Disclaimer: I don't own HTTYD

Chapter Two – The Horror

Hiccup and Toothless had a several hours head-start on them, but Stoick, absolutely fuming, pushed them to fly west with all haste. He and Skull-Crusher were in the lead, tracking the runaways. Astrid and Stormfly kept up with them on their left side, Snotlout and Hookfang on their right. Fishlegs and Meatlug, the twins with Barf&Belch, brought up the rear.

To call Stoick cross would be a gross understatement. He was furious. What in the name of all the gods, of every creature on Midgard, would possess Hiccup to do something so asinine, so reckless, so…boar-headed! He's just like his mother Stoick thought briefly, and winced. Valka and Hiccup were so alike it scared him.

In truth, that was the true reason for his anger; as a front for bone deep terror. Stoick was afraid for his son. He didn't understand how this was happening. Surely, by now the lad ought to know better. Hadn't he outgrown the need to be contrary and insubordinate? Hiccup should have learned his lesson about wandering off by now, should understand that when Stoick forbade him from doing something it was for his own good; but apparently not.

The chief wasn't too pleased with Toothless either. He knew the dragon would do anything for his son, but Toothless ought to have more sense than this. It wasn't like Hiccup had flown himself to Myrkr. Would it really be so hard for the Night Fury to discourage his rider's more foolish exploits, instead of going along with them? Yes, that dragon would die before he let Hiccup come to harm, but that didn't mean that either of them were invincible.

Astrid, too, was scared for Hiccup. She kept up a litany of insults under her breath, preparing for the chewing out she would give him once his father was finished. Really, though, she blamed herself. She knew Hiccup. He'd been so thrilled by the thought of finding more Night Furies; she should have expected him to pull a stupid stunt like this. If she'd been more alert, she could have followed them sooner, or better yet stopped them altogether.

Personally, Astrid wasn't even sure she believed there were any Night Furies in Myrkr. The description that Johann gave certainly sounded like one, but then the trader was known for embellishing his stories, especially the second-hand ones. I swear, if he's gone all the way to a dangerous unknown land for nothing, I am going to rub it in his stupid face!

In the end, Stoick's insistence that they fly so fast to make up for lost time would be his downfall. He refused to stop until they'd crossed a huge swathe of featureless ocean and come upon the lonely barren isle known as Nott's Gate. Skull Crusher angled himself down towards the ground, and the other dragons followed his lead, all six of them landing amongst the gorse bushes.

The other riders dismounted to stretch their aching legs, but Stoick remained in the saddle. "Come on!" he shouted. "We don't have time to dawdle. Hiccup isn't here!" The island was tiny, barely more than a flattish patch of rock, and from his perch on Skull's back he could see at a glance that there was no sign of any black Night Fury or disobedient dragon rider.

"Please, Chief" Fishlegs begged meekly, "We all want to find him, but our dragons need a rest. Meatlug's wings are about to fall off!" Beside him, his beloved Gronckle was panting heavily, bumblebee-wings drooping. Stoick cursed under his breath. The dragons had a lot of stamina, but he'd been pushing them at full speed for miles now. It was no wonder they were tired.

"C'mon, old boy" he encouraged, patting Skull Crusher, "you've still got a bit of fight left in you, don't you? We can find Hiccup and Toothless, you and I!"

Skull Crusher breathed hard, snorted, and looked back at him. I'm tired too he seemed to be saying. With a scowl, the Chief dismounted. "Fine! You can have a short rest. Get your dragons sky-worthy as soon as possible; we don't have any time to lose" he instructed sternly. Astrid went to look for a spring or pool to could drink from; the others set about massaging their dragons wing joints.

Stoick didn't want to rest. He wanted to find his son, berate him for going off alone, and then hold him tight and refuse to let go. This incident brought terrible memories back; when Hiccup had been kidnapped by bounty hunters; when Stoick feared he'd lost his son to a cave-in. And now, he couldn't shake the feeling that his only child was in terrible danger, and needed his father.

The dragons and riders alike slaked their burning thirsts with the water trickling from a spring. Wings stretched and thighs rubbed, they took to the air again. Stoick sustained himself with the thought that their destination was not far. Myrkr was just on the horizon; he could see it already, up ahead. Even from the air it looked forbidding, an endless mass of dark firs and glacial mountains.

His attention was drawn away from the not-so-distant form of the land ahead by a smaller, closer fluttering shape. "What in Thor's name…?" It was a Terror – no bird was that colour – and it was clearly in distress. Astrid urged her dragon to intercept it; Stormfly surged forwards, Astrid snatched the little dragon out of the air, and they circled back to fly alongside Stoick once more.

"Sharpshot?!" exclaimed Astrid, recognising the Terror. The miniature dragon's chest rose and fell rapidly; he must have flown fast as he possibly could from Myrkr, poor little guy. He soon caught his breath though, inhaling a huge lungful of air and releasing it again in a shriek. *Hiccup and Toothless caught!*

The humans couldn't understand him, of course, but the dragons could. *Caught? What do you mean, caught?!* Hookfang demanded with a snarl.

*Caught! Bad humans, trap Toothless, hurt Hiccup! Dragon hunters!* Sharpshot wailed in distress. Stormfly's spines twitched. Meatlug growled. Hookfang flamed up. B&B hissed. "Something's wrong" Astrid declared, somewhat redundantly. "We have to hurry. Hiccup's in trouble!"

"Go, Skull Crusher!" Stoick roared. He knew that Hiccup was in danger, and they shouldn't have needed the little Terror to tell them that. The Rumblehorn beneath him let out a deafening bellow and charged in midair. Hold on, son. I'm coming for you. Stoick prayed to all the gods that he would not be too late.

They soon reached the shores of Myrkr, finding an inlet with treacherous cliffs. Stoick urged his dragon to follow the scent trail, and ordered the other riders to spread out and search their surroundings for any sign of Hiccup and Toothless' whereabouts. Sharpshot had gotten his second wind; when they were flying towards the shoreline, he disengaged his claws from Stormfly's saddle and dived down to where he'd seen the pair last, crowing as if to say *Follow me!*

Skull Crusher followed Hiccup and Toothless' scent (though he let Sharpshot believe he was leading them) down to a large clearing not far from the cliffs. There were several tents, and and one side of the clearing, a deep pit covered by a grate of dragon-proof metal. Wary, the Rumblehorn circled it, but the Terror flew straight down and flitted about, crying out plaintively.

No hunters emerged from the tents with crossbows loaded, even when Skull Crusher roared in challenge. The dragon landed heavily, and Stoick jumped off his back. "Hiccup!" he shouted, one hand cupped around his mouth, the other unlimbering his axe. There was no reply; not from a human voice, at least.

He stormed through the deserted camp like a man possessed, ripping aside every tent flap to look inside. Each one was empty, but for a sleeping mat; every weapon taken, every man gone. In the largest tent, which must have belonged to the leader since it was the only one with a table, Stoick found a map of the coast of Myrkr. His keen eyes picked out where they were, and then landed on a marked place south of the inlet - Raudabein. Blood bone.

He heard Skull Crusher calling to him, but he snatched up the map before he emerged. His dragon was standing by the pit, growling at something inside it. Stoick's heart leapt into his throat. Were Hiccup and Toothless down there? Damn it, that should have been the first place he looked. He rushed over. "What is it, boy? What have you…found…?" Stoick trailed off when he looked down.

There at the bottom of the pit lay Toothless' saddle, harness and scarlet tail-fin, which was ripped and hung in shreds. A terrible foreboding swept over Stoick, turning the air in his lungs to ice. Something was very, very wrong. Before he could say anything, before he could even move, he heard the echoes of an anguished scream, and looked up just in time to see a burst of white fire.

Stormfly and Astrid had flown down the coast and inland a little, but saw nothing of note, so they doubled back. Circling the coast, Stormfly picked up a different trail and dived down towards the shore, following a steep trail on the cliffs of the inlet and the cove at the far end. As they got closer, Astrid spotted a small rowboat on the verge of being dragged away by the waves.

"Over there, Stormfly" she directed the Nadder, who obligingly landed on the sand. At once, Stormfly's large nostrils flared, and she growled. "What's wrong, girl?" Astrid inquired worriedly. Stormfly stalked over to the boat, tilted her head to peer inside it; and leapt back with a shriek, spines flicking up all along her tail. She closed her eyes and shook her head vigorously.

Concerned, Astrid hurried over to investigate. She knew the boat was occupied, but when she looked she saw – "Hiccup!" He was lying face up in the boat, helmet on with the visor down. So relieved was she to find him, that Astrid didn't notice how still his chest was, or the unmistakable scent of blood. That soon changed. She reached out to pull away the helmet; it fell back at the slightest touch, and Astrid stared at what was – or rather wasn't – underneath.

She screamed.

Stormfly threw her head back and sent out a white hot flare. *Dead! Dead! Hiccup is dead!* she shrieked, a discordant wail of despair. At her cries, the other dragons turned on their tails and rushed back. They heard what she was screaming. They just didn't believe it.

One by one, the other dragons landed on the beach. "Astrid, what's the matter with you?" Snotlout asked her. She had staggered backwards, away from the boat and its grisly cargo; now she clung to Stormfly as if the dragon was the only thing holding her upright. With a shaking finger, she pointed at the boat in the surf, and Snotlout boldly marched over to investigate what had scared her so.

"Oh, gods." His eyes went wide as plates, the blood draining from his face. "Oh gods, why? I think I'm" – his stomach lurched, and he stumbled past the boat to the water's edge, retching.

The twins approached next. Anything that made Astrid tremble and Snotlout throw up had to be worth seeing, right? Oh, how wrong they were. Ruff and Tuff took one look and went chalk white, mouths hanging open. They backed away, gaping wordlessly, with a death grip on each other's hands.

Fishlegs whimpered, wringing his hands. "G-guys? What is it?" he asked nervously, unwilling to see for himself. Snotlout was still throwing up, and the twins shook their heads in silent unison. Astrid though, he heard her say something through her tears, choking on sobs. "Hiccup…no, no…Hiccup!"

Frightened, he forced himself to go over and see what was wrong…a single look and he retreated, horrified. Shaking all over, he buried his face in Meatlug's side, not wanting to have one more sight of it. "No, no…it can't be…"

Thus did Stoick find them all, riders in various states of distress and their dragons attempting in vain to comfort them. The little Terror, Sharpshot, leapt from his shoulder and went to hover over a rowboat. He let out a shrill wail that made the hairs on the back of Stoick's neck stand up, dropping out of the sky to land on whatever was in the boat and whimpering loudly.

The feeling of foreboding about his son's whereabouts grew stronger. Everyone was acting as if…no. No, it couldn't be! Astrid, still shaking, choked out "Ch-chief…Hiccup…he's…" She shook her head. No, gods, no, please Stoick begged. His feet moved without him telling them to, bringing him towards the boat everyone was avoiding. He didn't want to look, but he did.

At once he dropped to his knees, utterly horrified. They had found Hiccup. Lying in a boat, still as stone. His helmet was there, face up with the eye slits blankly staring, but there was nothing underneath it. Shoulders and half a neck, soaked in blood, but the corpse was headless. Stoick could barely grasp what he was seeing. His son had been killed. His son had been beheaded.

The sun had risen. How could that be? It should never rise again. The sun should fall from the sky, the moon should crumble, the stars should go out and the seas should dry up. The whole world ought to end. Stoick's world already had. All because some wretched dragon hunters had the nerve, the yellow bellied gall, to execute… He let out a bellow of inarticulate rage.

"Find them!" he roared, heaving himself to his feet and rounding on the tearful, horror-stricken riders. When they stared at him uncomprehending, Stoick impatiently snapped "the hunters! So I can tear the skulls off every last one of them for what they've done! They might have Toothless, too!" he added as an afterthought. If the Night Fury wasn't here, he must have been taken.

This seemed to galvanise them; Snotlout, the twins and Fishlegs hurriedly climbed back into their saddles. Only Astrid remained dismounted. "I can't…I can't just leave him…" she shook her head, face pale as a new moon. "S-someone needs to…to guard his b-body…let me stay here, Chief. Please."

Leaving Astrid and Stormfly on guard, the rest of them flew out to sea, heading in southerly directions. Stoick went due south, Snotlout and the twins south east, and Fishlegs went due east. The winds were blowing that way, had been for a while, so that was the way the hunter's ship must have travelled. The hunters had to still be nearby. Gods, why did you take my son? Please, let me find his murderers. He didn't deserve this. Let me avenge him Stoick prayed fervently. But then, he'd prayed to find Hiccup safe, and that had failed.

All he could think was why? How could this have happened? Why did the Norns, why did cruellest fate have to rip his family from him? First his wife, now his son. What had any of them done to deserve this? Why did Hiccup have to go to Myrkr? Stoick realised now that his son had been more restless than usual back on Berk, out flying Toothless from dawn till dusk, seeing him only at mealtimes.

Had Stoick been too pushy, trying to get Hiccup to take up the mantle of Chief? He believed his son was ready for it, but he hadn't exactly asked for Hiccup's opinion on the matter. Was there something he could have done to prevent this? Would Hiccup have been less willing to take such a risk if Stoick had just insisted that they all go, as a team, instead of forbidding him outright?

Stoick the Vast was not a vengeful man. He was tough and stern, as he needed to be, but vindictiveness was not truly in his nature. Hiccup had inherited his peacekeeping talents from his father, in many ways. Even when Valka had been taken, his first thought had been getting her back, not slaying the dragon who had stolen her away (although that had crossed his mind).

Now, though, it was as though a fire had been set alight inside him. A burning flame of revenge, that would only be doused when the blood of every last dragon hunter who had dared to snuff out his son's life had been spilled. He would make these cowards pay for what they had done. But first he had to find them. He urged Skull Crusher to find the trail, determined to bring justice.

Whoosh – kerchunk – "AAAAARGH!" – crunch crunch crunch crunch – crack!

"Sons of a half-troll-!" Whoosh – thunk – crunch crunch crunch – "Curse those infernal vamrs (1), those, those…nithingrs! (2) How dare they?! How could they?! How could…" Astrid trailed off, and sank to her knees before her axe where it was sticking out of the sand. Suddenly, she loathed the sight of it. "How could he? Hiccup…why? Why did you have to go?"

Grief and guilt rose like bile in her throat – like Snotlout, she wanted to throw up. She couldn't get the awful sight out of her mind, and her gaze kept falling, against her will, on the boat. She couldn't see it from here, but…Astrid shuddered. This was all wrong. Hiccup wasn't – he wasn't meant to die, not like this. Not this soon. There was so much they hadn't done together.

Thoughts of never-wills and could-have-beens filled her mind, and Astrid's eyes welled with tears. At first she held them back, but there was nobody around but Stormfly, nobody to judge her, so she let them fall. In a matter of moments, she was sobbing in earnest, kneeling there in the cold sand. Stormfly looked at her human, and her heart fires dulled.

She and Astrid weren't a touchy pair. They weren't always nuzzling each other like Meatlug and Fishlegs did…or Toothless and Hiccup had. She didn't snap or flame at Astrid like Hookfang did to Snotlout, and she didn't have to pull Astrid away to stop her doing something silly, the way B&B had to with the twins. It didn't mean they weren't close. They showed it with their sync in flight, in battle. They were formidable alone, but even more so together.

Now, though, Stormfly realised that Astrid didn't need a fellow warrior – she needed a friend. Someone to be there for her as she grieved, because what had happened was terrible and a wrongness. So the Spike-Tail trudged over to her, settled down in the sand beside her, and folded a wing over Astrid's shoulder. At once, her human let out a fresh sob and turned to cling to her, burying a tearful face in her scales.

The two of them nestled there for a while, Stormfly crooning and purring to soothe her human. Eventually, Astrid pulled away and wiped her eyes on the back of her arm. "Thanks, girl. I needed that" she confessed, giving Stormfly a weak but grateful smile. Stormfly chirped at her. *You're welcome*. The Spike-Tail looked back at Hiccup's dead body and let out a mournful cry.

Sniffling, Astrid heaved in a breath, refusing to look at the hateful sight. She looked sadly at her dragon and murmured, "I know, Stormfly. I…I can't believe he's gone either." Her axe was still embedded in the sand nearby; she didn't want to be touching it, but she couldn't bring herself to just abandon it either.

Stormfly whined plaintively, grieving with her human. Astrid stroked her gently, and murmured, "I miss him too. I wish he'd never come to this wretched place – how could he be so stupid! I just knew one day he'd get himself killed, flying off to Thor-knows-where on his own, this is all his-!"

She choked off, realising what she was saying. "No…I should have stopped him sooner. I should have offered to go with him, or something – I should have known! This is all my fault" she whispered, fresh tears running down her cheeks. Stormfly nuzzled her reassuringly. "Don't go, Stormfly" she begged, feeling vulnerable. "Don't you leave me too."

Stormfly pressed her wing a little bit tighter around her human, watching the boat and Hiccup's body out of the corner of her yellow eye. *Don't worry, Astrid. I'm not going anywhere.*

Hours passed with no sign of the other riders. Fishlegs was the first to return. "We flew as high as we could, but there was no sign of anything or anyone" he admitted sadly. "It's like they've vanished, whoever they were." He hugged Meatlug, who whined sadly and licked him.

The twins were the next to come back. They said nothing, but shook their heads in unison. Tuffnut sat down on an algae smeared boulder and cried quietly; Ruffnut put an arm around her brother's shoulders in a rare display of support, her face pinched and eyes shiny as she fought back tears of her own.

Snotlout came back scowling, eyes red and puffy. "It's not fair!" he shouted, slamming a fist into the nearest surface, which happened to be Hookfang's flank. The dragon took the blow without protest, and Snotlout smoothed his hand over it a moment later. "Sorry, Hooky. I just…ugh! Stupid hunters. Stupid Hiccup. Stupid sand in my eyes…" He rubbed at them and sniffled.

Finally, when dusk was approaching, Stoick returned. Skull Crusher had found no trail, picked up no scent. The other riders were waiting for him; Berk was waiting for him. His people needed him. Stoick had failed, as a husband, as a father…he could not fail as a chief, also. As much as he wanted vengeance, slaying his son's murderers would not bring Hiccup back.

As for Toothless…though Stoick was loathe to admit it, he knew the dragon would die before he let Hiccup come to harm. If his son had been killed, then Toothless was surely dead as well. Still, if there was even the smallest chance that the Night Fury was alive – he was, after all, a rare and valuable dragon – Stoick had a duty to try and find him. It was what Hiccup would have wanted.

Gods, had he cried out for his father before they…? Had he thought no-one was coming for him? I'm sorry, son. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't save you. I wasn't there when you needed me. I swear, I will avenge you, and I'll rescue Toothless if I can. If he's out there, Hiccup, I will bring your dragon home.

"Chief?" Astrid asked in a small voice. Stoick's face seemed hewn from stone, but his eyes were heavy with grief. "What…what do we do now?"

For a long moment, he said nothing. Finally, he turned to Fishlegs and told him, "There's a clearing back there, with tents and a deep pit. Toothless'…saddle and tail fin were left there, and your Gronckle is the only one who can get in and out of the hole. Go and fetch them" he instructed. Fishlegs nodded quickly and mounted up; Meatlug took to the air and buzzed away.

They soon returned with the saddle and tail-fin. Stoick took them from him and forced himself to move towards the boat. "Wait!" cried Astrid, rushing forwards. She knelt beside the boat, doing her best not to look at the body too closely. When she turned around, she was holding his prosthetic.

"I…I just wanted to keep a part of him with me" she explained. "Oh, but…you're his dad, you should…" she held it out to Stoick, but he pushed it back towards her. He could barely stand to look it, too many memories came back at the sight, now tainted with the cold ache of loss. Astrid swallowed hard, nodded, and moved aside, clutching the peg leg to her chest tightly.

Solemnly, the Chief laid the saddle and tail-fin atop the body's unmoving chest. Unable to stand the sight of it a moment longer, Stoick did something the other riders did not expect. He unclipped and shed his bearskin cloak. They had never seen him without it, and when it no longer hung from his shoulders, Stoick the Vast looked smaller. He draped the fur over the body, hiding it from view.

Sharpshot had been perched on the edge of the boat, keening. Now he flew to the Chief's shoulder, and nuzzled his cheek sadly. Stoick made no move to brush him away. They pushed the boat out to sea, wading out far enough for the current to take it away from the shore. Then they mounted their dragons, flew up and surrounded the boat, hovering above it.

As the chief, and Hiccup's father, it fell to Stoick to give the funeral rites. He never wanted to say these words. "May the Valkyries welcome you…and lead you through Odin's great battlefield, to the Halls of Valhalla. May they sing your name with love and fury…so that we may hear it, and know that you've taken your rightful place, at the table of kings…For a great Viking has fallen. A hero…a warrior…a rider…a son", this last a pained whisper.

They had no flaming arrows to set the boat alight, but they had dragonfire, and that seemed more fitting. Hiccup would never have wanted a regular funeral. Skull Crusher shot a small fireball at the boat, and all the other dragons fired on it as well. As the small rowboat with its heartbreaking cargo went up in flames and smoke, the riders watched the conflagration through their tears, as the dragons roared in despair.

Rain was falling hard when they finally made it back to Berk. Even so, everyone in the village came out to see them. The absence of Hiccup and Toothless' was noticed immediately, as was Stoick's missing cape. The villagers murmured worriedly. They asked questions, but Stoick answered none of them; he pushed past everyone and went inside his house, shutting the door behind him.

Gobber approached the other riders, brow furrowed in concern. "Astrid, lass? What happened out there? Where are…?" He trailed off and stared in disbelief, as Astrid raised a tear-stained face to him and wordlessly held up Hiccup's leg.

The blacksmith gasped at the sight. It could only mean one thing. "…How?"

Astrid shook her head, unable to speak. Snotlout replied, through gritted teeth, "Fucking hunters."

Gobber swore even more colourfully on the inside. Hiccup's been killed. And if his apprentice was gone, then Toothless must also be lost; like Stoick, he knew that dragon would rather die than let his human be hurt. "I'm sorry, Astrid. All of you" Gobber told the riders, "now if you'll excuse me, I have something in my eyes…" With that, he turned away and retreated into Hiccup's workshop to cry.

The first thing Stoick did was lock his door, and close all the shutters. He lit a few candles to see by; he couldn't bear to light a fire, not after he'd seen his son's funeral pyre set ablaze. He took one of the candles, and carried it upstairs, slowly pushing open the door of Hiccup's room. It looked just like he'd left it, as if he was going to come back any moment to work on a project or have a nap.

It didn't feel real. He had seen the body, burned it, but he still couldn't believe that Hiccup was really gone. After everything they'd been through; there was so much Stoick still had to teach him, so much he still had to learn from him, about him. His son was stubborn and brave and impossible and utterly brilliant, and now he was gone. Stoick sat down heavily on the edge of Hiccup's bed.

He pulled a crumpled piece of parchment from his pocket. It was the note Hiccup had written before he left, but Stoick had not read it. He did so now.

Sorry dad, but I'm going to Myrkr. This could be my one chance to find more Night Furies and I can't give that up. I've got Toothless and Sharpshot with me, and I'll be careful. You can ground me as long as you want when I get back. If I can help Toothless reunite with his own kind, it'll be worth it. Love, Hiccup.

The parchment became stained with drops of water; Stoick moved it, so his falling tears would not make the charcoal run and get rid of his son's last words. He could still hear Hiccup's voice in his head. Stoick set the candle and paper aside, took off his helmet and buried his face in his hands. With nobody to see, he wept, mourning the harsh loss of his beloved child.

"Val…" he whispered to the ghosts that would forevermore plague this house, "I'm sorry. Please…if he's with you…take care of our boy."

(1) Vamr – loathsome person.

(2) Nithingr – villain, vile person.

So…are your hearts breaking yet?