I'm so sorry about the prolonged wait! With the holidays, family, and whatnot, I've been either busy or so exhausted that I have been writing. But I'm getting back on track - don't worry. And thanks again for the support - it means a lot to me that you're enjoy this story.

This chapter ended up being a bit longer than I originally foresaw, but instead of cutting into two smaller chapter I thought that since it's been so long since the last update a nice longer make-up chapter was preferable.

Enjoy!

X

Chapter 3

He'd been dreaming, maybe, but his sleep was abruptly interrupted by a sudden force to his chest, sending him sprawling to the floor of his bedroom with his blanket trying to straggle him.

"Hiccup."

"What?" Hiccup said as he fought against the blanket. He found an opening and shoved his hand through it, finally freeing himself of it's warm and darkness. He was sitting on the floor beside his bed and Astrid was standing, arms crossed and eyes narrowed, on the other side. He repeated, "What?"

"Race me." Astrid demanded. "Right now. Just you and me. No cheating, no nothing."

Hiccup untangled himself from the blanket and stood up. She was serious, no doubt on her face, and he knew he couldn't turn her down. He'd sort of made his hole himself and now he had to climb back out.

"Okay." Hiccup agreed.

It was barely dawn and light on Berk was dim. The sheep were still fumbling out of sleep but at the first two of their number vanished in a swooshing of dragon claws, that stupor was rudely thrown aside. A few early Vikings pointed toward the sky at the two speeding dragons, but the duo of a Night Fury and Deadly Nadder, rather than the full excitement of five dragons, wasn't enough to shake some Vikings from their beds.

Hiccup did as he was told. He tried to win, fairly and squarely, as if it weren't Astrid he was competing against, but Snotlout or the twins, who he had no problem in squishing. He gave the race his all, which is why when the last sheep was thrown into his basket, by him, and the total score had him ahead by three points, he was proud. That feeling swelled and then burst as he landed on the other side of the scoring basket and Astrid landed not far away.

"It's not a bad way to wake up, right Bud?" Hiccup said to Toothless, giving him a scratch on the head. He responded with a happy warble. He then turned his attention to Astrid, "Right, Astrid?"

"Whatever." Her tone was less than enthused.

"Oh come on, Astrid, don't be like that." Hiccup said, some of his previous infuriation reigniting. "It's just a game."

"That's what the winner says."

"Yes, I won." Hiccup said. Astrid rolled her eyes and his grip on the saddle's handlebars tightened. "And you've won plenty of time. It's just a game, Astrid. It doesn't matter who wins."

"Of course it matters." Astrid said, butting in at the end of his words, like it was the most important thing he forgot to mention.

"Why is everything competition with you?" Hiccup spat, knowing exactly what she was thinking. "Can't you just have fun without keeping score? And not be like this when you lose?"

"Be like what?" Astrid spat back, eyes on fire.

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't. Enlightening me. What am I like, Hiccup?"

Hiccup swallowed. He thought about keeping his mouth shut, ignoring her provocation, and letting it rest, but for some unknown reason his brain decided to speak.

"I don't know what you want from me, Astrid. You're mad when I let you win and you're mad when I don't. You're mad because you lost? I don't know. You're acting like I cheating or something, stole the wind away from you, like it's rightfully yours and how dare anyone else be better at something that you. I don't know what you want!"

Her brow furrowed over a narrow glare, hands clutched into tight fists, her lips twisted in to a nasty snare. She mumbled something that sounded dangerously close to, "Just a fucking game," but she and Stormfly were off and in the air faster than Hiccup could ask.

He groaned, loudly, and thrust a fist in to the air. Toothless warbled, questionably, and looked sideways up at him.

"I don't know, Bud." Hiccup said, defeated, "I don't understand her sometimes. Maybe she just needs time to cool off."

Hiccup was about to give Toothless the signal to fly, start their morning flight a little early, when a series of shouts brought Berk to alertness. Hiccup took off toward the blowing horn and arrived just a few moments before his father.

"What is it?" Stoick demanded. Like many Vikings, Stoick did not like being prematurely woken.

A sentry had returned to Berk in a fluster, dismounted his dragon in a hurry to blow the horn, and was looking restlessly at Stoick. "A boat, Chief. Out in the water. It's a Berserker by the sail. Looks in bad shape, like it's been through the worst storm it could handle without being torn apart."

Stoick turned toward the seas at this news, scanning the horizon, war cry ready on his lips. Hiccup reached into the saddle bags, now he was glad he'd kept them on, and withdrew his spyglass. It was one of the few thing he didn't want to leave Berk without. He looked through it and scanned the waters until he found the ship the sentry had fretted over.

The sail was torn in several places and looked as though it had been on fire. The entire hull was scarred with scorch marks. Hiccup handled the spyglass to his father, who studied the scene for a moment before giving it back. By this time many of the village gathered, wary at the spreading rumors of Berserkers.

"Where are those damn Berserkers?" Snotlout said loudly, boasting his chest outward and flexing his arms. "I'll show them who's boss around here."

The twins weren't far behind him, and as Ruffnut whispered something to her brother, Snotlout turned quickly and aimed a swift punch at Tuffnut. He fell to the ground as Ruffnut laughed. Snotlout straightened himself back up, retaking his warrior stance, but Ruffnut wasn't paying attention. She was poking her downed brother with her foot.

"We'll go check it out, Dad." Hiccup suggested, already riding Toothless, and he could see Hookfang and Barf and Belch within a short walk's distance.

"It's probably a trap." Stoick shook his head.

"Don't worry, I'll be careful." Hiccup said.

Stoick sighed heavily, but nodded. "Don't engage them unless you have to."

"Right." Hiccup nodded as Toothless set off into the air.

Within a few moments the twins, Snotlout, and Fishlegs were behind him, the lone ship in their sights. Hiccup noted the absence of Astrid, but knew that she was probably still mad. He shook that thought from his mind as the ship drifted underneath them.

"There's no one on board." Tuffnut announced, obviously.

"I'm going in for a closer look." Hiccup said as Toothless began to circle the ship, lowering with ever lap, eyes on the lookout for anything trap-like or suspicious.

The ship looked like it had been through war. A few barrels were upturn, blackened and charred, the hull and deck had both blood and soot, black and red staining in horrible uneven patterns. Behind the chipped and ashy mast was a rotting blanket, covering something that to Hiccup looked horribly humanoid.

"Fishlegs!" Hiccup called. He motioned him down.

Meatlug hovered in closer to the lump, her feet gripped it, and gradually pulled it away. Hiccup caught his gasp in his throat. A man was huddled underneath it, maybe alive, both burned and scarred and wounded. Hiccup signaled to the others and together they pushed the ship toward Berk with speed that no ship would master on its own.

Vikings were waiting on the docks, axes and maces at the ready, but Stoick was holding them back.

"There's a man on board." Hiccup called to his father as the ship bumped into the docks.

Gobber was among the few first on the ship. He poked the man a few time with his clubbed hand. He raised his head back toward Stoick and called, "He's alive!"

It didn't take many to carry the unconscious man up to the village. Stoick was as eager as the rest to hear his story, especially if it contained Berserkers. They hadn't seen or heard of Dagur or his army for nearly three years. They'd heard rumors through the traders, of wicked deeds and conquered peoples, but rumor was as far as they knew.

Gothi made quick work of the man and soon his eyes were fluttering open and graciously accepted cool drinks of water and bits of bread. Stoick, Hiccup, and Gobber came to the man's bedside and as Gothi departed, the man's countenance fell.

"Thank you." he said, but Stoick interrupted him.

"Why were you on a Berserker ship?" Stoick demanded.

"Are you working with them?" Gobber added. "Because we make short work of Berserkers on Berk."

Stoick turned his head to slide a glare toward Gobber, who understood, cleared his throat, and leaned back.

"What's your story, then?" Stoick said to the man.

He sat up as best he could, sighed, and began to speak. "My name is Gran. About a year ago my village was seized by the Berserkers. I've been in captivity since them, a prisoner of war, Dagur the Deranged called prisoners trophies. I couldn't live like…a animal. I saw my chance to escape and I took it."

"What happened?" Gobber asked, forgetting the previous unspoken order to not interrupt.

"There was some kind of attack happening. The Berserkers had found a village, but a storm was blowing, and everything was in chaos. I found a ship that had been abandoned because it was on fire, but the rain put it out, and I took refuge on it. I would rather be at the mercy of the waters than Dagur. At least the water wouldn't kill me out of pure madness."

"What village are you from?" Stoick asked.

"My village is long gone. Burned to the ground by the Berserkers. But before that it wasn't much to look at. A small fishing village on the shores, Tree Mountain. There was a mountain, and it had a lot of trees on it. I always thought it name was stupid." Gran said while staring at the ceiling.

"Gran," Stoick said with a hint of sympathy, "We have been hearing rumors of a growing Berserker army, is any of that true?"

Gran closed his eyes and sighed deeply. "Unfortunately, it is. The night that I escape was during one of his raids on some nameless little village that deserved nothing of the horror and death he gave them. As the storm carried me away I saw what had become of it. Not a house was left from the flames, it burned, like my own, a fire-tower to Asgard, screams of it's innocent echoing from the smoke. It was a horrible sight, haunting."

Stoick didn't speak immediately. Hiccup swallowed, he knew that Dagur was mad, and capable of horrible things, but to actually hear of what he'd done was unsettling. It felt him with an untamable sense of panic, of a need to reinforce Berk's own defenses, to run out there to stop Dagur from ruining any more homes and villages. Gobber looked as distraught as he felt, he scratched his head with his mace hand, looking absent-mindedly into the foot of the bed.

Gran was left to recover, with a guard at his door, just in case, and Stoick tried his best to keep the rumors of a rising Berserker army down. But Vikings loved to talk, and they loved to talk about war, which neither helped those rumor's die. By the end of the day stories of how to prepare Berk spread like wildfire, supposedly and sometime ludicrous plans of offense, ideas of new defense, and even one idea thrown in by the twins that they should dig a cave out of the mountains and pretend that no one was home.

"Dagur would just go away." Tuffnut said, as if this was his most brilliant plan.

"What do you think it means?" Hiccup asked his father that night, as the village, for the most part, pretended to retire.

"I don't know." Stoick said, eyes on the hearth fire. "Dagur has had three years to better himself and his army. I'd like to say that it means he has more ships. But Dagur isn't like most men. He's as wily as his armada is big. There is no telling. Best for now to be prepared for anything."

"We've beaten him before, on multiple occasions. He knows better than to just come stomping onto Berk." Hiccup said.

"Aye, he knows that the old-fashioned way of fighting isn't going to work on Berk. He's got to think of anything way. And that, Hiccup, is what makes me worried. Vikings are used to the face to face battles, where it's kill of be killed, axe to mace."

Hiccup sighed. He knew his father was right. When it came to dirty fighting, Vikings were at a loss. They wanted enemies they could see. They wanted bones they could feel crushing. They wanted to know exactly what they were up against. And with Dagur, there really was no telling.

"I'm going to bed. No sense in worrying about something that hasn't happened." Stoick sighed, and heaved himself away from the hearth.

Hiccup climbed the stairs to his room, one by one, and sat on the edge of his bed. Toothless had gone ahead of his and lay curled on the other side of the room, nose tucked under his tail, even breathing a sign of deep, dreamless sleep. Lucky him, Hiccup thought as he laid back against the pillow. He pulled the blanket up to his chin and stared at the ceiling above. He wasn't even tired, far from it, with all the day's events.

X

Gran had fallen asleep, several times, but had always woken up no more than ten minutes later. He's slept for Thor knows how long on that blasted ship. Sleeping was the last thing he wanted to do right now. But, damn it all, he couldn't even leave this tiny forsaken house without that guard outside knowing about it.

Finally, he'd had enough. The entire village was in bed and guard outside was dosing off. Gran waiting until he was slumped against the house, snoring, to sneak to the shut window on the other side. He climbed up to it easily and slipped out into the darkness of Berk.

He wasn't really hurt. He was more sore than anything else, and a bit weathered from the ride here, maybe a little sunburned. Sneaking through Berk wasn't as difficult as he'd anticipated. Dragons slept like rocks, kicking their feet and waging tails, like pitiful house-pets. It was a shame, Gran thought as he passed yet another dragon stable built onto a house's side, that these magnificent beasts be reduced to such tame states. They were made for fire, destruction, and war, and here they were, napping.

It didn't take long to reach the rendezvous point at the secluded beach. Dagur had told him exactly how to get there from the village, strange how he knew it so well, and expected him there after dark. He slipped down and his feet hadn't met the sand before he saw the small ship pulled ashore, it's minimal crew meandering about. Dagur was staring out at the water behind him, arms crossed and face unreadable.

Gran wouldn't admit, but he liked Dagur. He wasn't the run of the mill ruler who wanted the best of his people, and peace, and whatever else was popular these days. He did was a ruler should, which was expand his empire. He wanted the world and would accept nothing less. Ruthless, clever, and crazy, Dagur was what Gran thought the ideal ruler should be.

"Well?" Dagur demanded as Gran approached.

"The village is empty. They're all asleep." Gran shrugged.

Dagur laughed, a low rumble, dangerous as it was enticing. "Alright. Now the fun begins. Men, stay here and…do something. I don't care. Just stay here and out of the way. Just make sure that no one, NO ONE, sees you."

"Aye," came a un-uniform round of responses.

"If you get us caught, and Berk doesn't kill you, I will." Dagur said, eyeing his crew one by one.

"Aye," came a similar round of tired answers. One man laid down and prepared for a nap.

Dagur left his crew behind and began to trek to the village above. Gran staggered behind him, unsure of what he wanted, when Dagur snapped back at him.

"Well, come on, if someone noticed you're gone the entire plan is ruined!" Dagur gritted his teeth.

Gran nodded and followed him back to the village.

X

Through Gran's distraction, Dagur had been able to sneak undetected onto Berk's hidden shore. While Gran meandered back to wherever they'd stashed him, Dagur took this opportunity to wander Berk freely. He crept through the village's center, aiming at Hiccup's house near the Great Hall, when something black caught his eye.

It was the Night Fury. Dagur paused to take in the scene, lucky to be far enough away that the dragon gave no notice, stalking in the shadows. Hiccup was standing beside him, hand on his snout, staying something Dagur couldn't hear. They were standing behind the blacksmith stalls which were darkened for the night. The Night Fury curled up as Hiccup went inside.

Dagur was debating whether to follow Hiccup or not when someone else took action. He recognized her, the girl, as she walked up to the smithy's darkness. She looked as determined as Dagur felt. With the dragon snoozing, Dagur chanced getting closer. The village was full of shadows to crawl through.

"…I don't like being mad at you."

Dagur heard as he approached the smithy. It was still dark, save for a candle that burned from within.

"I'd apologize but I don't know what for. I don't know what you want from me." Hiccup was saying. "It's not nothing I do it good enough."

"That's not it." the girl said, barely a whisper.

"Then tell me, Astrid, what's wrong?"

Astrid. That was her name. Dagur should have known that.

"It's…ever since, this, it's like every time I turn around there you are. You're being clingy, and every time I see you it's like you've got some stupid compliment wait. I don't need you constantly there, Hiccup. I can take care of myself."

"I'm sorry, I'm just trying to be a boyfriend. It's not like I've got instructions."

"Well stop. You were doing just fine before this whole official nonsense." Astrid sighed. "You don't have to try and be anything else. I love you just the way you are."

"Thank you, Astrid. And, I'm sorry. I'll try to stop trying."

Astrid laughed, and after that words were nonexistent. The wet sucking sound of lips replaced them, and his curiosity won out. Dagur slowly peeked out from the shadows and into the smithy's singular light. Astrid has a tight grip on the front of his shirt, holding close, while Hiccup's arms have snaked around her. She tugs on his hair. His hand roams her side and back. Their tongues battle it out without a clear victory.

She broke apart, and wiggled her way from his arms, and pulls on his hand with other of hers toward a small closet of a space. Hiccup half-laughed, and mumbled something that Dagur couldn't understand.

"Oh, come on, Hiccup, everyone is asleep. No one will know." Astrid was saying with a sly grin on her face.

Hiccup smiles, gives in, and lets her pull him into the little space. He grabbed the candle, taking it with them, and the space outside was again filled with darkness as a door closed swiftly and softly behind them.

Intrigued, Dagur drifted closer to the door. He rests an ear against it as fabric swished against fabric, clothing thumped on the floor, skin rushed against skin, and hushed erotic moans filled the silence.

"…Astrid," Hiccup's voice came in breathless gasps, panting her name, like some unreachable goddess. Her own sounds came equally breathless, mumbling his name as he had hers, between his own husky grunts.

"…harder," Astrid instructed, and before the word had completely left her mouth she cried out, "Hiccup!"

They must have been against something wooden, for it thudded into the wooden walls of the stalls with every thrust, its rhythm mimicking theirs. Dagur listened, intently, to the sound of their premarital lovemaking, something greater than intrigue welling in his chest. Hiccup was in love with that girl, Astrid, and to better destroy him, Dagur had to be love with her, or rather, a new obsession bloomed, a new incentive with which to cut Hiccup, and his dragon, and Berk, to bits of bloodied bone.

X

Dun dun DUN! See? Chopping this chapter into two would have been like tearing a warm cookie in half.