Chapter 3: Should Have Listened

Ship repair was always a messy affair. Stoick had always prided himself on a fleet of handsome ships. Oh, he knew their purpose as a means to an end, but there was power in the form of a well-made ship. Blasts would come, enemies would attack, and life and fate declared that ships were not always to last.

But ships were tools, weapons, a craft and a symbol. People knew the signs of a Viking ship and just what a Viking ship meant. To see one in shambles, pieces thrown together like wood in a bonfire, well, it was the crumbling of hope and power.

They didn't have a choice. He had been through it before and he would go through it again. Repair what ships could be repaired with whatever they could be repaired with and get his people home and away from his cursed island.

The maps of it would be burned.

He watched the few ships that had survived, sterns floating at angles from shore. Repairs were happening, more or less. It wasn't that his people didn't have the skill—they didn't have much to work with . The nature of repairs. At least they would be able to bring a few ships back.

If nothing else.

Stoick moved among them, arms crossed over his chest, eyes on the work. He moved steadily, gait long and powerful, though he felt dizzy and faint. And they probably knew it, which was precisely the reason he couldn't show it. That would be failure and they didn't need to see failure right now, not after he had led them on these crazy attack.

What had possessed him to do it?

He should have listened. Hiccup had been right. He never listened.

But he should have. He should have listened, just once. He should have listened. He should have listened. He should have listened.

The words drummed through his brain in the same agonizingly steady rhythm. As much as he wanted to drown himself at the moment, there was something reassuring about the phrase. He could cling to the repetition.

But he shouldn't be clinging to anything. He should be helping with the ships, preparing them. He was the chief and it was his job. No, he was the chief and he had given his command and no one would dare question him.

Hah. No one would even dare speak to them. Not even Gobber. Oh, he could see him wanting to say something, but he was good at keeping away.

He could barely speak at them. Not with the words in his head. At least they could keep him going.

Keep going. What was that good for? Keep going for what? Because he was incapable of listening his son was dead.

Because he hadn't listened.

And he let the phrase continue as he monitored the ships. They needed to be done quickly.

There was no way he was doing the funeral rites from this island.


"Hey."

Astrid looked up to see Ruffnut standing above her. She attempted a smile and failed. "Hey."

"We're taking the dragons back."

Dragons? Astrid couldn't comprehend that. "What?"

"Back to Berk. We're leaving."

"Oh. Yes. Of course we're leaving."

Ruffnut sat down next to her. "Unless you're going on the ship. It's almost ready. If you're going on the ship, I'll let the guys know and… well, do you want me to come with you?"

Asrid sighed and leaned against Ruffnut's shoulder. She had always appreciated these moments when the two of them could just be girls. "No. I'll go with you. Take the dragons back. I'm feeling up to it."

"I highly doubt that. You're a complete mess, I'm sorry to say."

And just why wouldn't she be a complete mess?

"I'm really sorry. No one expected any of this."

Astrid nodded. "I think I need to get off this island."

"Why do you think we're leaving?" Ruffnut bit her lip. "We also want to…. This was Fishlegs' idea… we have to figure something out. Apparently Stoick doesn't want anything to do with the dragons."

"Why?"

"Think about it."

"Did he say something to someone?"

Ruffnut shrugged. "It's Fishlegs talking. But he actually knows what he's talking about half the time and… well, none of us know what's going to happen."

Astrid jerked away. "You're worried about the dragons right now? That's all you can think about? Is how Stoick will react to the dragons?"

"Hey, hey, I didn't say that!" Ruffnut put her hands on Astrid's shoulders. "Calm down."

"I don't want to calm down. One of our friends is dead. Don't you get that?"

Ruffnut just stared at her, tears in her eyes. "I just wanted to…"

"I know, I know. I'm sorry." Oh, she hated feeling this way. "I'll come with you. I don't want to be on one of those ships with his body. I can't."

"We're leaving really soon."

Astrid nodded. "I'll be right there. I promise. I just need a walk."

"I won't let them leave."

"Thanks."

Without another look at Ruffnut Astrid stormed up the beach. From the corner of her eyes she could see the ship repairs. The boats looked hideous. Good. They deserved to look hideous. She came to the edge of the cave, where the rocks climbed up into a hill. She scrambled up it, not sure just what she was doing. But the climb was easy, and she liked the feel of the stone beneath her hands.

After a few minutes, something growled.

Toothless. Nestled among the stones, hidden from anyone at the shore. His tail curled around him, and she could almost see sores under his scales. His breathing was heavy, but those eyes would not leave her.

All she could do was stare.

The had fallen, Toothless and Hiccup. Crashed. And that was only at the end. Up above had been fire and smoke and… she closed her eyes and turned away from the dragon.

His growl slipped into a purr.

He hadn't done anything. He had done his best. He would never do anything to intentionally hurt Hiccup.

Not that such ideals changed the outcome.

Astrid sat on a rock and opened her eyes. Toothless still watched her.

She pulled out her knife.

He didn't blink.

"Hey, buddy," she whispered as she crawled toward him. He didn't move. Maybe it hurt him to move. "I'm not going to hurt you."

She thought she understood why they said Stoick hated the dragons.

It wasn't fair.

She took the blade to the riding gear. She couldn't very well cut through most of the metal, but she did what she could with praying and twisting. Toothless sat docily through it. Or maybe too tired to move. Finally the metal mess fell away.

Including the tail. The tail was no good anymore.

He made some sort of noise in her throat. She couldn't tell if it were good or bad.

But he let her stroke his face.

It was the most painful thing she had ever done. With a sigh she pulled away. "I need to go. I'm sorry."

It was only when she was back on the beach that she realized Toothless had no way off the island.