Chapter 18

Twin-Sanity Part 1

They say that two heads are better than one, which is often true.

Four heads… yeah, that's a few heads too many.

Sky over Berk, Late Morning

Berk hadn't seen the sun for far too long. As Hiccup and Sightless flew through the thick grey clouds, barely able to see where they were going, the leader of the Berk Monster Riders couldn't help but hope that things would change. It was bad enough when clouds obscured the sky, but when they completely destroyed your ability to see? Hiccup couldn't even see his hands gripping the saddle in front of him.

The constant cloud cover was starting to become a little depressing. And Hiccup wasn't the only one that felt disconcerted.

"How are we supposed to see in this stuff?" whined Ruffnut from somewhere off to Hiccup's left.

"You're not," he replied. "That's the whole point of this lesson."

Then he heard Tuffnut speak up. "Oh. Yeah, I still don't get it."

Hiccup sighed and facepalmed to himself. He had set up this training exercise in hopes that it would be an interesting and challenging activity for the Monster Riders. Well, Astrid and Snotlout were loving it (one of the very few things they'd ever agreed on), and he thought it wasn't so bad, but apparently the twins hadn't gotten the message. Again.

"Any questions, then?" came Batwings' sarcastic voice, from directly behind Hiccup.

"Yeah," replied Tuff. "First question. What's all this grey stuff in my eyes?"

"It's the clouds," Snaketail snapped, coming from somewhere down below. "Let me guess, your next question is 'What are clouds?'"

There was silence for a second. "Uh… no, that wasn't it," the Thorston boy answered. "It was, uh… why are we flying in it?"

Sighing, Hiccup explained the lesson for what felt like the hundredth time. "When you two can't see, you have to trust King and Queen to see for you. You're supposed to rely on the bond you have with your elder dragons."

Tuff's loud, frustrated groan could be heard. "Why must he always speak in riddles?" he asked, voice rising with every word.

"I say we trust us," Ruff suggested.

"Yeah, I'm with you, sister," agreed Tuff. "King, down!"

"Queen, up!" his twin added.

Unfortunately, neither of them realized that, while they had started out flying side-by-side, Ruffnut and her Lunastra were now flying directly below Tuffnut and his Teostra. Sometime during their flight through the clouds, they had unknowingly ended up with one flying above the other. When they followed their riders' orders, the two elder dragons smashed into each other and lost their balance, spiraling downwards on a collision course with the ground far below them.

Fishlegs had ended up losing his way as well. Being the smart person that he was, he had decided to fly below the clouds instead of through them, unwilling to fly blindly in what might be a different direction than his friends. All he had to do was listen for his friends' voices, and he could follow them from there.

"Heatray, we are going in the right direction!" he exclaimed all of a sudden. "Listen, girl, I can hear them now!"

What he was hearing were Ruff and Tuff's screams as they and their monsters plummeted out of the clouds. They broke through the heavy cloud cover and fell directly towards Fishlegs, who couldn't do anything except brace for impact. The Lunastra and Teostra crashed into him and Heatray, sending them all flying in different directions. While the monsters ended up just fine, being able to untangle themselves and fly normally again after the impact, their riders weren't so lucky. Ruff, Tuff, and Legs kept falling, landing in a tall, skeletal tree with branches thick enough to break their fall.

They weren't thick enough to sustain them, though. Almost as soon as their hearts stopped racing, the branch supporting the Thorston twins started to break.

"King, get me down!" called Tuffnut, at the same time Ruffnut yelled, "Queen, go for help!"

Disoriented from their crash, King and Queen flapped off to carry out their orders, then flew into each other hard enough to send them both into a thick cloud. Almost instantly, they disappeared. Meanwhile, the branch that Ruff and Tuff sat on shifted another inch.

Fishlegs saw that the twins' situation was growing desperate and looked up at Heatray, who had regained her balance, then let out a sharp, carrying whistle. Heatray glanced down at him expectantly, and he replied by giving her an odd sort of gesture – he pointed at the twins, then straight up, then made a circular motion with his finger. Almost as if it had been some sort of signal, the Gravios flew down as fast as her bulk would allow and caught the Thorstons on her back just as their branch snapped in two.

"It worked!" Fishlegs squealed. "I can't believe it actually worked!"

Then his branch began to break as well. Luckily for him, there was one pair of eyes high above managed to see through the clouds and witness his dilemma. Mocktalk came diving down from out of the grey curtain and snatched up Fishlegs in his claws.

Casually, Batwings leaned over the edge of his saddle so he could better speak to his passenger. "What was that hand thing you were doing?" he asked. "I've never seen anything like it."

"Of course you haven't," the Ingerman boy replied proudly. "If you must know, Snaketail and I have been crafting some rudimentary hand signals for Heatray and Twinhorn just in case we're ever separated."

"And it looks like they've been well received!" shouted Snaketail from afar.

Batwings and Fishlegs turned around (well, Fishlegs didn't, but he tried) and saw the rest of the Monster Riders descending from the clouds to catch up with them.

"Hand signals, that's incredible!" Hiccup praised. He didn't mind admitting that he was thoroughly impressed with his friends' ingenuity, although he did wonder why he hadn't thought of that sort of thing before.

"Yeah, I know!" agreed Snaketail. "Why don't we make that the subject of our next monster training lesson?"

From Heatray's back came a dazed, disinterested, and familiar voice. "Third question. What are hand signals?"

Berk Monster Academy, Morning

It was the day after the flight through the clouds, and everyone was very pleased to see that the thick blanket that had covered the sky for days on end had finally lifted. This morning, the sky was as blue as could be.

Hiccup had gathered the rest of the Monster Riders at the academy on Snaketail's suggestion. Because it was such a beautiful day, those riders that had baby monsters to take care of had brought the little creatures along to train with. Hiccup informed the gang that they would be practicing the hand signals that the Grundenson girl and her accomplice, Fishlegs, had come up with. After Snaketail and Fishlegs had some time to explain, the rest of the Monster Riders grew very excited about today's training session. Even Snotlout felt obligated to praise the two for coming up with such a cool idea.

Once Tail and Legs had finished explaining the basics, everyone adjourned to a separate part of the academy and practiced with their monsters. Unlike most of their training sessions – especially those involving the infants, which typically went awry immediately – it started to go well right from the start.

"Sightless," Hiccup commanded, "virus blast!" He held up a hand, then pointed a finger downwards. Sightless shot a blast of his black fire at the nearest wall, which exploded into dark fog that dispersed almost immediately.

"Good job, bud!" the Chief-to-be said. "Now, smile." He then traced a finger across his face in an upwards U-shape. It took Sightless a couple of tries, but he was soon giving his rider a toothy grin.

Near them, Astrid was practicing with Blackhawk. "Blackhawk, spine shot!" the Hofferson girl ordered, holding her hands out at arm's length.

The Yian Garuga snapped her tail upwards in a scorpion-like motion, sending several poisonous spines flying. The projectiles embedded themselves in a perfectly straight line beside Astrid, although it came a little closer than she was comfortable with. On the sidelines, Blackhawk's three chicks mimicked their mother's action with their own spineless tails. Blackhawk, seeing that they looked disappointed with the lack of results, cooed her encouragement.

"Better than last time, at least," Astrid commented, and pulled a spine out from the tip of her boot. "And you three kids will get it eventually, I know it."

Arachne, Venomwing, and their two baby Remobra were training in an area near the bird wyverns. The little Philston girl enthusiastically commanded Venomwing to spit poison, holding her hands in front of her mouth and splaying her fingers out. The resulting glob of purple venom flew past and slimed the top of her helmet. The Remobra infants, Terror and Biter, spat out little droplets of poison as well, very pleased with themselves.

Then, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned in the direction of Snotlout's corner. The pig-headed Jorgenson's voice, deepened in order to sound tougher, carried across the entire arena when he commanded, "Snotsnarl, annihilate!"

The result was a deafening Tigrex roar that distorted the air around him and knocked Snotlout into a nearby wooden board. It was a very effective attack, the others had to admit, since there was now a Snotlout-shaped hole in the board and an unconscious Viking wannabe stuck to the wall behind it.

"Bulls-eye," Batwings said to Snotsnarl, who growled with pleasure at the compliment. The Siren then went back to his Qurupeco and tried, "Mocktalk, dance!"

Replying to Batwings' hand signal, which was a vertical twirl of his index finger, Mocktalk warbled affirmatively and did a little jig on the spot, waving his heart-shaped tail about before spinning around and flaring out his wings and tail dramatically. Amused by the show, the Peco triplets copied their dad perfectly with enthusiastic squeaks. Batwings was doubled over laughing at the whole thing.

Meanwhile, Fishlegs and Snaketail were training together, working on new and more complex hand signals with their monsters. Only Snaketail seemed to be having much success, since when her partner commanded Heatray to 'hug', he ended up with a several-hundred pound flying wyvern and several baby Diabloses on top of him.

"Let's try something that's actually effective," she smirked to her full-grown Diablos. "Twinhorn, tail combo!" She gave a hand signal by snapping her fingers and then sharply swinging her arm down in a chopping motion.

Twinhorn grunted and performed several moves with her tail. She smashed it into the ground, then dragged it across the ground in a circle. When she had picked up some speed, she whipped her tail behind her.

"Tail combo?" inquired Hiccup, strolling over while Sightless tailed him.

"It's a tail attack combined with a tail swing," she explained in a self-satisfied way. "I've got signals for those, too. Tomorrow, we're going to work on a tail combo combined with a horn attack."

"That could be really useful," Hiccup admitted.

"Close combat is our thing," the girl said with a smirk.

Everyone paused for a break in their training, but Ruff and Tuff hadn't tried any hand signals yet. Hiccup supposed they had probably been fighting or trying to break things again. "Ruffnut, Tuffnut, your turn!"

Both of them nodded at him and turned to face their monsters. King and Queen watched them expectantly, waiting to see what they would do.

"Come!" said Tuff, gesturing to himself.

"Go!" Ruff ordered at the same time.

Queen turned around at the same time King strode forward, and whacked him with her tail. The Teostra snarled at her, to which she replied by whirling around and growling right back.

"Sky!" Ruff requested, pointing up.

"Ground!" Tuff commanded, and pointed downward.

This time, when Queen lifted into the air, her wing hit King in the back of the head, sending his muzzle into the pavement. His own wings flared out to try and stop his fall, one of which ended up tangling with Queen's wing, and she fell on top of him. The lion-like elder dragons disentangled themselves and screeched furiously at each other, beside themselves with rage.

"Ha, I win!" crowed Tuffnut.

"What do you think you're doing to my monster?" Ruffnut demanded.

"Your monster?" her brother scoffed. "What about mine? You've been breathing in Queen's dust again."

"How about you stop breathing?" the female Thorston growled threateningly.

Swiftly, Hiccup stepped in between them and protested, "Guys, King and Queen need to work together, not against each other. Use one signal at a time!"

"Good idea," agreed Ruff. She thrust her fist in her twin's direction and commanded, "Queen, attack Tuffnut!"

Immediately, the Lunastra lunged and struck Tuff with a headbutt, sending him flying into Snotlout, who had just started to wake up.

"Uh, I don't think that's what Hiccup meant…" Arachne said timidly.

Ignoring her, Tuff sat up and snapped his fingers shut like a lobster claw. "King, eat Ruffnut!"

The Teostra's jaws swooped down and clamped themselves over Ruff's head and chest. Her disgusted comment was thankfully muffled.

"Come on, guys!" groaned Hiccup. Thankfully, Tuff relented and told King to put his sister down.

"I can't work like this," Ruffnut muttered once the elder dragon had released her.

"That's totally unprofessional," Tuffnut grunted.

Her response was to flick monster saliva at him. "I'm taking my monster and going home."

"Hey!" the male Thorston shouted. "If you feed her all of King's fish, I'll…" He suddenly faltered.

"You'll what?" Ruff challenged him.

There was a long pause in which Tuff did nothing but glare into his sister's eyes. He glanced away uncertainly, then finally blurted, "I'll tell you tomorrow!"

Both of them ran toward King and Queen and started leading them out of the arena, but each elder dragon didn't seem to want to leave the other's side. They might have been fighting a few seconds ago, but that didn't mean they didn't like each other. And at that moment, they were feeling very conflicted – stick with their sibling, or go with their separate riders?

"Leave the monsters out of this!" Arachne yelled at the older kids. "Can't you get over this?"

"Oh, it's over," Ruffnut seethed, and abandoned Queen in favor of leaving the academy.

"Yeah," agreed Tuffnut. "It's so over, it's under!"

When the twins had gone, they left behind an unquestionably disturbed silence. None of the riders could think of anything to say to what they had just witnessed. The monsters stayed quiet, just as worried as their human friends. Even the baby monsters didn't make a peep.

King and Queen gazed after their departed riders, then at each other. They didn't know what to do, and didn't like it one bit.

"What was all that about?" Astrid asked at last, sounding dubious.

"I wouldn't worry about it," Hiccup assured her. "They'll be back."

But, personally, he wasn't so certain at all.

Hiccup's House

Hiccup left King and Queen to settle down in the academy, feeling that it was best they stayed out of the Thorston twins' fight for now. After the other teens left, he took some time to clean up the mess that had been left behind from their training session. At last, when he was finished, he said goodbye to King and Queen, then locked the gate and headed for his house.

He and Sightless, who was tailing him as usual, reached his front doorstep and walked through the door to find Gobber trying to fasten a fancy-looking belt around Stoick's waist. It was no easy task – his father wasn't called Stoick the Vast for nothing. Batwings was at the table, idly tapping his claws against the wood.

"Suck in yer gut, Stoick!" Gobber grunted, pulling harder on the belt.

"It's sucked, Gobber!" the Chief wheezed in reply. "It doesn't suck any more than this!"

A chuckle came from Batwings' corner of the room. "Yeah, that does suck."

It was only now that Hiccup remembered the belt that Gobber was struggling with. Every year, a few days after the Thorfest games, his dad would put on that belt and head off to the docks to meet with some very special guests from across the archipelago. Those guests would stay for about a day before sailing back home, usually satisfied with the events of that day and looking forward to another year of peace with the Berkians.

"Ah, the Ceremonial Belt," the boy commented. "That time of year again, huh?"

Stoick managed to get enough air to reply, "Yep, tonight's the annual treaty-signing with the Berserker tribe."

For perhaps half a moment, Batwings stopped tapping on the table, and then resumed his rhythm.

"They've really gotta change tha' name," snorted Gobber. "When yer Chief's called 'Oswald the Agreeable' and ya haven't been ta war in fifty years?"

Hiccup's eye twitched and his heart skipped a beat when he remembered something else. "Oh, please tell me Oswald's not bringing that lunatic kid of his…"

"Dagur?" the blacksmith confirmed. "Ah, he'll be here."

There was a lout *rrrrrip!* that came from the table, where Batwings' claws had dug long grooves into it. Hiccup and Stoick glanced over at him, met his gaze, and went back to what they were talking about.

"Let me guess," Hiccup said. "I'm supposed to keep him from breaking stuff."

But Stoick had something different in mind. "Actually, I have a more important job for you. I need you to hide all the monsters."

The junior Haddock's face was the definition of surprised. Incredulous, he asked, "From Oswald the Agreeable?"

Nodding, his father replied, "Just because we haven't had war for fifty years doesn't mean they still can't go… well, berserk. The monsters could be seen as a sign of aggression. Better blissful than bloody, I always say." He chuckled, as if there was something funny about that.

Gobber piled on, "And the last thing we want is another Berserker skirmish. They tend ta play fer keeps."

Batwings suddenly spoke up, the tone of his voice unreadable. "What about the dragons? Should we hide them, too?"

"Actually, I was getting to that," Stoick said, much to Hiccup's surprise. "The dragons are fine where they are – they've always been a part of Berk, however unwanted they might have been in the past. You, my fine fellow, are going to be coming along to meet the Berserkers as their representative."

Hiccup and Batwings shared an incredulous glance. Out of all of the Monster Riders, the elder Haddock had always given the Siren special treatment – letting him stay in his house, for starters. And Hiccup had noticed that his father had recently been looking for someone who would speak for the monsters and dragons of Berk when he met with other tribes. Was this what he had planned for Batwings?

"Just hide the monsters, son," Stoick said, patting his shoulder.

Now, Hiccup didn't really understand what the big deal was, but he knew that Stoick knew best when it came to politics, and felt it wise to do what he was asked. Especially when it concerned the monsters.

"Sorry, Sightless," he murmured. "We'll have spend the day apart tomorrow." He patted Sightless' head apologetically, then went over to Batwings and asked, "Hey, could you do me a favor and spread the word to the other dragons? We might need extra help to help keep the monsters hidden."

Batwings didn't reply. He was staring off into the distance, his expression neutral and looking like it had been carved into stone. His hand was placed on his neck, touching the old scar that Hiccup had never had the nerve to ask about. When Mocktalk squawked his name, though, he snapped out of his trance.

"You alright there?" asked Hiccup.

"Never been better," the Siren replied, distractedly. "Right. Tell the dragons. On it. Let's go."

Berk Woods, Early Afternoon

It took a lot of work to round up the Monster Riders and enough dragon back-up, but they were finally on their way to herding every last monster on Berk to a neighboring island. The monsters made up an absolutely massive group – not as big as the horde they had seen before Snoggletog, but still huge – that encompassed the land and the sky. There were a few communication problems when it came time to inform the monsters of the big move, but in a surprisingly short amount of time, the Berk monster population was ready to relocate until further notice.

"Sightless, virus blast," Hiccup said, pointing at an errant Yian Kut Ku that was straying from the main flock. The Gore Magala obediently fired a projectile that zoomed over the bird wyvern's head, causing it to squawk and flew off to rejoin the other monsters.

"Come on, back in line!" Snotlout shouted, chasing a distracted Espinas back to the group. "Everybody in line, in line! Hey Hiccup, is Dagur coming?" the Jorgenson boy added to his cousin. "That guy's so cool!"

"Cool?" replied Hiccup, skeptically. "Please! Last time he was here, he used me as a Dual Blade-throwing target!"

Astrid flew up in between the two boys and spoke in a voice riddled with disgust. "Of course he thinks Dagur's cool! He's like two Snotlouts in one, inflated head and all!"

"That idiot should be locked up in a cage!" yelled Snaketail, cruising up on Twinhorn to join the conversation. "And I should know! That's what he did to me when he came to my old island! He wouldn't let me eat for three days!"

Hiccup shuddered. Snotlout had tried that with her shortly after she arrived on Berk, thinking she'd be a new punching bag for when he got bored of his scrawny cousin. That turned out to be a bad idea – by the time Stoick found out, Snaketail had been reduced to little more than a wild animal. Snotlout still had the bite marks on his leg to prove it.

"Dagur was hard on me, too!" exclaimed Fishlegs.

"Didn't he force-feed you rotten cod heads?" Lout jeered, laughing. "Oh Thor, that was an incident for the record books!"

"Keep laughing, and we'll pick up where we left off from our last 'incident'," Snaketail threatened.

Her words did the trick. "Thanks," muttered Snotlout. "I had almost erased that from my memory."

"Look out!" Arachne called from where she was directing another part of the flock. "Incoming Zippleback!"

She had barely finished her warning before a bright green Hideous Zippleback dragon flew wildly into their midst. Several of the Monster Riders steered their monsters away from the errant Zippleback, which kept moving as if they weren't even there, its two heads fighting amongst themselves over which direction to fly in.

"Where's Ruffnut and Tuffnut?" Hiccup called, thinking that he could really use their help to calm the two-headed dragon. However, he only got a series of shrugs as a reply.

"Could someone go get that dragon?" yelled Arachne from the distance. "I'm a bit busy here!"

"I'm on it," Batwings informed the others, and steered Mocktalk after the Zippleback.

Hiccup decided to follow him, and took Fishlegs with him while the rest of the gang supervised the monster population. They caught up to Batwings just as he jumped off of Mocktalk and landed on the Hideous Zippleback's left neck. He almost fell off, but he grabbed the neck tightly and furiously fluttered his wings to steady himself.

"You need two riders, Batwings!" Hiccup called down. "Fishlegs, help him out."

The husky Ingerman boy replied with a hint of caution, "I'm not sure this is the best idea!"

However, he relented anyway. Hesitating at first, Fishlegs leapt off of Heatray's back and ended up on the Zippleback's right neck. The sudden (and considerable) weight was enough to surprise the right head into spewing its nauseating green gas, which was blown by the wind into Fishlegs' face.

"I don't feel too good…" he moaned.

"It's the gas," replied Hiccup. "Try not to breathe any in."

Fishlegs said queasily, "Yeah, that ship has sailed."

Batwings suddenly got a face-ful of gas and almost slipped off of the other neck. He let out a growl, probably trying to talk to the Zippleback, but the head in front of him didn't respond.

"I'm not getting anything from it!" the Siren shouted to Hiccup, who had distanced himself from the cloud of gas that was now trailing behind their reluctant mount. "How do you control this thing?"

"Whatever you do," Hiccup warned, "don't spar–"

In an attempt to properly position himself atop the Zippleback's neck, Batwings grabbed onto the long horns sticking out from the back of its head. He accidentally tugged on them, and the Zippleback reflexively spat out a spark that ignited the other head's gas. There was an incredibly loud explosion of flames that flung Batwings and Fishlegs right off of the Zippleback, but they were quickly grabbed in Mocktalk's talons.

"Mocktalk, Mocktalk, oi oi oi!" the bird wyvern warbled, pleased with himself.

"Now I feel worse," Fishlegs complained, letting himself hang limply from Mocktalk's claws.

"Then if I were you," Batwings advised him, his voice bitter, "I would not think about those cod heads sliding down your throat."

From above, Hiccup looked away and grimaced when he heard Fishlegs promptly throw up. He followed the wild Zippleback with his eyes as it flew away into the yonder. Wherever it was going, it was heading back toward Berk, and that could be a problem if it interfered with Stoick's meeting with Oswald the Agreeable. Dragons might not be as hated as monsters, but they were still a bit of a nuisance to non-Berkian Vikings.

Hiccup shook his head and told himself to focus on the task at him. He steered Sightless into a U-turn and went back to finish leading the monsters to their assigned hiding spot. Mocktalk followed, still keeping a firm hold on his passengers.

"What do you think happened to the twins and their monsters?" Astrid asked, when she saw the Haddock boy come up beside her. "I haven't seen them since their big fight in the academy."

"I don't know," he answered, worriedly. "But we're going to have to find them and get Queen and King off of Berk before the Berserkers –"

Suddenly, the low drone of a horn rang out from the far distance.

"…are here," Astrid finished for him.

No one saw Batwings' eyes harden. "Great," he muttered. "Just great."

Docks

There was no time for Hiccup to join the search for the twins – or their monsters. Once the Monster Riders had left the monsters on the island that they'd be living on for the rest of the day, they took a Lagiacrus back to Berk and split up in search of Ruff and Tuff. Hiccup, though, went to find his dad, and found him in the harbor, waiting to welcome Oswald.

Normally, Hiccup would be happy to see the Berserker Chief. Everybody liked Oswald the Agreeable – even cranky old Mildew. But if his demented son was coming, and if he happened to find a Lunastra and Teostra during his stay and jump to the wrong conclusion… well, let's just say that Hiccup would be more than willing to see the back end of his boat when he and the Berserkers left Berk for another year.

"Uh, Dad?" Hiccup asked Stoick. "There's, uh, a slight –"

"Not now, son," he interrupted. "Oswald's here."

"Early," commented Gobber, at Stoick's side as usual. "We weren't expectin' 'em 'til later tonight."

Nervously, Hiccup eyed the twenty-odd Berserker warships that were anchored a few hundred yards out to sea. The biggest and most impressive of the ships, though – a humongous vessel with a Skrill painted on its sail – was advancing steadily toward the dock on which the Hooligan representatives waited. Besides Stoick, Gobber, and Hiccup, there were Thornado, Spitelout, Torch, and Batwings.

It was the latter's first mission as Stoick's 'right hand dragon', as the Chief put it, and Hiccup noticed he looked a bit nervous. But there was something else, something about how he was staring at that one boat…

At last, it pulled up to the dock and dropped its anchor. A gangplank was lowered, and the Berserkers' herald – the same one that had accompanied Oswald on his last visit – walked down the plank to meet the welcoming committee.

"Presenting the almighty high Chief of the Berserkers!" announced the herald in his clear, carrying voice. "Cracker of skulls! Slayer of monsters! The great, the fearsome –"

"Oswald the Agreeable?" hazarded Gobber, eyebrow raised.

The herald glared at him, then finished, "Dagur the Deranged!"

That was when a sinking feeling took hold of Hiccup's heart and dragged it down to somewhere near his toes. The tall, lanky, and unpleasantly familiar figure of none other than Dagur hopped off the boat and made his way down to greet them. His helmet had two long, slightly bent horns rising up from it, and his armor had a clip securing a Switch Axe made of red-and-black Stygian Zinogre scales.

An equally familiar Hobblegrunt stalked after him, its head poking forward with each step like a giant ostrich. It had a strangely disturbing expression on its face, a kind of satisfied grin that displayed its upward-pointing teeth. Hiccup recalled that its name was Newtsbreath, and it had been Oswald's favorite dragon. He felt sick when he saw the collar and leash that Dagur led it by.

"Dagur?" Stoick repeated, shocked.

"Deranged?" Batwings snorted.

"Oh no," Hiccup muttered.

There was a whizzing noise and a flash of steel, and the Haddock boy ducked. Dagur had whipped a knife out of nowhere and tossed it at him, which, in the past, would have probably been too fast for him to get away unscathed. But Hiccup's reflexes had improved considerably, thanks to months of riding Sightless and leading the Berk Monster Academy.

Dagur didn't know that, though, and sniffed with disappointment when his favorite target dodged the projectile.

"Where's your father, Dagur?" asked Stoick, cutting right to the chase.

The teenager stared down his nose at him (even though it should have been hard to do to someone who was over a foot taller than you) and responded, "My father's been… retired. He, ah, lost his taste for blood. I, on the other hand, am staaaaarving~."

He said the last part in a sing-song voice that sent chills down the spines of everyone present. Batwings scowled deeply.

"So," Dagur said, clapping his hands together and thankfully changing the subject. "Where are you hiding them, Stoick?"

Spitelout answered, face twisted into one of confusion. "Hiding? What is there to hide?"

"Oh, we both know what's going on, my stupid friend," chuckled Dagur, patting the man on the shoulder. "I hear on excellent authority that you, the Hooligan tribe, are massing an army of monsters."

He chuckled as if that were the funniest thing in the world. The Hobblegrunt shifted its color to an amused vermillion and let out a series of low, chuckling warbles as well.

Laughing alongside the Berserker Chief, Stoick replied, "Excellent authority. And who might that be? Probably not the Meatheads – we've never been too close to them, as you might know."

Now it was the Berkians' turn to chuckle. The Meatheads were the Berserkers' longtime (and only) allies, and they hadn't had contact with Berk in many years.

Dagur suddenly looked nervous and drew a leg behind his other. "Never mind," he said, swiftly avoiding Stoick's question. "All I have to say is that if I find it to be true, then my armada will rise up and crush you with the might of a thousand brave Berserker soldiers!"

"Stand down, Dagur," Batwings growled. "There won't be any need for your armada. As representative of Berk's dragons, I've made it my responsibility to –"

"Old friend!" exclaimed Dagur, cutting off what would have been an elegant and well-crafted lie. Overjoyed, the wiry stick of a teenager threw his arms around the Siren's neck in a playful headlock. "Why, it's been years since I visited your island! I thought you were dead!"

Batwings pushed himself away. "Yes, and thought the same of you. I can see I got my hopes too high."

Hiccup gasped on the sidelines. Batwings and Dagur know each other? he thought. That explains why he seemed so distracted ever since we learned the Berserkers were coming today. I wonder what kind of history they have?

Torch came to Batwings' defense, lightly nudging Dagur away from his friend with his snout. Then he turned to Newtsbreath, and the two dragons sniffed each other curiously before exchanging a greeting. The Hobblegrunt then did the same with Batwings – and thankfully, Hiccup saw his hostility vanish when he regarded the exotic dragon.

So he only has something against Dagur, he realized. Interesting.

"Batwings is right!" Gobber proclaimed cheerfully. "He's done an excellent job organizin' the dragons. Yeh'll find yer visit ta be completely monster free! Now, let's get ta the treaty, shall we?"

"Yes, let's!" agreed Dagur, happily. "According to the treaty, my visit starts with a tour of Berk – the armory, the feast in the Meade Hall, the hunting arena… you do still hunt monsters, right?" he added innocently.

Now it was Stoick that ignored the question. "Your father never found the tour necessary," he said dangerously.

"If you hadn't noticed," Dagur replied evenly, "I'm not my father."

Something in his tone, an unspoken insult or implication perhaps, sparked anger in the Chief. When Dagur turned around to gaze at what he could see of Berk, Stoick raised a fist as if about to strike him down. Batwings, however, grabbed his arm firmly and stopped him – the humanoid dragon's claws were painful enough to make up for his lack of Viking-like strength.

"I know exactly how you feel," he whispered, "but please, not in front of the armada."

Hesitating at first, Stoick at last lowered his arm. "Thank you, Batwings," he whispered back. "I can see I made the right choice in making you my dragon ambassador."

The tension was so high that, when Dagur left momentarily to gather some of his soldiers, no one noticed Hiccup bolt for the village.

Hiccup made his escape so fast, a wittier Viking would have remarked that he was like a Grapple Grounder being chased by an eel. He was looking for anyone that he could turn to for help.

"Oh, this is bad, this is bad, this is really freakin' bad…" he kept saying to himself as he raced through the plaza.

The Haddock turned into an alleyway between two houses and, in his haste, he slammed right into Astrid coming the other way. They both screamed in surprise and toppled to the ground, Astrid ending up crushed (well, maybe not crushed) beneath Hiccup. When they had both shaken their heads to clear away the pain, it was only then that they realized their noses were touching.

"Come here often, big guy?" Astrid asked teasingly.

Blushing furiously, Hiccup pushed himself up off of her and graciously helped her to her feet. For a few moments, they stood there looking at their feet and rubbing their arms awkwardly.

"Hiccup, we have a problem," said Astrid, all of a sudden.

"You're telling me!" he blurted, impulsively running his hands through his hair. "Dagur's the new Berserker Chief?"

"WHAT?!" the blonde nearly shrieked.

"Yeah!" Hiccup agreed, understanding her reaction. "His father 'retired'! And that's not the worst bit – he thinks we're amassing an army of monsters?"

Regaining control of her cool, Astrid folded her arms and scoffed at that idea. Then, she pointed downwards and told him, "And that brings us to our next problem."

Hiccup followed her finger and found his own feet planted in a pair of footprints. They were easily recognizable as belonging to a large, mammalian carnivore, and he could only think of two monsters that fit the bill.

"King? Queen? Here?" he asked disbelievingly.

The answer he got was a distant growl. By reflex, Hiccup and Astrid turned around and saw none other than the Thorstons' elder dragons themselves snacking on an unattended basket of fish at the edge of the plaza. To make matters worse, the sounds of talking could be heard – the Berserkers were heading up the path, and if they made it into the plaza, they'd immediately catch sight of Queen and King!

Making haste, Hiccup and Astrid rushed out of their alley and snatched the fish basket. They lured the hungry Lunastra and Teostra away from the plaza and safely out of sight just as Stoick and the others led Dagur and his men to the food stores.

"And here we are, at the food storage," announced Gobber. "It's where we… well, you know…"

"Ooh, ooh, let me guess!" Dagur said with mock enthusiasm, then dropped the act. "It's where you store food. Booooooring! I want to see the monster killing things!"

"Right this way," grumbled Stoick.

Newtsbreath twisted his long neck around to look back at Batwings, Torch, and Thornado, and rolled his eyes as if saying, Trust me, it gets worse.

As the party left the food stores, none of them noticed a Teostra and Lunastra gallop across the plaza and to another part of the village, a pair of Monster Riders in desperate pursuit.

Back in the alleyway, a small figure hidden on the roof swung upside down, using the bend of her legs to cling to the edge. A suspicious frown stretched downward across her face.

"Did Hiccup just say Oswald 'retired'?" Arachne asked herself, narrowing her eyes.

It was safe to say that no one was having quite as much fun as Dagur was. In the armory, the kid was like a dragon in a field of dragon nip.

"Take that, Barroth!" the Berserker Chief shouted, twirling a Longsword around. "Want some of this, Deviljho? Prepare to meet your end, Rajang!"

Over his demented-sounding cackles, Batwings leaned toward Thornado and muttered, "He really has a handle on that whole 'deranged' thing."

The Thunderdrum snorted with amusement, then stopped laughing when the Longsword hit the wall right over his head.

"Well, I'm about to make him eat this sword," growled Stoick, pulling the weapon out of the wall.

This time, it was Gobber who hastily intervened. "Why don't we get on with signin' tha' treaty now?" he suggested cheerfully.

"You guys sound like my father," snickered Dagur, then adopted a falsely-concerned voice as he mimicked Oswald. "'Sign the treaty, Dagur! Leave that chicken alone, Dagur! Agh, put down that Lance, Dagur!'"

"Your father is a great man," Batwings said sourly, touching his neck for the umpteenth time that day. "We'll not have you disrespect him."

"My father was a coward, Flatwings," Dagur corrected, a smug smile on his face. "I intend to restore the Berserkers to their former glory, something that he was… incapable of doing."

Sensing that things were about to get ugly between the mad teenager and insulted Siren, Gobber flung his hook arm around Dagur's soldiers and changed the subject, laying the praise on thick in order to distract him. Charming people wasn't exactly the burly blacksmith's strong suit, but it worked, and Dagur started enthusiastically describing his "deranged plans for the Berserker tribe".

While he talked, a fiercely-scowling Batwings turned the expression on Newtsbreath. "Your new master is something to be ashamed of," he hissed. "That boy and his bloodthirstiness is going to wipe out his entire tribe someday. Why did you stay when Oswald the Agreeable made him Chief?"

The Hobblegrunt met his glare with a look of sadness and let out a low warble.

"Then he's the coward," Batwings decided. "Holding your family hostage like that… and for what, to have a fancy pet on display when he wants to impress someone? Newtsbreath, I promise, if the opportunity ever arises, I'm going to strike Dagur down and free you, as well as anyone else under his oppression."

Newtsbreath did nothing but blink, gratitude welling up in his eyes in the form of tears.

Village Plaza

Briefly, Hiccup and Astrid had split up to look for Queen and King, but the elder dragons seemed to have vanished yet again. They met up in front of Gobber's smithy, empty-handed.

"Where did they go?" asked Astrid.

"I have no idea," Hiccup replied, sounding close to a breakdown. "You see if you can't rally the others, and I'll go warn my dad."

Before she could reply, Hiccup took off at a sprint for the armory, where he had seen Stoick and the rest of the party walk off to.

Then, right as he reached the armory doors, a pair of snaky necks stretched down to his eye level, nearly scaring the Thor out of Hiccup. He leapt back in alarm, then relaxed when he saw it was only a Hideous Zippleback, the same dragon that he and the group had encountered earlier that day. It was dangling from the roof of the building by its tails, with an inquisitive look on its… faces.

"You two shouldn't be here," Hiccup warned the dragon. "If Dagur sees you, he'll probably try to make a rug out of your skin."

The Zippleback's two heads exchanged quizzical glances.

"Come on," the Chief-to-be muttered under his breath. "Think like Ruff and Tuff. Ugh, I can't believe I just said that."

He started waving his hands at the Zippleback, repeatedly saying things like "Fly away! Go! Sky!" But all he got out of the dragon was a couple of amused chuckles.

Suddenly, the handle of the armory door started to rattle, and Hiccup could hear Dagur's voice muttering something on the other side. He held his breath, thinking that there was nothing he could do but brace himself for whatever was coming next – and then the Hideous Zippleback was yanked off the roof and out of sight by some invisible force.

The next thing Hiccup knew, he was looking at Dagur's disappointed mug.

"No signs of use, no bloodstains… pity," he said over his shoulder. Then he turned his head, saw Hiccup, and instantly broke into a warm smile. "Ah, Hiccup! It's been a while!"

"Dagur!" the shorter boy exclaimed, feigning joy. "I was just thinking about you, and the time where we went swimming and you tried to drown me…"

"Oh, the fun times we had, huh?" Dagur laughed, brushing past him.

But then, he suddenly stopped and turned back around. "Hang on. Where is it?"

Hiccup gulped and tried, "And… uh, what, what would that be?"

"Your leg," replied Dagur, pointing to the prosthetic that the Haddock boy wore in place of a flesh-and-bone foot.

"Oh, oh that," he said, relieved. "We're Vikings. It's an occupational hazard."

"You don't have to explain," Dagur said conversationally. "I heard all about it! You, the Fatalis, how you killed it all on your own?"

At that point, Batwings, followed by Torch, had strolled out of the armory and seen the two chatting. Always a quick thinker, the Siren let out a loud, exaggerated bark of laughter upon hearing Dagur's last question. "What?! Look at him! How in the name of Odin's beard is that even possible?"

Fooled, Dagur replied excitedly, "I thought so too, Catwings! And then – oh, and you'll never believe this! – I heard about how he trained monsters!" Then, he gave into a fit of cackles that went on and on, like training monsters was the most ridiculous idea in the world.

Batwings frowned at the mispronunciation of his name, which deepened when Torch let out a snort of amusement.

"T-Trained monsters?" Hiccup parroted, flustered. "Oh, come on. H-How would you train a monster?"

All of a sudden, Dagur grew serious. "I don't know. How would you?"

Hiccup stopped dead. The question was asked with all honesty, as if Dagur really was interested in training a monster. It was possible that he wanted to learn so that he could become an even more imposing and fearsome leader of the Berserkers (a better image with a monster than that goofy-looking Hobblegrunt), but then again, giving Dagur the Deranged more weapons was like giving a Zamtrios sharper teeth. No good would come of it.

But something didn't add up here. He was doing all these things, bringing back all these unnecessary traditions as the new Berserker Chief to try and prove the rumor he had apparently heard, the one about a monster army. He had threatened to crush Berk beneath his heel if it was true! So why did he seem genuinely curious?

Thankfully, Stoick walked out the door alongside Gobber, Spitelout, and the Berserkers. "Alright, who's hungry?" he asked, breaking the tension. "It's time for the feast in the Meade Hall you insisted on, Dagur."

"It's that way," Gobber added helpfully, pointing with his hook. But, while he and Spitelout led Dagur and his soldiers away, Stoick stayed behind with his son.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"I, ah… we've got a bit of a monster problem," Hiccup answered sheepishly. "We really need the twins."

That last sentence was meant for his ears only, but Stoick heard it. "Did you just say what I think you said? Are you feeling alright, son?"

"Yeah, and I'm not kidding," replied Hiccup, reluctantly.

He dashed off without another word to his dad. The first place he ran to was the back of the armory, where the Zippleback had been pulled away to. When he rounded the corner, there were Snotlout and Hookfang lounging around, the Zippleback's tail caught in the Monstrous Nightmare's jaws.

"You're welcome," Snotlout said without looking up. "Now I need your help."

The narcissistic Jorgenson got up from where he was leaning against Hookfang's neck and walked around to the other side of the dragon, before Hiccup could even ask what he needed. A second later, Snotlout came out from behind Hookfang carrying a small cage, spacious enough for Snaketail to crouch in with her back pressing against the top.

Which she was.

"Don't even ask," the Grundenson girl snarled, her hands bloody from pulling on the bars and her hair tangled wildly. "Just get me out of this prison so I can mount Dagur's head on my wall!"

I got a Toothless plushie for my birthday. He's sitting beside me right now, watching me write this! (I also got two posters – pterosaurs and the Tree of Life. Awesome!)

For some reason, I think a Hobblegrunt would really suit Dagur.

And yes, I have a possible new role for Batwings in the future – representing the monsters and dragons in Berk's government. Should I go through with that?

Next chapter, coming soon!