Twenty Five: Prepare for War!
"It's not over," Hiccup said from his bed, his head pillowed on one arm and eyes focussed on the council in his room. Astrid was perched on the bed by his feet with Arild on her lap and Fishlegs, Ruff, Tuff, Sven One, Mulch, Snotlout and Jorgen were all squashed in the cabin, leaning against every possible surface. Snotlout frowned.
"What d'you mean, cuz?" he asked thoughtfully.
"Drago," Hiccup sighed, shifting his position slightly. Despite Astrid's attentive care and frequent doses of the poppy elixir that enabled him to function enough to get out of bed and actually do a little work, he was taking a very long time to recover from the dismal wounds they had inflicted upon him. Unconsciously, his hand gently stroked hers and she shyly curled her fingers round his. "He had a fleet that we seriously inconvenienced when we encountered it. Now he will be even more mad because Dagur was taking me to him as a gift." He paused. "Apparently, he's really angry we blew up his flagship."
Immediately, the twins high-fived and whooped excitedly. "That was like a MILLION points," Tuff said eagerly.
"TWO million!" Ruff agreed and they head-butted each other, both collapsing to the floor, rubbing their foreheads. Astrid frowned.
"Um…do they do that often?" she asked. With a roll of the eyes, he nodded and gave a sigh.
"All the time," he admitted. "It's a wonder they don't end up forgetting their own names…"
"And rumour has it he wants you back…wants his slave back," Fishlegs repeated helpfully. Snotlout frowned.
"Hey, hey-what's that?" he asked. With a shudder, Hiccup pressed his hand to his chest and closed his eyes.
This was it-the moment you knew would come, Hiccup told himself then forced himself to open his eyes and face his crew as he pulled his bandages down enough to reveal the horrible brand.
"I got it when he tortured me for information on how to invade Berk," he revealed reluctantly and then stiffened. "Invade Berk. the largest Navy in the Archipelago and the most powerful defensive force before the Mainland. If Berk falls, there will be no one left to block his path right through the Archipelago. Berserk will be Drago's ally-Gods, I already know Dagur has a relationship with Drago!…and I can't see the Outcasts bravely defending alone by themselves, despite all the Treaties they have ostensibly signed. Their leader isn't called the Treacherous for nothing!"
"So he'll be heading for Berk," Snotlout said in sudden concern.
"Master Viggo rejected your warning," Fishlegs reminded Hiccup. "So the pirates won't be helping either."
"We could all just sail south and away from the chaos," Sven One suggested. As one, everyone turned to glare at him. "What? Every pirate for himself and Loki takes the hindmost, remember?"
"Drago's ships are huge, very difficult to break down and heavily armoured," Hiccup reminded him. "We need more floating shots and we need Berk mobilised." His green eyes flashed with urgency and everyone stared. Voicing what everyone else was thinking, Astrid sighed.
"Hiccup-you can't go back to Berk," she reminded him. "Nor can Fury!" There was pause before he acknowledged the point with a sigh.
"No," he admitted, "but I'm going anyway. Because someone has to talk some sense into the Governor." Snotlout sighed.
"Won't work, cuz," he sighed. "Magne will already have taken over as heir-and we all know he's a treacherous little shit. Stoick won't be allowed to listen or act on any warning…"
"What makes you think I'll make an appointment and walk in any time your bastard brother is there?" Hiccup snapped, his green eyes flashing. His anger wasn't directed as Snotlout but at himself, for his stupid stubbornness in doing something he knew was very very stupid and suicidal…but which he was going to do anyway. "I will give Stoick one warning because even if he deserves to die, not everyone in the Archipelago does."
"Even so, cuz…he may not listen to you," Snotlout admitted. "He's become very stubborn and inflexible."
"Then I need to visit the blacksmith," Hiccup decided. "He betrayed me once…but he is the best blacksmith in the Archipelago…and I need Gobber to help me make enough floating shots to stop Drago…permanently." Fishlegs sighed, hearing the determination in his voice.
"Okay-I'll set the course for Berk."
oOo
It was after dinner when Governor Stoick paced his large, marble-lined mansion, listening to the empty echoes and feeling an equal emptiness in his heart. His son had been cast aside five years ago-and now his Heir, his beloved surrogate son, Snotlout, had betrayed him by stealing the pirate ship and running off with Astrid Hofferson. He stopped and his huge hands bunched into fists. That woman seemed to be at the centre of every disaster to befall the Governor. Half of Berk was in uproar, her father had hired expensive lawyers who were harrying Stoick and Magne had assumed he was now Heir and was was behaving as if he already owned Berk.
Forcing the tension from his huge frame, Stoick sighed and slowly paced back towards his office. He had dedicated his life to Berk, to serving and protecting the people as his father had taught him and his father before him. And he had hoped, when Hiccup was born, so small and disappointing, that Valka would quicken again and produce him the son he deserved and needed, a big strapping lad like Snotlout or Magne. But Valka had died suddenly, leaving him with the single child and an island to run. Deprived of his hopes, his love and the prospects of a better heir, he buried his grief in his work and ignored the disappointment that Hiccup had become. And though his tutors reported the boy was brilliant, exceptionally smart and well ahead of his peers in academic subjects, Stoick had disregarded the boy. In his mind, no amount of academic success would overcome the fact that he was so small, so weak and frail and Stoick had realised he would never be suitable to succeed him.
And then the boy had been stubborn, defiant and duplicitous. He had befriended the Hofferson girl and refused to renounce the friendship. Judgement hazed by rage and ultimate disappointment, Stoick had been determined to understand why his son had betrayed him but Hiccup hadn't helped when he had refused to comply with his father's questions: finally Stoick had been so determined to enforce his will that he had actually tortured his own son. The result had been catastrophic: he had finally disowned Hiccup and thrown him from his life. And the only regret had had was his decree in forbidding the people of Berk from offering him any help-because it had been cruel and appeared vindictive. True, the boy would still have needed to leave the island but he would not been condemned to starve. Pausing to rub the bridge of his nose, he shook his head to dispel the futile ruminations. The boy had made his choices and was paying the price: banishment and now slavery. He was no longer Stoick's concern.
He opened the door into his office and walked in-and then he started as a hand snatched the sword from his hip and shoved him forward. Before he could even react, the door slammed shut behind him and the click of the lock told him he was trapped. Behind him, there were three sets of breathing, but it was the three shapes standing by his desk that had him frozen, grey-green eyes widening in shock. To the right of his chair behind the desk stood Astrid Hofferson, dressed like a cross between a pirate and a Viking. Her leather headband, leather vest and skirt, tunic and leggings and old-style axe slung across her back were very different to the elegant and poised woman that she had become. Her expression was cold and determined. To the left of the chair stood his (former?) heir, Snotlout. The stocky young man had a grim expression as well, his blue eyes cold, his white shirt unfastened at the neck and black waistcoat open. A sword was sitting ready on his hip and his arms were folded.
Between them, seated comfortably in the Governor's chair, was the lean and relaxed shape of Captain Fury. The man seemed perfectly fit despite his captivity and slavery in the galleys, his head inclined on one side, his black scarf covering the lower half of his face, his forest green eyes glittering with calculation as he faced the massive shape of the Governor-his father. He was clothed in a deep red tunic, a cloak over his shoulders and sword belt round his waist….and he was holding a pistol pointed directly at the Governor's heart.
"Please, give me a reason," he said roughly. Stoick remained stock still.
"A murderer like you doesn't need a reason," he growled.
"And yet only one of us has tried to kill the other-and that wasn't me…was it…Dad?" Fury snapped. "Had I wanted you dead, I would have killed you went I disarmed you on your cruiser. Or left you to be wrecked by Drago's ship. Or left you on Drago's ship. Or executed you for planning to hijack my ship as we sailed back to Berk. All those opportunities…wasted…if I had truly wanted you dead. But I never did. Yet you condemned me to die as a fifteen year old boy for the crime of having a friend and falling in love!"
"You knew my decree!" Stoick told him grimly.
"And yet you never cared," Hiccup said, dragging his scarf down to reveal his battered face. "You abandoned me-and I could never figure why. I never knew what I had done wrong when I did everything I could to make you proud, to make myself the best possible Governor I could be. Yet I never saw you, never got more than an occasional word of disapproval. I believe I was orphaned when Mom died. I had no friends until I met Astrid…and later, when Snotlout decided that watching Magne beat me up was too hard to bear. So what was your decree when the alternative was being almost utterly alone?"
"You shamed me," Stoick growled.
"You betrayed me," Hiccup told him. "I only survived because a couple of people ignored your decree and helped me. Otherwise, I would have perished before the pirates rescued me from Berk."
"Gobber?" Hiccup gave a grim lopsided smile at the question, shaking his head slightly.
"No, you would have been proud of him," he said coldly. "He chose you over me without a hesitation. Hel, he literally threw me out of the forge, shouting at me that I was a traitor and a disgrace to Berk. You know, he was my surrogate father and his rejection hurt more than yours. But by then, the damage was done. He wasn't any more guilty than the rest of the citizens, because he believed in you. He trusted you."
"And you undermined that trust," Stoick growled. "They all look at me like I am some sort of a monster, almost as if I am a child abuser."
"YOU ARE!" Hiccup shouted, rising to his feet, a hand placed flat on the desk to support himself as the pistol remained levelled at the Governor's heart. "You ignored me for years. You neglected me for years. You beat me frequently for the slightest excuse. You tortured me because I fell in love with a girl you did not approve of. And you threw me out to die. No father could ever do that!" He was breathing hard. "I have a son." Stoick's eyes widened and his memory recalled the small, jet-haired green-eyed shape of the boy. "And I would never abuse him the way you abused me. I would rather kill myself first." He paused and the fury in his eyes receded a little. "But now you finally have the Heir you deserve: Magne. And he reckons he can do what he wants because you're all out of heirs. So he spends his time in the jail plotting with Lord Hofferson to overthrow you as Governor and gift Berk to Drago…as an ally."
The scornful tone stinging his overdeveloped pride, Stoick scowled at him in hatred. "You are a poisonous piece of work," he sneered. Hiccup sighed and sat stiffly down.
"Wow, thanks, Dad," he shot back, his aim with the pistol steady. "Shame you only have insults and no intelligence! I spent one afternoon in the town and found out the intelligence from one of the jailers. What the Hel have you been doing? Magne was the one after all who carried those weapons to Drago. He is a traitor to Berk…and yet you have him as your heir. He'll sell Berk to the Lord of the North for his own advancement." He sighed. "Dagur is also allying with Drago. In fact, he thought I would make a nice gift to him…until my crew came to fetch me. But Berk has few allies and all the word is that Drago is coming. And soon."
"So you've delivered your message, cutthroat!" Stoick snarled. "Now go back to your wretched hole. And I will be sending everything after you. This time I won't be lenient. I'll see you swing!"
"Sir-it's a shame you never listen to your son," Snotlout said coldly. "Because he knows more about what is happening on Berk-and the Archipelago-than you. He's giving you advice you need to listen to…but if you don't, then one day soon, you'll be talking with Drago, not Hiccup!" The pirate Captain stared into the implacable eyes of his father and sighed. Then he nodded.
Stoick was clubbed over the head by Fishlegs and Sven and folded to the floor. Her face cold and expressionless, Astrid stared at the huge, unconscious form and sighed. "Well, that was a waste of time," she concluded. Hiccup gave a weary nod and painfully levered himself to his feet. It was taking far longer than he had anticipated to heal and he could still only walk at a slow, pained limp but he had wanted to face his father and say his piece. Not that he had expected anything other than what he encountered, though he had harboured a tiny shred of hope that Stoick may have reconsidered his actions since the Trial.
"Man's stubborn as a mountain," he sighed. "Now you know where I get it from!" She gave a small smile.
"You know your son's as stubborn?" she asked him as they headed for the door.
"Really? Great. Something to look forward to," he groaned.
"So what now, cuz?" Snotlout asked, following. Holstering his pistol and scratching his chin, Hiccup cast Fishlegs a smirk and the man patted the leather-bound roll of plans at his hip. Part One was a crashing failure: maybe Part Two of his plan would prove more fruitful.
"We visit the best blacksmith in the Archipelago and make him an offer he can't refuse," he said.
oOo
The forge was filled with shadows but the fire was still lit and the lone worker limped in, his wooden leg clunking as he moved unselfconsciously over the stone floor. He grabbed a sword from the furnace, peered at the bright red metal and grinned, then began hammering loudly against the steaming metal with his prosthetic left hand which was in the shape of a hammer. Big and powerful, the man pounded away for a few minutes before dipping the sword back into the flames and wiping his brow.
"Still repairing swords any sane smith would melt down, old man," a calm voice said from behind him. The blacksmith turned round, his blue eyes cold and ample body bent forward in an aggressive posture. And then he gaped, his big face slack with astonishment. He wiped his brow again, sweat sheening his bald head and blond braided moustache swinging as he moved.
"You!" he exclaimed. "I thought ye were s'posed tae be rotting in the galley, laddie!"
"What can I say? Got bored so I jumped ship," the man replied, his lean shape resting casually against the far wall, his arms folded. Face buried in the shadows of his hood and eyes gleaming in the firelight, the man was clinging to his anonymity even though the blacksmith knew who he was.
Force of habit, Captain Fury, he thought, peering at his former apprentice. Laddie, I see ye finally found yer confidence! But aloud, he said: "Ye shoudnae ha' come!"
"Yeah, yeah…but I needed to speak with the best blacksmith in the Archipelago," Hiccup said quietly.
"I want nothing tae do wi' yer evil schemes!" Gobber said stubbornly. Hiccup gave a small snort.
"MY evil schemes?" he scoffed. "That's rich, Gobber! I get thrown out of my home to start, disowned and rejected by all those who should be protecting and supporting me and I'm the one with evil schemes! I've said my piece, old man. You've made your choice. But I need your skills because Berk is in danger from Drago. And our Navy has precisely zero chance against his monster dreadnoughts. However, I have come up with a solution…and the prototypes performed really well…"
Despite his anger at the lean shape parked at the back of the forge, Gobber moved forward as the pirate unrolled a diagram of Drago's ship-and gaped. And then he stared at the plans for the sea-mine that Hiccup had drawn.
"Odin's Raven!" the old blacksmith growled. "This is just…brilliant…" Hiccup lifted his head slightly and the old blacksmith recognised the bruises on his pale skin.
"I call it 'floating shot'," he admitted. "I made two on Dragon Island and we used them to sink the Loki's Staff off Outcast Island."
"And why should ah mek yer a weapon that could destroy any ship set after ye?" Gobber asked him sharply, eyeing the lean young man suspiciously. Hiccup sighed.
"Not a pirate weapon," he admitted. "It's no use making a weapon that sinks the ship before you can raid it. And I prefer to evade pursuit rather than engage in battle. And please note-I'm not sharing it with the pirate council, Gobber! I'm sharing it with you! So you have the secret to make them for Berk as well."
"But still…"
"Gobber," Hiccup growled, limping forward a pace, to Gobber's surprise. "I have the best gunners in the Archipelago. They put two double-powder shots on exactly the same point, the tiny unarmored section just above the waterline…and they didn't penetrate the hull…though they were close. My floating shot can pack the punch of ten double-strength shot in one point. The Loki's Staff was smashed to pieces! And Drago's ships will be as well." He took a deep breath. "I would help you, but I'm not currently in any state and I don't think we can spare the time for me to heal. Drago's ships are on the way! I know it."
Gobber gave a cynical scowl. "And how would ye know that?" Hiccup shoved his hood back and faced his old mentor.
"Because I've faced him!" he snapped. Gobber stiffened. "Yeah-when we were chased by his ship and they tried to kill Dad…we were surrounded. We were taken…and I was the one who had to face him." He took a deep, shuddering breath, momentarily betraying how horrific that experience had been and unwillingly, Gobber felt his heart soften towards the boy he had practically raised. Sure, the Hiccup had had known was stubborn and sarcastic but he was very brave as well and something provoking that reaction had to be very bad indeed "And while they were making my life very painful, I saw their plans. They are coming. He wants Berk!"
"And why do ye care?" Gobber asked him pointedly.
"A Captain protects his own," Hiccup sighed.
"Yer father says 'A Governor…'" the blacksmith told him grimly.
"Yeah, well he lied," Hiccup told him sharply. "Or did I not count as his own? He never protected me…from my cousins, from being alone and taunted…from himself! He never protected his son. Gods, this isn't Viking times when you left your kids to be eaten by dragons or slain by the others kids for being weak-but he treated me worse than any servant! And when I saw him this evening…he rejected my warning. And though almost everything I care for has left Berk or betrayed me so badly, there are a few good souls here who don't deserve Drago…"
"Laddie…is he still alive?" Gobber's tone was concerned. Hiccup looked up in shock and his green eyes darkened with betrayal.
"We left him bound and knocked out because frankly we didn't need him raising the alarm," he said bitterly. "He wants to hang me! If I had any of the sense I was born with, I'd have killed him…but that would leave you with the traitors Magne Jorgensen or Lord Hofferson in charge." Gobber gaped. "Yeah…both of them." Then Hiccup pulled his hood up and achingly turned away. "You know, Gobber…you were far more of a father to me that Dad ever was…and that you rejected me so cruelly when I needed you most…that you would think even now I would kill him in cold blood…maybe I should leave you all to die…" And with that weary and defeated statement, he walked away.
"Laddie…how many d'ye need?" Gobber asked him. Hiccup paused and very stiffly half-turned to stare at his old mentor.
"A score," he said grimly. "I'll be back to collect them…but I'll see you when I see you…" The old blacksmith stared after the tall, lean shape walking very gingerly towards the door. His conscious mind was telling him that he could jump the young pirate…if he wanted. But his gaze slipped treacherously back to the plans that echoed the brilliance of his apprentice all those years ago…before the young boy was thrown out for the crime of befriending the wrong person…and falling in love.
"Laddie…I'm sorry," he breathed. Hiccup paused for a moment at the threshold.
"Yeah, so am I.." he sighed and vanished into the night.
oOo
The Night Fury was moored peacefully in the cove off Raven Point, her shape silhouetted against the brilliant star-strewn sky and the bright half-moon. The lamps at her prow and stern were little warm lights guiding the rowing boat back to the ship. Hiccup stared up at the ship: they were late and he hoped Arild was asleep. Against his better judgement, the twins had stayed behind with half the crew and he was a little surprised that she hadn't been sunk in his absence. He stared up at her, the prow shaped like the legendary black dragon, the unholy offspring of Lightning and Death itself and a smile tilted his lips. The day he had first stepped on her had been one of his few happy memories over the past five years.
"Midgard to Hiccup!" Astrid was calling. He blinked and swung his emerald gaze to inspect Astrid. He gave a slight sigh.
"I know what you're going to say," he admitted heavily. "I know I failed."
"I just can't see why you risk your-all of our-lives to warn people who don't care," she told him, her eyes concerned. "You should still be resting." He gave a small smile.
"Hardly likely to overdo things, Milady Astrid," he said softly. "With you and Arild fussing over me, I'm lucky to be let out of my room at all…"
"But the Governor now knows you're free and will be looking for you," Fishlegs reminded him. Hiccup nodded.
"Dagur would have told him anyways," he sighed. "He would want me to suffer. And diverting Stoick to look for me would distract him from watching for Drago."
"He's not looking for Drago!" Snotlout snapped, his fists clenched. "He rejected what you said in court and he's rejected your warning now." He gave an incoherent scream of rage that echoed across the moonlit bay. "Damn him! His pride and stubbornness are going to get us all killed!" Sharing his frustration, Hiccup gave a small, sad smile.
"No, just me," he sighed. "Don't worry, Snot. Gobber has said he'll help."
"And you believe that lunatic?" his cousin asked him sharply. Hiccup sighed.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "I know that look. But no one else will. Sorry, guys. I don't think we've achieved anything." Fishlegs looked over to Sven One and Bucket.
"Captain, I think we've learned that you have a lot of baggage in your past," the First Mate said. "Even we were surprised you wanted to warn Berk." Then he paused. "But we understand your reasoning. We are all at risk from the Dark Lord…and we only stand a chance if we stand together. It's a shame some people don't accept that!"
"And others actively support the other side," Astrid added darkly. Quietly and gently, Hiccup laid a comforting hand on her arm, feeling her trembling with anger. She always had anger issues and nothing that had happened since that horrific day had done anything to improve her temper.
"Easy, Milady," he said gently. "As soon as we have the floating shot, we'll be gone. I need those weapons if we're to have any chance against Drago." He felt her tense for a moment. "Trust me, Astrid. I won't fight him unless I have no other choice. I actually have something to live for now." And he felt her relax at the sincerity in his voice and she dipped her head. She felt it as much as he did: the inbred call to duty, the responsibility to protect Berk, despite the fact that Berk had betrayed them both. Blinking and visibly calming, she looked up shyly, seeking his reassurance once more-just as the oars hit the side of the ship. With a sigh, they edged a little further apart.
As the rowing boat pulled alongside the ladder, Hiccup watched Fishlegs swarm up first, securing the boat before gesturing Astrid and Snotlout ascend first. The men then insisted he made his aching and clumsy way up onto the deck before they followed him…and then they looked around. The watch should have alerted the crew to help stow the boat but the deck was quiet. Deserted. Hackles rising and anxiety clutching his stomach, Hiccup stared up at the wheel and saw a shape still, not moving or acknowledging the return of his crew-mates.
"LOOK ALIVE!" Fishlegs shouted. "Captain on deck!" Hiccup winced. Usually that would be met by a chorus of jeers or some completely left field comment by Tuff. But there was nothing. He cast an anxious look at Astrid, who was walking forward and grabbed his sword…
…the door to his cabin burst open and men boiled out, more emerging from the small cabin and the hold. All were armed with swords and a handful with muskets. But in their centre, a vicious smile on his face and Arild helpless in his grasp was Magne Jorgensen.
"I've got you now," he exulted. "And this time none of you are escaping!"