The Berserker chief and heir were stitting down for their dinner. Oswald, incessantly, smacked his food, causing Dagur's face to twitch in annoyance. "Might there be a way that you can eat without your mouth opening so often, Father?" the boy asked as politely as he could, hoping the approach would prove successful. Oswald slurped down some mead, loudly, "This is just how I eat, Dagur." he belched. The boy frowned, "It's not a birth defect, though. Just a bad habit. I don't understand why you get upset when I laugh around you, but then you get to go on letting the whole archipelago know whenever you're sitting down to a meal. And like a savage, no less." he said the last sentence under his breath.
"Because," the elder Berserker started, "I'm chief." he chuckled, "But, honestly, I might sound a bit irritating, but no one's going to be disturbed by it. That's the difference between your noise and mine. You've got an uncomforting laugh, Dagur." The boy cut into some meat with his knife, "So you've said." He ate the morcel, demonstrating how to, properly.
Deciding to change the subject, Dagur spoke again, "So, I've put together everything we need for tomorrow's trip." The chief raised his brow, "We aren't going anywhere tomorrow." "What? But tomorrow's the treaty. Are we declaring war?" the boy inquired, growing concerned. Oswald smiled, "Not in a million years. Stoick, Gobber, and Hiccup are, simply, coming here. It'll be great and I can show them all the wonderful things we have." Dagur paled, "They're coming here?" he pointed down, indicating their island. "Yes, Dagur. I didn't find it that difficult to comprehend." he said, condescendingly. The boy scowled, "I understand what you mean, but why would you invite them here? If Ansson sees Hiccup around me, he'll go after him too." "As a host, you should make sure he stays safe. That'll be your job while I'm with Stoick and Gobber." Oswald stated. Dagur grumbled and, hurriedly, finished his meal so that he could be excused.
It was almost time for the Berkian ships to arrive, "Do we have everything that you think you might want to show them?" Dagur asked, "I really don't want to have to go out for it later." he thought. "Maybe." was the response. As Oswald walked in front of him to the docks, Dagur pretending that he was choking the viking. An hour later, the ships entered the harbor and the expected trio came came down the ramp.
"Welcome to Berserker Islands, my friends." Oswald announced, jovially. "I'll give you the tour." he stated and the kids hugged. As the group walked around the island, Dagur made certain that Hiccup was in the middle and hidden from an onlooker's view. The boy tried to be inconspicuous as he eyed everything in close promixity to them. Gobber noticed this, though, and elbowed Stoick. The armourer used his eyes to gesture to the young Berserker and Stoick gave a small nod.
Their tour ended at the trading station and they returned to the chief's hut. Dagur and Hiccup went into the training area of the home while the adults spoke in the main. The Berkian eyed a drawing on the wall with knives in it, "Who's this and why do you throw blades at him?" he asked. Dagur's eyes narrowed at the drawing, "That's Ansson and I hate him. If you see him around here, do exactly as I say or imply. He's dangerous." The smaller boy nodded, timidly. Hesitantly, Hiccup began, "I noticed that you've looked kind of bruised up the last times I've seen you. Even now." Dagur, subconsciously, ran a hand over his busted lip and looked down, turning red. "Is he the reason?" the Berkian asked. Sheepishly, Dagur nodded, he then smiled, "Hey, got to get my combat training in some time. Better sooner than later." he laughed.
The adult vikings were enjoying their conversation, "You really haven't had any dragon attacks here?" Gobber questioned, "That's unbelievable!" "I kid you not, Gobber. We really haven't had attacks here. Now, on expeditions we've encountered the reptiles, but never on our island." the Berserker chief divulged. "You should thank Odin for that. They're evil beasts that don't deserve to exist." Stoick spat, bitterly. "Don't be so harsh on them, Stoick. They do what they do for some reason. We might not understand, but that's what I want to do and one of these days I might." The Berkian chief calmed, "Don't go packing your bags just yet. You still have a tribe to lead, Oswald. At least wait until Dagur's ready to lead." he suggested. The Berserker fought hard to not roll his eyes, "I'd never make it there, if I did that."
Before Stoick or Gobber could say anything more on the matter, Oswald went to a cabinet, "I forgot about the new mead that's come in. It's better than anything you've ever tried, I assure you that." Stoick waved the idea away, "We're fine. Don't go into any trouble on our account." "Yeah, Ossie. Besides, looks like your mead compartment got filled up anyway." Gobber added. Oswald looked for a space, "Dagur must have done it." he said, quietly. "Well, that was good of him." Gobber noted, missing a disgruntled, grumble coming from the other tribe's chief.
Oswald looked through a couple more things and grunted, "He's stocked up everything that I would want. All this to avoid getting sent out for an errand. Can't run from trouble, though." he thought. "Dagur," he called. The boy's head went back in annoyance as he answered, "Yes?" he inquired, in his best nice tone despite it being through gritted teeth. His father's voice was soaked in "Do this". "I forgot about the new mead that came in yesterday." "Dang it. I did too." the boy thought. "Be a good boy and go get a. barrel for us." Oswald requested. The Berserker boy sighed, "Fine."
Oswald tossed him a small bag of gold coins and Dagur started for the door, "Hold on." his father stopped him, "Take Hiccup with you. He'll make sure you get the right thing." His son gave him a pleading look, but received one of blankness. Dagur's expression changed to a frown, "Come on, Hiccup." he said, grumpily. The boys went out the door through town. The elder looked around to make sure they were not being followed. "Stay close." Hiccup was told. They sped their way to the merchants and purchased the "special" mead.
With the barrel under one arm and Hiccup to his side, Dagur could not wait to get back to their hut. The boy sensed someone behind him and he felt sick to his stomach. "Brother, go up ahead of me to the hut." he stated, calmly. Hiccup looked at him and around them. Behind, he saw a large viking that resembled the drawing he had seen, exactly. They were still moving at their fast pace, "That was a good drawing. Looks just like the guy. I don't get why Dagur wants me to leave, though. We can both go to the hut." the little boy mused.
Hiccup frowned, "No. I'm not going anywhere." Dagur glared at him, sideways, "I told you to listen before we even came out here." he whispered, harshly. "We can both get to your hut, Dagur." Hiccup protested. "No we can't. If we could-trust me-I'd be there." the Berserker insisted, "Now for the last time, go." The Berkian stayed by his side and Dagur growled. The viking behind them sped up and blocked their path.
"You have a friend, Dainty? Must've been forced to spend time with you just to be nice." Ansson said. Hiccup stood tall, "I am his friend. No one makes me hang out with him. I just want to." The large viking sneered at the two, "Pathetic. Makes sense that you would have a runt as a flunky, Dainty." Before Dagur could speak, Ansson began again, "What're you have there? Mead? That's a real viking's drink, so give it here." Dagur glowered as Ansson took a step closer. "Are ya deaf now on top of everything else? I don't much like to repeat myself. Your apology'll be accepted if you hand over the little one for fish bait."
Hiccup's eyes widened and he backed away. Ansson charged at him and he braced himself for the impact. When nothing came, he opened his eyes and saw the two Berserkers romping on the ground. Dagur had tackled Ansson, stopping him from hurting the young Berkian. In the ground wrestling, Ansson, quickly, rolled to the top position. He flipped Dagur around and brought the boy's left arm behind him, applying force to the appendage. Ansson pushed the arm in the wrong direction and it sprained. Dagur bit his lip, keeping a yell in his throat. The older viking kept pushing and stopped, but only after he heard a sickening crack.
A sound followed and Dagur realized that it was his cry of agony. Hearing his friend's pain, Hiccup snapped out of his paralysis. He knew that there was nothing he could, directly, do to help, but he ran back to the hut. The boy reached the hut and swung the entrance door open, "Dad!" he ran over to the vikings. "What's wrong, Hiccup?" Stoick rose from his chair, "Where's Dagur?" the chief asked, anxiety rising in his voice. "There's this big viking that tried to attack me and he stopped him. They're fighting right now, but the other guy's too strong and is winning." Hiccup replied. Gobber stood and looked at Oswald, expecting concern.
There was no emotion in the Berserker chief's visage, "Don't worry yourself, lad. He'll be fine. This isn't an uncommon occurrence for him." Oswald turned to the adults, "Hiccup must be talking about that Abspum fellow." Stoick and Gobber wanted to be relieved that it was only a childish feud, but the worry in Hiccup's eyes made them feel the same. Gobber rocked on his foot and peg leg, uncomfortably, "There's never any harm in just seeing what's going on, eh? Make sure nothing gets out of hand." His friend, hurriedly, nodded, "Stay here, though, son. The three-," he saw Oswald's indifference, "two of us will go make sure Dagur's all right."
As Hiccup went for help, Ansson pulled Dagur up by his, newly, broken arm. He grabbed the boy's headband and brought it down over his face to his neck. Pulling it tight, he began to choke the little Berserker. Dagur attempted to pry the band from his throat, but was unable. Ansson released him and kicked him in the back, knocking him into a builing's wall. The viking went over and used that to his advantage, punching the boy in the stomach and face. Dagur dodged a kick to the head and threw a dagger at the viking with his good arm. Ansson maneuvered around it and got him with a bolas, tying Dagur's arms to him.
The viking took hold of the boy by his hurt arm and dragged him to the coast. The two went out into the sea. Dagur struggled to free himself from the rough grip. When deeming that they were in deep enough, Ansson grabbed Dagur's braid and dunked his head into the water. The Berserker fought and squirmed, kicking his legs. He made contact with the viking and the grasp was lost. Dagur began to swim away, quickly, but only able to use his lower half. Unfortunately, Ansson was an excellent swimmer and caught the boy by his foot, "Doesn't work of you leave, Dainty." The viking pulled him closer to him and whispered in his ear, "Know what attracts sharks even faster?"
Dagur felt as though a dragon had dug its fangs into his leg and tore out a chunk of flesh. Ansson had brought out his blade and slashed the boy's right thigh. Dagur yelled in pain and was pushed even further into the water. He managed to push himself up and out long enough to speak, "If..the sharks come, won't...you die...too?" he panted, gulping as much air as time would allow. Ansson shook his head, grinning, evilly, "I'm just waiting until you're out cold. Then I'll leave the fangy fish to their free meal." He pushed him down again and Dagur doubted he could hold his breath for any longer.
Rough, yet gentle, hands brought him back to the surface and he looked around him, lethargically, "Is this Valhalla?" he wondered. The coldness from the water and pain that shot through him let him know that it was, in fact, still earth. He tried to see what happened, but his vision was blurry both from the stinging sea salt and his near unconsciousness. When he felt like he was no longer in water, he, vaguely, heard some shouting, but could not make any of it out. He strained to hear, but everything went black and mute.
The two Berkians were in a fury that exceeded speech. Gobber slugged Ansson across his face and Stoick hit him in the gut, finishing by bringing out his weapon and putting it to the viking's throat. "Ya can't kill me. Even attack me." Ansson said, arrogantly. "Want to bet on that?" Stoick raised his blade above his head. "I'm in Oswald's tribe," the viking said, hurriedly, "so only he can decide what happens to me." "The slime's got a point, Stoick." Gobber stated. The Berkian chief's arm shook as he wanted to run the viking through, but he put it back in its holder.
Stoick hit Ansson in the head with the flat part of his ax and grabbed him. Gobber, gingerly, picked up Dagur and the four went back to the hut. When they entered, Gobber went to a room near the wash area and placed Dagur down. Hiccup rushed over, "Is he okay?" he asked, panicking after seeing the gash on his friend. Dagur stirred and, slowly, opened his eyes. He didn't notice the others and went to clean his wounds. He was extremely groggy, but applied pressure on his thigh, stopping the blood flow. A bandage was tied to the gash and next, Dagur cleaned his arm. There was a compound fracture and he ended up tying it with a green binding, so that it could mend in place.
"You know how to do this pretty well, Dagur." Gobber commented. Dagur jumped, "Oh-uh, I-" "Do this often." Gobber finished, fuming, "You shouldn't have to, lad." The older viking walked over and checked on the boy's wounds, making sure they were taken care of, correctly. He nodded, impressed, but sad. Hiccup sat by the boy, "Thanks for protecting me." he said. Dagur nodded, "Of course." he smiled, then felt some blood in his mouth and rinsed it out. Hiccup and Gobber, then, helped the boy to his room upstairs.
Downstairs, Stoick threw Ansson's body at Oswald's feet. The Berserker chief. eyed the vikings, "Like I said. It was Apbon." Stoick's eyes widened in rage, "You have given this viking three different names. Who is he?!" he bellowed. Oswald rolled his eyes, "Ansson. If you care so much." "This is the guy who's been going after Dagur all this time?" The other chief nodded and the Berkian trembled in fury, "When you told me about this before, I thought that Dagur had a bully that was a kid. Look at him, Oswald! This is a grown man-at least, twenty years old and your son is eleven! Why are they even around each other without your supervision? He was about to die!"
"As long as Dagur," Oswald spat out the name like poison, "is out of my hair, I don't care what he does." Stoick looked hurt for the boy, "He's your son, Oswald. It's hard to understand our kids sometimes, but we still love them." "Speak for yourself, Stoick. I don't know what I did, but Odin's punishing me. How did such a peace-loving viking like myself get stuck with a crazy, violent, terror like Dagur as a...son." he struggled to say the last word. Oswald looked at Ansson, "Go back to your business. There's no punishment. If you don't go fast enough, I might adminish one for your failure."
Ansson strode out the door, "I'll do better next time." he said with a challenging look at Stoick-who almost accepted said challenge. "Chiefs protect their people and moreover parents protect their children. You're a failure as both." Stoick stated. Oswald glared, "All these times that I've gone to Berk and I've never berated any of your ethics or customs. Not even your, needlessly, violent tendencies. And here you are, doing just that to me." "I'd never give as big of a reason for scolding as you are." The two had a stand-off and Oswald broke the silence, "Vikings are a rowdy bunch. I find that they are most productive when their chief is present." he said, firmly. Stoick glared, "I'll get Hiccup and Gobber." he went to retrieve them and stopped short, "You know, Oswald, you are very caring about your status. If only you gave half as much to your son." Stoick collected the two Berkians and the ships headed back to their island.