This Is The Last Time (HTTYD)

Chapter Fourteen : The Stain of Ashes

It was a relief to see land again, and he was almost ready to jump off of the flying deer and onto it, yet he made himself wait until the deer had landed and walked several feet from the edge to climb off.

"My lady." The man who bowed, looked extremely short next to the elven guards that stood at least eight or nine feet tall. His platinum hair was plastered to his scalp with hair gel and although he had a healthy figure, the buttons over his chest strained to escape the material's grasp.

Stoick grabbed his sword instinctively and was about to unsheath it, when a heavily accent voice ordered him not to. Where Ingrid was supposed to be standing, an elf with flames whisping around her bare arms glared down at him. Her eyes had turned to slanted slits, with thick eyelashes that had flecks of orange and red in them and on her eyelids. Her face was slender and seemed angled at the perfect points, starting with her ears that extended to almost the length of her head.

The small man looked appalled at the Berkians. "You brought humans?"

The lf gave a cruel smile towards Stoick, and his gut told him to run. "Zhu shuki kesacalaketzu." the man seemed pleased with whatever she told him. "It's time to put our planz into axion. Tventy long yearkz 'ave veen vuilding up to thiz moment, and zoon we will 'ave what we came for."

And despite every instinct telling him to turn around and leave, Stoick followed Ingrid through the snow and towards the large castle.

There might have been a stone path underneath the piles of snow, but it looked like the snow never left. Stone walls that were as tall as his shoulders bordered the pathway they were following, and when he raised his head above them, all he saw was an endless horizon of snow. The only was he was convinced it wasn't a wasteland was the castle standing directly on the edge of the Dracones Valley.

Above the rest of the castle, a tower with two skinny staircases, both suspended in the air and wrapped around to daintily touch two of the four balconies.

"What do you suppose is up there?" Henrik whispered, pointing at the same tower Stoick had been admiring.

"Their Great Hall perhaps?"

"All the way up there?" Spikelout scoffed. "Why don't we ask Ingrid?"

The other three men quickly shushed him. "No." Stoick shook her head. "Don't talk to her unless spoken to. We don't know what else she has hidden from us, or how dangerous she is."

"We know how dangerous she is." Spikelout raised his hand parallel from the ground in Ingrid's direction. "She's an elf."

"And has lived with us for twenty years." Henrik shook his head in disbelief. "I don't understand. How is this possible?"

Spikelout huffed and crossed his arms over his puffed out chest. "You know, I told you not got mess with the Dragon Master. I voted to stand our ground and fight. But no you guys had to get involved and try to reclaim your long lost son and dabble with magic."

"We're doing this for Berk." Stoick snapped, shutting Spikelout's mouth long enough to realize this had nothing to do with helping Berk, and they were long past the point of turning back. "Plus, if I don't make it back, Hiccup will. And he will take over the tribe."

A sense of pride swept over him, imagining his son as chief of Berk. With his granddaughter standing beside him, learning as she grew. And Valka. To see her smile again, hear her legends of magical places and the adventures she had while refusing to remain still. He could almost feel her warm breath on his cheek through the harsh winter winds.

But she had said the elf was her daughter.

Which meant, she was one of them. She had lied to him as well.