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“Berk has never had a woman sit on the throne.”
Hiccup was frustrated. He could see Gobber’s point, but he wanted his daughter as his heir. She was kind and intelligent, someone who would be perfect to rule when he was… gone.
“That’s why I think now is the perfect time for it,” Hiccup said emphatically. He’d called the council to discuss his decision, (minus Spitelout.) He’d almost outright denied Spitelout his seat on the council on New Berk, but he also didn’t want to disrespect one of his father’s decisions, and a family member. Spitelout was his half uncle after all.
He realized that maybe not having Spitelout at this council was a mistake. He’d remembered all the things his father had told him about being heir, the dangers that went with it: one of those being that a lot of heirs had been killed by their successors. Spitelout had always wanted his family on the throne…
Fuck . Well, can’t do anything about it now.
“Berk is not always open to change,” Valka told him. She sat beside Hiccup. He usually didn’t sit in his throne during council meetings, wanting to make himself seem more equal to these people. And he was an equal. He did all the hard work that they did, got his hands dirty, did menial labor. What was the point of being chief if not working beside his own people?
“They have been recently,” Hiccup reminded her. “The dragons, traveling here, the-”
“Yes, but so much change so early may be difficult,” Sven interrupted. “The people will not like it.”
Hiccup tugged on his beard in irritation. He’d made many decisions his people hadn’t liked at first, but they’d come to like them, had grown used to it.
“They will adapt,” Hiccup said. He rose. “Look, Nuffink isn’t ready, and war is looming. He is behind Zephyr in age and schooling. Zephyr would make a fine chieftess.”
“Have you even discussed this with her?” Gobber asked.
Hiccup worked his jaw. No. No he hadn’t. He meant to once the meeting was over, once they’d made a firm decision.
“You haven’t,” Valka realized. “What if she doesn’t want the throne? There are dangers that come with it, Hiccup - dangers she may not be ready for!”
“She’ll learn,” Hiccup said. “As I had to. As all of our heirs and chiefs had to.” He knew what he was getting his daughter into. He felt bad doing it. It was like picking one of his children for slaughter, but as chief, he had to. He had to have an heir.
“She’s a fifteen year old girl!” Gobber cried. “She’s young!”
“And how many times was I made acting chief at her age?” Hiccup asked. “It’s time for me to choose an heir, and you all know that.” He leaned his hands on the table. “Th-this is… a difficult decision for me. I don’t want to do it.” He hung his head. He was allowed to show weakness in front of these people. Gods, he really didn’t want to do this.
Valka placed a hand over Hiccup’s, her touch warm, and Hiccup lifted his head to look at her. She nodded, giving her support.
“I think Zephyr will make a fine chieftess,” Valka said. She looked to the rest of the council. “Ultimately, this is Hiccup’s decision, but we must support him.”
Gobber nodded. “You have my support, lad.”
“And mine,” Sven put in after some silence. “But… what of Spitelout?”
Hiccup sighed, sat back down. “I don’t know.”
“He will still want Snotlout to be put on the throne,” Sven continued.
“He has no children of his own,” Hiccup said, knowing well that Snotlout was with Tuffnut. Hel, he’d been the one to marry them! “It wouldn’t be a wise decision.”
“Greed can often get in the way of wisdom,” Valka said. “I can speak with him, if you’d like me too.”
“I’ll think on it,” Hiccup said. He looked at each of his council members. “I think it’s time I spoke to Zephyr.”
Zephyr sat, nervously fiddling with her hands, trying her best not to pick at her nails. Her father had wanted to talk with her alone. They were in her bedroom, the door closed. What was going on?
“Zephyr-”
“Dad, have I done something wrong?” Zephyr got out at the same time as Hiccup spoke her name.
“No, no, not at all.” Hiccup took her hand, and she pulled in a deep breath. They were sitting next to each other on her bed.
Zephyr was close with her father, but she had been worried when he’d approached and told her they needed to speak privately.
“I want to discuss something very serious with you,” Hiccup told her, leaning down a little to look her in the eye.
Zephyr exhaled, long and shaky. “Okay. Is it… is it mom? The war? What’s going on?” Thor, she had so many questions! She hoped they would all be answered.
“Mom is fine,” Hiccup said, smiling a little at the mention of her. He was very much in love with her, and Zephyr could see that.
“So…?” She cocked her head, hoping for an explanation.
“There is no easy way to say this,” Hiccup said, expression sobering. He squeezed her hand a little. “I… I want to make you my heir.”
Zephyr pulled back a little, blinking in shock. That was not what she’d expected.
“But Nuffink… There has never been a woman on the throne of Berk.”
“No. And you will be the first.”
Zephyr abruptly stood, pulling her hand from her father’s. She had her back turned to him, not even sure what she was feeling. Heir to the throne.
“It comes with a lot of responsibility,” Hiccup said, still sitting on her bed.
“What if they don’t like me?” Zephyr asked. “Or want me?”
“They’ll adjust.” Now Hiccup stood, coming over to her. He put a gentle hand on her shoulder, but didn’t force her to turn and look at him. Zephyr appreciated that about her father. Nothing was ever forced from her by him. But this… this was different.
“Do I have a choice?” she asked.
“You and Nuffink could discuss it if you like,” Hiccup said. “I don’t want to force this upon your shoulders. Being heir is not easy. It’s hard, dangerous.”
Zephyr nodded. She remembered that a bit, when Gobber had been teaching them the history of Berk.
“It would paint a target on my back,” Zephyr said quietly.
Hiccup sighed, let go of her shoulder. She could hear him running a hand through his hair. “It would.”
“I don’t want that for Nuffink,” Zephyr decided. She turned to Hiccup, red braid swishing. “I don’t think he’s ready. His mind is often on other things.”
Hiccup smiled. “As was mine, at that age.”
“It still is,” Zephyr said with a smile, remembering how her father could just sometimes bring up entirely unrelated topics in conversation. With how speedy his mind was, he was able to make certain connections that others wouldn’t or couldn’t.
“That obvious?” Hiccup asked.
“A little, yeah.” Zephyr was picking at the nail of her right forefinger. She couldn’t help it. When stressed or anxious, she would often pick her nails till she bled.
“Ah, well, it happens to the best of us,” Hiccup said with a wave of his hand. His face grew serious suddenly, and he took her shoulders with both hands. “Zephyr, is this what you want?”
“Well, I wouldn’t want it for Nuffink,” Zephyr admitted after some thought. She loved her brother dearly. He had few friends, not really knowing how to get along with people, and he was clumsy and awkward, even though he took after Astrid and wanted to be a fighter. She couldn’t picture him on the throne, not because she didn’t love him or care for him, but because it would be too much for him.
But could she picture herself on the throne?
Hiccup waited, wanting her to finish her thinking, wanting her to give a genuine answer.
“I’ll do it,” Zephyr said after some time of trying to imagine herself in Hiccup’s raven throne. It was too big for her, but maybe she would grow into it. She would have to. “I’ll let you name me heir.”
Hiccup was approached in the market as he was taking Zephyr to be fitted for a dress for the ceremony. He’d kept the whole thing under wraps so far, didn’t want his people heckling Zephyr too soon or too much. She didn’t need that: she was already nervous enough about this whole thing.
But Hiccup was grabbed by the shoulder and yanked on. He spun around to find himself facing Spitelout. His hair and beard would have been all gray if not for dyeing it, but his age showed on his face. Gods, if only Hiccup’s father had gotten to that age.
“Chief, a word with you, if you will?”
“Doesn’t look like you’re giving me any choice.” Hiccup turned and gestured for Zephyr and Eret, (her newly appointed bodyguard), to continue on their way to the seamstress. Hiccup didn’t want his daughter hearing whatever unpleasant thing it was that Spitelout wanted to say.
“You’re coddling her,” Spitelout said, crossing his arms over his chest. “And heirs are not here to be coddled.”
“So you know,” Hiccup said. He grabbed Spitelout by the arm and pulled him aside into an alley, out of earshot of those in the street. “Who told you?”
“I’m not stupid, Hiccup. I knew what was happening when you didn’t want me at that council meeting.”
“And how do you know that she’s going to be appointed heir and not Nuffink?” Hiccup asked.
“Because you didn’t give her Eret as a bodyguard for no reason.” Spitelout suddenly poked Hiccup hard in the chest. “You’re making a mistake here, chief.”
Hiccup swatted his hand away, not happy with the touch.
“Oh, am I?” Aggression flashed in his eyes, undertones of it rolling on his voice. He’d known that Spitelout would never back him on this.
“You should put your boy on the throne,” Spitelout growled. “Not a weak-willed girl!”
“It’s my choice who I put on my throne,” Hiccup said lowly, trying to contain his anger. He didn’t want to get into a fight with Spitelout. Not here, anyway. “And Zephyr has a proper head on her shoulders.”
“She’s still a girl, Hiccup,” Spitelout intoned, aggression in his voice as well. “That throne is not meant for a girl. It never has been and never will be.”
Hiccup narrowed his eyes, nostrils flaring, hands balling into fists. “You’re just jealous that I’m not putting Snotlout there.”
“He deserves it.”
“And my family doesn’t?” Hiccup asked. “The Haddocks have been ruling since we first settled Berk, and that won’t change here on New Berk.”
“We’re family,” Spitelout said, tone softening, as if that would make Hiccup change his mind.
“ Half family,” Hiccup said. “I’d only put Snotlout on the throne if I had no children, but I do. He doesn’t.”
The mention of Snotlout not having children seemed to hit a nerve in Spitelout. He grabbed Hiccup by the shoulders.
“Are you calling my son unfit?!”
“No!” Hiccup cried. He broke free from his grasp. “I’m just saying that it wouldn’t make sense since he has no children of his own.”
“Then he can-”
“If you suggest me divorcing Snotlout and Tuffnut again, I’m going to be less happy with you than I already am. They’re happy together.”
Spitelout growled under his breath. “If you want a happy tribe, then you best consider my words. A throne is not built for a woman, nor a woman built for a throne.” He shoved Hiccup out of the way and walked past him. “Think on that.”
He left the alley, and it took Hiccup a moment to unclench his fists and his jaw, and even his breathing. Thor, he really didn’t like his uncle. He thought he could just pry into everyone’s business and make decisions for them.
Gathering his resolve and brushing off his tunic, Hiccup left the alley to go meet Eret and Zephyr at the seamstress’ shop.
Hiccup sat next to Eret as the seamstress, Arndis, took Zephyr into a different room to measure her for her gown.
“What did Spitelout have to say?” Eret asked. His voice was quiet, though they were the only ones in the shop.
Hiccup sighed, ran a hand through his hair. “He knows,” he said. He didn’t know if he had to explain more, if he had the energy to rehash what had happened in the alley.
“And?”
Hiccup shrugged.
“You don’t think he’s dangerous, do you?” It made sense for Eret to ask such a question. He was Zephyr’s bodyguard.
“Pfft, no! He’s just an angry old man.”
Eret frowned, but didn’t say anything against Hiccup’s words, though Hiccup knew that he wanted to. Spitelout had never liked Eret for being an “outsider”, despite Hiccup seeing him as a full member of the tribe. Eret saw himself that way as well. Most of the time.
It took some time, but Zephyr came out of the back room, holding up a bolt of cloth.
“Dad, do you think this would look good?” she asked. “The seamstress suggested silk for the ceremony, but, uh, I thought linen would do just fine.”
Hiccup stood, touching the bolt of green cloth. It was a nice, dark green. It would look good on her.
He was thinking though. Would linen or silk be best? Linen would make her look more, well, part of her people, but silk would set her apart, make it truly known that she was heir.
Hiccup pursed his lips, thinking.
“Go with linen,” he said. “The fur cape should be enough to show people you deserve respect.”
“I’m getting a fur cape?” Zephyr asked.
Hiccup nodded, letting go of the bolt of cloth. He gave Zephyr a smile. “And green looks very good on you.”
“Thanks, dad.”
Arndis, a stout woman in her 40s, came through the door. “Chosen what you want then, dear?” she asked of Zephyr.
Zephyr nodded. “I’ll have linen.”
Arndis frowned a little. “Are you sure?”
Zephyr looked to Hiccup, but he just gestured to her. Ultimately, it was her decision, and Hiccup could pay for whatever she wanted.
“Yeah,” Zephyr told her.
Hiccup dug out his coin pouch. “How much?” he asked.
Arndis shook her head, taking his hand and making him put the pouch back. “Hiccup, you’ve done more than enough to pay for this. You fixed my roof, you built my son a wheelchair… It’s on me.”
“Positive?”
“Yes, chief.”
Hiccup gave her a smile and patted her arm. “Thank you, Arndis. When will the gown be ready?”
“Give me two weeks,” she said.
“And you understand not to tell anyone of this, yes?” Hiccup needed to make sure. “I don’t want people knowing until I’ve announced it.” He glanced at Zephyr, who was picking at her nails again, an anxious expression on her face. “It could be dangerous for her.”
“I understand, chief.” Arndis gave Zephyr a little bow. “Best of luck to you.”
Zephyr flushed red as a tomato. She’d never been bowed to before. Most bows here were directed at Hiccup, and then, not even. Bowing wasn’t a thing that Berkians did, not when their chief walked and worked among them.
But this was different. Hiccup wanted to make sure that Zephyr was shown the respect that she deserved.
Snotlout was surprised to find his father at the door. He put his arm on the frame, trying to cover up the fact that Tuffnut was behind him in the kitchen, hurriedly pulling on a tunic. They’d been, well… making out rather heavily before the violent knock on the door.
“Dad, what do you want?” Spitelout didn’t usually come to Snotlout unless he wanted something. He favored his brothers over him, brothers that Snotlout wasn’t even close with.
“A word with you,” Spitelout said. He shoved past Snotlout and into the house. Luckily, Tuffnut had just finished fixing his clothes.
“I didn’t invite you in!” Snotlout snapped. He’d gotten more assertive with his father over the years, and that included telling him when he wasn’t wanted. (Which was most of the time, if he was being honest.)
Spitelout sat on one of the couches, and Snotlout mumbled a curse under his breath, closing the door behind him.
“There’s a big problem brewing here,” Spitelout said, sounding troubled. Snotlout gave Tuffnut a look, and the two came to sit.
Spitelout, however, stopped Tuffnut with a firm hand on his arm. “This is between me and my son.”
“Okay, and? I’m his husband. Anything you say to him, you can say in front of me.”
“Not this time.” Spitelout narrowed his eyes a little.
“Fine.” Tuffnut pulled his arm away with a huff, and then stomped his way up the stairs.
“Dad, what is it?” Snotlout asked, leaning in. “Is it mom? Is she okay?”
Spitelout waved a hand. “Your mother’s fine. This is more important.”
Snotlout frowned at the idea that something could be more important than the wellbeing of his own mother, but now was not the time for an argument about that.
“This is about the succession of New Berk,” Spitelout told him.
“Dad, I’m not taking the throne. Hiccup hasn’t chosen me as heir.”
“He doesn’t have to,” Spitelout said. “He’s… he’s giving the throne to his damn daughter!”
Snotlout blinked a little in shock, but it quickly made sense. It was unconventional - a woman had never sat on Berk’s throne - but this was Hiccup they were discussing. Hiccup was always unconventional.
“And you don’t like that,” Snotlout reasoned.
“Why would I?!” Spitelout cried, throwing out his arms, nearly hitting Snotlout accidentally in the process.
“Because Zephyr would make a good chief?” Snotlout asked. It was true. He’d helped raise Zephyr along with Hiccup and Astrid. All their friends had had hands in helping raise each other’s children.
“No,” Spitelout growled. “She wouldn’t. It’s not her place.”
“Dad, this is ridiculous.” Snotlout stood, pointed towards the door. “I’m not taking the throne out from under her. I want you to leave.”
“Fine.” Spitelout stood. “If you’ll stand for this nonsense, I’ll just find someone who won’t.”
It wasn’t long after Spitelout left that Snotlout ran to warn Hiccup.
“Hiccup, I told you this was a bad idea!” Astrid cried. Snotlout had warned them of Spitelout’s planned incursion, and was now sitting with them downstairs. Well, Astrid wasn’t sitting. How could she? She’d just found out that danger could come to her daughter and even her husband!
“And so I’m supposed to put a 13 year old boy who doesn’t want it on the throne?” Hiccup asked defensively. “What would you have me do?!”
“Wait until she’s older!” Astrid flung out her arms.
“I- We can’t!” Hiccup argued. “The war with the Whispering Trees is nearing, and there’s nothing we can do to stop it. What if…?” He looked down between his legs, at the floor. “What if something were to happen?”
“He’s right, Astrid,” Snotlout said, voice the most serious Astrid had ever heard it. “This isn’t something to wait on.”
Astrid looked to Hiccup, then to Snotlout; she sighed and sat down beside her husband. There was silence save for the fire crackling in the hearth.
She put her hand on his shoulder.
“I understand, Hiccup. I’m just scared for her.”
Hiccup looked to her, took her hand.
“It’s okay, Astrid. I am too.”
“So what do we do about my dad?” Snotlout asked. “He’s going to try to convince my brothers to take the throne.”
“They’ve never really wanted it,” Hiccup pointed out.
Astrid nodded in agreement. “We don’t know if any of them will even try to take it.”
“My dad can be very, uh, convincing,” Snotlout said. He would know that better than anyone.
“So we’ll keep a close eye out,” Hiccup said. “Eret will protect her.”
Astrid pursed her lips, thinking.
“What is it, Astrid?” Hiccup asked, noticing the expression.
“Shouldn’t we appoint another bodyguard along with Eret?” Astrid asked.
“I… I want to,” Hiccup said, letting go of her hand. “But then Berk would know too soon that she is to be my heir.”
“Well that’s stupid,” Snotlout said flatly.
Hiccup made a growling, sighing sound, running his hand through his hair.
“It’s the best we’ve got,” he said.
Astrid hated it, but Hiccup was right. They could do no more than what they were already doing.
“Should we tell her?” Astrid asked.
“Tell her what?” Hiccup asked. “You know how nervous she is. Telling her about an incursion that might not even happen would just drive her mad. She’d be looking around every corner expecting a knife.” He shook his head. “No, we can’t tell Zephyr.”
“Then we inform Eret, at the very least,” Snotlout put in.
Hiccup nodded. Eret, of course, would have to know about this.
Astrid just hoped that they were doing the right thing.
Zephyr couldn’t help the skip in her step. She’d just been to see Arndis, who had almost finished the dress a few days ahead of schedule. And it was beautiful! She loved it. Arndis had let her hold it up to herself in a mirror and take a look.
“You seem happy,” Eret noted, walking along beside her. Dusk made their shadows grow long.
“The dress was really pretty,” she told him. She doubted he would understand though, being a man and all.
Zephyr liked Eret, saw him as family, and was glad that he’d been appointed as her bodyguard. She felt safe with him walking beside her.
Though, thinking about why she needed a bodyguard ruined her good mood. Hiccup was afraid some of his own people would come after her. To think that when thrones and greed came into play that some couldn’t be trusted almost made her anxious enough to not leave her room… or at least the house.
But Zephyr didn’t want to show fear or give in to it. She wanted to show her true nature, be herself, pretend that there was nothing to worry about.
There were a lot of things to worry about though: not just her succession, but the looming war as well. The Whispering Trees had attacked Berkians on patrol and scouting missions, were taking and using some of their territory, and this encroachment was something Hiccup wouldn’t stand for.
The thought that something could happen to him though… That was why he was making her his heir now rather than later.
Zephyr was snapped from her thoughts as she turned down a side street with Eret, and was instantly pounced upon. She fell back to the ground, hitting her head and accidentally biting her tongue. Blood filled her mouth as she took in her attacker.
It was one of the Jorgensons, one of Snotlout’s brothers.
Zephyr screamed, blood gurgling up from her lips, and tried to get out from under him. He was much larger than her, had the advantage.
He put a knife to her throat, and Zephyr felt like her heart stopped.
The whole thing must have only taken a few seconds, enough time for Eret to take in the situation and respond. He pulled the man off of Zephyr, punched him hard in the face, then drew his sword. Zephyr remained where she was on the ground, trying desperately to catch her breath. She rolled onto her side and spit up blood, her tongue stinging horribly.
“How dare you!” Eret cried. He shoved the Jorgenson against a wall, put his sword to his throat. His other hand held the man’s wrist, keeping him from using the knife.
“She’s not fit!” he yelled. “She never will be!”
“Eret, look out!” Zephyr shouted, spotting another figure coming into the street. He didn’t go for Eret though, instead went for her.
Zephyr kicked and screamed as she was grabbed by the hair and dragged farther down the street away from her bodyguard. Eret and the first Jorgenson were battling for control over the other. She was on her own.
The man went to grab her by the throat, quite possibly to strangle her.
She bit him. Hard. He yelled, dropping her. She scrambled up to her feet, fists clenched, ready to throw a punch. She’d forgotten all about the knife on her belt that Astrid was making her wear.
“You’ll never live to be chief, little girl,” the Jorgenson growled at her.
Zephyr took offense to being called a little girl. A few more months and she’d be considered an adult.
“My dad will see you in chains for this!” she shouted.
Then she kicked him hard, right in his nether region. He doubled over with a yell, but managed to grab her as she turned to flee. She struggled hard.
“No, no!”
A knife flew past her, embedding itself in the man’s right shoulder. He screamed in shock and pain, let go of Zephyr, dropped to the ground.
Zephyr stumbled away from him and towards Eret, who’d thrown the knife. He took her into his arms, and she looked around frantically, wide-eyed, wondering what exactly had happened.
The first Jorgenson lay still save for the rise and fall of his chest. The second was down, hand clutching his wound, the knife still in his shoulder.
“Are you okay?” Eret asked.
Zephyr nodded, swallowed a little bit of blood, not wanting to spit it on him. It tasted sharp and metallic.
Eret took a furtive glance around the street, then let go of Zephyr and went to the man on the ground. He yanked the knife from his shoulder rather mercilessly, and Zephyr flinched at his scream.
“I’m taking both of you to the chief,” Eret told him. “You’ve committed treason against Berk.”
Hiccup was staring wide-eyed as Eret explained what had happened. They were in the Great Hall, a large building with dark shadows in the corners where the light couldn’t reach. Zephyr sat by his side, and he could feel her trembling. Before this, she’d never been in a physical fight or been attacked in her life. She wasn't battle-hardened like Hiccup or Eret.
"Get Spitelout in here," Hiccup ordered after hearing what these men had done. He nodded towards another Berkian. "And retrieve Gothi. This man needs healing." Hiccup wasn't just going to leave someone to bleed from a stab wound, even if they had attacked his daughter. He wasn't that cold.
As people scrambled to do Hiccup's bidding, he leaned into Zephyr and put what he hoped was a comforting arm around her. "Are you okay?"
"I... I... I don't know." She was picking her nails. One was bleeding and it looked like she'd tried to stop the bleeding on her tunic. She said it quietly, as the two men who had attacked her were still here. They were kneeling before the dais, hands chained behind their backs, Eret keeping close watch of them. Hiccup had his eye out too, though he doubted anything would happen now.
Hiccup didn't know what to say. He'd never thought he would have to comfort his daughter after an attempted assassination.
"Do you still want to go through with this?" he asked very quietly, almost directly into her ear.
Zephyr pulled in a deep breath. "I-I think so." She met Hiccup's gaze, and there was a determination in her eyes that reminded him so much of Astrid. "You've prepared me for the throne, all my life - and Nuffink too. I just... need to grow a little spine."
Hiccup laughed lightly. Oh, so much like her mother.
"Good." He squeezed her shoulder. "You're not alone in this, Zephyr. We'll get you through this."
The doors to the Great Hall opened, and Gothi entered. Hiccup didn't know how the old sage kept on, how she wasn't, well, gone by now. Must be some potion she was drinking.
She came over to the man with the wound in his shoulder, knelt by him, putting down her satchel.
"You think it's fair to give him treatment?" Eret asked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I'm not just going to leave him bleeding here," Hiccup said, maybe a little too harshly.
Eret looked like he wanted to say something, but kept his mouth closed. Hiccup was fine with that.
The Jorgenson man had his shoulder cleaned and bandaged by the time guards arrived with Spitelout. Luckily, he seemed to be walking in of his own volition instead of being dragged in.
"What's the meaning of this?!" Spitelout snapped.
"I would like to ask you that," Hiccup said. He stood, patting Zephyr on the shoulder before drawing his hand away. "Your sons tried murdering my daughter."
Spitelout looked aghast. Hiccup wasn't buying it.
"That's an outrageous accusation!"
"Then why did Eret have to fight them off?!"
"I did not order my sons to kill your heir!"
Hiccup was growing angry now. He balled his hands into fists. "Then why did they attempt it?!"
Spitelout made a growling sound behind his teeth. "All I did was talk to them," he said after some time in silence. "That's all."
"And what did you tell them?" Hiccup asked. Maybe he was getting close to an admittance of guilt. He was sure Spitelout had had a hand in all this.
"I only said that she would be your heir and that I saw her unfit." Spitelout crossed his arms over his chest. "That's all."
Hiccup stared him down. " Really? " He didn't believe him for a second.
"I, uh, may have said something about taking the throne for ourselves."
Hiccup shook his head. He almost wanted to laugh. All his life Spitelout had been trying to take the throne from the Haddocks. Now it had come to a head.
"Spitelout, you will be jailed with your sons for committing treason against Berk." He said it calmly, with a tiny bit of satisfaction. Finally, Spitelout wouldn't be left to go around scheming and convincing people to do things for him.
"And what of Snotlout?"
"What of him?"
"Will he be jailed too?"
"He had no part in this," Hiccup said, sitting back down. "He warned me about it, actually." He sat, waved his hands to the guards. "Take them away."
"This is completely unfair!" Spitelout cried as guards grabbed him by the arms to pull him out of the Great Hall.
"What's unfair is how you treated Zephyr!" Hiccup shook his head. He didn't have the energy to continue to argue with his half uncle.
Spitelout yelled something else as he was taken away, but Hiccup tuned it out. Instead, he looked to Zephyr. It appeared that she had stopped shaking, though she was still picking her nails. Another one was bloody now. Hiccup wished he could help her stop that, but he understood why she did it.
"You're absolutely sure about this, Zeph?" Eret asked.
Zephyr nodded. She glanced between Hiccup and Eret. "I am. I think I'm ready."
Hiccup gave a small smile. His daughter had his stubbornness.
"Alright," he said, "let's get ready for the ceremony."
Zephyr stood before the dais and her father's throne in her new green gown, a cape of white fur over her shoulders. The brooches that held it in place were made of silver, with designs of dragons etched into the metal. A tooled leather belt cinched in her waist, bracelets of silver decorating her wrists. Her hair was done up in intricate braids that her mother had done. Her grandmother had helped to get her ready as well. She'd been scrubbed down in the bath until her skin felt raw, but she felt new, clean, ready.
Hiccup stood beside her, and the people of New Berk were gathered together in the Great Hall, waiting, watching. Hiccup had called them here for an audience, but hadn't told them the purpose of said audience.
"Today, my daughter, Zephyr Haddock, will officially become my heir," Hiccup said, voice clear in the silence. "The throne and all the duty and power that comes with it will be hers one day."
People started yelling. Zephyr had expected that, but it still made her flinch a little. Hiccup put a hand on her back, and so she took a deep breath and lifted her chin. Yelling wasn't nearly as bad as attempted murder. She could deal with this.
"Please, please!" Hiccup raised a hand to quiet his people, and eventually the noise died down. "I know this is a change. Berk has never had a woman on the throne, but I think it's time that it did. My line will continue through my daughter. I have placed the succession of Berk in her hands, and you all must pledge to her. I will not be leaving the Great Hall until every one of you has accepted her as my heir."
Silence.
Then, Hiccup's friends were stepping forward, and they all took one knee in front of Zephyr.
"We pledge ourselves to Zephyr Haddock," Fishlegs said with as much sincerity as Hiccup had heard at his wedding.
Eventually, people began to kneel, copying the former Dragon Riders. Zephyr was just watching in awe. She hadn't expected this to work, but Hiccup had convinced them. Her father was truly stubborn.
Shouts of pledges to her filled the room, and Zephyr almost found herself blushing, not used to this much attention. Hiccup squeezed one of her shoulders, seeming to sense her anxiety. She wanted to look at him, but that would show weakness. So instead she looked to the people of New Berk, the people pledging themselves to her and kneeling before her.
Once silence reigned once again, Zephyr decided to speak. This would truly seal her succession.
"And I pledge myself to all of you," she said, voice much calmer and clearer than she'd expected it to be. Meanwhile, she felt a little bit like she was choking. "I will protect you, and work beside you." She looked to Hiccup to see if that was good, if she could continue, and he nodded.
"I am your servant, and a servant to the throne. Your needs will always come before mine, and I will take care of you, just as my father has done, and his father before him."
Cheering filled the hall. Zephyr was panting, smiling. She looked again to her father, and he smiled at her.
"Great job, Zeph," he said, leaning towards her ear.
"Thanks," she responded breathlessly. Then, she said something that was very much reminiscent of Snotlout. "When do we eat?"