought around them. The next tapestry showed the same heroic figure clashing against the axe of a viking chief. A collection of the achievements of the king of this castle. Made in times of victory over their savage foes.

And it seemed her father was telling the old war stories again, no doubt one of the ones she saw presented upon the tapestries of the castle walls. She was glad she got the pastries now as her brothers were most likely bored half to death, and would be in dire need of something to cheer them up. As while her father's stories were riveting there were only so many times you can bellow 'then I cut off his head!' before it became boring.

Speaking of which, the girl entered the dining hall and glanced at the figures sat at the table. At the end was a giant figure; the man was broad and tall, he wore green and red tartan robes over a coat of chain mail. His face was craggy and weather beaten with ice blue eyes which sparkled under thick eyebrows, thick red hair crowned his skull. One of his more distinctive features was the lack of the leg leg - which had been replaced by a knobby peg leg.

Next to him sat a woman of regal beauty and grace; she had brown eyes and very long brown hair, extending nearly to her feet in length. A gray streak runs through the right side of her hair, which was arranged in two pigtails, fastened with gold ribbons that are wrapped around all the way to the bottom. She was a slight, slender woman - a stark contrast to the giant of a husband next to her. And she wore fitted silk and embroidered emerald green dress with a dark green under dress.

And next to her sat three boys are identical appearance. Each three had fair skin and red curly hair as well as the exact same tartan robes which were held up by leather belts, and even the same boots.

As the girl entered the large figure was currently bellowing a story, seemingly unaware that no one else present didn't care much for it.

"And so there stood the Baergut Tyrant, at least seven feet tall with one long hammer clasped in one hand and a smaller but no less savage looking axe in the other," the warrior bellowed waving a piece of lamb like a sword. "Draped across his back was the skin of the biggest bear you ever did saw! And from the tyrant's waist hung the crowns and weapons of fallen kings and even warriors I knew of my youth."

"His body was marred with the wounds of dozen battles," the man had continued, not noticing that one boy was asleep, while one played with his food. The third boy waved his fork in perfect imitation of the figure; matching the actions of the storyteller in perfect synchronization. "His face was fierce and violent, a thick dark beard braided in bone and a face scarred with one dead eye and drew me trusty clay-more and -"

"Slash! Da's leg was broken clean off," the girl said jumping between the boys, startling all present, and one almost fell off his chair in shock. "And chop! Mor'du's head fell clean from his shoulders!"

"Aw," the man complained jokingly, "you ruined me favorite part, Merida!"

Merida giggled but didn't stop as she playfully prowled around her father and as she prowled past her brothers she slide them the plate of pastries. "Some say that the Baergut Tribe has not forgotten what the Clans of the Highland have done, stalling their plans for conquest of both the Highlands and the Wilderwest. And that the Sons of Mor'du await the day to take their revenge for the death of their bloodthirsty sire!"

She punctuated that statement play playfully snapping at her father who simply chuckled at that display.

"Let them come and take their prize if they can," her father stated defensively, "I'll serve them the same justice I did their foul father, and little more on the side if they try and hurt my people. We'll see them off if they ever try again, ain't that right Elinor?"

"Yes Fergus, sweetie, whatever you say," the woman addressed responded, not even looking up from the various pieces of paper she was examining.

Fergus simply rolled his eyes at Merida who giggled, before taking her bow off her shoulders and placing it on the table. Her brothers pushed against one and another to get a closer look at the bow. While all Elinor could do was sigh irritability.

"A lady should not be placing her weapons at the table, I thought we discussed this." Elinor chided, though she still did not look up from her letters.

"Ah, leave her be lass," Fergus said, waving one mighty hand. "These are treacherous lands and knowing how to defend yourself is absolutely necessary skill."

Merida giggled as her father winked at her while Elinor simply harrumphed to herself.

"It was is unbecoming of a princess to have such weapons," Elinor stated. "If you asked me I'd say that a princess such as yourself should have no weapons at all."

"Ma!" Objected Merida in annoyance. "It's just my bow, the one Da gave me."

"It has no place at the dinner table, not among all these letters of alliance." Elinor replied.

"Alliance?" Merida said, turning to look at her father who caught himself mid-chew of the lamb leg in his hand.

Elinor herself paused as the realization of what she said began to sink in as she noticed the curious expression on Merida's face. She turned to the three twins, who looked back at her with a mixture of fear and uncertainty - a reflection of Merida's own expression. Elinor simply sighed and looked at Fergus.

"Better now then ever I suppose love," Elinor said looking at her husband, "feel free to let her know."

While Fergus simply choked on his flagon of water spitting out a veritably waterfall in shock of what his wife had just asked him to do. Elinor sighed once again before looking at the princes.

"Boys you are excused." Elinor said evenly, though it sounded more of an order.

The three boys quickly leapt away from the table taking the pastries that Merida had swiped for them away. Fergus looked as if he was to go too but a sharp glare from his wife soon quashed any such ideas.

"Yes Merida an alliance," Elinor said matter-of-factly. "You are aware of Stoick the Vast are you not?"

Fergus growled to himself at the mention of that name, while Merida simply nodded.

"Him and the other Viking chiefs attempted to invade the Highlands when I was a lass after Mor'du managed to rouse them all up. It was when Da' was chosen as High King," Meirda said confused turning to her father. "What's he got to do with this?"

Fergus merely looked away while twisting his hands nervously, Elinor could only stared in amazement at how her husband was skirting around the issue. The king that united the Highlands had difficulty in telling his daughter this simple thing. Elinor sighed to herself before to turning to Merida with bright eyes. And Merida found herself more concerned as her and her mother have very clashing interests.

"He's proposed an alliance between our two peoples," Elinor said, excitedly.

"Aw now Elinor, lass, have some tact -"

"And has decided that such an arrangement can be sealed in a marriage." Elinor finished bulling over her husband's protests and sighs.

Merida looked as if she been smacked in the face, she could only glance around the room in confusion and anger. She suddenly felt all the air knock out of her, and looked around in a almost drunken stupor as the full realization of what was going to happen to her sunk in. Fergus winced at her expression; fully knowing that this was going to lead to a very explosive outcome from his daughter. Elinor for her part seemed more confused then concerned.

"Really Merida I don't think you understand how important such a marriage is." Elinor argued.

"To a viking!" Exploded Merida in anger. "I'm marrying a viking, why not go one further and have be a Baergut!"

"Merida that is enough!" Elinor said rising from the table. "You do not understand what is at stake, furthermore this what you have been training for your entire life!"

"No it's not!" Merida roared back rising from the table. "Is what you been telling me, ordering me to do! Well I'll have no part in it, you can't make!"

With that Merida grabbed her bow and began stomp her way out of the dining hall, roaring in anger at her mother's decision while Elinor could only glare back in anger at her daughter's childish outburst. Fergus for his part simply stared at mountain of food on his plate.

He'd suddenly lost his appetite.

Meanwhile across the Northern Sea the other half of the marriage proposal was to discover his fate. His location was found upon a scraggy island in the middle of the frothing ocean and frozen glaciers, the island itself was less an island and more a collection of massive rocks that rose to the sky land the hand of some fallen giant.

The island was barren and sparse of vegetation and the only sight of life what that of a small harbor village that was found on cove that broke the fortress-like shores. The village spread up the side of the island where that was enough grass to keep the livestock and around the sky of the island all manner of birds flew about the island.

The people of the island were all large individuals; tall and muscular, both the men and the women. Many were draped in various fur to keep themselves warm against the howling winds, while many were draped in armour; many of which were scarred from raids and battles - more often against their fellow vikings. Many men had thick beards and the colour of hair ranged from fiery red to dirty blonde to a pitch black. Beards were braided thickly while the women had their hair braided in a complicated manner.

Among them however was one who stood out like a dragon among a flock of sheep. Where many of his fellows were broad and strong, he was small and slight. An unsure individual who seem to jump even at his own shadow. The young man's hair was a auburn shade and his eyes glowed a bright green. He wore a bright green shirt and over that a fur vest along with a pair of large boots.

He scanned the assembling vikings with a sense of dread; as it meant something was happening that he was not aware of. And that very much worried him; as it could range from a simple meeting to the tribe getting ready for a full-blown war. And with the plague of dragons attacking, the Hooligans of Berk could do without war.

With that the young man made he way to the one person he could tell them where the tribe's leader was, and so he made his way through the crowds of vikings. Doing his best to ignore the occasional glance of annoyance by his larger peers. He quickly found the blacksmith, having spent a lot of his own free time there and walk inside, looking for the owner of the smithy.

"Gobber!" He yelled, his voice shrill compared to his fellows. "What's going on?"

With that a large middle-age man made his way to the young man. He was almost twice the size of the young man but seemed slightly hunched due to said size. He had bright blue eyes, and blonde hair however none upon his head. The only sign that he had blonde hair was due to his unibrow and wiry mustache that hung from his face. He wore a simple metal helm which was topped with two horns and a simple yellow shirt, with a black vest over it.

However one thing that singled him out among the vikings was the fact he was lacking an arm and a leg, that and the fact he had replaced one of his teeth with a stone. His right arm was currently a prosthetic with a hammer upon while his left leg was a simple peg leg.

"Hiccup," he cried, his voice was coarse. "What's with all the fuss?"

"You tell me," Hiccup responded. "What's everyone moving about for?"

Gobber's brow creased in confusion as he looked at Hiccup. "Your dad hadn't told you?"

"Told me what?"

Before Gobber could answer another figure had appeared with the blacksmith, one that was so large that he made the space feel rather small. The figure was a big man, with green eyes and red hair. Like almost all viking men of Berk, he had a very muscular figure that intimidated those who cross his path. If you looked at his face long enough you would notice the freckles, and his red hair was braided at the back. This trend of braiding carried on his beard which was intricate in it's many strands. His attire consisted of a large fur cloak draped over his shoulder, a chainmail tunic with striped trousers and fur boots. He also wore spiked braces over his wrists.

"Hiccup," the figure said, his voice as deep as the ocean. "Son I thought I'd find you here."

"Hey dad," Hiccup muttered awkwardly.

"Son." came the equally curt response.

Gobber looked between the pair as a standoff of awkward silence insured. He sigh to himself before gesturing to Hiccup.

"Hiccup here is happy to see you today Stoick, but finds himself confused over what is happening. And he was hoping that you would care to tell him." Gobber said to Stoick. He then turned to Hiccup and said, "Stoick here has been running up and down the island all day to find you. But in true Hiccup fashion you disappeared again but now that he's found you he can now let you know."

With that Gobber gestured to the pair to continue the conversation that he'd laid the foundation of as he made his way to leave the blacksmith. As he left he simply placed his head on a wall before sighing to himself and making his way to help the others with the preparations. Gods what would they do without me, Gobber thought irritably as he made his way down to the crowd of vikings.

Back inside the blacksmith Stoick and Hiccup stared at one and another in confusion in what just happened, both were unsure on how to continue the conversation. Before Stoick simply sighed before looking down sharply at Hiccup. Which caused the young man to gulp in fear.

"Gobber was right, I've been scouring the village yet unable to find you. Where were you?" Stoick questioned.

"Hunting trolls?"

A somewhat wry smile came at that but it was quickly quashed by the stern expression which replaced Stoick's face. "Hiccup these are trying times, the village has little allies and the dragons swarm us weekly."

"I mean with have some friends right?" Hiccup said, confused to where this conversation was leading. "Oswald… and some others?"

Stoick shook his head. "Not enough. While Berserkers are a great ally, they are not enough. Especially given the sea of enemies we find ourselves trapped in; Alvin is likely plotting away and I've heard rumors from Trader Johann that the Baerguts are once again swarming out of Black Crag causing mischief. Which is why I extended to the Clans of the Highlands. To settle some of the old grudges."

Now that did surprise Hiccup, especially given the enmities of the past between the two peoples of Highlands and the Wilderwest. It also worried him as given the conduct of the Highlands he knew what an alliance would need to set it in stone.

"And as such a deal will have to be sealed in marriage. It's not the price I'd wanted to pay but that's the way of things, Fergus has a lass a similar age to you so it just seemed to fit." Stoick explained.

"Thanks for getting my opinion on the matter dad." Hiccup said softly to himself.

Stoick's brow creased but he placed his hands on his son's shoulders. "C'mon Hiccup this is your chance to do something for the tribe. Bringing peace for generations, why vikings are unlikely to forget the name Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third because of this."

Hiccup weighed up the pros and cons of the situation that he had now found himself trapped in. On the one hand he had to marry princess who was very much as unwilling as he was and probably kill him in his sleep. On the other, like his dad said, perhaps he would gain some respect from the tribe for his 'sacrifice' though he very much doubted that. He was stuck between the hammer and the anvil with no way out, guess he'd have to ride this out until the end. Straightening himself up Hiccup looked at his father with faux-courage.

"So when do they show up?" Hiccup simply sighed before giving his father a slight smile.

"That's my boy! Not long, couple more days. So we'll have to get you all ready for your princess." Stoick rambled off.

As Stoick began to list the remaining preparation to get the island in some form of manner for the visiting Highlanders he paid his son little mind. Unaware of the crestfallen expression that had come across his son's face as well as the pit of fear that had made its way into his stomach.

A/N: Hello everyone and welcome to Tensions of The Past; a HTTYD/Brave crossover story. This has been a small idea which has been brewing for sometime and if you couldn't tell I have changed some of details of the respective movies. I also thought I'd throw in some book references and make the Northern Invaders of Brave into the Vikings of Berk.

Hope you all enjoy, don't forget to drop a review and have a good one!