Captain Hiccup Of Asgard

by geofracul

This story happens when hiccup is sent to show the big burglars that dragons are good and positive however the gods have better ideas. (this is not my story however I continued it with is promition)

22. hiccup is gone

Chapter 22: Hiccup is Gone

South Archipelago Seas, Day 13 Since Hiccup's Departure

Drago Bludvist was not a man who got scared of things. In fact, circumstances were quite the opposite. Anyone who laid eyes on HIM usually got scared, and Drago Bludvist was proud of this fact. He was also proud that no one had ever been able to make him feel fear in his entire life.

That is: until now.

"You misunderstand me, Lord Bludvist," the cold voice stated. "This was not a request. This was a command."

Drago looked down at the source of his terror. It was a mere man, but then again, not so. This being was clad in a suit of spiked brown armor, a style of which he had never seen before in all his years of battle. A black cross was etched on the brown, ugly breastplate. Despite his formidable and distasteful look, this being should not have been able to scare Drago.

But indeed, Drago was scared of him. Drago settled himself with the unpleasant fact that he was terrified of this man: this man who called himself Lord Zyon. It did not help that Zyon had soared into his camp of ships on the back of a massive Skrill, which was now outside terrorizing his men.

"Lord Zyon," Drago scowled, biting back his fear. "I am not accustomed to rogue dragon riders storming my camp and giving me, the commander of an Alpha Bewilderbeast, orders that supposedly come from some demonic she-God of the Dark. In fact, I believe I will cut off your head. Your Skrill, however, I may have a use for. You will forgive me if I refuse to accept your offer."

"I would not forgive you." Zyon's voice was as harsh as his mask. The menacing brown cover passed over his face, shielding what was behind it. Drago suspected he did not care to see what was behind the mask. Zyon continued in his harsh, grating tone.

"Trust me, Lord Bludvist, your cooperation is not required for me to complete my task. My talents are far beyond any you could possibly imagine. I could have your head on a pike in two seconds."

"You lie." Drago was gritting his teeth.

"Hog shit. You know that it is true. For Hel's sake, you're trembling. Try not to piss in your breeches."

Zyon took a menacing step forward. The two guards by Drago's throne stepped to block the brown-clad rider. It was the last thing they ever did. A flash of metal whizzed through the air, and blood spurted. Two severed heads crashed to the floor, and Drago leapt to his feet to call for help. But in two quick bounds, Zyon jumped up to the throne and seized Drago's neck, his brown-white sword dripping with the two guard's blood. Drago's shout gurgled in his throat as Zyon's iron glove tightened on his neck.

"My God, but you are a slime," Zyon hissed. "For a rusty dagger I'd break your pathetic neck. If I was acting on my own, I would. But my I am required to get you. I was ordered by the Queen to rule all Queens, the Goddess Hel, who believe me, is VERY real, to recruit you for her cause. However, I would prefer to discuss the terms of Hel's agreement in a slightly better manner than what I am doing now. Would you agree?"

Drago, whose face was turning purple, managed a nod. His neck was being held so tightly he thought his blood vessels would burst.

"Very good." Zyon released his hold on Drago. "This is a complicated matter, and while I gather that your trust and cooperation with me is somewhere below the level of zero, you should understand that my proposal is to your benefit: much more so than you deserve. Do you have a suitable room with some chairs?"

Drago nodded. "I do."

Zyon chuckled softly. "Then let us discuss how together we will overthrow the world of Midgard."

High Asgard, Day 13 since Hiccup's Departure

Hiccup was too lost in his thoughts to mock the guards. He was on his way back up from the dungeons, his mind still in turmoil over what he had discussed with Loki.

"How can that be true?" He muttered. "How? It must be, though. I did it. I killed the Pawn and spared the Knight. One life must be worth more than another. Oh, man, I wish Toothless was here, and we could talk about it."

Sighing, Hiccup pushed open the heavy stone door of the dungeons and, after a flight of stairs, found himself back into the red-carpeted marble walled corridors of the more luxurious Asgard. And there, waiting in an alcove, was Asgeirr. Hiccup stopped and scowled. Just the sight of Asgeirr these days made him feel threatened.

Asgeirr had been leaning against the wall, and as Hiccup approached, he straightened.

"You look befuddled, Riddari." It was a statement.

Hiccup shrugged, keeping his frown on his face. "I'm in a bit of a mental turmoil," he replied. "Every time I talk to Loki he just shows me how deadly smart he is."

"Watch out, Riddari," Asgeirr warned. "Loki's words alone are dangerous. Odin and I discussed what he is trying to teach you, and I actually requested that your training with Loki be abolished completely. So did Odin, but the Council disagreed with us."

"The five Council Gods?" Hiccup queried.

"The same," Asgeirr answered. "So your training with Loki shall remain. However, that is done for the day. Now we begin the first test, which I actually think you will enjoy." Asgeirr gestured to a door.

"What's that?" Hiccup asked.

"Oh, you will like this room," Asgeirr smiled. "You were a smith? Then come on in."

Asgeirr turned a key, and the door opened with a noiseless swoosh. Hiccup entered the room, and gasped.

What he saw before him was the most awesome and quality workshop and forge that he had ever seen. Supplies, equipment, and tools that he had never seen before were hanging from walls, boxes of items piled in corners, and layers upon layers of metal ore highlighted the area. But what caught his eye the most was the forge itself.

Hiccup whistled as he stepped forward. The forge was expertly wrought, with zero flaws, and it was already heated and stoked. Bellows were working automatically with no one operating them. It was incredible.

"So." Asgeirr was smiling. "How do you like it, Riddari?"

"I – I don't have the words," Hiccup marveled. "Gobber would kill to use this just once."

"And you shall use it just once," Asgeirr stated. "For this, while it is unique for you, is NOT a game. This is a test, a very complex and very difficult test."

Hiccup turned to look at Asgeirr. "Go on."

"Well," Asgeirr said coolly, "The objective is as follows. You are to use your intelligence and ingenuity to create a device, anything, and it does not matter what, but it must be useful and it must be entirely unique. That is all."

"Entirely unique?" Hiccup was frowning. "What do you mean by that?"

"I mean," Asgeirr went on, "that making something as primitive as a sword or an axe is not going to make you pass. You need to make something that no one has seen before. For instance, Riddari Zyon, when he was assigned this task, designed a way to charge his sword with lightning from his dragon Krelvin. He was able capture and fire lightning from the sword itself. Needless to say, making such a device was more than enough. Riddari Kaldr, now Captain of the Armies of Alfheim, was even more proficient at this. He made a device that combined the magic of elves and Gods. It allows the user to take the magic of any given God and store it in a box, to be used at the possessor's discretion. The Council Gods considered it SO dangerous that they confiscated it immediately. However, Alfheim learned of the confiscation and demanded that we hand it over to them. We were forced to do so for diplomatic reasons."

"Where is it?" Hiccup was stunned. "I could use that! I could use it to take Thor's power and use it myself for a brief time! I could use that to fight Hel!"

"Many could use it," Asgeirr scowled. "And it is FAR too deadly to give away. It is stored in the deepest holds of Alfheim. It is kept in a locked box, and Captain Kaldr carries the key around his neck. He is also the only person who knows how to make it. You'll never be able to create it, trust me."

"Holy Thor," Hiccup muttered.

"Yes," Asgeirr agreed. "So you see the standard that has been set for you."

"Right." Hiccup grew sober.

"However," Asgeirr continued, "do not be discouraged, Riddari. We have more materials here then you could have possibly dreamed of. Anything, your wildest fantasy for a device, you can probably make. You have the added advantage of being a smith. So, with that in mind, do you have an idea? I can get you whatever supplies you ask for."

Hiccup grinned.

"All right," he smiled. "I've had this idea nagging at me for a while, but never tested it. However, you said ANY supplies, but I don't think even you have this. You wouldn't have happened to have taken any Night Fury saliva from Toothless before you shipped him off to Alfheim, did you?"

Asgeirr reacted as if slapped.

"What made you ask THAT, Riddari?" He exploded, astonished. "How did you know we took some saliva?"

"I didn't." Hiccup frowned. "Wait, you DO have Night Fury saliva? Toothless'?"

Asgeirr was silent for a second, but then answered.

"We do have it."

"Why?" Hiccup was surprised. "What use could you possibly have for that stuff? Dragon Iron?"

"Yes," Asgeirr stated. "We are using it to make Night Fury Dragon Iron. It's never been done, and the result should be spectacular."

"What are you using it for?"

"Things."

"That's not an answer, Asgeirr."

"If I told you anything, would you believe me?" Asgeirr asked, seriously. "Forget it. It's not for you to know. However, we can spare some. Do you need it for Dragon Iron, too?"

"No. Not Dragon Iron. That can be done anytime, I mean, what's so special about Dragon Iron?" Hiccup shrugged. "I want it for this new thing I want to build."

"Fine." Asgeirr conceded. "Night Fury saliva. I'll get it for you. Anything else?"

"Yeah," Hiccup grinned. "I want several moldable thin sheets of thin metal, a box of oiled fuses, a hot forge torch, and – a Zippleback."

Asgeirr stared. "A Zippleback?"

"Right."

Asgeirr chuckled. "Well, out of all the material requests the others gave me, yours has been by far the most bizarre. But fine. I will get you all that stuff, including a Zippleback. For the love of Odin, I am afraid to ask what you're making."

"Then don't." Hiccup grinned. "Just get me my stuff. I want to see if this thing works."

"Geez," Asgeirr muttered, and walked out.

Berk, Day 13 Since Hiccup's Departure

The wind whipped in Astrid's face, slightly obscuring her vision of their final destination: home. Astrid reached down to pat Spike, the dragon she was riding. She had wanted to ride Stormfly, but the arrow wounds she had received were too severe, and she had to remain on the island near the Bog. Heather had offered to stay with her, and Astrid, who wanted desperately to get back to Berk, had accepted. Now she was riding her mother's dragon, and Heather was left behind.

The tall island of Berk loomed in the distance. Astrid dreaded stepping back onto the island, but she had to face the music. It would be hard. Everyone would be bitter about the confirmed death of Hiccup, and Astrid was not looking forward to the reactions. However, she also had to take care of business. Several things were on her list of things to do.

First, she needed to have a talk with her parents. The whole marriage contract business with Snotlout was getting almost intolerable. She needed to get the facts on what was really going on.

Second, she had to see Gothi. She hadn't had one of her strange visions for a while, but the fact remained that she had been seeing them, and they were vividly real. Deep in her heart she wished they might possibly be visions of the future, since Hiccup had been older and well. But he was dead. She couldn't escape that.

Or could she? Fishlegs had made her think twice when he saw the dragons that were caged on the Bog. He didn't understand why the Bog Burglars had killed Hiccup. He had been quiet the entire trip, and without Heather travelling with them, the only people who had spoken were the twins and Snotlout. Tuffnut and Snotlout were currently involved in a savage argument which looked as if it might come to blows. However, they were almost home.

The four dragons zoomed down to the landing area by the docks and dropped onto the wooden planks with a thud. Spike curled her wings, and Astrid looked up. She gawked.

Berk was overrun. There were dragons EVERYWHERE. Big dragons, little dragons, Nightmares, Nadders, Gronkles, and all kinds of other species were crowded in every street. Vikings, all dressed in full battle armor, were running around.

The allies had arrived.

Astrid slid off Spike, and Fishlegs and the others followed suit, their leather boots thudding against the docks. Caked dried blood crumbled off of Astrid's side as she moved, and she clutched her wound as a stab of pain raced across it.

Stoick the Vast, his face hardened, came up to them, even as a crowd of Vikings began to gather around the docks, staring and pointing at the new arrivals.

Stoick looked tired and angry.

"You did not find Hiccup." It was a statement, not a question.

"No," Astrid whispered. "Camicazi said that she killed him. He's – dead."

Stoick took a deep breath.

"Then we go to war," he muttered. He turned to Fishlegs. "Ingerman."

"Yes chief."

"I congratulate you on your plan to get the allies here immediately. We now have all dragon riders from the Meatheads and Bashem Island. It is even more than I had hoped for. You did well. How did the raid go?"

"Fantastic, chief." Fishlegs was smiling. "We wrecked the outer defenses, eliminated their forge and armory, and slaughtered over a score of Boggies, without losing a single life."

Stoick frowned. "Then where is Heather?"

"She stayed back at the island we left with Stormfly," Astrid explained. "Stormfly is hurt, and Heather chose to stay with her. She's alive and well."

Stoick nodded. "Very well. Fishlegs, we are leaving in a few hours to attack the Bog once and for all. Rest your dragons. All the preparations are made and the allies are all ready for war. But first, we must take care of one thing. All of you, come with me. We were waiting for you to return to do this."

"Do what?" Tuffnut asked, coming up.

"Have a funeral." Stoick said quietly. As if to corroborate him, a horn blew, and all the Vikings in the village began to turn and walk to the east edge of the island, where the sun was rising steadily in the distance.

Walking down to the shoreline, Astrid gasped. What she saw broke her heart.

It was a Viking ship, in full sail, Berkian colors billowing in the breeze. It was roped to the docks, but even as Astrid gazed upon it, two Vikings came forward and solemnly unfurled the sails. The breeze filled the sail, and there, on it, the sat a glorious painted image of Hiccup and Toothless, standing side by side. Tears came to Astrid's eyes. It was Hiccup's Funeral ship. He was being given the ultimate Viking honor.

The crowd had now gathered. A huge mass of Vikings from all three tribes stood behind, but in front, there was the royalty. Astrid, despite her sorrow, was interested in the characters.

There was Chief Mogadon of the Meathead tribe. He was easy to point out because of his absolutely enormous size. He made Stoick look like a child, for Mogadon was easily seven and a half feet tall. He was unequivocally gigantic.

Beside him, looking slightly smaller but still ferocious, was Mogadon's brother Megadeath. Megadeath was about the size of Stoick, and fully as muscular. They bred them big on the Meathead isles.

Then there was the Bashem Island royalty. Chief Elcroy, the renowned battle master, stood with shining armor in the group of chieftains. His wife, Bashhand, stood at his side, and his heiress, Bashhead, was there also, playing with her sword uncomfortably. She was an enormous girl, but she did not get the size from her father. Chief Elcroy was not thin, but compared to Stoick, Mogadon, and Megadeath he was a toothpick. His wife, however, WAS giant, only a few inches taller – and thinner – than Stoick himself. Elcroy was known for his astonishing skill with a sword, and his battle tactics both with and without dragons.

Snotlout Jorgenson strutted into the group, his arrogant face beaming. He gripped forearms with the Chieftains, and bowed clumsily to the females. But he did look like a Viking heir, Astrid had to admit that. His beefy arms and thick chest showed his strength and Viking power. But someone was missing.

Astrid leaned over to Tuffnut, who was standing beside her.

"Where's Thuggory, the Meathead heir?" she asked.

Tuffnut frowned. "I don't know. Where is that badass?"

Astrid never got to reply. A thunderous roar echoed overhead, and a grey Monstrous Nightmare swooped low over the crowd. The Nightmare was bigger than any Astrid had ever seen, and as it touched down next to the Chieftain's circle, a boy jumped off, landing adroitly on his feet.

It was Thuggory.

Astrid had heard stories about Thuggory the Meathead. He was credited to be the next rising star of Vikingdom. He had been the first man from a tribe other than the Berkians to ride a dragon, gaining this honor when Hiccup flew over to convince them. Thuggory and Hiccup had been tight-knit friends during Hiccup's stay on the Meathead Isles, and Hiccup had praised him more than once. Astrid had thought it all mostly talk, but now she realized that she was wrong.

Thuggory was undoubtedly the finest Viking warrior anyone had ever seen. He was big and strong, but his muscles were not enormous, merely toned and solid. There was no fat. He walked with a dragon riders gait, and a sleek, smooth sword hung at his waist.

Thuggory strode easily over the Chieftain's circle, delivering smooth bows to the females before turning to address Stoick in a tone of respect.

"I just got back from monitoring the Western defenses, Chief. They were run-down in a few places, as you expected. I put ten men to work on them and, with me and Furious helping out, got them fixed already."

"Nice job, Thuggory," Stoick praised. "You are just in time for the funeral."

"I wouldn't miss it," Thuggory stated quietly. "Hiccup was too good to die so soon, Chief. My condolences."

Stoick nodded. He then turned to the Vikings who were down at the docks, where Hiccup's funeral ship stood waiting. He gave a signal, and the men cut the ropes. The wind filled the sails and the glorious ship began to drift into the icy seas. Stoick turned back and addressed the royalty.

"Alas, I am now in a quandary," he smiled. "Usually, when the heir to a tribe dies, the next heir in line or any royalty gets to fire the first flaming arrow onto the ship. However, there is a vast amount of such characters for this funeral. So, who should gain the honor of firing the first arrow?"

Astrid, gasping, jumped forward.

"Chief!" she said. She tried to speak clear and loud, but her voice cracked and her lip trembled. "Chief. I – I was – want – let me fire the first arrow."

Chief Mogadon from the Meatheads glared at her from his towering seven feet. "Who are you, lass?" He demanded. "Are you royalty?"

Astrid shook her head. "No," she whispered.

Mogadon frowned. "Then what makes you think that you should fire the first arrow?"

Stoick spoke up. "She was my son's soon-to-be fiancée."

"Ah." Mogadon nodded. "I understand. But she cannot fire the arrow."

"I agree. However," Stoick said, addressing Astrid, "If we were alone right now, I would give you the honor, lass, without a seconds hesitation. But since we have visiting chieftains from other tribes, I have to follow the old traditions. I'm sorry."

"Hold on a second." It was Thuggory, speaking up. "Traditions be blasted! Let her shoot it, chief Stoick."

"But – chief," Astrid pleaded. "Hiccup would have wanted me to."

"I'm sorry, Astrid." Stoick was as stoic as ever. "I can't let you do this. It must be a Viking of royal blood."

He turned to face the chieftains of the other tribes and their heirs, and Astrid stood rooted to her spot, tears forming in her eyes. Stoick spoke again, not to her.

"In order to resolve this fairly, I think a game of chance would suit our purpose. Would you agree?"

Megadeath, Mogadon's brother, waved his hand. "Of course. Anything. It doesn't matter to me who fires it."

"Very well." Stoick reached over and picked up the arrow, the one that was the first to be fired. The Viking royalty formed a full circle, and then Stoick raised the arrow.

"Whoever the arrow points to shall fire it," he announced, and spun the arrow in the air. Hundreds of eyes followed it as it whirled through the air. Spinning downward, the crowds of Vikings craned their necks to see as the arrow landed in the dirt, the tip pointing at one part of the circle.

The chosen one was Thuggory the Meathead.

"Thuggory." Stoick gestured to the arrow. "You have won. Congratulations. You get to have the honor. The bow is yours." He gestured to the bow.

Thuggory was solemn and quiet as he walked into the circle of chiefs. He picked up the arrow from the dirt, and then took the bow that was offered him by Stoick. Running he fingers down the shaft, he looked up.

"It is mine?" He asked.

"It's yours," Stoick confirmed.

"To do with what I wish?" Thuggory asked.

Stoick nodded. "The lot fell to you. It is your bow. It is your right."

"Then I forfeit the right." Thuggory turned, stepped through the circle, and offered the bow to Astrid.

Astrid gasped, and the chieftains stared.

"You were right," Thuggory smiled, speaking to Astrid. "Hiccup was like that, wasn't he? He would have wanted you to fire the arrow. So I can't easily tell you that you can't, not when I have anything to say about it. Take it, Astrid."

Tears spilled down Astrid's cheeks. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you. I don't – I can't – I don't know what to say, Thuggory."

"Don't say a thing, then." Thuggory smiled and stepped forward. "Just take this bow and arrow and shoot it. Send Hiccup to Valhalla."

Astrid, her tearful eyes shining their gratitude at Thuggory, took the bow and dipped the oil-coated arrow into a torch. Behind her the entire regiment of Vikings did the same. One hundred bows lifted into the air, ready to fire. They were all waiting for Astrid. Astrid paused as she heard Gobber, standing on the shore, speak the fateful words.

"May the Valkyries welcome you and lead you through Odin's great battlefield. May they sing your name with love and fury, so that we might hear it rise from the depths of Valhalla and know that you've taken your rightful place at the table of kings. For a great man has fallen: A warrior. An heir. A son. A friend."

With a final tear, Astrid raised the bow, looking for her target, the ship. But she couldn't see it. Her eyes were filled with tears and too blurry. She couldn't tell where she was aiming. To miss would be a sacrilege. She was helpless, and faltered as the wound in her side ached.

Someone grabbed her elbow with a firm hand, and her shoulder with the other. It was Thuggory, and he leaned his chin on Astrid's shoulder to see the target in her sights. He adjusted her elbow slightly.

"There," he whispered.

Astrid fired. The arrow, blazing into the sunrise, sailed in an arc over the sea and smacked into the hull of the ship. Flames began to appear. On cue, one hundred Vikings behind Astrid all raised their bows, flaming arrows fitted to the string. Then there was a whoosh like the wind as they all fired. A sea of flaming arrows soared into the ship, clustering like bugs onto the wood. The ship was in an inferno almost immediately.

Then Thuggory's dragon Furious raised his neck and roared, a cry that was filled with rage and sorrow. Lifting his head, he blasted a fireball into the air and onto the ship. It burst into roaring flames. In response, all the dragons of Berk, Meathead Isles, and Bashem Island roared and fired flames towards the ship. The result was as expected, the ship was utterly incinerated.

Tears in her eyes, Astrid turned around and joined the huge crowd of people leaving. Thuggory was next to her, trying to clear a path for her, but she was stopped.

"Astrid!" A voice cried, and her mother stepped out of the crowd. "Astrid!"

"Mom," Astrid said sadly. Ingrid, Astrid's mother, stepped forward and embraced her daughter. Astrid melted in her mother's arms, her side aching with pain.

Then she blinked away her tears, grew resolute, and stepped back. Her father was there beside her, and she looked at both her parents.

"We need to talk," she said icily.

Valhalla, Day 13 Since Hiccup's Departure

The smoke rose from Hiccup's destroyed ship and sailed through the clouds, on into the heavens, where the Goddess of Valhalla, Freyja, saw it.

Laughing as she realized that the mortals had made another error in who was dead and who was not, Freyja flicked her wrist to find out where the undead human was.

It came back a blank. The man was not on Midgard.

Frowning, Freyja tried again to find him. The result was the same. The man was gone, but not dead. Frowning deeper, Freyja turned to the bell by her side and rang it. In an instant a guard with winged heels was by her side.

"Carry this message to the AllFather Odin," Freyja snapped. "A human is missing from Midgard and is presumed dead. I need to know where he is. I have reason to think he is on Asgard."

The guard nodded, and sped off.

Berk, Day 13 Since Hiccup's Departure

"So, what is this YAKshit about Snotlout offering you guys MARRIAGE contracts?!" Astrid exploded. "I have to hear about this from his own mouth! Why didn't you tell me?"

She was sitting at a table in her parent's house, drinking a cup of mead and resting her injured side.

"Astrid, you need to eat," her mother said sternly, sliding a bowl of chicken legs over to her. "You're hungry and tired. Eat something."

"Listen to your mother," her father stated.

"All right!" Astrid grabbed a chicken leg and sunk her teeth into it. She tore off the meat and started chewing. "Fine! I'm eating now! Now what the hell is all this about marriage contracts!?"

"Sven," Ingrid said to Astrid's father.

"Right." Sven Hofferson stepped forward and spoke. "Look, Astrid, we're sorry for not telling you earlier, but we didn't think there was a need to. The Jorgensons have been making marriage offers to us ever since Hiccup started to show interest in you. We rejected them all on the grounds that Hiccup was going to marry you soon, which was true. There was no need to let you know about it – it would only have upset you."

"Damn right it would have!" Astrid snapped, tossing down her first chicken leg and grabbing a second. "It has! But that was my future! You should have at least told me!"

"There was no need!" Sven roared. "I was NEVER, in a million years, even DREAMING of accepting a marriage offer from the JORGENSONS! For my own daughter – by the Gods, it was a Thor-damned insult! I told Spitelout if he came to me with another offer I would kill him."

Sven paused, and Ingrid spoke.

"But then Hiccup disappeared. That changed things."

"It didn't change a DAMN thing!" Sven exploded, hitting the table. "I don't care if Hiccup is dead, it changes NOTHING! The day my daughter has the last name of Jorgenson I will come back from the dead! And I say I'll come from the dead because it will NEVER happen as long as I'm alive! But I can't kill Spitelout anymore. Hiccup is dead, and we have no grounds other than the fact that I fucking hate the Jorgensons to refuse. So they will keep coming, with better offers. But don't get ME wrong, girl! You will NEVER be married to Snotlout! NEVER! Dear Odin, even the THOUGHT is outrageous! NO! I have never given you an order about who you could marry, Astrid, but I'm giving you one now! I am ordering you to NEVER MARRY SNOTLOUT FUCKING JORGENSON!"

Sven would have gone on, but Astrid was doing something strange. Her shoulder were shaking, but not with crying. Tears were coming from her eyes, but not from sadness. No. It was neither of those.

Astrid Hofferson was laughing.

High Asgard, Day 13 since Hiccup's Departure

Asgeirr flung open the door, and saw Hiccup kneeling by the forge in the center of the room, attaching a waxed string to something with his hands. Asgeirr put his hands on his hips and scowled.

"It's been two hours, Riddari," he snapped. "You only have one more hour left in the test. Are you close to being done?"

Hiccup blew on the table, and metal shavings flew up and away. Rising, he grabbed a rag and began to wipe his hands, even as he stepped back and spoke to Asgeirr.

"Iamdone, Asgeirr."

"DONE?" Asgeirr laughed. "And what have you created?"

Hiccup pointed to the table, on which sat an egg-sized metal shell with a fuse sticking out of it.

"That THING!" Asgeirr laughed derisively. "That looks like a dog turd with a string sticking out of it! What in the name of bloodless worms could that tiny device ever accomplish!?"

Flushing, Hiccup ignored the insults and held a candle to the end of the fuse. Then he rose again and stepped back to stand by Asgeirr.

"You're actually probably right," Hiccup admitted. "It is most likely useless. But it may show some promise and I can adjust it to make it better in the future. Maybe it'll set the table on fire."

Asgeirr frowned. "Wait, what is it supposed to be?" He demanded.

"It's supposed to kind of, you know, explode," Hiccup told him. "And you know what, let's just get behind this table. Maybe it's a little dangerous -"

The fuse reached the end, and all hell broke loose. Hiccup and Asgeirr were lifted off their feet and hurled against the wall with the force of the explosion. Greenish red flames roared from the egg-shaped device and blasted Hiccup and Asgeirr with hot fire as they fell to the ground. Broken pieces of debris and wood clattered around them as the smoke cleared. Hiccup and Asgeirr, both groaning in agony, looked up and saw the whole forge on fire. Green smoke was drifting all over.

As if by magic (maybe it was) water poured from a thousand small holes in the ceiling, drenching the room in a deluge of cold liquid. Hiccup and Asgeirr were soaked to the skin as they writhed on the ground in pain. But the water extinguished the fire, and the smoke began to clear.

Hiccup and Asgeirr struggled to their feet. Hiccup grabbed the edge of a table to help himself rise. His face and all other parts of him that was bare skin felt raw and singed. The explosion had been hot and fast.

Asgeirr was on his feet, and shaking in – fear?

He pointed to the table. There was the iron shell Hiccup had forged, with the pieces bent and broken. Smoke still poured form the shell, and the edges of the metal were red-hot. Asgeirr, still trembling, yelled louder than Hiccup had ever heard before.

"WHAT WAS THAT?!" He screamed.

"That," Hiccup groaned, "was what I call a Zippleback bomb. It uses the gas from a Zippleback dragon and compresses it into a fluid which is contained in that metal shell. When lit, the result is apparently quite deadly."

"Where is the design for this!?" Asgeirr roared.

"Uhh, design?" Hiccup asked. "You mean if I drew it on paper and wrote down steps?"

"Did you!?"

"Of course."

"Where are the papers!?"

Hiccup pointed. "On that desk. They got partly burnt, I'm afraid."

Asgeirr didn't wait to hear more. He leapt over to the papers and flung every last one into the hottest part of the forge. The papers caught on fire and vanished in the blink of an eye.

"Hey!" Hiccup shouted, jumping forward as his design was burnt like a twig.

Asgeirr whirled on Hiccup and seized his collar. "Are you crazy?" He roared. "Don't you realize what you've done?!"

Hiccup stared. Asgeirr, whose face was inches away from his own, looked more remarkable than Hiccup had ever seen. His trainer was truly and genuinely terrified.

"I have no idea what you mean," Hiccup replied. "I was trying to pass the test. That's all. Did I?"

Asgeirr released Hiccup and threw his hands in air. "Did you pass? Holy Thor, you'd ask THAT question at a time like this?!"

Hiccup stared. "What are you going on about, Asgeirr?!" he was beginning to get angry.

"Fool!" Asgeirr pointed to the smoking remains of the bomb. "You don't get it, do you? For centuries the GODS have been trying to create a device like this. Magicians, elders, and smiths have labored years attempting to build a bomb like that. Having such a weapon would be the turning point of wars! But no one could ever design it. But here, YOU, of all people, make one in less than an hour."

Hiccup stared. "Wait… that bomb is wanted?"

Asgeirr closed his eyes in disbelief. "Yes. A bomb like that would mean a lot to the kingdom of Asgard. And only you can make it."

Asgeirr stepped forward and drew his sword. He pointed it at Hiccup. Hiccup instantly reacted by reaching for Hicca on his back. However, Asgeirr stepped quickly forward and placed the tip of his sword against Hiccup's neck.

Hiccup froze, his fingers touching the hilt of Hicca.

"Let me make one thing clear right now," Asgeirr hissed. "The knowledge and the design for that bomb goes NOWHERE. It will be a secret. Even I will not know how to make it. If knowledge of that bomb gets out, then Odin knows what will happen. You will tell NO ONE how to make that bomb. Is that clear?"

"Get that sword away from my neck," Hiccup said quietly.

Asgeirr complied. He lowered his sleek blade from Hiccup's neck. A thin drop of blood appeared where the tip had rested. Asgeirr sheathed his sword. It slid into his grey scabbard with a click.

As soon as he did so, Hiccup attacked. In the blink of an eye he whipped Hicca from his back and lunged at Asgeirr. The tip of his blade stopped at Asgeirr's neck, in the exact same position that he had just been in. Asgeirr tensed and then stood very still.

"You've put me through a lot," Hiccup whispered savagely, pressing with the tip of Hicca. "The Wolf, your dumb training, and all of it. I can take that pain. But one thing I will NEVER do is submit to someone under duress. I will die first. Holding a sword to my neck will not affect my choices. Also, I don't like it. You are here to train me, not to kill me. If you threaten me like that again, Asgeirr, I willkillyou."

Hiccup's voice was laced with hate. Asgeirr said nothing. He only glanced down at Hicca and then back up at Hiccup. He met Hiccup's green eyes calmly and coolly. He showed no fear.

Hiccup lowered his gaze, and let Hicca fall from Asgeirr's neck. A streak of blood appeared on Asgeirr's neck. For three seconds no one spoke, but then Hiccup sheathed Hicca and sighed.

"I'm not sorry for that, Asgeirr. But you're right, about the Zippleback bomb. I'll keep it a secret. I won't put anything on paper or tell anyone how to make it. Agreed?"

Asgeirr nodded. "Agreed."

"So did I pass the test?"

Asgeirr managed a laugh. "Thor dammit, of COURSE." He reached up and wiped the blood off his neck with his sleeve.

"So what's next?" Hiccup asked, wiping his own blood off.

Asgeirr frowned. "Well, you have one final test, but that will be tomorrow morning. If you pass that one, you get to see Toothless again and you also advance to the next stage."

"Tomorrow?"

"Right."

"Then what should I do for the rest of today?" Hiccup asked. "I've got a ton of time."

Asgeirr walked to the door, turned around, and shrugged. "Do whatever you want. Explore. Roam. Satisfy your curiosity. Meet people. Just don't do anything excessively stupid while I'm gone."

"Where are you going?" Hiccup demanded.

"To discuss this new bomb with the Asgardian Council, you moron!" Asgeirr shouted, and then left, closing the door with a bang.

Berk, Day 13 Since Hiccup's Departure

Astrid and Gobber walked up the hill to Gothi's hut. It was a rather humorous spectacle, for Astrid was taking long, determined strides and Gobber was hurrying on his peg leg to keep up.

"Gee, hold on, Astrid!" he complained. "Take pity on the old man, will ye?"

"Come on, Gobber, you're not that slow," Astrid sighed. "And I'm injured, too. Just hurry up."

"And jest what am I coming with ye for again?" Gobber asked, hobbling on.

"I need you to translate." Astrid told him.

"Translate? Oh, ye mean Gothi?"

"Yes!" Astrid snapped. "Who else!" She stopped at the door to Gothi's hut and knocked loudly three times.

"Good point." Gobber sighed, coming up to stand next to Astrid at the door. "Look, Astrid, why are ye so darn upset at everything? I know Hiccup's gone, but we all knew he was dead. I think ye need to get over it."

Astrid whirled. She grabbed Gobber's collar with a strong hand.

"I NOT going to get over it!" She shouted. "You hear me! I don't just 'get over' things like Hiccup DYING! No! I'm not getting over it! I'm not going to be over it until I've stripped every bone from that bitch Camicazi's body! I'll rip her heart out! I'll murder her! And YOU, Gobber, are you OVER it? Are you happy that Hiccup is dead? Afraid he was going to take over your job as smith?"

Gobber's face turned dark with rage. He grabbed Astrid's wrist and tore her arm off his collar. He twisted it sharply, and Astrid grunted in pain.

"Look, Astrid," Gobber said, and his voice was meaner than Astrid had ever heard it before. "I know ye liked Hiccup, but I did too. I liked Hiccup before ye ever even decided to notice him. I was the one who comforted him after ye and the rest of the gang tormented him when he was a laddie. Don't you be tellin me what I should be doin. Hiccup is gone. That's all there is to it. Maybe Cami killed him, and maybe she didn't, but I'm not goin to go makin everyone's life miserable because I'm on a revenge streak! Ye get me!"

He released Astrid's wrist. Astrid held it her hand, wincing.

"I'm sorry, Gobber," she sighed. "I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. I'm just – frustrated, OK?"

"Yeah." Gobber gestured to Gothi's door. "So ye want me to translate stuff?"

"Yes."

The door swung open, and Gothi, the small old woman, peered out at Gobber and Astrid.

"Hey Gothi," Gobber said. "Astrid here wants to see ye."

Gothi squinted up at Gobber and then nodded. She turned away from the door and beckoned for the two of them to enter, leaning on her staff.

Astrid and Gobber entered the cozy home of the village elder. It was the law of Berk that the elder be housed and sheltered by the ones capable of doing the work. This was strictly upheld, and with all the gifts Gothi had received for healing family members and others, her house was well-stocked with provisions and warmth.

Astrid took a seat at the small table, and Gothi trundled over to the fireplace, where a tea kettle was boiling. She brought it over, poured two cups for Gobber and Astrid, and then a final one for herself. Only then did she sit down across from Astrid and peer intently at her. Gobber stood beside Gothi, ready to translate anything the woman might write.

Astrid felt her tea with the tip of her tongue – it was too hot. Setting it down, she took a deep breath.

"It all started the day before Hiccup left," she told Gothi. "I mean, I started to see these strange visions in my sleep. I say visions because they weren't dreams. They were too real, I mean, they were vividly clear. Sometimes I would feel physical effects of these visions. So they weren't dreams. I want to make that clear."

Gothi's eyes had widened some, which meant she was extremely interested. She beckoned for Astrid to continue.

Astrid fingered the handle of her mug.

"The visions were of Hiccup. All of them, and they were all basically the same. I had a total of five, I think. But I had better explain what they were of. First off, Hiccup was a lot older in all of them. I mean, he was so changed I almost couldn't recognize him. He had the freckles, the hair, all of it, but he looked at least twenty and he had scars – battle scars, on his face. New ones. And he was muscular. So much stronger. And his eyes – they looked sinister."

Astrid paused, and tried her tea again. Gothi, still enraptured by the story, wrote with her finger on the dusty table. Gobber leaned down to look at it, and Astrid put her cup down.

"She asks," Gobber read, "If Hiccup's egg leg – OW!" Gothi hit him with her hand. "Sorry. If his PEG leg was made better than it was."

Astrid frowned. That was a good question! Closing her eyes, she thought back to the visions. Hiccup sitting on Toothless, his red and black helmet, the scaled armor, and his leg…

"My GOD!" Astrid wrenched her eyes open. "He didn't have a peg leg! No! In all these visions, he had NO peg leg. His leg was whole!"

Gothi looked astonished. Astrid herself was startled. She kicked herself inwardly. How had she not noticed that before!

Gothi gestured to go on.

"Right." Astrid took a breath. "There were other odd things, too – for instance, Toothless was bigger. A lot bigger. And I would be wearing a helmet in the visions. I never wear a helmet. But anyway, every vision was almost the same."

Astrid told Gothi and Gobber what the visions had been of. How Hiccup was fighting with a dragon army, Fishlegs being there, how Hiccup and Toothless attacked an abyss, and how they had been shot down and cut to pieces by flying blades. How he fell into the abyss, every time, right in front of her.

When she finished, the room was utterly silent. Only the crackling of the flames remained.

"I can't save him," Astrid said. "I couldn't save him in any of the visions, no matter how hard I tried. That's what made me feel the worst. And poor Toothless got destroyed. It was so unnerving, and it makes no sense at all. And after Hiccup died, the visions ended. Can you explain it, Gothi?"

Gothi was quiet. She said nothing and wrote nothing. However, Gobber cleared his throat.

"The flyin blades, Astrid," he said. "What'd they look like?"

Astrid raised an eyebrow. "Umm, basically just a lot of blades spinning in different directions," she said slowly. "Why do you ask?"

"Ehh, well," Gobber frowned, scratching his beard, "A couple years back, when we were still fightin the dragons, Hiccup designed a dragon-killin weapon. He called it 'The Mutilator.'"

"Dear Thor," Astrid whispered. "That's right! The Mutilator! Oh, what did he say…. Basically it uses internal calibration to launch crisscrossing blades in three different directions."

Gobber stared. "How did ye know about that one, lass?"

"One day in the Forge," Astrid said. "He – Hiccup - was sharpening my axe and I snooped around a bit. I found the design for the Mutilator, and he explained what it did.* My God. I think what I saw in my visions looked exactly like that."

"Very interesting," Gobber commented.

Gothi took a big breath and then exhaled. She dipped her finger in the dust once more and wrote. Gobber once more leaned over to look at the writing.

"She says," he began, "that if not for a few things she would say it was probably a prison – OW! No, a vision - of the future. One, Hiccup is dead, and two, he somehow regrew a leg."

Astrid sighed. "I suppose that's right. I don't think it's from the future either. So what can it be?"

Gothi wrote again, this time for a long time. When she finally finished Gobber read it.

"She says that it's possibly a representation. Of Hiccup's death. For example, point one. What he was doing when he died. He was leading an army of dragons, and Fishlegs was helping him. That could have been a representation of the Dragon training and convincing others of their quality. The battle scars go along with that – he had done this before.

"Point two. He wasn't expecting it. They used a weapon that he invented to kill him. She doesn't know how he died, so that may have been a thing.

"Point three. Toothless died first. The bog Burglars killed both of them, and they would have done it that way, killing the dragon before the rider.

"Point four. There are a thousand other things that could be taken as parallels."

Gobber paused and then kept reading. "However, there are other things that don't make too much sense in that regard. For instance, why an Abyss? It has no meaning other than that an Abyss is a gateway to Helheim in legend."

Astrid was staring. "So the visions were warning me, essentially, that Hiccup was about to die!?"

Gothi shrugged and wrote again.

"She says possibly," Gobber stated. "It might have been. In fact, she says it's likely. Didn't they stop right after he died?"

Astrid froze. "Yes," she whispered.

Gothi nodded.

"Oh NO," Astrid gasped. She buried her face in her hands. "NO! It was warning me, the WHOLE time! Why did I let him go! Oh, no, no, no…." She burst into a fit of crying, her shoulders shaking and her face buried in her palms.

She didn't notice Gobber leaving.

High Asgard, Day 13 since Hiccup's Departure

Hiccup had so much free time he didn't know what to do with it. The first thing he wanted to do was see Aiah, but he had no idea where to find her. In fact, in the labyrinth of golden hallways and marble walls, he had no idea where anything was. But he did know where he could discover any information that he wanted.

The third cell in the deepest dungeons. The one that held Loki.

So, with that destination in mind, Hiccup descended the steps of the towers into the dungeons for the second time in two hours.

Loki was clearly surprised to see Hiccup back so soon. However, he was not unhappy. When Hiccup was granted access to Loki's cell, he smiled and greeted Hiccup cheerily.

"Well well well," Loki grinned. "Look who's passed his test early."

"You bet I did," Hiccup grinned, walking up to sit across from Loki at the table once more. "It was easy. I created a device so deadly that Asgeirr was scared out of his mind. He's discussing the significance of the invention to the Council right now. Impressive, huh?"

"Very." Loki was wide-eyed. "What was the item?"

"It was a bomb," Hiccup replied. "I'm not revealing how to make it, I'm not allowed to, but it's pretty damn awesome. I almost killed me and Asgeirr with it when I tested it."

"Killing Asgeirr would have been a job well done," Loki laughed. "But losing you, however, is another story. It would have been a shame to lose a mind like your own. Speaking of which, did you have time to consider my lesson from this morning?"

Hiccup leaned back in his chair slowly.

"A little bit," he said. "I know your argument is flawed, but I can't exactly pinpoint why. However, let me try."

"Do so. I am interested in your response." Loki closed his eyes.

Hiccup leaned forward, tapping his finger on the small table that sat between the two green-eyed men.

"It's the spirit of the battle that defines the value of losses," he said. "Our chess game we just played was irrelevant. But in a real battle things reach the true moral heights. It comes down to the utmost essentials of the war, that is, who is right and who is wrong."

Hiccup paused for effect. "For the right cause, all life is worth giving away," he continued. "All life, a Pawn or a Knight, it doesn't matter. It DOES matter, however if one fights to win for the good of many. First, the death of men cannot affect the true purpose of that battle. The sole purpose of the conflict is for good to prevail. In order for that to happen, tough and difficult decisions must be made. For instance, I must send the Pawns in to die because they are expendable. Their lives are worth as much as the Knights in a moral approach, but killing a Knight instead of a Pawn would not for the cause of good. Killing a Pawn will benefit the true good better than killing a Knight."

Hiccup paused, and then concluded.

"It is the morality of the fight that allows for the right choices, harsh as they may be."

Loki sat very still.

"Very well," he said slowly. "As long as you are on the morally correct side of that battle. What if you are not?"

"Then I have no business leading that army." Hiccup replied.

Loki nodded. "All right. You make an interesting point. I will think on it at length. However, let us not waste your free time arguing. You came down here to enjoy yourself, not to debate. Did you want something from me?"

"Sure," Hiccup smiled. "You promised me the tale of Captain Kaldr and his dragon, Brenakir. I was intrigued by the story of Zyon, but he is my enemy. Now I want to know the story of a friend."

Loki grinned. "A friend? Choose your friends wisely."

Hiccup shrugged. "He's an elf. Kaldr, that is. In Viking tales the elves are tall, fair, clean, regal, and good. Is that correct?"

Loki chuckled. "Not exactly. Get comfortable, Vaskar, for this may take a while. This is the story of Kaldr, the elvish Captain."

Hiccup smiled and got comfortable.

"Long ago," Loki began, "On Alfhiem, there was an infestation of goblins. They appeared in the mountains and caused no end of trouble for the elves. A once peaceful culture that the elves possessed and cherished was dissolved and a tougher, harder version of the elf appeared over the years. War began to become a part of the elvish culture.

"It was at this time that Kaldr was born. I do not know much of his first few years, but what I do know that his family was poor. They lived as peasants outside the city, and when the Goblins arrived, Kaldr's home was attacked. His mother and father were killed. Kaldr, a boy of thirteen at the time, vowed revenge. He became a hunter. For four years the Goblins told stories of a wraith-like boy that swooped through the trees and danced across the snow, sniping down Goblins with a bow and arrow. Kaldr was feared before he ever even put on elvish armor."

Loki paused to take a drink from a glass of wine that was on the table. He then continued.

"Kaldr was 17, trekking across a high mountain, when he found an egg. A dragon egg. It was the egg of an Alpha, but Kaldr was young and did not know that. The only thing he knew was that it was in fact a dragon egg of some kind. Dragons were incredibly rare on Alfheim. In fact, they still are. So Kaldr, in his loyal sense of service to his country, brought the egg to the nearest city, which happened to be the capital."

Loki chuckled. "This part of the story is hazy, but I have studied the records and I believe it is true. When Kaldr went to give the egg to the elvish authorities, he was not exactly received well at the gates. He was rejected by the guards, they called him names, beat him, and threw him in the dirt. But at that moment the Prince of Alfheim rode by. He saw the mistreatment of Kaldr and was enraged. He helped Kaldr to his feet himself, and Kaldr, after realizing who the prince was, gave him the egg. The prince was stunned. He made Kaldr accompany him back to the castle, and the prince kept Kaldr there. The egg hatched a week later in Kaldr's arms. The dragon immediately bonded with Kaldr."

Loki smiled. "You would not believe the rejoicing that occurred in Alfheim. The elves had been dreaming of a rider for centuries. When Brenakir began to come of size, a debate occurred, trying to decide how to train Kaldr and Brenakir, especially since they were now being attacked by large forces of Goblins. After a discussion, they decided to send Kaldr here, to Asgard, so that he would be the elf that was prophesied to train with Asgeirr. Kaldr was sent, and underwent the same brutality that you did."

Hiccup was gripping his chair arms, and Loki went on. "Kaldr was already a mean elf, his years of hardship had done that, but even so, the training nearly killed him. Elves are happy, jovial, and friendly. Kaldr had those traits and the sheer disgusting savagery and brutality that he endured was almost too much for him. After he beat the Cobra, his version of the Wolf, he was so mentally disturbed that he spent two weeks revolving in and out of insanity. When he recovered, he was not the same."

"Is he crazy?" Hiccup asked.

"Oh, no!" Loki laughed. "No. I just mean that he acted nothing like the normal elf anymore. When the prince of Alfhiem came to check on him after he recovered, he was horrified. He learned what had happened to Kaldr, was enraged, and almost declared war because of the mistreatment. But Odin was unmoved, and no conflict ever occurred. Kaldr excelled at all the warlike aspects of the training, and he passed the intelligence tests with fair ease. To close it off, he finished with a masterful final examination. He was made Captain of Alfheim."

Loki sighed. "After that, it was all glory for Kaldr and Brenakir. The first thing they did was defeat the Giant Riders. After that mighty deed, Alfhiem hailed him as a hero and their savior. They insisted on his marrying so that they could preserve his 'majestic' bloodline."

"Did he marry?" Hiccup was interested.

"No, actually, he did not," Loki laughed. "In fact, that is a funny story. Kaldr did not like the elves imposing a marriage on him. He wanted to be sure he would be happy with his wife – after all, elves live forever if they are not killed. So the King of Alfheim made a deal with him. All the elvish maidens in the land would come to the Great Castle, and Kaldr would toss up his sword. The sword was magically enchanted to fly to the girl that Kaldr would love."

Loki grinned. "It was a big event. I was actually there for it. Elvish fanfare is quite the show. Anyhow, Kaldr, at the height of the drama, stepped up and tossed his sword above a crowd of thousands of elvish girls. But -" Loki laughed, "It didn't come down again. It flew right through the ceiling and vanished into the sky. Kaldr's sword had been shipped to another world. No one knows where."

Loki burst out laughing. "My goodness, was Alfheim embarrassed. Not only would Kaldr not love any of their own kind, but they had lost his marvelous sword! So they made him a new one which was even finer than the first, but of the same make."

Hiccup was laughing too. "And Kaldr never saw his old sword again?"

Loki shrugged. "When he does, he will see the love of his life, if the magic was true. I am wondering when that will occur. I mean, he can potentially live forever, and if the chosen one was not an elf, she may not even be born yet. Regardless, I much enjoyed that hilarity."

"I'm sure." Hiccup frowned. "This was a cool story, but I don't understand one thing, Loki. Why did Odin agree to train him for nothing?"

Loki guffawed. "For nothing? Trust me, Odin is not as generous as that. He certainly made a request. Kaldr has to come and fight for the Aesir whenever the Captain of Asgard calls."

Hiccup sat up with a jolt. "What? I will be the Captain of Asgard, if I pass this infernal training."

Loki smiled. "Yes, you will. And Kaldr will be at your service."

Hiccup gawked. "What?"

"Captain Kaldr will be yours to command."

Hiccup stared. "How important am I?" he whispered.

"The entire fate of your world rests on your shoulders, Hiccup." Loki reached across the table and gripped Hiccup's shoulder. He leaned forward.

"I know it feels oppressive," he whispered. "The burden of responsibility weighs upon you. The pressure. The need. You feel afraid. Don't you?"

Hiccup didn't say anything.

"You are afraid." Loki stated it. He wasn't gloating and he wasn't sympathetic: it was merely a statement. "It is perfectly natural for you to be afraid. After all, who would not be fearful if the fate of everything he knew and loved rested on his quality and his skill?" Loki leaned in even closer. "Everything you love, Vaskar. Your father. Your tribe. Astrid. They all depend on YOU."

Hiccup looked up. "Are you trying to make me feel even more unsure of myself, Loki?" He asked. "If so, congratulations. You've done a good job."

"No!" Loki leaned back in his chair. "No, Vaskar. I know how damaging a lack of encouragement and support can be. I experienced it all myself, and I have no intention, accidental or not, of making you go through the same things I did. No. I was trying to tell you that you are important, Hiccup. Even more important than you could possibly imagine. Odin and Asgeirr have desperately tried to keep it from you. They have bullied you and badgered you beyond reason. Odin has called you trash and Asgeirr mocks you – it is his job. But both of them share contempt for you. They fear you."

"Why?" Hiccup was utterly absorbed.

"Because you are not a normal man, Vaskar." Loki was quiet. "No one, no one alive should be as smart as you are. No mere mortal could have done the things you have already accomplished. You defeated your fears, your horrors, in the form of an invincible Wolf-man, in mere days, as a cripple. You are growing muscle and strength at an astonishing rate of speed. You are naturally gifted at battle, and you are moving faster through your training not because time is running out, as Asgeirr lied and told you, but rather because you CAN. You are skipping the first part of the training because you are so good you don't NEED it."

Hiccup was staring. "I'm not normal? Loki, I'm just a regular human. I'm no elf. I'm no Aesir legend. I'm just a – a hiccup."

Loki smiled. "You are greater than you know. And you are no mere human. There is an air about you, a magnitude of spirit. I do not know how this could be, but you are different. I know it. Odin knows it. Asgeirr knows it. A little hiccup can change the course of history."

Hiccup opened his mouth to reply, but he was interrupted. The door to the prison opened, and Asgeirr appeared.

Loki and Hiccup rose, and Loki spoke. "Good afternoon, Warlock."

Asgeirr stiffened. He did not return the greeting. Instead he shifted his attention to Hiccup.

"Riddari."

"Yeah, Asgeirr?" Hiccup was grinning. "Have you been to the council? Am I to be executed for making that bomb?"

"No." Asgeirr was not amused with Hiccup's joke. "The council wants you to brief them on the bomb, but not now. There is a slightly more serious matter to attend to."

Hiccup cocked an eyebrow. "What can be more serious then speaking to five Council Gods?"

"Speaking to the Goddess Freyja."

Hiccup's jaw dropped, and Loki made a noise.

"Is this a joke?" Hiccup demanded. "Freyja? You mean Toothless' mother?"

Asgeirr's jaw worked. "Yes. She has demanded to see you."

"What for?"

"That I do not know. I am not a God, I am not privy to their decisions. I will not even be with you when you go to see her."

"Where do I need to go?" Hiccup was staring.

"Follow me, Riddari." Asgeirr turned and walked out.

Hiccup turned and shook hands with Loki.

"Well, I'm sorry that got interrupted," Hiccup said. "I was enjoying the conversation. If I have time later today I will come back. By the way, do you know where Odin's Little Seer lives? Where can I find her?"

Loki shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Vaskar, I have no idea. Being a prisoner does not exactly keep you up to date on where people are."

"Right." Hiccup grinned.

"So, what would you like to hear about next time you speak with me?" Loki asked.

Hiccup scratched his head. "Ooh. Well, let's talk about the prophecy. The one that says I am to save the world. It always made me feel odd that we're trusting a single prophecy."

"Very well." Loki smiled. "I will do a little research on that prophecy, and if you come back we will discuss it."

"Sounds good to me." Hiccup saluted jokingly. "Catch you later, Loki."

"And you, Vaskar."

Hiccup turned and left. Asgeirr was waiting for him in the hall. As Hiccup passed through the door, it boomed shut and an energy barrier stiffened over it. Hiccup turned to Asgeirr.

"All right, Asgeirr," he said. "What in the name of Thor is going on?"

Asgeirr sighed. "I do not know, Riddari. I went to explain to the Council of your invention, and they considered it for a few minutes and then informed me that you needed to be taken to see Freyja. I do not know why or what for. I am merely under orders to escort you to someone who does. Let's go."

Asgeirr did not say a word for the entire walk up from the deep prison, despite Hiccup's constant pressing for information. When they finally emerged from the dungeons into the normal halls, Asgeirr took a sharp turn and entered a hidden passageway.

"Wow," Hiccup breathed. "This is cool. Where am I going, Asgeirr? Who am I seeing?"

Asgeirr did not answer, but instead came to a door, opened it, and gestured Hiccup in. Hiccup, his hand sliding to Hicca on his back warily, stepped into the room. Asgeirr closed the door behind him, and now he was alone. Alone with someone else. A giant man with a Viking helmet and flowing golden hair was standing by the wall, his back to Hiccup. As the door closed, the giant man turned.

Hiccup gasped and dropped to one knee. It was Thor.

"Oh, bah, get up!" Thor laughed. "Come on, Hiccup, you know better than to kneel to me. God I am, but I will not be revered like one, or at least, not by you. Get up."

Hiccup obeyed and rose. Lifting his eyes, he met those of the giant God. Thor walked towards him and stopped a mere two feet away.

"You're stronger," Thor commented, running his golden eyes up and down Hiccup. "Been kicking some ass down there in Ragnarok?"

Hiccup grinned. "A little bit. It's been a while since I last saw you, Thor."

"It has been. Around a week or more. How has the training been treating you?"

"Like shit." Hiccup was grinning. "Asgeirr isn't taking things easy on me, that's for sure."

"Ahh, well, you know what they say, they pick on the best," Thor chuckled.

"Oh really?" Hiccup laughed. "Do they pick onyou?"

Thor joined in the laugh. "No, not exactly," he chuckled. "Being a God has that effect, doesn't it? But hey, being a hero is a very good thing. The girls love it." He winked at Hiccup.

"I bet." Hiccup was astounded at Thor's attitude. "You know, your brother Loki joked to me the other day about your girlfriend count. Are you in the fifties or sixties?"

"Eighties," Thor laughed. "Loki has fallen behind since he saw me last."

"And when was that?" Hiccup asked, chuckling.

Thor sighed. "Too long ago. Every time I go to see him I can only think of what he was back in the Asgardian War. I see him one more time, standing in his black snake-scale battle armor, standing above his legions of ghouls and evildoers, and Lord Zyon flying above them."

Thor was speaking so quietly now he was whispering.

"I never gave up on Loki, you know. He was my brother. I always thought he had some good in him, until he led that army to the city gates. In that moment, I knew he was lost."

Hiccup nodded. "He is lost, Thor. But there is a chance he can find the right path once more, I think."

Thor sighed. "I often feel guilty for being the cause of Loki's downfall. He was – I hesitate to say jealous, because he was not. He was right when he said that he was not appreciated by my Father, or even me. But I am a man with one mind. Loki is too smart for me. We never got along well."

Thor stopped, and then cleared his throat. "Oh well. Forget Loki. We have somewhere to go, Hiccup Rider."

"To see Freyja, Asgeirr said," Hiccup stated. "He also said you could tell me why. I am frankly astonished at this. Why does Freyja want to see me? She is the Goddess of Death. I don't want to see her until I am dead, that's for sure."

"You shouldn't," Thor said. "But she has to lay eyes on you."

"What for?"

Thor met Hiccup's eyes. "Because she needs to make sure you arenotdead."

Hiccup stared. "Why would she think I am dead?"

Thor sighed. "Every time a Viking Funeral ship is burned, Freyja sees the smoke, knows whom it is for, and finds the soul to escort it to Valhalla. You had a ship burned for you, but she did not find your soul on Midgard. That raises complications. She must -"

"They burned a ship for me!?" Hiccup was horrified. "Dear GOD! They think I'm dead! Dad thinks I'm dead! The whole tribe thinks I'm dead?! Astrid thinks -" Hiccup froze, and his hand went to touch the Nadder scale around his neck. "Oh NO."

Thor nodded grimly. "They all believe you to be dead, Hiccup."

Hiccup fell to his knees. "No," he whispered. "They can't. I'm not dead! I'm not! What if they – what if Astrid – what if she -" Hiccup looked up at Thor. "They HAVE to know I am still alive," he pleaded. "Send them a message, anything. Let Astrid know I'm not dead."

Thor grimaced. "The Council debated that point already," he said. "And they reached the conclusion that a message shall NOT be sent."

"NO!" Hiccup leapt to his feet. "Why? Damn the Council! Where are they! I'll kill them!"

Thor sighed. He reached forward and laid his hand on Hiccup's shoulder.

"Odin and the Council feel that if we send a message to Midgard, things will become chaotic. The only way for the message to even be able to fully convince anyone would be to physically send a being there by BiFrost, which takes energy that can be better used for other things."

"That's yakshit!" Hiccup was enraged. "You don't get it, do you? They think I'm dead – that means that they probably think the Bog Burglars killed me! War will break out! People will die! Maybe they already have! Are the Gods too important and stuck up to save lives?"

Thor sighed. "I know. If it was my decision, Hiccup, I WOULD send a message. But unfortunately, it is not. It is the Council's, and they have decided against it. I'm sorry."

Hiccup sighed. Thor went on.

"However, you may have a chance to send one after all, although not conclusive. You may be able to convince Freyja to send a message. However, I must warn you about Freyja."

Thor leaned close. "Freyja is a MOST unhappy person," he said. "She hates everything that moves, everything that is happy. Do you know her history?"

Hiccup nodded. "Yes. You told me. She gave birth to a demon by the Thunderbird. The God Lofn cursed it – the child became Toothless and the Hydra."

Thor nodded. "But she does not know that."

Hiccup stared. "What?"

"She does not know she has two sons."

"Why not!" Hiccup asked. "She, of all people, has a right to know! Why did no one ever tell her?!"

"Because Freyja hates dragons with every fiber in her body!" Thor shouted. "Dragons are her very enemy! She hates dragons with such a passion that if she sees one she kills it immediately. She has banned all dragons from entering Valhalla when they die."

Hiccup gaped. "What!? The dragons are alive! They have souls! How can Freyja not let them into Valhalla?"

"Because she won't," Thor stated. "She knows that the creature she gave birth to – the one that Freyr killed – was a dragon of sorts, and she hated them from that moment on. So she refused to let them into Valhalla."

"So – If Toothless dies," Hiccup stared, "He will NOT go to Valhalla?"

"No." Thor was sad. "He will go to an uninhabited wasteland – not Helheim, but an equally devastating area."

Hiccup stood with his mouth open, absolutely enraged.

"I'll kill her!" he shouted. "I'll cut her Hel-damned head off! Dragons are not evil! They are in many ways better than humans are! Take me to her! I will murder her!"

"NO!" Thor boomed. He stepped forward and seized Hiccup's collar. "Fool! You think you can stand against Freyja, the Goddess of Death? She governs the dead. She is all-powerful and terrifying. You stand no chance against her! Forget this nonsense! We have been trying to alter her decision to let dragons into Valhalla, and we are succeeding! Having you rant and try to kill her over it will abolish all of our chances! Do you understand?"

Hiccup tore Thor's arm away from his collar.

"Yes." His voice was icy. "I do understand."

"So it is important," Thor said, more calmly, "to keep her unaware that she is the mother of Toothless and the Hydra. When you go in there, you will not speak unless spoken too, you will keep your temper, look wise, and say NOTHING at all until you have to. If you can try to convince her to send a message back to Midgard, do so, but TACTFULLY. Is that clear?"

Hiccup sighed. "Yes. I will do that."

"Good." Thor clapped Hiccup on the shoulder. "Great. Now you will get to do what no other mortal man has done before. You shall walk into Valhalla and out again."

Berk, Day 13 Since Hiccup's Departure

Astrid was utterly broken down when she left Gothi's hut. Nothing could have possibly pained her more than knowing that if she had only taken the visions as warning, Hiccup might not have died. Her eyes were red from crying, and she walked down the main street of Berk with her head down. No one spoke to her, until a voice came at her from the side. It was Snotlout Jorgenson.

"Crying a few tears for your dead boyfriend?" he chuckled. "Ahh, you'll get over it. Soon you'll see who the real Viking is. Me, Snotlout."

Astrid stopped in her tracks and turned. She reached for her axe, her eyes blazing. And she would have killed Snotlout on the spot if she hadn't been interrupted.

"Hey!" It was Tuffnut, his voice coming from somewhere behind Astrid. "You, Snotface! Shut up! Are you saying Hiccup wasn't a real Viking!? By the Gods, he was a better Viking than ALL of us! He was kicking the Red Death's ass while we were standing around holding our dicks! By the Gods, say that again! I'll kick your Snotty rear end!"

Snotlout leapt to his feet as Tuffnut shouldered Astrid out of the way. Astrid stumbled and almost fell. Tuffnut was livid.

"I'll say that again!" Snotlout roared. "Who do you think you are, you little skinny maggot?! How dare you insult the future chief of Berk!?"

"If you're ever MY chief I'll go fight for the Bog Burglars!" Tuffnut yelled. "That's how much respect I have for you! Holy Thor, take that back about Hiccup or I'll fight you right here!"

A crowd was gathering. Tuffnut and Snotlout were standing in the middle of the muddy street, staring at each other. Snotlout was leering from his taller and bigger frame, but Tuffnut, smaller and thinner, was glaring savagely right back at him.

"I challenge you, Tuffnut Thorston," Snotlout spat. "I'll destroy you, and you'll admit I'm a better Viking than Hiccup was. Got it?"

"I'll never admit that."

"Then you accept my challenge?"

"I do!"

"A fight!" Someone yelled. In a twinkling a huge crowd of Vikings appeared. Astrid was standing right next to the two boys, and she was staring. Tuffnut was acting meaner than she had ever seen before, and Snotlout was even being more of an ass than usual.

A huge hand grabbed Astrid's shoulder and moved her away from the two boys. Turning, Astrid looked up and saw the Bashem Island heiress, Bashhead.

"Better stick away from those two," Bashhead rumbled, throwing a thick arm over Astrid's shoulder. "They're about to kill each other."

Astrid had never seen a girl as enormous as Bashhead. She had a long brown hair under a huge helmet with a human skull attached to the top. However, despite her ferocious appearance, she had very pleasant eyes.

Snotlout was talking. "Swords or fists, slime bucket?"

Tuffnut laughed. "Fists!"

"FISTS!" Snotlout roared. The crowd of Vikings thundered their approval. Astrid saw Fishlegs and Thuggory push their way to the front of the crowd. They were together – they had been talking. That was interesting. Then Astrid saw Mogadon towering over the group. It looked like this fight was going to have quite the audience.

Snotlout and Tuffnut were unstrapping their weapons. It was to be an all-fists and muscle fight. No weapons allowed.

"The skinny boy doesn't have a chance," Bashhead told Astrid, her arm still draped across Astrid's shoulders. "He shouldn't have chosen fists. Snotlout is heavier than he is, and if he gets on top of the skinny boy, he is doomed. Who is the skinny boy, anyway? He's got balls – for a man."

Astrid managed a smile. "He's Tuffnut Thorston," she replied. "He's crazy."

"He's badass." Bashhead grinned. "I like a man who picks a fight he can't win – it shows he defends what he thinks is right."

"True," Astrid admitted.

Snotlout, with the crowd of Vikings cheering, turned and handed his sword and axe to a bystander. Tuffnut twirled his spear off his back and turned and handed it to his sister. Ruffnut took the spear and whispered fiercely at him.

"You're an idiot, Tuff! You'll get killed by him!"

"I know." Tuffnut was calm. "But I don't care. I'm sure as fire gonna try. I'll be back soon, Ruff."

"Don't get killed. No one would be there to ride Belch with me."

"I'll try." Tuffnut turned back to the middle of the circle.

Snotlout came to the center of attention, and with a fist pump, stripped off his shirt. The crowd cheered, but Astrid sneered with disgust. He was muscular, but also fat. Like most Vikings. And his hairy, beefy chest was disgusting.

Tuffnut, laughing like a maniac, took off his shirt too, and got jeered. He was skinny and looked frail. However, Bashhead nodded approvingly.

"He's wiry. A strong but skinny one. Like my father."

"He's still going to lose, though," Astrid cursed. "And Snotlout will win! Curse it, I should have fought him instead."

"You'd win all right." Bashhead chuckled. "I've heard about you. Astrid Hofferson, the best warrior Vikingdom has ever seen. That's you, right?"

"Not quite true," Astrid said, blushing with the praise. "I mean, the best warriors don't cry, do they? Look at me."

"Bosh!" Bashhead laughed. "All the best warriors cry. It's what helps make them the best."

Astrid smiled, but then her attention was turned back to the ring. Tuffnut and Snotlout, shirts off and fists raised, were circling one another.

"If you want to admit that I'm a better Viking than Hiccup now, you can do so, and save yourself a thrashing," Snotlout bragged.

"No." Tuffnut had a crazy grin on. "I think not. In fact, take THAT!"

He whipped his right fist forward and caught Snotlout right on the jaw. The crowd roared in amazement as Snotlout reeled in pain, backing up a step.

In a second Tuffnut was on him. He fired punch after punch at Snotlout, hammering him haphazardly with both fists. Snotlout, covering his face, was being beaten back.

"Oh my Thor!" Bashhead was cheering. "He's fighting like a wildcat! Tuffnut! Tuffnut! TUFFNUT!"

However, right after Bashhead cheered, Tuffnut got unlucky. He stepped in a big spot of mud and lost his balance. He fell flat on his back with a splat.

Snotlout, blinking away the pain, saw his chance. He leapt on top of the fallen Tuffnut, pinning him with his knees and sitting on top of him. Tuffnut tried to wriggle free, but Snotlout was too heavy. Tuffnut was helpless.

Grinning triumphantly, Snotlout raised his fist. He slugged Tuffnut in the face, once, twice, three times. Tuffnut's arms were pinned and he could do nothing to resist. Astrid bit her lip in rage as Snotlout kept brutally hammering the smaller boy. Then he stopped, and sat back.

Astrid nearly lost control at seeing Tuffnut's face. It was bruised black and purple, his nose was bleeding like a fountain, and his lips and teeth were smashed into one another. But he was still conscious.

"Do you admit that I am a better Viking than Hiccup?" Snotlout asked gleefully.

Tuffnut laughed. It was the most eerie and unnerving sound Astrid had ever heard. He was cackling like a demon.

"No!" he screamed. "Hiccup was awesome! You are NOT!"

Snotlout punched Tuffnut again. And again. And again. Snotlout kept raining powerful blows down on Tuffnut's face. Astrid was expecting the boy to lose consciousness at any time, but he never did. After about twenty more solid thumps, Snotlout stopped.

"Do you admit that I am a better Viking than Hiccup?!" He roared.

"Never!" Tuffnut screamed, spitting out broken teeth and blood. "You beat me, but that doesn't change the truth! Hiccup was a real Viking! You are nothing! You hear me! Nothing!"

Astrid turned her face away as Snotlout started to beat Tuffnut once more. It was sickening. Blood was running all over Tuffnut's face, his hair was filthy with mud, and he was getting beaten to death. She couldn't watch.

"Stop it!" Ruffnut screamed, from the edge of the crowd. She was crying. "Stop it! You'll kill him! Stop it!"

Snotlout, after a few more punches, stopped. "Do you admit that I am a better Viking than Hiccup?!" He screamed, for the third time.

"NO!" Tuffnut yelled. "NEVER!"

Snotlout looked sick. He didn't know what to do. If he kept hitting Tuffnut he would kill him, and he didn't have the stomach for that. But he needed to show everyone that he had won the fight. So instead he scooped up and handful of mud.

"Did I beat you!?" He yelled at Tuffnut.

"YES!" Tuffnut yelled. "But I'm not gonna say it!"

"Then eat DIRT!" Snotlout roared, and slammed the handful of mud into Tuffnut's mouth.

The crowd gasped in awe as Tuffnut gagged on the mud. Snotlout, his fists a bloody mess, got up from Tuffnut's fallen form and strode off to retrieve his weapons. There was no cheering for him. Everyone was staring at Tuffnut.

He was beaten so badly that he looked unhuman. He looked like a rotting creature. His face was bleeding all over, his skin was a combination of green and purple, and his lips were mashed flatter than a pancake. His teeth were so broken that Astrid couldn't see a whole one. And he was spitting out mud. He tried to sit up, but then his whole body shuddered and he fell, utterly limp.

"My God." Bashhead was staring, her brown eyes wide with shock. "He is dead."

Ruffnut, her face pale as death, ran into the ring. She grabbed Tuffnut's still form and shook it.

"Tuffnut!" She screamed. "Tuffnut!"

Astrid was rooted to the spot. Tuffnut was not moving. He looked like he was really and truly dead.

Then Thuggory the Meathead leapt into the circle. "Get back, everyone!" he roared. "Get back!"

He grabbed Ruffnut and threw her aside. Then he seized Tuffnut's head, opened his mouth, and, with a finger, cleared out all the mud, blood, and broken teeth. Then, to the astonishment of everyone, he bent his mouth down to Tuffnut's and breathed into it. Then he pulled up, laid his hands on Tuffnut's chest, and pushed, three times. Then he breathed in Tuffnut's mouth again and repeated. He did it again. And again. Still Tuffnut did not move.

All of a sudden Tuffnut coughed and spluttered, and the crowd of Vikings gasped.

Thuggory, ceasing his operation, pulled Tuffnut to a sitting position and pounded him on the back with a Tuffnut coughed and spat out a mess of broken teeth, blood, and dirt.

"Holy Odin," he said slowly, holding his chest. "I feel like shit."

"Tuffnut!" Ruff screamed joyfully, and tackled him with a fierce embrace. "I hate you, Tuff! Don't scare me like that, EVER!"

Tuffnut was too tired to say anything. But Thuggory got to his feet. His deep blue eyes were blazing. In two big steps he walked up to Snotlout.

"What the HEL is wrong with you!" Thuggory roared. "You almost killed one of your own tribe! What kind of an heir are you! A good chief NEVER has to fight one of his own! A chief PROTECTS his own! This man you just beat was right! You are a disgrace to Vikingdom!"

Snotlout looked both scared and angry. "No one tells me what to do!" he said.

"I DO!" Thuggory shouted. He reached out and lifted Snotlout off the ground by his neck. "Holy Thor, you are pathetic! NO! If you make me angry with you again, for ANY REASON AT ALL, I will rip you limb from limb and feed you to the gulls, you chicken-hearted, seaweed brained, limpet eating PIG!"*

He flung Snotlout to the mud, and then turned and walked back to Tuffnut. Grabbing him under the arms, he lifted Tuff to his feet.

"This," Thuggory boomed, holding Tuffnut's hand aloft, "Is a REAL Viking hero!"

"YEAH!" Bashhead roared in agreement. "TUFFNUT! TUFFNUT!"

The whole crowd then began to chant Tuffnut's name. Thuggory, aided by Ruffnut, helped Tuffnut up to Gothi's hut. He was seriously injured. However, the crowd was cheering Tuffnut.

And sending ugly looks at Snotlout.

High Asgard, Day 13 since Hiccup's Departure

Hiccup and Thor roared with laughter.

"Good one!" Thor chuckled, pounding Hiccup on the back. "You just said, 'Duh da da – we're dead?' HA HA!"

Hiccup chuckled a few more times, while wincing at the thump he got from Thor. They were walking down a red-carpeted and golden walled hallway, with armed guards flanking them. Thor acted as if he owned the place. However, he probably did. Hiccup spoke.

"Yeah. I mean, I was just making a joke out of a VERY serious situation. I mean, I thought I was dead. But then I hopped on Toothless, we went and swooped Astrid up, and spun her through the stars. She kissed me that night and the rest was history."

"Well, good for you, Master Hiccup." Thor smiled. "I've never found the perfect girl, trust me. I really don't even know what I'm looking for. She has to be pretty, feisty, and bold. Also she has to be able to surprise me. That's my kind of girl."

Hiccup grinned. "And in all of your eighty-plus girls, not one of them is good enough for you?"

"I just haven't found the one yet," Thor sighed.

"Maybe you're just too arrogant to see that these girls are all what you've been looking for."

"Well, then I'm looking for the girl that will slap me and tell me I'm too arrogant!" Thor laughed.

Hiccup laughed with him. "All right, Thor, you're hopeless. So where are we going again?"

"Step in and see!" Thor and Hiccup had arrived at a large golden gate. Thor raised his hammer and tapped on the door three times. It opened on its own, and Hiccup gasped.

He was standing in the most beautiful place he had ever seen. It was a domed room that was walled with jewels and diamonds. Light glittered and danced off of all the different angles, fleeting around the circular area in a marvelous, beautiful pattern. In the very center of the room there stood a golden globe with a large colorful spike emerging from the top. There was a silver door in the center of the globe, and a single guard, with white wings on the side of his golden helm, stood silently beside it.

Thor grinned. "Welcome to the famous and glorious chamber of the BiFrost!"

Hiccup was still standing in awe, his mouth hanging open in shock.

"A single jewel on this wall is worth more than the entire archipelago you came from," Thor announced.

Hiccup found his voice. "I never could have dreamed of seeing so much wealth in a single place."

"Well, you're not dreaming, if that's any comfort," Thor chuckled. "Come, we are to use this BiFrost to send us to the High World of Valhalla."

Hiccup nodded. "To see Freyja. All right, let's go."

Thor placed his hand on Hiccup's shoulder and the pair walked forward. Their footsteps echoed in the dome as they approached the lone sentinel that stood by the door. They came directly in front of the guard, and stopped.

"Hail, Lord Thor." The guard whispered. He spoke so quietly, but with so much authority and power that Hiccup was astounded. "How can I help you?"

Hiccup could not see the eyes of the guard behind his golden helmet. However, he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"Greetings, Lord Heimdall," Thor smiled. "We are required to use the BiFrost to send us to Valhalla. If you would."

Heimdall turned to Hiccup. "And who is this?" He still spoke in the quiet, firm tone that he had used before.

"This is the new Riddari in training, Hiccup Haddock from Midgard." Thor replied.

"Oh!" Heimdall's voice turned cold, but a hint of humor showed also. "So you are the one who has been constantly taunting and laughing at my guards?"

Hiccup blinked. "Your guards?"

"Lord Heimdall is the Captain of the Guards of Asgard," Thor explained. "He monitors and oversees the guards."

"Ah." Hiccup grinned. "Yes, Lord Heimdall, I have been teasing your guards. They never speak! I did it for fun at first, but then I did it to keep me sane while I was being tortured beyond compare. Now I am doing it for fun again."

Heimdall chuckled, a deep rumble that sounded quite merry. "Fascinating. Trust me, Riddari, they DO speak, for they have been giving me much complaint about how irritating you are. Being assigned to guard any area that the new Riddari walks by has become an unsavory task. My guards say they have often wanted to run a spear through your ugly freckled face."

"Well, all I ever asked from them was a little friendly conversation," Hiccup grumbled.

"Oh really?" Heimdall chuckled. "I beg to differ. Teaching them the alphabet, for instance?"

"Oh, pshaw!" Hiccup grinned. "But that was funny."

"I'm sure."

"Really, do they get irritated THAT much?" Hiccup asked.

"You'd be surprised," Heimdall admitted.

"Then maybe I should stop."

Heimdall shrugged. "I really do not care. It will add a little challenge to their daily duties."

"All right. Then I will keep doing it." Hiccup smiled. "And tell the ones that grabbed me after I attacked Aiah that they pack a punch."

Heimdall looked confused. "Aiah?"

"Oh, I named her that." Hiccup waved a hand. "The purple eyed girl."

"That mysterious seer?"

"Right. You know I was mad, and broke out of my room and strangled her about a week ago."

"I heard. My guards had to use their own judgement and not attack you lest you kill her." Heimdall tilted his head slightly. "If I may ask, what made you so out of control?"

"Well," Hiccup said, his mind growing dark just thinking of it, "In Ragnarok – that is the training room – they do horrible things to a person. They create demons that you have to battle with both your mind and body."

"What kind of demons?" Heimdall sounded interested.

"Well, imagine this." Hiccup tried to explain. "Take your worst fear, Lord Heimdall. What is it?"

"I fear nothing." Heimdall stated.

Hiccup stared. "Nothing?"

"Nothing."

"Everyone fears something. The elvish soldiers are terrified of Gods and Goddesses. Thor is afraid of Loki. Odin is afraid of me. Aiah is afraid of many things. Some people are even afraid of mice. Everyone has fear. You must fear SOMETHING, Lord Heimdall."

"I fear nothing."

Hiccup blinked. He turned to look at Thor. Thor only nodded.

"If there is anyone that is afraid of nothing, it is Lord Heimdall," Thor stated. "He is certainly one of a kind."

"Well then," Hiccup said to Heimdall, "You should try Ragnarok. You'd do well."

Heimdall accepted the praise with an incline of his head. "Thank you, Riddari Hiccup. However, we are wasting time. You wish to travel by BiFrost, Lord Thor?"

"That we do." Thor draped a muscular arm around Hiccup. "We must go to Valhalla. Freyja awaits us."

"So be it." Heimdall turned and placed an enormous key in the silver door of the globe. In a twinkling the door slide open, revealing a spacious purple-carpeted ball with a table in the middle. Taking a deep breath, Thor stepped in, followed by Hiccup.

The door closed behind them.