A story unfolds
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"Who are you?" the dockworker asked, his eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"I have a message for your chief" I said, hoping that I wouldn't have to give my name just yet. "It's about his heir, Hiccup."
The dockworker's face went white, and after a few moments of intense staring, he said "Well then, you had best follow me." He stood back to allow me to climb out the rickety little fishing boat I had arrived on. Apparently, my name didn't matter anymore, or the man was just forgetful. I really hoped it was the first option, but the dockworker's sanity could be questioned, as he was wearing a bucket on his head. I climbed out of the boat, relieved to have semi-solid land underneath my feet again. Unlike most Vikings, I had a serious aversion towards boats, and the last few days of sailing had been quite unpleasant for me, to say the least.
"Who's it from?" he asked me, interrupting my thoughts.
"Sorry?" I asked.
"The message, who's it from?" he repeated.
"Oh, just a friend of mine. He's a real nice guy actually. Very trustworthy."
Oops, I'd said a little too much. The information from my friend was very… delicate. For the chiefs ears only.
"So," I said, hastily trying to change the subject, "are you a dockworker?"
The man's face lit up, his forgetfulness now fully apparent.
"Oh no, not me. No, I have one of the most important jobs in the entire village."
I raised my eyebrows at this statement, wondering what type of village gives an important job to someone who wore a bucket over his head instead of a helmet.
"I'm a fisherman, me and Mulch over there." He pointed to another man cleaning fishing equipment at the other end of the docks.
Mulch? What type of a cuckoo name was Mulch? Oh, well we are Vikings, so I guess I shouldn't really be surprised. Heck, I even knew a guy called Beerbelly.
"Um, could you please direct me to the Chief; I believe his name is Stoick?" I asked as politely as I could at the guy with the bucket, who now seemed to be trying to communicate to Mulch using frantic hand gestures and some kind of spasmodic leg movements.
"Um, what are you doing?" I asked, my curiosity momentarily overcoming my need to speak with the chief.
"Oh, I was just asking Mulch how the cleaning was going" he said. Judging from the confused look the other Viking was shooting our way, he was unsuccessful in that endeavor.
"Could you please direct me to the chiefs house?" I asked again, hoping that the message would get across.
"Oh, sure thing" Bucket-Guy said, leading me away from the docks towards the village.
As we made our way towards the village, I asked the bucket headed man "So is it true that you guys have, you know... trained dragons?" My friend had warned me that this would be the case, but I still had make sure. Training dragons was quite an impressive and rather unbelievable accomplishment. "Oh yes, they live amongst us now, and help us with everything from crop planting to fishing." the man replied.
We were very close to the village now, and a massive dragon decided this would be the perfect time to validate bucket-guys statement and burst forth from behind one of the houses, carrying an assortment of building materials.
I stopped dead in my tracks and resisted the urge to let a (manly) scream escape from my throat.
"Oh, hello Snotlout" Bucket guy said. It was at that point that I noticed there was actually a HUMAN on the dragon's back. Boy, that was another shock.
"Hello Bucket," the boy said in a rather dejected voice. Despite the fact that I was shocked to my bones about the boy on the dragon, I had to suppress a grin at finally learning Bucket-guy's real name, and how adept it was.
Either the boy didn't notice me, or he just didn't care enough to ask. It didn't matter really, as the boy flew off with his dragon, all the while angrily muttering under his breath about how hard he was being forced to work.
I broke my gaze away from the departing dragon as I realized that Bucket was far ahead of me by now. Apparently he hadn't even stopped walking!
I ran to catch up with Bucket, who was by now in the middle of the village. I caught up to him and slowed down to match his pace, all the while keeping my eye out for a medium sized, black dragon that I knew was around here...somewhere. My friend had told me about it as well, and apparently it was very intelligent for a dragon. The dragon was also crucial to my plan, as it was the only one that could prove what I was about to tell the chief.
Bucket was now leading me out of the center of town, towards what I assumed was the chief's house, situated in a prominent position atop the hill that the entire village was built on. We reached the house without any more terrifying dragon encounters, thankfully, and I thanked Bucket for being my guide.
"Oh, twas nothing," he said, "I'll do anything to not have to clean the fishing equipment." He turned away, walking back towards the docks.
I turned to face the door, and knocked hard, all the while going through what I was going to say to the chief.
My thoughts were interrupted as something very small and very fast leapt from the roof, landed on my shoulder and proceeded to scurry all along my upper body. I couldn't resist the urge this time and let loose with an almighty roar (scream) and started frantically trying to get the thing off of me. It scurried down my spine and leg where it attached itself to one of my boots. I looked down at it, and saw that it was a very small dragon.
"Uh, hello," I said, hoping it was going to detach itself soon. It didn't. Instead it bit down, HARD.
"Heyheyhey...HEY. THAT HURTS" I yelled at it, trying to pull it off. When that plan of action failed, I started swinging my leg from side to side in an attempt to throw it off.
The door was yanked open swiftly, and the pain in my foot (and my speech) was forgotten as I looked up at a mountain of a man with a beard so huge you could suffocate someone with it.
"Oh, no...urm, hehe...you see,ah, I..Err...um"I stammered a host of unintelligible nonsense when I realized the situation I had gotten myself into. Here I was, at the chiefs house and caught in the middle of what probably looked a lot like kicking something that was probably a beloved family pet.
The man's brow knitted together in what could only be described as fury and then...he chuckled?
"Oh, sorry about that," he apologized,"Aseroth's got quite an unusual way of introducing himself, and nothing we've done has made him stop. Although, he's never latched onto a boot like that before."
My brain finally decided to send a tangible sentence my way and I asked "Um, are you Stoick the Vast, Chief of the Hairy Hooligan tribe, O here his name and tremble, Ugh Ugh?"
"Yes, that's me," he said, and the friendliness was replaced by a business like face." How can I help you?" he said.
"I have a message, about your son..." I started, but I stopped when the pain in my foot returned. I quickly reached down and with a swift jerk, I pulled my boot off, and carefully placed it, and the dragon curled around it, on the grass next to me. I hoped to get my boot back later, when the dragon wasn't obsessing over it.
"Please, come inside" Stoick said, his face becoming an unreadable mask.
"What do you know about my son?" the chief asked, once the door was closed.
"I know that he is alive, for starters" I said.
"How do you know that?" Stoick asked.
"Yes, how do you know that?" a feminine voice asked from the other side of the room.
I gulped as I realized that there were 2 more people in the room. One was the girl who had spoken, a blond Viking with skulls on her shoulders, and the other was a man with no less than two missing limbs and an elaborate blond moustache that was almost half a meter long.
My eyes widened further when I realized that the girl, probably Astrid Hofferson, was sharpening an axe lying across her lap. My friend had told me, warned was probably a better word, that she was one of the best fighters here on Berk, and that she was also the one courting Hiccup.
I took a deep breath before I continued.
"Because I have just come from the Amber Slave lands," I said, knowing that I needed to explain further.
While the two limbed man stared at me like I had grown a second head, Astrid got up, walked swiftly over to me and calmly placed her axe uncomfortably close to my throat.
"The only people that ever come out of the amber slave lands are Slave traders and pirates" she said, eyeing me with a look of fury. "How do we know you are not one of them?"
"Fetch me Hiccup's dragon, the Night Fury, and Ill prove to you that I am neither a slave trader nor a pirate" I said with a confidence I did not currently feel, what with an axe at my throat and all.
"He's not here," she said, her eyes boring holes into my face. "He's busy searching for Hiccup."
I felt my plan shatter and break into a million little pieces.
"Um, excuse me?" I said, desperately hoping I had misheard. "What exactly do you mean he's not here? I thought he couldn't fly without Hiccup."
"You've been doing your research about us, haven't you?" Astrid said and the axe pressed a little harder against my throat.
Stoick stood up and said "Astrid, calm down." It was said in the type of voice tone that you don't argue with. A soft thump against the door stopped Stoick from saying more. The man with only two limbs sighed and stood up. He was clearly enjoying the show. He walked over to the door and opened it, only to discover Aseroth sitting at the door and scratching it. The little dragon darted inside and scurried up into the rafters the moment the door was opened. Gobber just shook his head and turned to shut the door, but something outside caught his attention. He had spotted my boot lying just a few feet away, and something changed in his face. He bent down to grab it, but instead of giving it to me, he seemed to become mesmerized by it, just like the little dragon had.
I wondered what was so interesting about my boot. In fact, the boot didn't even belong to…oh. I suddenly remembered where I had gotten the boot from.
"Stoick, ye might want te come take a look at this," the man said, his voice quivering slightly.
"I don't have time to waste staring at boots Gobber," Stoick said, his voice showing irritation, but some other emotion as well.
"Just come here, ye lazy sausage," Gobber replied, just as irritated and not in the least intimidated.
Stoick walked outside, stared at the boot intensely and then back at Gobber, and the two started a hushed conversation. I leaned a little closer in their direction, hoping to pick up on the conversation, but all I got was little snippets.
"…yes, Stoick, Im sure…"
Stoick said something back, but it was so fast and hushed I couldn't distinguish what it was at all.
"…leather comes from my…" I couldn't catch what followed, and the conversation descended into a furious whisper that I couldn't pick up at all. I turned back to Astrid, who had removed her axe from my throat, and was shocked when I saw her face. It was set in a barely controlled furious scowl. She clearly recognized the boot.
Slowly, her words dripping with menace and anger, she said "Where. Did. You. Get. That. Boot?"
"Um… Hiccup gave it to me." I said, realizing that I was dealing with a very dangerous (possibly insane) girl, who was in an exceptionally bad mood. I would have to be very careful with what I said next.
Stoick and Gobber walked back inside, Gobber holding the boot in his hand.
"Ok boy, you have precisely 2 minutes to explain where Hiccup is and how you got his boot," Stoick said.
I took a calming breath, organizing my thoughts into a logical order.
"Hiccup is working as a slave in the amber slave lands. He's currently being held in the Molten Stronghold," I said, hoping they knew what the Molten Stronghold was.
"What's the Molten Stronghold?" Astrid asked. Great, they don't know what it is.
"Uh, you know those pirates and slave traders you were talking about earlier? Well, they are actually quite organized, and the Molten Stronghold is what you would call their headquarters," I said, wondering how these people didn't know about one of the most feared islands in the entire barbaric archipelago.
Astrid seemed to read the look on my face and said "We don't take much interest in the business of slave-traders and pirates. As long as they give Berk a wide berth, we leave them be. We have enough enemies to deal with as it is…"
Stoick interrupted her, and asked "How did Hiccup get to be a prisoner there? The Amber Slavelands are due east of here, almost a week's journey by boat. Hiccup and Toothless were shot down to the west of here, near the mainland."
"Yes, that's true, but a guy called Alvin brought him to the Stronghold." I said.
"Alvin…the Treacherous?" Astrid asked, the look of fury returning to her face.
"No, Alvin the Reliable" I said. "Well, that's what he called himself anyway. Although, now that I think about it, he didn't look all that reliable."
A heavy thump from outside cut short my ramblings. Gobber sighed, got up again, and walked to open the door, again. However, this time it wasn't the small figure of Aseroth sitting outside the door. Instead, this time it was a bigger black, sleek figure crouching outside the door. The night fury took less than three seconds to sum up the situation inside the room. His rider's right boot in Gobbers hand, myself with only a left boot on, and a seriously peeved off Astrid standing next to me. I was no dragon whisperer, but even I could understand the cold, calculating look the dragon gave me.
I remembered the sentence I had been practicing before the little dragon had distracted me, and said "Hello, Toothless. I'm here to tell you that Hiccup is alright, and that I can lead you to him." The dragon's face was one of utter shock and amazement, and I think I saw his jaw drop slightly. The Vikings were mirroring his expression.
Astrid finally got over her shock and said, slowly "The only person who can speak to dragons is Hiccup, and he only figured out how to communicate with them weeks before he was taken prisoner. How can you possibly talk to them as well?"
"Because I just spent the last month in a cell with Hiccup…"