Chapter 35

"This is stupid," Ruffnut said. "Why are you making us do this?"

I ignored her, and soared onwards. Ruffnut and her twin muttered to each other, probably agreeing about what she said. Their dragon seemed torn on whether to be frustrated that they were picking on me, or happy that they were getting along. Either way, me and Toothless didn't care. He rose and fell in lazy swoops, diving in front of and teasing Meatlug, who shambled along with her rider. There were also a couple of dragons that weren't ours joining us, but they were known to be very friendly – I'd specifically chosen them for that.

"There they are," I said. I focused my far-sight on the limping ships. It looked like the Louts had gone ahead and torn off the Berserk flags. Maybe their failure to show up had angered Chief Ranvir. "Follow the plan."

That meant the twins and Toothless (reluctantly) hanging back while me and Fishlegs closed in, with Fishlegs wildly waving a white flag of peace. He waved it so fast you could barely tell what it was. That's probably why the Louts yelled and armed themselves.

"No, wait!" Fishlegs cried as a half-dozen crossbows aimed in our direction. "We come in peace."

He waved the white flag higher. Luckily, a breeze caught it at that moment, and unfurled its full length, leaving no doubt what it stood for. The crossbows didn't lower, but nobody fired. Even Vikings respected this decree. Usually.

Chief Ranvir shouldered his way to the front. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Peace!" Fishlegs shouted again, holding his flag above his head. "We, uh . . . we want . . ."

I hovered at his side patiently. In my absence, Astrid normally took on these diplomatic duties. She was pretty good at them, especially since she understood the typical Viking mindset more than me. But after that incident with Snotlout . . . it's not that I didn't trust her anymore, but my eyes had been opened to a part of her that I had ignored. Astrid was a vengeful person. I'd seen it long ago in a cove, after someone who was supposed to be a nobody bested her in a field that was supposed to be hers. I couldn't have any of that nature seeping through in a situation as delicate as this one was. Or during my next stops.

Besides, Fishlegs was less intimidating.

"We, well, Hiccup thought that we could give a few of you a ride back to your island. Then you could bring more boats back and things wouldn't be so crowded on these ships."

The Louts muttered. They were tempted, I could tell. Being stuck shoulder-to-shoulder with people on a ship was not the least bit fun. But then Ranvir asked, "How do we know you're not planning to dump us in the middle of the ocean?"

"Uh . . ."

My turn. I landed on the rail, and sought out one of the armed Vikings.

I aimed her crossbow directly at my chest.

Ranvir grinned. "So you double-cross us, we get to put an arrow through your heart? Seems like a fair trade to me. How many can you carry?"

Fishlegs scanned the group. "Uh, the Night Fury can carry a couple. I could probably fit someone else on Meatlug. The Zippleback can't take more, but those two dragons could carry two each . . ."

"There'll just be one on the Night Fury," Ranvir said, eyes gleaming. (Gee, I wonder who that one person would be?)

The Louts sorted themselves out fast. A couple of them tussled –whether it was for the honour to ride the dragons or to not ride them remained unknown – but the fight didn't last very long on the crowded ship. Chief Ranvir was first, grabbing Toothless's scruff as he boarded, as if he expected Toothless to have a collar. Toothless curled his lip, but didn't show teeth. I cooed at him and told him things were going to be okay. A woman who I think was Ranvir's wife joined Fishlegs, making it one crowded ride. Two more pairs of men and women took the riderless Nadders.

"Well, are we going?" Chief Ranvir snapped the very moment the last person's toe left the deck. "Move it! Giddy-up!"

Ranvir slapped Toothless's side. Toothless's glare told me that I would have to spend a long time making this up to him.

Even though Toothless was accustomed to bearing my rather modest weight, he had no problems with a heavyset Viking like Ranvir the Cruel. Not that I had expected him to. I had seen Toothless carry around my dad in his claws, after all. The only dragon that seemed to have any problems at all was Meatlug, but I think that was because of the weight distribution . . . or she could have just been slow.

Yep. Definitely slow.

"You know where you're going, boy?" Ranvir shouted to Fishlegs, even though they were barely a few feet apart.

"Yes, I brought a map with me." Fishlegs opened a large sheet of parchment. "Uh huh, we just keep going this way . . ." He flipped over a sheet that had been attached to the parchment's edges, expanding the map. " . . .then we turned twenty degrees north when we see that . . ." He flipped over another sheet. "Okay, and it should be just a few minutes . . ."

By the time he flipped over the fifth piece, Ranvir was squinting at him through one eye.

"Sorry!" Fishlegs stuffed it back into his shirt. He didn't even fold it back together properly. "Hiccup keeps very detailed maps."

"What for?" Ranvir grunted. "Regular maps work just fine."

"Yeah, but he's . . ." Fishlegs glanced at me. I did my best to roll my eyes and give him the go-ahead. "He's recording what dragon species live in each area."

"I see," Ranvir said, and the way he said that made me tense. He pointed a meaty finger straight at me, as if he were about to run me through with a sword. "And that wee dragon is Berk's heir?"

"He is. It's a long story . . . but you've already heard it, right? I mean all the Chiefs did, didn't they?"

"Stoick mentioned something about that," Ranvir said. "You, Hiccup, prove you're not some dumb dragon."

I unsheathed my teeth and smiled at him.

Ranvir jerked back. "That's disturbing."

About ten minutes passed. By the five-minute mark, Fishlegs kept glancing at me, becoming more and more obvious each time. Ranvir, at the head of the flock, didn't notice. But his wife did, and unlike Fishlegs, I noticed that her hand rested on her dagger's sheath. I knew the twins saw that – being troublemakers tended to teach you how to tell how close others were to pulling weapons on you – but if they weren't raising an alarm, it's okay to say we were safe.

Fishlegs met my gaze once more, and I nodded.

"So, are you having fun?" he asked Ranvir.

Without moving, the Lout Chief answered, "Faster than sailing."

Fishlegs laughed nervously. "I know it doesn't seem that exciting, but it's really cool! You're just gliding with him, but there's so much more you can be doing."

"That so?" Ranvir still didn't sound that interested.

"That's a Night Fury!" Fishlegs exclaimed, breathless. "It's the fastest dragon in the entire world! He can't do too many fancy things without Hiccup to work his tailfin, but he's still super-fast."

That intrigued the Chief. His stare dropped to the back of Toothless's head and he tugged at his beard, thinking. I knew what would happen next. I landed in front of Ranvir on the saddle, dug my claws in and clung.

Ranvir said, "Be nice to get back faster. Alright. Show me what you got!"

Over the sound of Ranvir's slap, Fishlegs called, "Okay, Toothless. Give him the Astrid Special."

I swear Toothless literally thrummed with malice.

Nothing compared to a Night Fury's acceleration and before Ranvir's pals realized what was going on, we were nothing but a black streak to them. Wind roared in our ears and threw pressure against our faces just as water did when you first entered it from a dive. Toothless's wings swallowed the sky every time he extended them, and the pure strength in his wingbeats made our bodies vibrate.

"Now this is more like it!" Ranvir howled as if he was at the head of a warship leading an invasion. His beard's braids flapped in the wind like a pennant. Already, he was doing better than Astrid had. But I didn't think it would last. Not if Toothless had anything to say about it.

And he did.

He tilted upward. We climbed higher, higher and Ranvir didn't notice until he looked down by accident. Then, his hooting puttered out. The one hand that had been raised in celebration dropped to shoulder-level. Vikings, even the great and mighty Viking Chiefs, were people of the land and water. Not people of the sky. With their typical heavy bodies, tree-climbing wasn't a common pastime either. No, the closest these people got to dealing with heights was standing at the edge of a cliff. Toothless knew this, and he slowed down once we were high enough, just to rub it in.

I flattened my body against the saddle, and prepared for the fall.

Toothless didn't disappoint. If anyone had been watching, they would have wondered if Toothless's body stopped working. The overgrown lizard had folded his wings in, and simply let himself fall. I couldn't see Toothless's expression, but I imagine it was hilariously bored and unconcerned. A stark contrast to Ranvir, whose terror directly correlated to the speed of our descent. The churning sea awaited us below, dark and forbidding, as if we plunged into the void itself.

I couldn't hear the Chief over the wind, but I think I can guess what he was saying from the way he battered Toothless with his fists. The dark sea reflected in his eyes, making his face that much paler in comparison.

This time, Toothless decided against taking a swim. He waited until the last possible moment before thrusting his wings out and levelling out. He was so close to the water's surface that he could touch it – which was exactly what he did. He reached forward and sunk his paws in, so that water climbed his forelegs before erupting into a white geyser. I didn't mind; dragon scales were pretty waterproof. Ranvir did. He spluttered and coughed as water flung into his face and body.

By the time Toothless stopped, the Lout Chief's beard was soaked. The rest of him was okay, as droplets rolled off his dragon-skin cloak.

"I'll skin you alive!" Ranvir was bellowing. "I'll stuff your corpses and mount them on my wall . . ."

"Toothless," I bopped his head, "time to skip to the end."

I could tell Toothless was disappointed.

He took us up once more. It wasn't nearly as fast or wild as last time, but Ranvir still clung to Toothless's saddle as if it was. The glittering sea below grew distant, until we could no longer see the waves and it looked like a flat plain. The sky, on the other hand, and its white curling clouds grew ever closer. I felt the air grow colder as the moisture thickened.

We broke through the bottom cloud layer. Tuffs of various hues and shapes wrapped around us, as if we were in a tunnel. Only the walls of this tunnel weren't solid, and disappeared when you got too close. The sky, dyed orange and pink from the setting sun, was faintly visible where the walls were thin, and painted our shadows on the ones behind us. Drops of water frosted the ridges of Toothless's scales, and pooled upon Ranvir's armoured shoulders. Ranvir loosened his grip; his muscles almost seemed to creak.

There wasn't enough time for events to really dawn on him before we were through the clouds completely. We levelled out again, leaving the puffy, clumped cloud floor in its proper place beneath us. Ranvir and I both had to cover our eyes; a blinding streak of light had cut through the sky, slicing through the half-circle of the sun. The sunlight hugged the peaks of the rolling clouds, so that they resembled a field of snow. There weren't any northern lights for me to show him today, but I think this was enough.

"What is this?" Ranvir asked me.

I merely glanced at him, and then stared back at the sunset. I just needed to wait. Sooner or later, Chief Ranvir would realize there was no ulterior motive here. I just wanted him to see this.

The Lout Chief's leery gaze scanned everything; it was like he expected a flock of dragons to burst out of the clouds and eat him. He sat slightly hunched, gripping the saddle's cantle tight with one hand. The other rested on the spot just above Toothless's shoulder, where it wouldn't be bumped off by his wingbeats. It wasn't quite the reaction I was hoping for; Ranvir was not like Astrid. But he wasn't threatening to stuff my heart down my throat anymore, so I think things were going well.

I waited until I felt Ranvir shift his weight back, no longer interested or afraid. To Toothless, I said, "Okay, take us down."

The dive was controlled this time. Chief Ranvir, soothed by our time above the clouds, realized this after the first few moments. He seemed determined to bear this one like a true Viking – solemn faced, one-handed, staring directly into the wind. The black specks of our companions waited directly below us.

"We're back . . . what's going on?"

Fishlegs squeaked. His passenger glared at me . . . with her dagger flush against Fishleg's throat. Meatlug was whining, craning her neck in an attempt to view her passengers, while the twins hovered nearby. The offending Lout was dead in their sights, but they couldn't move fast enough to rescue Fishlegs without getting his throat cut.

"Hey!" I barked louder. Toothless huffed and hissed underneath me. "What happened -?"

A strong hand rested on my back.

"From what I've heard, you were supposed to be some sort of genius," Ranvir said. "Seems like you're more of a fool to me."

My eyes widened. This couldn't be . . .

"But . . ." Ranvir continued, "you did come to us under a flag of peace, and I ain't Treacherous or Deranged. Odin himself would damn us if we took advantage of this. Put the dagger away."

His wife slid her dagger back into its sheath, her manner suggesting that she was doing nothing more interesting than cutting a loaf of bread. Fishlegs sagged in relief; his Adam's apple bobbed as he took deep breaths.

The twins looked to me. I tried to tell them that it was all right. We would keep going.

There was an unspoken tension in the group. The Louts acted like everything was perfectly normal, but we couldn't shake the image of that dagger against Fishlegs's throat. Fishlegs had done his best to curl into a ball, hiding his vulnerable parts. Actually, now that I thought about it, maybe not all the Louts were okay. Chief Ranvir was shifting around a lot. Maybe it was because of the dagger. Or maybe it was some kind of post-flying trauma. Toothless had shown him how easy it was to lose control over your dragon, to fall . . .

"Hiccup," Ranvir said quietly, "how do I make it go faster?"

I let him think he was directing Toothless for the rest of the way (of course, it was actually me at the helm). By the time we reached Lava Lout island, dawn had broken and made the place easy to see. It was . . . interesting. Berk may have been inhabitable to anyone lesser than Vikings, but the Lava Lout home looked inhabitable. Period. It was a single, smoking volcano topped with a jagged crown of protruding shards like a pot that had been broken in half. Where there wasn't unforgiving cliffs, there was snow. A bubble of lava jumped out of the volcano's heart and tricked down its peak, sizzling and leaving a trail of melted snow in its path.

Great. Let me have Berk back with its ice and rain, please.

"There." Ranvir pointed. Unlike Berk's wooden houses, the buildings of the Lout village were carved from stone. They stuck up out of the ground, bare and grey, like we were looking upon a graveyard. Not what you would call homey.

Not many people were around to see us land. A lot of them had been in that raiding party. Those that were present were mostly old folks. They stared open-mouthed at their Chief's strange companions; I don't think any of them had never seen a Night Fury in the flesh before.

"Prisoners?" An elder with a nasty sneer asked.

"No." Ranvir slung his leg off the saddle, and dropped onto solid ground. In that instant he landed, his knees buckled. There was a confused to his eyes, as if the very idea of ground perplexed him. But his voice was strong as he mustered his people. "Prep the fleet. We lost most of the Berserk ships and we need transport."

One of the listening Vikings glanced at me and my crew. Ranvir saw that, and barked, "Ignore them. They're not important."

By this time, the rest of Ranvir's companions had dismounted. The woman I guessed to be his wife approached him, laying her hand on his shoulder. She whispered, "Will the Berserkers be seeking revenge?"

"Not on us. Not our fault they couldn't get their act together."

His wife looked like she was going to say something more, but suddenly remembered they weren't alone. "What are you still doing here?" she snapped at us. "Go!"

"A thank you would have been nice," Tuffnut muttered. He and Ruffnut obediently pulled their dragon away though. Fishlegs was just ecstatic to get out of here.

I locked eyes with the Lout Chief. A hollowness haunted them, but deep within them, there was a gleam. He wrenched his face away quickly, but I still saw all that I needed to. I recognized that look. It was the hollowness of one trying to keep a big secret, and the gleam of one who had been enlightened. Whether he liked it or not, Toothless had taken him up into the sky and shown him what it meant to ally yourself with dragons. That's why I could see the secret he was trying to hide:

Chief Ranvir wanted to be a dragon rider, too.

I purred. Three down, four to go.

Everyone was glad to see the end of this mission, especially Toothless. He kept flexing and stretching his muscles, as if he could still sense the touch of the despised Lout Chief. The twins and Fishlegs flew next to each other so that Fishlegs and Ruffnut could speak. They had the map out, and were arguing about the best place to let the dragons (and us!) have a rest.

I ended that argument by veering away.

"Hey, where are you going?"

I couldn't answer them, but I knew that in lieu of Snotlout and Astrid, they would follow me. There was one more stop we had to make, and it was close by anyways.

"I'll keep an eye out for your cousin, Hiccup," Alvin the Treacherous told me. "If he doesn't come this way though, there's not much I can do."

Thank you. I dipped my head. I hoped Snotlout did. The Outcasts were a clan of exiled Vikings. Snotlout was an exiled Viking. The pieces fit together perfectly. Plus, it would be a weight off my back to know Snotlout was somewhere I'd be able to keep track of him. Not to mention it didn't hurt that the Outcasts were unofficially allied with Berk.

I trotted over to Fishlegs, and cuffed him awake. Before I had spoken to Alvin about Snotlout, he had agreed to take us in for the day. Which meant lots of food and napping. By the time we finished talking, the sun had dipped, but the dragons looked well-rested.

"Uh, thanks again," Fishlegs said to the Outcast Chief.

Alvin half-shrugged. "Take care of yourselves."

Right before I took off, I happened to catch a glimpse of a herd of sheep . . . only one of them wasn't a sheep. There was a fat Gronckle laying on his side and with his tongue hanging out of his mouth.

Alvin noticed where my attention laid. "Oh, that. There's a few of those. They don't have a taste for mutton and they go after the wolves, so we toss them fish to keep them around."

I blinked. Well, that was a start.

We returned to Berk at mid-day. From dragon-back, it was impossible not to notice that the island had lost a huge chunk of its trees. Fishlegs and the twins discussed that, but none of them came close to hitting upon the right answer. How could they? I'm not even sure they knew the Berserkers had been on our island.

The forest wasn't the only thing that had changed. When I first saw it, I thought it was a trick of my eyes. I had to land on the flagpole and paw the two, intertwined flags to be sure. That was unusual. Very unusual, because one of the flags wasn't ours, but that of the Meatheads. Two intertwined flags represented an alliance, and not just any. This wasn't a treaty signed on paper, or a partnership put together by friendship. This was a genuine military alliance. It was no longer possible to only attack Berk; until those flags went down, any violence against Berk would be met with violence from the Meatheads, and vice-versa.

Staring up at the intertwined flags, Ruffnut said, "What the hell happened?"

"Hiccup!"

Oh. That was Dad's You're in Trouble voice.

I ended up getting an earful for leaving that close to the end of a battle. And then another when he realized I went after Chief Ranvir (I swear, he was on the verge of an apocalyptic fit when I told him that). Even Gobber, who had been listening in, looked quite concerned. At last, Dad shouted himself out, and face purple, fell backwards to lean against a house.

"If it makes you feel better, it worked," I said.

"You're not having a heart attack, are you?" Gobber asked him.

"I'm fine," Dad muttered.

"Dad, I'm really sorry." I scratched those last three words into the dirt. "But I couldn't turn down a chance like that. And I was being serious. It worked! The Louts are on our side!"

Of course, he didn't understand me, so instead I pointed at the intertwined flags.

Dad took a deep breath, and began to explain. "If we're going to see this mysterious dragon lady, then somebody needs to keep our village safe – especially if the Berserkers come again. So long as there's no trophy at stake, Chief Mogadon has always been trustworthy. He's promised to protect Berk."

Price? I wrote. I wasn't a fool. Even Dad would be ill-deposed to take on this kind of responsibility unless there was some benefit for Berk.

Dad cleared his throat. "Well, if Berk were to be attacked, ships alone might not be fast enough. They'd need . . . dragons."

I gaped. I followed Dad's eyes, and shot towards the alleyway.

At the other side, I stopped in the alley's mouth. What greeted me was the back of a fair figure, with hair brighter than any star. Astrid was like a storybook princess facing down a dragon, although the intenseness of that image suffered under the fact that her dragon looked sleepy enough to keel over at any moment. But that was Gobber's Hotburple for you. It wasn't just Grump in front of her, either. On his back sat a very familiar Meathead.

"You're doing great!" Astrid called out to Chief Mogadon. "Now bring him left again . . ."

Watching them, I couldn't help but smile.

Toothless snuck up on me and nipped my tail.

"Can't leave you alone for even a second, huh?" I said to my panting, wriggling dragon. "Okay, I'm up for a game of tag-"

There was a feather-light touch on my mind, like someone had peeked in the window to say hello.

I froze. So did Toothless.

It swept over me in a wave. A feeling. A good feeling. I felt in the very marrow of my bones. It was . . .he was . . . no way.

Toothless and I joined the throng of dragons heading toward the docks. I ignored the Vikings shouting at us. They'd see. Everyone would see . . .

The dragons barked and chittered among themselves, perched as close as they could get to the water. Toothless shoved his way to the front of the crowd, with me sitting on his back. We got there just as the dragons fell silent, as a huge shadow rose from the depths –

The docked boats rolled with the waves. A deafening deluge of sound overtook the village. Just above the sea, blue eyes blinked, wise and curious.

So this is Berk, said his majesty, the Bewilderbeast.

Review Response:

Guest: I have no idea if this is the same person posting over and over again, but wish granted!

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Noctus Fury: Don't say that! Hiccup doesn't like to think of himself as a murderer in any sense.

Although Hiccup would love to have Snotlout back, even he wouldn't go directly against his dad's and Gothi's decree like that. There's disobeying your father and chief, and then there's disobeying. You're right about Astrid though. Hiccup still loves her, but there's a definite strain there.

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Jazz: I haven't read them either! :D

Yep, that was all the Lava Louts, and yes, Hiccup is starting to put the pieces of the dragon language together. And Hiccup basically told Fishlegs about his plan with Ranvir.

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MM: Astrid's in a place where she kind of does regret it, but doesn't want to admit it. If she admits it, then she has to acknowledge she screwed up and really start to regret it.

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Leska: Sure! :)