Three more years had gone by and Dagur was still leading the Berserkers. "Sir." Herald called, coming up to him, "There's a letter from Berk." he handed him the message. "Thanks." Dagur opened the note, "To Oswald the Agreeable." the viking frowned, "We request that the peace treaty be signed within the next few days." The new chief thought, "I've been so busy that I haven't had time to suggest the peace treaty. It'll be great seeing them again." he beamed. He went down to the his hut and grabbed a piece of paper, beginning to write a response. "Better start loading up the ships. We'll be oing to Berk." he smiled, happily.
Hiccup stood with Stoick and saw as Gobber came up, "The Berserkers replied and said that they were on their way." Stoick looked pensive, "Hiccup, I think that you should put the dragons somewhere else." Hiccup raised an eyebrow, "Why? Oswald wouldn't want to kill any dragons and we can just ask Dagur not to." Stoick rested his chin in his hand, "I know, but it's been a while since we've seen them. Might not want to test the waters so soon. Word gets out about a dragon army and it could seem like we're planning an attack." Solemnly, Hiccup nodded, "All right. I'll tell the others."
Dagur stood on at the head of his ship as they sailed. Berk came into his sight and he brought out his spyglass. The Berkians looked so different than they had last time. Well, only Hiccup did, but still. As the ships pulled into the docks, Dagur's stomach was filled with butterflies. He heard as Herald announced him and the chief went down the ramp. The Berserker was met with confused expressions, but he gave Hiccup a big hug, "Brother!"
Before Dagur bombarded the three vikings with questions, Gobber spoke, "Dagur, what's this about you being chief?" The teenager released his friend and turned to the other viking, his huge smile faltering, "The Berserkers need a new leader-" "Why a new leader? Where's Oswald?" Stoick asked. "My father won't be around anymore, so someone else needs to take his place." he responded. A coldness came off of him that the three had never seen or felt before.
Dagur replaced his unreadable expression with a smile, "Let's get this treaty signed. It's past due time." The four began to go to the chief and heir's hut. As they walked, the Berserker stopped and frowned, "Where's the bottom of your leg?" he asked the thin Berkian, concerned. Hiccup chuckled, nervously, "I lost it when the Red Death attacked." Dagur, visibly, thought, "We were told about that dragon. Supposedly, you defeated it. Did you?" he inquired, interested. Stoick, subtly, gave his son a look and the boy replied, "How could I defeat him, Dagur? I probably only didn't get eaten because it couldn't see me." The Berserker looked unconvinced, but tried to believe his friend, "All right." he said, quietly.
They reached the hut and entered. Asking prior to being asked anything, Dagur started, "What's new around here? It's been forever." Hiccup thought and started, "Well, Snotlout and I are, kind of, friends now. In a complicated way, but he comes through." Dagur's eyes widened, "Really? How'd that happen?" The Berkian had forgotten about preparing for a follow up question and balked, "Um, we found something in common." Stoick intervened before Dagur could ask what that was, "Now that we're not out in the open, where's Oswald?"
Dagur's presence went cold again, "Why does that matter? He's not here; He's not chief. We could list off a whole load of things that he's not, in fact." Changing the subject, he commenced, "I've heard something interesting about your weaponry." "What's that?" Hiccup asked. "That you all are using dragons now. Like some kind of army. It's a good idea, if you can figure out how to do that." Dagur admitted. "We don't have an army of dragons. That's crazy talk." Gobber told. "Then, you wouldn't mind signing the treaty in dragon blood?" The Berserker chief questioned, skeptically. Hiccup paled, "Is that necessary?" Dagur eyed him, "It's tradition, isn't it?" "Oswald never found it to be required." Stoick interjected. Dagur kept his gaze cool, "There were a lot of things he didn't find required, but that doesn't mean he was right. Besides, it was just a question. Do you still kill dragons? I would have thought that you'd leap at the opportunity to sign in blood with a real chief."
"You're very young to be a chief at all, Dagur." Stoick stated and frowned. He saw that the viking was still using a green binding on his right arm, but there an additional part on the forearm. Dagur followed the chief's gaze and adjusted in the seat, "The longer the Berserkers have a chief, the better. It's more helpful that I start sooner than right before I'm on my deathbed."
"Care to see the armory?" Gobber asked, stopping Stoick from the glare that was beginning to form on his visage. Dagur grinned, "Always!" They went to look at the weaponry and the Berserker marvelled at the handiwork. "Gobber, my friend, you are good at what you do." he complimented, slicing the air with a sword. In the heat of the training moment, he almost threw the sword into a shield near the three. Stopping just before he did, Dagur put the weapon back. "They're really clean. No blood at all. I don't remember you guys keeping them so immaculate." "Times do change." Stoick told him. "That they do." the teenager replied, quietly.
"Perhaps, we should go to the hall for the traditional feast." Gobber suggested. They left the hut and a loud growling was heard. The vikings turned around to see nothing. "We really need to lubricate those catapults." Hiccup lied. Suspiciously, Dagur continued to walk and the Berkian chief lagged behind, "You need to get that Zippleback out of here." he whispered to Hiccup. The adolescent nodded and hurried off after the dragon. "Hiccup will meet up with us in a little bit." Stoick told Dagur. They went up to the meal area and the Berserker, subtly, took out a concealed object and put it near the entrance. "Let's see how that works." he thought.
In the dining hall, Dagur kept receiving odd looks from the Berkians and heard whispers. Breaking the eerie silence, Mulch spoke, "A toast to Oswald the Agreeable!" The other vikings at the table cheered and it took everything for the new Berserker chief not to snap. "Oswald the Cowardly." he whispered, spitefully. He glared at the yak leg on his plate and stabbed it, harshly, with his knife. "You never did stay, Che-Stoick." Dagur began, "Do you still kill dragons?" "Of course, we do. There just haven't been any attacks recently. We don't go looking for fights." Stoick informed. Dagur's brow rose, "So, if a dragon were here, we'd use it's blood to sign?" "I told you. We still kill dragons. They just aren't here now." Stoick pressed.
The meal continued on until the doors were swung open. A Hideous Zippleback ran into the building in a frenzy. Dagur smiled, broadly and drew his sword, "Looks like even the gods, themselves, want us to use a different ink for this treaty." He let out a deranged cackle, "Come on. That dragon's not going to slay itself!" Dagur rushed out of the hall to chase after the reptile, picking up the item he had left at the door. Hiccup brushed past Dagur and hurried into the hall, "Dad, it kept getting away from us and we can't find the twins!" he divulged, worriedly. Stoick looked at him, "Well, you better find them before he finds that Zippleback." The boy nodded and ran to find his friends.
Dagur thought about his troops, "I have a whole armada that could, easily, take down that dragon. Why make it simple, though? I never get to kill dragons back home, so this'll be a great opportunity to prove I can." "What do we do, Sir?" Vorg inquired. "Nothing." Dagur answered, "I'll take care of this dragon alone." He looked at their inventory and grabbed some bolas and ropes. "Could use these, though." he mentioned and scurried off to hunt.
The young Berserker tracked the sound of the Zippleback running. "Sure is a loud thing, isn't it?" he mused. The dragon came into his sight and he threw a bolas, tying the two necks together. Another bolas attached the tails, keeping them from being used as weapons. Chuckling, menacingly, Dagur walked to the two heads and sensed someone else around him. "Glad you could make it. Which head do you want?" he asked Stoick. The Berkian looked between the dragons, unsure of what to say. "Don't know? I can take the left one." Dagur offered and glanced at the other chief. "Supposed to do this together, you know." he said, in a sing-song way. Getting no response, he shrugged and began to raise his ax over his head.
As he brought down his weapon, a loud clang went through the air. Stoick's sword had blocked the younger viking's path of slashing. Rage boiled inside of the viking, "Why did you stop me?" he asked, through gritted teeth. "Because," Stoick started and spotted Hiccup put of his peripheral vision, "dragon killing is done in the arena. Wouldn't be customary to just do it anywhere for the treaty." Dagur calmed down and put back his ax. "Very well, then." He walked towards the arena and Stoick went over to his son, "I bought you some time, but you need a plan now." The chief went after the other leader, leaving the young vikings to speculate on how to solve the rising issue.
At the arena, the Zippleback had been tied to the ground and was squirming, incessantly, to get free. Dagur went up to the left head, but before he could sever anything, a Monstrous Nightmare entered the stadium. "Dragon attack!" Hiccup yelled. Dagur looked around him to see a Gronckle and Deadly Nadder arrive. "You have to leave! Stay safe." Gobber tried to convince the Berserker and covered him with his own body. "No!" the viking yelled, pulling away, "I won't just run away and hide." Dagur turned to look at the Zippleback, "You got this, Dagur. Be a chief and protect-something Dad would never do." he thought. He grabbed a spear and threw it right at one of the dragon's heads and a blast saved the reptile.
In awe, Dagur watched as a sleek, black dragon snarled at him. "A Night Fury. They haven't gone extinct." he smiled. Hiccup stepped in front of him with a shield and that was when Dagur snapped out of his trance-like state. "Brother, what are you doing? Get behind me." he told him. "I've dealt with this dragon before, Dagur." Hiccup said. Unbeknownst to the older viking, the Berkian made a hand motion to the dragon. Toothless continued to growl and had a strange look in his eyes. "That's not the command, Bud. What's going on?" Hiccup wondered.
The Night Fury's focus went behind his rider and to the Berserker. He charged and Dagur maneuvered out of the way. The viking went for a weapon, "Wait!" Hiccup called, "You'll only provoke him further." he tried to say. He did another hand motion telling the dragon to leave. Toothless shook his head to clear it and looked at his friend. Finally being able to comprehend the request, he went away.
"I guess, you were right, Hiccup." Dagur commended. "But, are you sure they won't just be back in a few minutes?" Hiccup looked after the dragons, confused, "Uh, y-yeah. They won't return for a long time. Probably should do that treaty, though, now." The chiefs went to the hall and signed the paper in normal ink. The Berserkers left on their ships and Hiccup called the dragons back to the riders. "What happened, Bud?" Hiccup asked Toothless. "Something wrong, Son?" Stoick inquired. "Not sure. Toothless wasn't responding to the hand motions like we had practiced before." The boy rubbed the dragon behind his ears.
Dagur sat in his throne at Berserker Island. "Dragon Island, General Herald. It's well-named and just what I might need." The Berserker soldier eyed him in askance. "Hiccup knew that dragon. I need to also and I'm one step closer than before." "How so, Dagur?" he was asked. Dagur pulled out something and put it on the table, "For starters, we know that Dragon Root attracts and messes with the reptiles of its namesake. Trust me, Herald, that will be very helpful in the near and far future."