This Is The Last Time (HTTYD)

Chapter Eighteen - Peace

"Your majesty?"

Nikolai silently cursed. "Don't tell me that was all a long dream." she croaked, regretting speaking when her throat stung.

"Your majesty please do not panic." a male voice walked closer to her. "My name is Nel Wod, I am the personal guard for Queen Bemila of Daventia."

"Bemila?"

"Yes ma'm. Bemila Trojas, youngest daughter of Ivan Joltrion Trojas."

"Okay." She slowly sat up, but her elbow buckled and she crashed back down.

"Please don't try to rise too quickly." Nel carefully approached her and helped her to sit up. "You've been without proper nutrients and water for a few days now."

She was about to ask what happened, when she remembered the battle before blacking out. "Nevermind, tell me that was a dream."

"It wasn't a dream."

It was worse than a memory. She could still feel her daggers slide right through Dagur's body. She should've known, it was too easy to take that shot. "How did you find me?"

"Your traveling companions who are in the Dracones Valley sent us."

She eyed him carefully. "And how did you find them there?"

"It's a long story." He shrugged, but her glare met his gaze and he sat down on the bed. "When you first left, twenty years ago, a wave of violence and unrest swept the tribes. Rulers were overthrown, generals and politicians accused of treason were executed, the same thing that happened in Moonlire happened there."

Abdication.

Assassination.

Nikolai stood on the edge of the throne room's north balcony, hardly imaging what she was hearing her advisors say.

Her general, Baer Starzt, was listing off the troops who had laid down their weapons and refused to fight. "Captain Maeyren say they have her tent surrounded, we were lucky to get her message."

"It doesn't make sense." she shook her head and pulled her thick Catazelan cloak closer around her thin fifteen year old body. "We are one strike away from winning the war. One. Take Monrides and their rulers and they have no other moves." She knew the entire map by memory after all the counsels of going over the exact plan. They all had to memorize it, because there was only one copy of the plans drawn up for security.

She and the other rulers and their generals had spent the past week in Daventia to plan this final attack. After years, the war seemed to at last have an end in sight. Daventia's aerial legion was going to attack Monrides for days while Suztest held the humans' troops at their border. Leiren's forces would attack Monrides as a diversion while Moonlire sent assassins to capture the royals.

But during one of the royal's weddings, which occurred as a distraction from their war planning, a rebel force attacked and she was immediately escorted back to Moonlire. But when she arrived home, she was immediately faced with the same dilemma.

Offered the choice of abdication or execution.

Assassination.

Abdication.

She couldn't figure out what had gone wrong. Moonlire was the furthest tribe from Jericht, the human continent, so it was possible to keep the war effort far from her people's expense. Through the battle planning she made sure to keep a steady economy, stable amount of resources, continuation of festivals, and being amongst the people to gain their support.