Disclaimer Mini-Series, Short 3 out of 5: What? It Was Obvious!

(Clears throat) "Uh-hum. Gentlemen." (Looks around the room.) "Tell me, did any of you happen to see a disclaimer on the way here? No? Then we still have a problem."

"Oooooh, big problem. I've written plenty of disclaimers! They're a dime a dozen boring-ass courtesies. Like yours! No offence."

"If you managed to write them, I assure you they were not like mine, and nothing, nothing like the ones of the authors loose inside this website! These disclaimers have already breached our defenses. You've seen what he's done to our colleagues! And worst of all, his next one could be about any one of us. It could be you. It could be me. It could even be Rift-Raft!"


A/N: (Something about Savage being the only one not OOC)

And cheers for not-dumb!Dagur. I hope you all enjoy reading him as much as I enjoy writing him!


"We don't see things as they are, we see things as we are."


"Hooligans incoming!" Savage's annoying, raspy voice rattled me from my doze on the deck of my ship. Lucky for him it didn't have the same effect on my Skrill.

Shaking the rest of the sleep from my body, I sighed, stood up, and walked down the gangplank to the wooden boards of the wide dock. I looked out to the ocean to confirm the red, serpentine dragon on the incoming sails. "I suppose I should call my father up here, shouldn't I?" I asked, rolling my eyes before taking a better look at the ship hoisting those sails.

"I'll get him right away, sir!" Savage said, not catching the sarcasm. What a surprise.

I let out another sigh, knowing it'd be pointless to stop him. I guess, despite everything, it probably would be slightly helpful to have someone so 'agreeable' around when the other tribes arrive and get a good look out our deck. I, for one, don't see the problem with a little intimidation. In fact, I was going to hop around the island with my harnessed Skrill – you know, just for a bit of fun – but we had to be the first ones to arrive, didn't we?

Oh well, I thought, a grin crossing my lips. There's always next time.

"Stoick's here?!" I heard from below deck, followed by a lot of shuffling and a harshly opened hatch.

If there's one thing my father has that I don't hate, it's enthusiasm. Too bad he doesn't share mine when it comes to fun things. As he rushed from our deck and stood beside me in order to see the towering chief of the other tribe for himself, I couldn't find a single reason why he might be the better leader. There really is no comparison between the two; where Stoick the Vast has height and power behind his size, Father's… vastness leaves a lot to be desired. Mostly muscle.

Waving an excited hand back and forth, he called out to his ally in a loud voice that I rarely hear from him anymore. "Stoick! You made it!"

The Hooligan ship began to pull into the harbor, obviously planning to park next to ours. I suppose that's fine though. Better them than any of the other tribes, at least.

"That we have!" Stoick exclaimed, dropping the gangplank and stepping down to greet my father. "It's good to see you again!" He grasped my father's shoulder, smiling widely.

That's strange. From what I've heard, Stoick the Vast doesn't do that anymore.

The smile left his face when he turned to me.

Now that's more like it. I've always known he doesn't like me, but at least it's good to know that he's still the Hooligan chief I remember, and not some sappy suck-up who can fake a smile when he needs to.

"I see you brought your son along," he observed, just to make sure I got the message.

Hmph. Still the spoil sport. He may not be nearly as bad as my father, since he certainly isn't an awful Viking chieftain, but it's not like I care what he thinks anymore. Soon, it'll be time for a new name to be hailed across the archipelago. For now, I just shrugged and pretended not to notice.

"Yes, I followed that letter to the letter!" My father weakly chuckled before his expression fell. "I'm sorry you can't say the same, my old friend."

Stoick… laughed?

"Actually, you can."

WHAT?! My eyes shot up faster than lightning, tearing apart their deck until they found the scrawny figure in question.

Sure enough, and just as tiny and pale as usual (or maybe a little less than usual, it was hard to tell), there he was, alive and well and looking for all the world like a normal, living person. A little part of me died when I didn't see any signs of the undead, draugr rot anywhere on him, and the rest of me was at a loss for what to think after that.

Hiccup caught my stare and briefly returned it, adding a hesitant smile and wave.

My mind was drawing a blank while my father shouted in surprise. "He's alive?!"

"And right here," Hiccup drawled, probably annoyed at how my father was talking about him like he wasn't there. Keeping up with Hiccup's attitude was just about all my mind could manage while it still drew a blank everywhere else.

"But you told us he was killed by a dragon!" my father exclaimed, not catching the hint.

"Aye, that I did," Stoick replied morbidly, adopting a heavy frown and a look of depression even worse than when Father had asked him about his wife all those years ago. "I thought he was. Everyone on Berk did. Well, everyone except Gorge and the elder. They both thought he'd pull through, but I'd given up hope long before I got to your trading island."

"What happened to him?" I asked, my mind finally working again, but now completely confused about all of last year. If his son wasn't definitely dead, I don't see how Stoick the Vast could have said what he did to the Burglars. I'll have to do something to Johann if the stories don't match up.

Hiccup decided he would answer this time. "If we tell you, could you help spread the word to make it easier on us? We were going to wait for everyone else to show up."

Stoick looked back to his son and nodded. "Aye, that we were. It's difficult enough as it is to tell it once over. You mind lendin' us a hand, Oswald?"

Father laughed before clasping his shoulder. "With all the help you've been giving us lately, it'd be downright unforgivable to refuse!"

I rolled my eyes and interrupted the 'old friends' chat. "Alright, alright, just get on with it already! I want to know how he survived a Night Fury!"

I heard Hiccup give a sigh of defeat and walk over to the edge of the ship (with a limp, apparently), giving the rest of us a weak glare before staring out at the ocean. Come to think of it, I used to pretend he couldn't hear me a lot, once upon a time. Ah, those were the days.

"Patience, Dagur," my father patronized.

It took everything I had to keep my temper in check, and more. Luckily, a 'people person' taught me a few good tips on how to do it a few months back. I slowed down my breathing, counted to ten in my head, and pushed out a "fine," through gritted teeth. One of the first things I learned from my Skrill was that you sometimes have to swallow your pride to get the things that you want. A small smile of satisfaction crossed my lips when I succeeded.

Hiccup gestured at his father to continue, obviously uncomfortable about it himself – even more than Stoick, and that's saying something.

Stoick took a deep breath. "The simple answer is dragon magic," he began, pausing for a moment while Savage, who was now on the planks behind me, my father, and I all gasped in unison.

Savage recovered first. "Dragon magic? Could you be a bit more specific?"

Stoick nodded. "After my son shot that dragon down, the beast freed itself and pinned him to the ground. It fired off a few shots to keep the rest of us away, but once it started doin' what it was doin', it didn't need to keep that up. It, uh, changed Hiccup. Before we knew it, the dragon had rushed into the forest and Hiccup was… lying on the ground, not moving. You already know about what happened to T-" he paused, almost like he was catching himself from saying something. "To the Night Fury. Anyway, my son was like that for a whole year. He didn't wake up from his coma until about two months ago."

There was no filter between my mind and my voice when I realized he was already done. "That's it?!" I glanced over to Hiccup, who was looking out to the ocean in a daze. I all but leapt in triumph when I noticed the metal where his foot was supposed to be. "Then what happened to his leg?!" I asked, pointing to it.

Hiccup jumped, probably not expecting the question, before smiling and rubbing the back of his neck with a nervous chuckle.

Stoick looked at me with curiosity before responding evenly. "The beast bit it off. Probably in a fit of vengeance."

When I met his gaze with determination, I noticed that something was different about that last part. He didn't seem so… genuine with that response. The rest of his story sounded true enough, but this was too calm, too controlled, like I was talking to a very seasoned liar. I could tell he was hiding something. It's a good thing I don't take stories at face value anymore. I wouldn't be where I am today without my skepticism.

Still, I was careful not to let on that I had noticed as I pressed just a little further. "So that's it? Nothing else? That's the big secret behind the resurrected 'Viking'?"

Hiccup raised an eyebrow at the term, but the dirty, probably smelly man who had been quietly watching all the while cut in for the first time. "Are you really goin' to call that a Viking?" he asked, gesturing in a wide arc at Hiccup and chuckling.

I rolled my eyes. "There's this little thing called sarcasm, smelly old man. You should look into it."

He raised half his unibrow at me. "Now, now, I was only playin' along," he warned. After a second of looking at me with disturbingly keen eyes, he grinned, opening his mouth to add something right before Stoick cut him off.

"Don't encourage him, Dagur. I don't think Gobber needs any help with that particular subject."

Gobber's grin became a little wider. "Aww, yer makin' me blush!"

"Gobber…" Stoick warned.

His (and I'm just taking a wild guess here) closest advisor shrugged, walking down the gangplank to stand behind his chief. "Alright, alright, I'll let you get on with it."

Stoick shook his head, muttering something about not having to deal with this when 'Spitelout' is around, before turning back to us. "Anyway, that's really all there is to it."

Yeah right.

Stoick glanced at our ship before addressing my father, his expression completely solid and stubborn. "Now, I think it's only fair we ask a few questions of our own." Everything about him – his body language, the tone of his voice, the simple language – was screaming strength.

Gods, why couldn't he have been my father?

'Oswald the Agreeable' couldn't match his gaze, looking down while speaking up with an embarrassed smile. "So long as you help spread the word for us too. But if it's about what I think it is, I'm not the one you want to be talking to." He gestured in my direction, not even casting a glance back.

Gobber smiled, interrupting what his chief was about to say in reply. "Well! I didn't know you had it in you, Savage! And here I thought all those years on Outcast Island had gone to waste!"

My eyes shot over and met Gobber's which, for a brief moment, held something of a challenge in them. So, he wants to fight, does he? This half-gather might not be so bad after all.

As usual, it all went over Savage's head. "Oh, n-no, it's not me you want!"

Gobber was quick to interrupt him too. "Well who else is there? Your ship took it down all by itself, did it?" he said with a small chuckle.

Even my father laughed at this. Damn. I haven't had good competition in a while. I need to start catching up, and fast.

Savage must have pointed at me, because Gobber's face lit up in mock surprise. "Dagur?! Well I'll be! I didn't think you had it in you!"

I rolled my eyes. "That's because you don't think."

Gobber shrugged. "Most Vikings would take that as a compliment, you know."

"The stupid ones."

"Oof, you sure know how to pull your punches," he said with exaggerated sarcasm. "Did you even hear what I said?"

"Enough!" Stoick cut in, ending round one.

Gobber: 1, Dagur: 0. Damn.

"I'm going to make this very simple. What is a dragon is doing on your ship? Actually, let's start with what kind of dragon it is. It's not often that I don't recognize a dragon species, so I think we should get that out of the way first."

"I don't see what the big deal is," I said, keeping my face neutral as I answered. After a few months of fun with my fellow Berserkers, I've found that it's the best way to get a rise. Time for a comeback. "It's just a Skrill." I couldn't help the small smile of satisfaction at seeing Gobber's reaction, mirrored by his chief's. I would have milked their dropped jaws and wide-eyes for a good laugh if something else hadn't distracted me first.

Hiccup didn't seem surprised. At all. I think he's the first person I've ever met who didn't react to the name in the slightest. I guess my Skrill wasn't helping much, sleeping with a satisfied look on its face rather than snarling like it usually does when I tell others what it is, but even the half-wit helmsman that's been tying up the ship jumped at the name. Something isn't adding up.

Maybe it's the dragon magic, my mind reasoned. Deciding to look into it later, I waited for Gobber to butt in, ready for another round, but his chief wasn't too keen on letting me have any more fun.

"Weren't they driven to extinction over three centuries ago?" Stoick asked, just as practical as usual.

I was about to answer when Hiccup decided that now would be the perfect time to gasp. "They were what?!" he exclaimed, almost in disgust and definitely in shock.

Not the typical response to that sad fact, but… I said the exact same thing when my father told me of the depressing end of the Berserkers' greatest triumph, so I guess I can't really blame him.

Stoick, all of the sudden the embodiment of caution, flinched and turned to Hiccup. "Son, it was a very long time ago, so I'm not clear on the details, but could you try to… be calm about this?" With a meaningful (almost pleading?) stare, he waited for his son to nod so he could continue, but not before letting out a heavy sigh when he did. "Well, I only know what my father's father told me, but from what I gather, every tribe in the archipelago got fed up with the Berserkers at the time, and that's when they…" he trailed off, then sighed again and turned to my father. "Oswald, would you mind explaining it? You should know more about this than anyone."

My father, probably expecting that, cleared his voice in preparation for the tale that almost every Berserker knows by heart. "Long ago, before any of our times – even before the last half-gather was held – a small, unofficial tribe gathered an army of Skrills, harnessing them with ropes and using their fearsome strength to begin a conquest. With the Skrills' unmatched destructive lightning and lack of a shot limit, the devastation was great. It didn't take long for every non-Berserker in the region to hate us. Since the other tribes couldn't fight human-controlled dragons, they decided to destroy our strength at the source. Massive, decades-long hunts began with the single goal of eradicating the species. I've even heard tell of a large pair of dragons that helped them do it, stealing away many Skrill hatchlings and killing them. When our strength was dwindling, we finally considered a peace treaty. All the Skrills were gone by the time the Berserkers were officially recognized as the 5th Viking Tribe of the archipelago. When the dust had settled, we decided to start asking foreigners if they'd seen any Skrills in other lands. We stopped asking a few generations back, since we got the same answer every time. After that, everybody just assumed that Skrills were gone for good – that they only ever inhabited these archipelagos, and that they went extinct after the hunting parties took most of 'em out."

Even if he was about to finish, I interrupted anyway. "It's a shame, really. The most powerful dragon species in existence was wiped out just because we forced the other tribes into a corner."

Hiccup obviously wasn't happy about this, but nodded anyway before looking back to our ship. "So if they're extinct, what's one doing on your ship?"

"Making a comeback, hopefully." At Hiccup's raised eyebrow, I explained. "A few months back, after your father and, um… Snottysnout, was it? About two weeks after they gave one of our best trading partners some aid, stopping a raid led by that brown Night Fury," – an involuntary shudder ran down my spine when I thought about the deadliest dragon to ever join the war, but I kept it from showing – "an iceberg showed up on the shores of the Berserker mainland. I knew it was a sign from the Gods when I saw what was trapped inside."

Father interrupted, giving his unnecessary two-coppers. "I'll say! I don't think you slept for a week after you heard about the Skrill, claimin' it as your own and chippin' away at that ice non-stop like you did."

I pumped as much sarcasm into my voice as I could when I turned to him. "Thank you, father, for your valuable input."

He smiled and nodded at what he probably thought was one of the few times that I actually thanked him for something, obviously not catching the sarcasm.

What. A. Surprise.

Gobber finally joined in again. "How'd you manage to keep your head on your shoulders when the beastie woke up?"

"Maybe I wouldn't have," I said with a cocky grin, "if the Skrill's favorite food hadn't still been a national secret at the time. Lucky for me, it's been guarded by our chiefs for generations. Of course, now everyone knows thanks to Johann, but it's not like it matters anymore."

Hiccup, less angry after hearing where the Skrill came from, asked something that caught me a bit off guard. "So how did the raiding dragons react to your new… friend?"

My father and Savage adopted equally eager grins, looking very much like they wanted to jump in. Of course, they knew the consequences if they did. A single glance my way was all it took for them to keep quiet.

I had to ignore them after that, too busy with keeping myself under control after when I started to explain. "They hated him! I've never seen anything like it! They never even tried to raid us again after the first time, once they saw just how outmatched they were. Maybe it would have been a different story if one of the Night Furies had been there, but they weren't, so we had free reign! It was easily the most thrilling fight of my life! Nothing compares to hopping around the battlefield and blasting everything in the sky with lightning. Mwahahahaha! And the best part: my Skrill hated the other dragons as much as we did! He even blasted any dragon that came near the island afterward, no harness needed! Well, up until two months ago, anyway. That's the only reason why I agreed to come to this half-gather. To find out why he stopped. I even caught him, and I know this sounds crazy, talking with a little green Terror a while ago."

My father snorted when I brought up this old argument.

I sent him a glare. "It scurried away when I got close, but I swear there was a pattern in those grunts. They were even taking turns! Of course, none of the tribe believes me, since they were all too busy making up stories about a Nightmare, but I know what I heard!"

None of the Hooligans looked very surprised by this, and it was Hiccup who broke the short silence. "So, you think you saw your dragon talking. Want to put it to the test?"

"Um… what?" I asked, my mind still recovering from the rush of adrenaline I get whenever I relive that battle.

Hiccup shrugged, ignoring the very nervous glances from his tribesmen. "I'm curious too, and I want to see if you're right. You know you're right. So, all we have to do is prove it. Right?"

Now very curious about what that dragon magic did to him, I raised an eyebrow before probing. "And how, exactly, are we going to do that?"

"Well, there's only one way to find out, isn't there?" he asked, walking down the gangplank and being very careful where he stepped until he made it onto the dock.

After a moment's consideration, I shrugged. It's not like I have anything to lose, especially if it's just Hiccup we're talking about. "Well, I'm fine with it. But don't blame me if you get shocked."

His father grabbed his arm before he could make another move. "Son, do you really think this is a good idea?" he asked, giving him that stare again.

Hiccup shrugged off his father's grip before speaking in a voice that almost had me reassured. "Relax, Dad, I'll be fine. I don't think Dagur will hurt me."

Stoick shook his head. "You know that's not what I'm worried about."

I snorted. "That's a first."

Hiccup rolled his eyes at me, before turning back to his father. "I promise I'll be careful. Just trust me on this. Okay?"

Stoick stared at his son for a long time, but eventually gave in, taking a step back and letting him pass.

Hiccup's voice rose a little, probably in anticipation, as he called back to his father. "And who knows? Maybe we'll be able to work out the mystery of this Skrill before the other tribes get here. Wouldn't that be something?" he asked, making his way to me and still ignoring the concern of his tribesmen. Savage and my father were looking at Hiccup like he'd grown a second head when he passed them, and I almost did the same, but a curious grin felt more appropriate.

If he wanted to approach the dragon that took weeks for my bravest warriors to do the same, and my coward father much longer, I certainly wasn't going to stop him. In fact, I think it'd be much more fun to sit back and watch, which usually isn't something I get to do.

Just before I could put my foot on the gangplank, Stoick's voice caught everyone's attention. "I think it's time for the rest of us to make our way onto the island anyhow." He started walking down the docks, Gobber in tow, soon followed by my father and Savage. He turned to look at us as he passed. "If anybody else arrives, send them our way. And make sure you make it there yourselves before noon."

Hiccup nodded. "Will do."

I just rolled my eyes. Ceremonies are so tedious.

While the three of them took off in the direction of the island, I motioned Hiccup to follow me onto the deck. I almost tripped over the gangplank when he didn't hesitate for a moment. He didn't even twitch. When we were both on the deck and he was looking at my dragon with very curious eyes, I decided to silently inspect him one last time. I couldn't decide if his confidence reminded me of a skilled hunter, or oblivious prey.