A/N: Thank you all again for your reviews! You guys rock!

A lot of you have been begging me for a happy ending. Well…truth is, I've already got the ending written. The story's finished, I'm just editing each chapter carefully before posting them. So I already know who lives and who dies. And…yes, there will be some deaths. This is, after all, the story of the Titanic. Only 700 people out of 2200 survived the sinking, so of course there are going to be some fatalities. As to who lives and who dies, well, my lips are sealed…

I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Eleven

To the Lifeboats

Monday, April 15, 1912

"Don't let go of my hand, okay?" Hinrik murmured to Astrid as they reached the door of his stateroom.

Astrid nodded, and Hinrik unlocked the door and swung it open. Stanford was sitting on the couch and looked up as they entered. "Father, I have to tell you…" He broke off, eyes widening. He'd just realized that Stanford wasn't the only one in the room. Grant, Heather, and Milton were all there, and they all looked very serious. For a moment Hinrik wondered if they already knew about the iceberg.

Then he saw how they were all looking at his and Astrid's joined hands, and he figured it out.

He took a deep breath and said, "Something serious has happened."

"Indeed it has," Grant huffed, looking distinctly peeved. Hinrik could only imagine what was going through the man's mind. He was probably thinking up a hundred ways to kill the foolish young man who had broken his daughter's heart.

"Oh Hinrik," Heather said, and she sounded like she was on the brink of tears. "How could you?"

Hinrik glanced at her and his eyes traveled down to her hands. His heart stuttered. She was clutching his sketch of Astrid.

Oh great.

"That's not what I came here to tell you," Hinrik said. "There's a problem with the ship. We've— "

Heather cut across him, "How could you do this to me, Hinrik? How could you just cast me aside like…like garbage?"

Hinrik huffed in irritation. "There are more important things going on right now than whatever's happening between us, Heather."

"How dare you?!" she fairly shrieked at him. Astrid squeezed his hand, whether out of reflex or to offer him comfort, he didn't know. "More important? What could possibly be more important than you betraying me, going back on your promise, you traitor?!"

"We've hit an iceberg," Hinrik said, looking to his father, whose eyes widened at the news. "The engines have stopped and we overheard some of the crew talking about the pumps getting ahead of the flooding. I think the ship's been damaged. I don't know how badly, but I think it would be best to get ready to go up to the Boat Deck."

There was a stunned silence. Grant was the first to break it with a muttered, "Preposterous!"

Stanford stood up. "Are you sure about this, son?"

"Positive," Hinrik replied. "I saw the iceberg myself. We both did." He glanced at Astrid, who nodded. "And we noticed that the ship seems to be listing slightly. Don't you feel it?"

Stanford frowned and looked at the floor. Now that he thought about it, it didn't feel completely level…

Heather walked forward. "Father, Mr. Haddock, may I please have a word alone with Hinrik?"

Grant nodded, and Stanford shot Hinrik a significant look – Hinrik thought it looked like a silent apology – and said, "Of course."

Hinrik sighed and turned toward Astrid, who seemed nervous. "It's fine," he said softly. "This won't take long."

Astrid hesitated and then let go of his hand. Hinrik turned and followed Heather to the bedroom, closing the door behind him. Turning to face her, he said, "Look, Heather—"

She slapped him across the face. His head rocked back but he didn't make a sound. "How dare you," she hissed. "How dare you run off with that little slut after I told you to stay away from her?"

"Astrid is not a slut," Hinrik retorted coldly. "She is the kindest, most wonderful woman I've ever met. She makes me happy, Heather. Unlike you, who have done nothing but made me miserable since the day I met you."

Heather looked taken aback but her eyes still sparked with fury. Looking down at the drawing still in her hands, she tore it to shreds. Hinrik flinched but didn't say anything. "You'll regret this," she snarled as the pieces of his sketch fluttered to the floor. "I warned you what would happen if you sought out—"

"You don't have to worry about that," Hinrik interrupted. "I'm calling it off, Heather. I don't love you, I never will. Our engagement is over."

Heather's jaw dropped. She hadn't prepared for this. She'd hoped to force Hinrik to his knees begging for her forgiveness, promising that he'd do whatever she asked if she would pardon him and not call off the marriage. But now…what could she do?

"You…you can't…" she gasped.

"No?" Hinrik raised his eyebrows. "I believe I just did. True, I'll have to find a way to explain this to the family and all those who got a wedding invitation, but that's only a minor inconvenience in the long run."

"But…how will you pay for your mother's medicine?" Heather asked, and her back straightened in triumph. There. She'd found Hinrik's weak spot.

But to her utter amazement, Hinrik didn't back down. "I don't know," he answered honestly. "But I'll find a way. And if not…" He sighed. "…I'll live with it."

Heather just stared at him for a moment. When she didn't say anything else, Hinrik asked, "Was there anything else you wished to discuss?"

She didn't answer. The abrupt end of their engagement left her totally speechless. Satisfied, Hinrik nodded once and turned back to the sitting room door.

Stanford, Grant, Milton, and Astrid were all standing right where they had been when he'd left. They all watched him, studying his face for any sign of what had happened behind the closed door. Astrid's eyes went right to the red mark on his cheek and she frowned furiously, but she didn't say anything about it.

"Right," Hinrik said, a little uncomfortable with all the attention focused on him. "Well…like I said, I think we should—"

There was a knock on the door and a steward entered. "Pardon the intrusion, sirs…and miss," he added on seeing Astrid. "I've been told to ask you to please put on your lifebelts and come up to the Boat Deck."

Grant's eyes widened. "Whatever for?" he demanded. "It's the middle of the night!"

"I'm sorry about the inconvenience, sir," the steward said with a little bow of his head. "But it's the captain's orders. Please dress warmly, it's quite cold tonight." Heather emerged from the bedroom, and seeing and misinterpreting the look on her face he added, "Not to worry miss, I'm sure it's just a precaution."

"Thank you," Stanford said to him. "We'll be right up."

The steward nodded and left, closing the door behind him. Stanford looked at Hinrik. "Well, son. Let's go then." Looking over at Grant he added, "We'll see you topside."

Grant nodded and led Heather from the room. At the door, she glanced back at Hinrik but he wasn't paying attention. He was talking to Astrid.

"My lifebelt's in my room down below," she was saying. "I'd better go get it."

"I'd feel much better if you didn't," Hinrik replied. "I'm sure we can get an extra one for you."

"It's not just that," Astrid said earnestly. "Riley and Terry are down there, Hinrik. They might not know the extent of the danger, and I don't know if anyone will tell them where to go. I've got to help them."

Hinrik hesitated. The thought of Astrid going belowdecks when the ship was in trouble (he didn't dare even think the word "sinking" yet) made him feel uneasy. But he sighed and said, "All right. I'll meet you on deck." Then he kissed her and added, "Be safe."

"I will," Astrid returned with a small smile, and she left, hurrying toward the grand staircase.

Hinrik accepted his lifebelt from Stanford when he handed it over. "So," he said as they headed for the door. "What did Heather want to talk to you about?"

"I think I did most of the talking, actually," Hinrik replied, glancing around to make sure Heather and Grant weren't nearby.

"And?" Stanford looked like he wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Hinrik half-smiled as he said, "I'm officially a bachelor again."

Stanford grinned and clapped him on the shoulder.

They followed the crowd of first class passengers to the grand staircase and went up to A Deck, where they paused. The other people were milling about uncertainly, unaware of the nature of the situation. They were all dressed in a strange assortment, some in pajamas, others wrapped in furs. They all either had their lifebelts on or carried them over their arms. No one looked even the least bit worried, which baffled Hinrik. But then again, they all thought the ship was safe, and none of them had seen the iceberg.

"Stanford!"

The Haddocks both looked around to see Gunnar heading their way, looking rather silly in a lifebelt that was a bit too small for his stout frame. "What on earth is going on?"

"We've hit an iceberg, according to Hinrik," Stanford replied. "Apparently it damaged the ship."

"Ah," Gunnar rolled his eyes. "I rather doubt it. I expect this is some kind of business move. They want to brag that the company is the safest in the world so they drag us out of bed for no reason to put us off in little boats when there's no danger whatsoever just so they can say their passengers' safety is their priority." He shook his head. "Ridiculous."

Hinrik frowned. "I don't think that's it, Gunnar." He said. "I think the ship's in real trouble."

Gunnar eyed him curiously, apparently trying to decide whether Hinrik was overreacting or not. But before he could say anything, Grant and Heather arrived, the latter pointedly not looking at Hinrik. "Damn inconvenience," Grant muttered. "Why bother with all this when the ship is quite safe?"

"What if the ship isn't safe, Grant?" Stanford asked. "What if there really is danger?"

Grant scoffed. "Danger? To the Titanic? Don't be absurd. This ship is unsinkable, remember?"

Stanford said something in reply, but Hinrik didn't hear it. His heart had begun to hammer like a war drum in his chest, and the sound of his pulse filled his ears. "Unsinkable." There was that word again. A word that linked the Titanic to the fictional ship Titan from that book he'd read. Biggest ship afloat, a grand floating palace, considered to be as safe as can be and carrying too few lifeboats for everyone aboard. Both had hit an iceberg on a cold April night.

The Titan had gone down, taking most of her passengers with her.

Hinrik looked around the staircase at all the laughing, gossiping people. Was the Titanic doomed to the same fate?

After some time, they finally made their way up the staircase, though they didn't immediately go out onto the Boat Deck. The crew was still uncovering the boats, and the ship's funnels were letting out an ear-splitting roar they could hear even from inside the brightly-lit foyer. "What is making that awful noise?" Heather asked her father.

"The funnels are letting off steam," Grant explained. "Since the engines have stopped, there's nowhere else for the steam to go."

A few minutes later, the racket quieted down and the officers began putting people into the boats. "Come on," Hinrik said, leading Stanford outside. The frigid night air hit him like a slap in the face, and behind him his father grumbled, "God, it's cold!"

They gathered uncertainly near one of the boats. The officer was calling for women and children only. Grant suggested Heather go but she refused. "I will not get in that tiny little thing!" she cried. "Why would I get into a lifeboat when the ship is perfectly safe? You must be out of your mind!"

Hinrik rolled his eyes and was about to tell her that the ship was not perfectly safe, but as it turned out, he didn't have to. There was a loud noise and a burst of light, and they all looked up to see a white rocket explode against the black sky, sending a shower of sparks down to the sea. Though no one mentioned it, the mood immediately became more doubtful. It was easy to joke about the situation when one was convinced of safety. But everyone on the deck knew a ship didn't fire rockets at sea for no reason. It was a distress signal. They were hoping to attract the attention of any ship that may be nearby, asking them to come to their aid.

"Dear, perhaps it would be best if you got in," Grant said after a moment.

Though visibly shaken by the sight of the rocket and all its implications, Heather was still reluctant. She stepped forward slightly but made no move to get into the little wooden craft hanging in the davit. Looking around at some crewmen bustling nearby she called, "Will the lifeboats be seated according to class?"

No one answered her. They were all too busy. She huffed and looked back at the others. "I hope they're not too crowded," she remarked.

This was too much for Hinrik. "Oh Heather, shut up!" he snapped, grabbing her by the arms and forcibly turning her to face him. She gaped in shock. "Don't you understand? The water is freezing and there aren't enough boats, not enough by half!" He glanced swiftly up the deck, his eyes scanning the people who were watching the proceedings, staying back, refusing to get into the boats. Looking back at Heather he hissed, "Half the people on this ship are going to die."

Heather recovered and glared coldly at him. "Not the better half," she retorted.

Hinrik's arms fell limp at his side. Now it was his turn to gape at her. The full implications of her words struck him. Astrid was a third class passenger. Her chances of getting into a boat were slim, and Heather knew it.

"You bitch," he snarled.

Heather turned away and looked back at the boat. Grant stepped forward and helped her clamber into the craft swinging gently over the black abyss below. She sat down on a bench and sent Hinrik a triumphant little smile.

It was this that set Hinrik into motion. Turning to Stanford and speaking loud enough for Heather to hear, he said, "Father, I'm going below. I've got to find Astrid and get her into a boat."

Heather's smile vanished but Hinrik didn't look at her. He was gazing up at his father as the man's face went pale. He seemed to be about to tell his son not to go, to stay on the Boat Deck where he was safer, but something made him stop. Maybe it was the determined look in Hinrik's eyes, a look he knew well. Once they got that gleam, there was no stopping him. So instead he smiled and said, "All right, son. Just…promise me you'll be safe."

Hinrik grinned and said, "I'll try."

Stanford opened his mouth to speak, closed it again, and then pulled Hinrik into a bone-crushing hug. "I…I love you, Hinrik," he murmured, his voice shaking.

Hinrik blinked in surprise, but then he returned the embrace and said, "I love you too, Dad."

They drew apart and looked at each other for a moment. Neither of them said it, but they both knew that they were thinking the same thing: this might be the last time they saw each other. Then Stanford clapped Hinrik on the shoulder and said, "Go find her, son. Get her to safety. And…" His voice shook as he added, "…please try to save yourself as well."

Hinrik felt his throat tighten. He nodded. "I will, Dad. And you…you be safe too."

Stanford smiled weakly and released his son's shoulders. Hinrik stayed motionless for a moment longer before he turned and hurried away.

Heather watched all this with narrowed eyes. "Father," she said in a soft voice, "would you do something for me?"

"Anything, my dear," Grant replied, taking her hand.

"First of all, go back to my room and take some of my jewelry," Heather instructed. "Third class might be wandering around up here before the night's out and I don't want them to break in and steal anything. Second…" She glanced after Hinrik, who was disappearing back into the ship. "…make sure you get Hinrik into a boat. I don't care how you do it, but make sure he survives. And…" Her voice lowered to a whisper that Grant had to lean in to hear. "…make sure the Hofferson girl does not."

A/N: I love Hiccup/Hinrik-Stoick/Stanford father-son moments!