Three days dragged by.

No, not one. Not two. Three. Obviously Sir Ousmand wasn't very good at following instructions. But when those three days finally passed, Hiccup felt like it had only been a minute.

He had prepared (for the most part) what he would say to the king. He'd start with the Great Battle three years before and work his way up to discussing Berk and the threat of the war. He would include everything the king asked him to talk about, but end with what Hiccup needed to ask about. An army.

Just one big recipe for distaster. Great. Or as the French say, "merde."

During Hiccup's time at the castle, the court and nobility were buzzing about the mysterious new arrival. Huh, "mysterious." Hiccup wasn't really the mysterious type. Mysterious people didn't accidentally run into stable doors. Of course, everyone knew about Toothless. Whispers followed Hiccup whenever he left his room to visit Toothless or go to the library. Even just to take a look around the different passageways with the terrific architecture. Interestingly enough, Hiccup never ran into the noblewoman with the black cat again. He did, however, run into a few other women - women who batted their eyes and smiled whenever he passed them. They always hung around the wing of the castle where Hiccup was staying, and it frustrated him to no end.

The morning of his fourth day in Francium, Hiccup woke up especially early. The bell from the castle's chapel tolled an hour before sunrise. It must have been Sunday. Sunday already? The noise was especially jarring to Hiccup because his room was situated across the courtyard from the chapel. Oh well, he couldn't sleep anyway. He was just... nervous, that was all.

An hour after Hiccup woke, someone knocked at the bedchamber door to give him a few hours heads up.

"Hoquet?" Jean-Marc's muffled voice sounded from behind the door. Hiccup looked up from the scroll he was reading again. He haphazardly pulled on his tunic (which one of the servants had taken to be washed, then returned in pristine condition) and opened the door. There was Jean-Marc, looking out of breath and nervous as usual. In French, he said,

"The Head of Council told Sir Geoffrey, who told a lady-in-waiting, who told servant Claude, who told me that the king plans to meet with you at noon. You have four hours to prepare. J-just thought I should let you know." He looked at Hiccup apprehensively. Hiccup watched as the little boy got more and more flustered.

Poor guy... why does he look so intimidated? It's just me... just thin, freckled, seventeen-year-old me with the metal leg. Why me? ... I guess he just knows I've got a dragon here, and he's afraid of that? Maybe he's not necessarily intimidated by me. Yeah... that's probably it.

"Thank you, Jean-Marc" Hiccup gave the boy a comforting smile. The boy went red in the face all over again. Hiccup really did feel bad. The boy must have nerve issues or something.

"So... noon, huh? Five hours should be plenty of time, I'll make sure I am ready." Hiccup felt a little bit proud of how much his French had improved in the last few days. Spending time in the stables, chatting with the stablehands and the servant in the library had really helped. Jean-Marc also spoke with him each day, but very infrequently. The boy was just so shy.

"Jean-Marc... I hope it's okay for me to ask but, why do you always look so nervous? Is it... is it because I brought a dragon here? Because he can't get up here in the rooms, and he wouldn't hurt you anyway, I swear."

The boy shuffled from one foot to another, not looking at Hiccup.

"No... I'm not afraid of your dragon... I actually went to feed him some fish in the stable the other day, he seems really friendly." His face turned an even deeper red. Hiccup was surprised.

"You've met Pas Dents already then? That's... well, that's great! I'm glad you're not afraid of him."

Jean-Marc lifted his head, his eyes wide. "What? You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad? So you went to the stable and made friends with a dragon. That's pretty great. Brave in fact. I'm glad that you did that."

Jean-Marc beamed. "Really? B-brave?"

By Odin's eye, this boy was reminding Hiccup more and more of himself when he was Jean-Marc's age. Hiccup nodded.

"Yeah, of course! I'm just a little confused though. Is that all you were nervous about? It's... well, you just always seem a little edgy whenever you come around to make a wake up call or show me around. Why?"

Jean-Marc went back to looking at his own feet. He clasped his hands behind his back, his head bent low enough that all Hiccup saw was the top of his sandy-haired head.

"Well..." he began. "It's uhh..." he shuffled his feet again. Then his head popped back up and he said in a rush, "It's just that, I think it's so amazing how you were able to train a dragon like that, and I heard you were friends with it for years so you were a lot younger than you are now when you trained it so you must be smart and brave, braver than you said I was, and you're an adventurer and you came all the way from where Vikings live, and you're a Viking! I hear a lot of stories about Vikings when I'm talking with the other servants, and all the stories say the Vikings are big and tough and dangerous, and brave of course, and how they'll kill you if you get on their bad side and I thought, I wish I could be like you because you would never get bossed around or take 'no' for an answer, and people respect you and..." Jean-Marc trailed off, looking like he regretted saying everything he'd just said.

Hiccup was able to figure out most of what the boy was talking about, and understood just how he felt. The typical Viking figure was feared and respected, thought to outsize grown men of other cultures. When he was a little boy, Hiccup himself feared the bigger Vikings of his village and stayed far away from the scariest-looking ones. Now that he was in his late teens, he was pretty tall, especially in comparison to everyone he'd met so far in Francium. He was a Viking, it was in his blood to be of a larger size for survival. As for the adventurer part... Hiccup could be an adventurer - sort of. He'd come all the way from Berk to speak with the king of a foreign country, and on a dragon. Jean-Marc was right when he said Hiccup was brave to take on the task of training a dragon, especially a night fury. Toothless had every right to be feared. But above all, Hiccup was just flattered at how highly the servant boy spoke of him. To Jean-Marc, Hiccup wasn't just a twiggy, pale thing with coordination issues. To the boy, Hiccup was a brave Viking adventurer, and he liked that. It definitely affected his confidence - in a good way. He looked at Jean-Marc with a gratified expression. Then he knelt down on one knee, the boy's face now level with his own. Mustering up the best choice of words he could think of, Hiccup spoke kindly to the boy in French.

"Jean-Marc... I don't know what to say. It... It makes me so happy that you think I'm some amazing person who goes on adventures with dragons and explores the world as a fearless Viking. But the truth is, you shouldn't have to be nervous around me. I'm not the kind of person you should have to be afraid of. You want to know why?"

Jean-Marc nodded.

"Because," Hiccup continued, "I was just like you. I still am a bit like you, in fact. And I'm also scared, just of different things. Where I come from, I'm small by my people's standards."

Jean-Marc looked dubious. Well, the boy was fairly small anyway, and Hiccup positively towered above him when he was standing. Hiccup chuckled again and went on.

"And you see, I might have been brave when I met Pas Dents, but I was also scared. You can be brave and scared at the same time, you know. And when you say there's no one telling me what to do, that's where you're wrong. I have a lot of responsibilities back at home. To be frank, I'm a tinker and a trainer, I've fought a battle, but I'm not really a great warrior. Which is fine. Not that I wouldn't want to be a great Viking warrior but... you get my point."

Jean-Marc grinned and looked back at Hiccup.

"Yeah... yeah, I do. Thank you sir-" Hiccup held up a hand.

"Please, call me Hoquet."

The little boy giggled. "Really? Okay, Hoquet. It sure is a funny name - oh! Sorry."

Hiccup only laughed, putting the boy at ease.

"It's fine. I think it's a funny name, too."

Right on the hour, two of the king's Royal Servants came at noon to escort Hiccup to the throne room. It was just a five minute walk from the wing where Hiccup's room was located to the entrance of the throne room, in the wing directly past the courtyard. Toothless had to wait in the courtyard while Hiccup was talking with the king. The Head Councilman didn't want any "disturbances" among the guards - he didn't want a repeat of the last time. Toothless didn't have to listen to those ridiculous orders, obviously, but he knew enough from the look Hiccup gave him to realize how important this was. Hiccup couldn't screw this up, not when he was this close. So Toothless, albeit begrudgingly, sat with Jean-Marc and the Head Servant in the courtyard near the throne room while Hiccup was inside. He allowed the young boy to scratch him behind his ears while they waited. The night fury kept on watch though, ready for anything.

The doors were shut, the carved, sturdy oak staring down on Hiccup with pretentiousness. What made it even worse was the two guards stationed at either side of the doors - and one of them was Hiccup's absolute favorite person in the whole world: Sir Ousmand.

"Beurk" the yellow-toothed guard hissed from his station. "If it isn't the barbarian child himself. Where is your dragon now, boy?"

"Oh shut up" Hiccup hissed right back. He was so done with this man's pompousness. "Sir Grease-mand. Pas Dents is waiting in the courtyard. I can call him if you want. He might be hungry."

Ousmand turned a chalky white color and shook his hand about.

"No, no, I didn't mean it. I was only joking, I am sorry. Just don't bring the demon here."

Hiccup snorted and looked away from the guard. Then with a jump he heard a trumpet sound as the heavy doors were pulled open. His name was announced, and he looked across the room from where he stood center in the doorway to view the king himself.

There he was. King Charles III of Western Francium in all his warlike glory. He was settled on a gilt mahogany throne laden with precious stones on the backing. The throne, combined with the rich ensemble the king wore, gave Hiccup a very elegant first impression. The king was clean-shaven but for a thin mustache. He held his head high, a circlet of silver gleaming on the top of his chin-length brown hair. Charles was all of Francium's wealth personified.

"Entrez" the king commanded.

Ah geez, here goes nothing, Hiccup felt himself getting nervous. Trying to keep poised he stepped through the doorway and crossed the room. He halted when he reached the small set of stone steps leading up to the throne. Then, remembering the proper way to greet anyone of royalty, he bowed low.

"Your majesty, my name is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third."

"I know who you are."

Well, it seemed rudeness didn't just run in the guards.

"Right, uh, sorry."

"Well?" The king asked, watching Hiccup expectantly.

"Uh... excuse me, do you speak Norse?" Hiccup asked in French, the same as the king was speaking.

"Of course not. I've never needed to. I do not associate with barbarians."

Hiccup was confused, and a little offended. By a little offended he was very offended.

Who does this guy think he is?

"Er... excuse me? Who exactly did you say were the barbarians?" Hiccup asked while he tried to keep his head. He was already off to a bad start, and he'd hardly even said anything! Charles answered Hiccup casually.

"Your people. The Vikings. They are barbarians, those long-bearded savages who set fire to one of my villages this year and pillaged others many a year in the past."

Hiccup was dumbfounded. This man didn't know anything about the Vikings, did he?

"My people aren't barbarians. Or savages."

"Ah, you say so, but this land has been invaded and attacked by your kind for many years."

Hiccup was trying very hard to stay calm, but these French were really getting under his skin.

"Wait, now just a minute!"

"Do not raise your voice in front of me" the king instructed, with just a note of offense.

"Sorry, it's just, those people are not 'my kind.' My people don't steal or pillage or sail to different countries just to bother you. Those are pirates. Pirates invade other lands and pillage towns. The only thing we've ever warred with is the dragons, and we've finally made peace with them. My people are warriors, yes, but only when we need to be. We're... well, we're farmers, trainers, but not pirates. My people don't associate with them either. Those Vikings who invade your land and steal from you are outcasts, hostile tribes, and they're a minority to us. Most Vikings I know don't want to invade anyone's land. We just want to make a living and survive the weather most of the time."

The king sighed. It was like he had heard the same story many times before. Steepling his fingers, he answered,

"Very well. So I generalized. I still do not find any reason to speak Norse or associate with the bar - the Vikings. I allowed you to stay in my castle because I want to know your story, not excuses. Namely, I would like to hear your stories about the dragons. Your dragon interests me, Monsieur Haddock. Also..." the man's eyes lowered to Hiccup's false leg.

"I would very much like to hear how that happened." He inclined his head in the direction of the metal leg so that Hiccup knew what he was talking about.

"Go on. You may continue speaking" he said, reclining back in his throne.

No, please, insult me and my people, and make yourself comfortable while you're at it.

Hiccup pushed the sarcastic thoughts out of his head (Not all of them. That would be impossible.)

"I'll tell you about the dragons, from the beginning. The story of my leg sort of goes along with that. And I have something to ask of you, too."

The kind waved his hand in a motion to carry on.

"Yes yes, of course you need to ask something of me. Why else would you have come here? You may ask what you need, but after you tell me what I wish to know."

And so, Hiccup regaled the story he'd told so often back on Berk to the younger Viking kids. He kept his story brief, starting with some background of the centuries-long war between dragons and Vikings. He ended the story with his waking up after the fight with the Red Death and realizing his leg was missing. The king listened intently to the whole thing, furrowing his brow in some places and nodding in others. When Hiccup was finished, he took a deep breath.

"So the night fury is your closest friend then" Charles said.

"Yes."

"And you are now accepted as a soldier and hero in your tribe" the king added.

"Well... no"

"No?"

"Er... well you see, it's not really like that. I mean, I'm sort of a hero, I guess. But I'm still treated as me. Uh, that is, with a little more respect and all that. My father's gotten to accept me a lot more and I have some friends now, friends who actually listen to me sometimes. But a soldier ...not so much. Just Hiccup."

"Hmm" the king stroked his chin, pensive. "I see. Well, Hiccup, thank you for sharing your story. Now, I believe there was something you wished to ask of me? And I hope you don't think you're going to get it for nothing, whatever it is you're asking for."

"N-no, your highness."

"Well then by all means, ask away."

Hiccup bowed ever so slightly again.

"Yes Sir. To keep it short, Berk is being threatened by another tribe, the Askr Gotar. There's a very good chance we'll be going to war soon. The problem is, we already know we'll be far outnumbered, and the dragons might not save us this time. We don't really know what this other tribe is capable of. They could have bigger and better weapons, people who are experts in hunting and killing dragons, a bigger army. One of their own men hinted that they might have a sort of secret weapon they plan to use against us. What I'm asking you to do is send an army of men back with me to Berk, to help us fight. It doesn't have to be a massive army per se, but enough men to overpower the Askr Gotar." Hiccup stared at the ground. He felt like little Jean-Marc. "...Will you do it?"

The king stopped stroking his chin and looked at Hiccup.

"Will I send an army of my men to help your tribe from being conquered, in a war that has nothing to do with the state of my own country?"

Hiccup realized it did sound pretty unlikely. But he had hope. The king carried on with another question.

"And what will I get in return?"

Hiccup's heart sank. He hadn't really thought that far ahead.

"W-well I uh, I mean I - " he stuttered. He was floundering now.

"Nothing? No offer of, say, precious jewels? Gold? Land? Not that I need any of that. But then, I did tell you that I wouldn't be giving out free favors."

Hiccup stood there, thinking fast. Oh!

"W-well your highness, I've been getting the impression that dragons interest you quite a bit?"

"Yes, I suppose."

"I can teach you... to train them. I can show you how to train a dragon. With this knowledge, you could become the most powerful king in history!" Yes, that sounded good. Keep going, Hiccup, keep him interested. You need his help.

"Just think of it! The great king of Francium, taught by the vicious Viking warriors how to ride a dragon! Doesn't that sound impressive?"

The king went back to stroking his chin.

"Hmm... it's a thought... You will teach me how to train and ride a dragon?"

"Yes!" You sound too eager. Calm down. "I mean, yes, your highness. I can teach you."

"Now?"

Hiccup took a step back.

"Wha.. now? I'm - I'm sorry, but there's not enough time. Training a dragon can take a while, and on top of all that we'd need to find you an actual dragon, which will be hard to come by in a country like this. But I can teach you after you help Berk out. It's really important we get help as quickly as possible." He looked at the king anxiously. The king stopped stroking his chin but kept his hand where it was. He looked like he was deep in thought. After a few painful minutes, he let his hand drop to his lap and looked directly at Hiccup. Hiccup's heart beat a little faster. With a firm, steady tone, Charles spoke to Hiccup, who stood tense a few feet away.

"This war is not mine. It is not my country's. Sending my own people to fight a war that is so far away from home is pointless."

Hiccup's heart dropped past his stomach to his feet where it sat, cold and hopeless.

"Don't you see? They would have no reason for helping you, because it is not their land - not their families - who are being threatened by this war. That is a matter for your own people to figure out."

Hiccup rebutted, "I agree, this war isn't yours. And I understand exactly what you mean when you say that your country has nothing to worry about if you don't help us fight. But just hear me out! This war won't just be my people's problem in a matter of time. If my tribe is obliterated, there'll be no one to train the dragons. I've taught no one outside of my village how to train them. Please. This is the future, yours as well as mine, that we're talking about. You and your people, along with the rest of the world, could achieve great things with that knowledge! But now? Now you might not get the chance to learn it. And who knows? Maybe in time, the Askr Gotar will decide that they want to try and take Western Francium for themselves, too. Some Vikings invade other countries, just like you said. Time is running out your highness."

It was ridiculous, the things Hiccup found himself saying in his desperation. No one, especially the king, was going to buy a story like this. Still, in a way it was true. If Berk was taken down, no one else would ever have the knowledge that the tribe held. It would be a loss to the world. To the future of mankind, if you dug deep enough.

He tried one more time.

"Your majesty, if you do this for me - for my home - I can show you just what I mean when I say that I can provide you and your people with an incredible new future, where man and dragon exist peacefully together." Hiccup's body language itself was a desperate plea for help.

The king stood up. He nodded to one of the guards positioned by the door.

"Thank you, Hiccup," he said calmly. Hiccup looked back at the king with a new, growing hope. King Charles continued, "You are excused from the castle. I admire your determination, as well as your patience for traveling all this way to seek help. However, I cannot put my people at any more risk than they have been. Therefore I must refuse your request. I am sorry."

Hiccup gave little effort to prevent his jaw from going slack. He couldn't hold in the buildup of frustration any longer.

"Yeah? You should be!" He burst out. "My tribe could be wiped from existence, and you'll be sitting here with that thought weighing down on your conscience!" He felt like he no longer had control over his words, they just spilled out. King or no, Hiccup felt like this man needed to hear sense and it didn't matter how anymore. For the first time, King Charles looked genuinely taken aback. He held his chin up higher, and his own jaw was set firmly.

"I have already made my decision. Now, goodbye, Hiccup of Berk." King Charles the Straightforward. If he hadn't already lived up to his nickname, he sure as Hel had now.

So it really is no use after all. My own tribe will probably be killed. Berk will be taken from us. My family and friends will become slaves or be killed too. My only chance is to go to Normandy, and what if that doesn't happen either? What then? Hiccup's thoughts were a maelstrom of questions, conflict, and mixed emotions. But mostly anger and that terrible, growing anxiety. If he didn't have a chance here, he might not have a chance if he went anywhere else. He'd tried his best, and after coming so far he had ended up failing miserably.

The guard to whom the king had nodded stepped forward to escort Hiccup out of the throne room. Hiccup let himself be led out. No use fighting it now.