In the end, the crossing was smooth, if a little long and wet for her 'tastes. Vikings weren't meant to sit still for extended periods of time, but on a small boat, there was very little else to do. Astrid and Stoick had spent much of the trip settling disputes before they got out of hand, and had only sent two people swimming. Astrid was glad of the rain, it was grey and miserable, but it damened spirits which made her job easier. That said, she was very much looking forward to landing and getting dry again. Judging by the amount of fidgeting going on, she wasn't the only one.

"Didn't think you'd be so eager to get to shore, considering." She said, sliding into the seat next to the moustachioed smith.

"Ach, it's no' tha' bad, Bertha'll have forgotten all about it by now. Anyways, yer' the one I'm worryin' aboot, Don't ye be letting their Heir get under yer skin. She's almost as prickly as yerself"

"If I can deal with Snotlout, I can deal with whats-her-face. There's always a few challenges at a Thing, so there's plenty of time to show her up if she's irritating."

"I wouldna be so sure of yerself lassie. You might be one of our best, but Camicazi is supposed to be their best as well. It will nae be a walkover like it is back on Berk."

Astrid laughed at this, punching the older man lightly in the arm. "How tough can she really be? She sounds like a pampered princess."'

Gobber gave her such a serious look that it immediately quelled her mirth. "Don't let yer successes go to yer head. Ye've never won against Stoick, and their Chief trounced him at the last Thing. The Bogs are formidable warriors, we do not want to upset our alliance with them, even if it means eating a bit of humble pie."

"Are you suggesting that I lose on purpose?!" asked a suddenly indignant Astrid.

"Nae lass, that's not wha' I said. Yer expected te give it yer best shot at beating them, wha' I mean is don't underestimate them. They are tough, and they are or friends, so just try and keep the competition mostly friendly, for the sake of the tribe, not yor pride"

"Aye, you're right."

Astrid looked at the smith in a new light. It was easy to dismiss the older man as a ridiculous character, but there was a reason that Stoick and the others respected him. Underneath the bushy hair there was a keen mind. She made a mental note to remember that for future use


In the end, Hiccup and Cami had come up with a fairly simple plan to deal with the visit from the Hooligans. Toothless was to stay in the forest and keep the other dragons from being seen. An easy enough matter, Toothless was an alpha after all. Those who had partnered with Changewings were allowed to meet them at night, but there was a strict no-fly zone above the village. Hiccup had donned his black flight gear and helmet again, and was ensconced in the forge at the edge of the village. All they had to do now was wait, and hope the rain stopped soon.


It had been three days since the Hooligans had landed, and less than one day since Bertha and Stoick awoke after their 'non-competitive' drinking on the first evening. The constant gloom and painful hangovers suffered by most of the two tribes had lent the whole village a quiet and subdued air.

This was fine by Hiccup, who had split his time between the largely empty training arena and the quiet of his forge. He had been largely left alone by the visitors, though whether that was out of respect or them simply not noticing his presence through their hangovers was anybody's guess.
As he was making his way back to the forge from a morning's training at the arena Hiccup began to ponder what could be done to improve the streets. Rock and dirt may be traditional street materials, but these long days of rain had turned the hard-packed streets into rivers of thick sludge. Walking through it was especially difficult for those without two good feet, but after much tinkering, he had jury-rigged a sort of 'mud-shoe' to his prosthetic which prevented it sinking too far and clogging up. Beginning to trudge up the hill before the forge, he espied a figure struggling to stand further up the hill. Sighing, he picked up his pace and resigned himself to hauling another drunk out of the muck. As he drew closer, he was able to see the real reason the figure was unable to stand. The struggling man had lost a leg, twice it seemed. His left leg stopped mid-shin in a mess of splintered wood. Hiccup drew abreast of the man and ducked under his left arm, allowing the unknown man to stand fully.

"You have my thanks stranger, I don't know how far I would have gotten on my own."

As the man gazed at him, Hiccup felt his eyes go wide, and was suddenly very relieved to be wearing his face-obscuring helmet. Gazing thankfully at him was his cousin and one time tormentor-in-chief, Snotlout.

"Do you think you could help me to the forge? I'm hoping to meet the Smith… but I already have, haven't I?"

Hiccup merely nodded in reply and began to walk towards the building. The warmth and security of his 'home' suddenly seemed very far away. As they trudged through mud that was calf deep, Hiccup continued to fret. It was as though all the confidence and self-belief he had built up since leaving Berk had deserted him, and he was almost quaking in his boots. Furtunately, Snotlout was as oblivious as he had always been, and did not seem to notice his rescuers' discomfort.

"You know, it seems a little odd that you've visited the other tribes and not us. Is there a reason for that?" Snotlout asked, not looking up.

Hiccup considered for a moment before replying. It was more respectful than he had expected of his cousin, and it did deserve an answer. He kept his voice curt and hoarse, sounding very unlike himself.

"Comfortable as I am. Not need extra business. Berk suffers raids more often."

"A fair answer. That said, as Heir to the Hooligans, I would like to formally invite you to visit us, at your leisure. I will personally guarantee the safety of you, and any wares you bring."

It was a reasonable guarantee, when raids occurred most villagers just grabbed the closest weapons and worried about paying for them later. For traders, this could mean an entire haul could go, and tracking down who owed what was very tricky.

"Will consider. First, we get dry, and fix legs." Snotlout looked at him in surprise, and Hiccup pointed to his own prosthetic which, despite his modifications, was sinking into the mud with every step and was completely clogged up.