It was a bright and lively day at DunBroch.
The shores were packed with longboats as warriors, musicians, and families from the four clans shouted, sang, and waved banners. Trumpets blared from the castle walls in greeting. King Fergus stood at the grand gate with a massive grin, raising his sword high in welco. Beside him, Queen Elinor stood composed and elegant as always. Behind her mother, Princess rida shifted uncomfortably in a tight, formal blue dress, clearly wishing she could be anywhere else.
As the clans stepped onto land, the atmosphere exploded with noise. n slapped each other on the backs, boasted about their strength, and cheered wildly as their leaders moved forward. The entire procession made its way up the winding path to the castle, filling the halls and courtyards with laughter, music, and the rich sll of roasting at and ale. The ancient castle ca alive with color and chaos, it felt less like a formal gathering and more like a rowdy family reunion.
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In the Great Hall
The most important figures from all four clans gathered inside the grand hall. Long tables groaned under the weight of food and drink. Torches blazed along the stone walls, and the air humd with excitent.
At the head of the room, King Fergus sat on his throne with Queen Elinor beside him. rida sat stiffly at her mother’s side, while her three younger brothers fidgeted nearby.
On the opposite side stood the lords of the other three clans.
Fergus stood up, raising his cup high and calling for quiet. The hall slowly settled.
"So, here we are!" Fergus bood. "The four clans! Uh... Gathering... Uh... For..."
Queen Elinor sighed in exasperation and gracefully rose to her feet, finishing her husband’s sentence.
"The presentation of the suitors!" she announced clearly.
Fergus quickly jumped back in. "The presentation of the suitors!"
The crowd cheered enthusiastically.
"Clan Macintosh!" Fergus called.
Lord Macintosh stepped forward proudly. "Your Majesty, I present my heir and son, who defended our lands from the northern invaders and, with his own sword, stabbed and vanquished thousands more!"
Young Macintosh swaggered forward, showing off flashy sword skills. He looked vain and spoiled. rida watched with a completely unimpressed expression.
"Clan MacGuffin!"
Lord MacGuffin proudly presented his eldest son. "Your Majesty, I present my eldest son, who scuttled Viking warships with his bare hands and vanquished two thousand more!"
The burly young man stepped up and snapped a thick wooden plank in half with his bare hands. The crowd roared in approval.
"Clan Dingwall!"
Lord Dingwall stood beside what appeared to be a tall, muscular warrior. rida did a double-take, her eyes widening slightly at the impressive figure. However, Lord Dingwall suddenly yanked the tall man aside, revealing his actual son, a small, weedy boy.
"I present my only son," Lord Dingwall declared, "who was besieged by ten thousand Romans and took out their whole army single-handedly... with one arm!"
A voice from the crowd shouted, "Lies!"
Lord Dingwall imdiately bristled. "What? I heard that! Aye! Say it to my face, ye scared sniffling jackanape!"
The insults flew fast. Lord Macintosh mocked their hair. Lord MacGuffin bragged about their teeth. Young MacGuffin muttered sothing in an incredibly thick accent that no one could understand. The argunt escalated until Wee Dingwall suddenly leaped onto Lord Macintosh and bit him hard on the arm.
A full brawl broke out across the hall.
Fergus roared and slamd his fist on the table. "Now, that’s all done! You’ve had your go at each other! Show a little decorum! No more fighting!"
The hall slowly quieted.
Fergus cleared his throat. "And now... the Hooligan Tribe!"
Stoick the Vast stepped forward proudly. "I present my son and heir Hiccup Haddock the Third! He who helped slay the monstrous Red Death, tad the Night Fury, and brought peace between Vikings and dragons to our lands!"
Hiccup stepped into the center of the hall, looking extrely embarrassed. His eyes t rida’s across the room. A small, awkward smile passed between them, a silent acknowledgnt of their previous eting at the Northern Market.
From the side of the hall, Lucian watched the proceedings with the rest of the gang. He leaned toward Fishlegs.
"Why is the Hooligan Tribe even part of the Kingdom of DunBroch?" Lucian asked quietly. From what he rembered, they weren’t originally connected in the movies.
Fishlegs lit up, always happy to share knowledge.
"Ah, you see," he began earnestly, "long before they were allies, the four great clans DunBroch, Macintosh, Dingwall, and MacGuffin were bitter enemies. They fought constantly for generations. But then outside invaders ca, fierce Western raiders and Viking bands. The clans were losing badly until King Tormod of DunBroch united them. Even then, they needed more help."
Fishlegs leaned in dramatically. "That help ca from Chief Squidface the Terrible, Our Chief, Stoick’s father. He brought the Hooligans and turned the tide of the war. After victory, they ford the Kingdom of DunBroch and sealed a lasting alliance with the Hooligan Tribe. That’s why we’re here today."
"Pretty amazing, isn’t it?" Fishlegs finished with a proud smile. "Everything works better when you stand together."
Queen Elinor stepped forward once more, her voice clear and regal.
"Now then, where were we? In accordance with our laws, by the rights of our heritage, only the firstborn of each of the great leaders may be presented as champion."
rida muttered under her breath, "Firstborn?"
Elinor continued, "And thus, compete for the hand of the princess of DunBroch. To win the fair maiden, they must prove their worth by feats of strength or arms in the gas. It is customary for the challenge to be determined by the princess herself."
rida’s eyes suddenly sparkled with mischief. She quickly shouted, "Archery! Archery!" Then, rembering herself, she added more gracefully, "I choose... Archery."
Queen Elinor gave her daughter a long look but eventually turned to the crowd.
"Archery it shall be. Let the gas comnce!"
The Great Hall erupted into cheers once more.
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