There was a map covering the wall of Hiccup and Astrid's house; the same one that he had spent the last six years creating, although these days he was doing more rescuing than exploring. It had mapped out over its vast surface over a hundred islands nearby, and further away, where their wall had run out of room, many more, all in Hiccup's art style and with his notes pasted to them. Dragons' nests were marked, as were human civilizations. Dragon trapper routes came and went as the pair of them dismantled organized trapper syndicates.
In the great hall, they had commissioned a more traditional artist to recreate Hiccup's map as a mural around all the walls, although now, there were enough vikings and dragons around that one could barely have the chance to see it upon walking in. Six years ago, Hiccup could have walked into the great hall late at night for a chance to be alone, but not anymore.
When he, Astrid, and Toothless returned to their house for the night, their eyes went to the lovingly crafted map before they went anywhere else.
And their weapons were out at the sound of the man's voice before they even caught sight of him.
"It's a lovely map."
Hiccup's sword burst into flame. Toothless's eyes sharpened and he curled around Astrid and Hiccup defensively, ready to spit fire at an instant's notice.
He was sitting in a chair near the fire, completely relaxed. When he leaned forward they saw his long face, like that of the twins, but sharper and more weathered. His skin looked sickly even in the warm-colored light. He pulled a cap back off of his gray-blonde, spiky hair and fixed them with an even stare.
"Forgive me, my friend, I didn't mean to startle you." When he stood, he was tall and thin, wearing a long black coat that looked like it hid many weapons.
"Who are you?" Hiccup demanded.
"My name is Grimmel," said the man. "I'm a traveler and fellow dragon-admirer. Some of your village-folk told me they could find Berk's chief in here." He stood and politely looked from Astrid to Hiccup, keeping his eyes away from the Night Fury. "Which of you should I address as such?"
"Grimmel," Hiccup said suspiciously. His dream pounded at the back of his mind, vying to be recognized. "Your name sounds familiar."
Neither of the couple put down their weapons, but the man didn't appear frightened.
"It's a rather common name in my part of the world," he said simply. "I had to go to great lengths to stand out in my village."
"Where do you come from?" Astrid asked.
"To the west," Grimmel said. "Although I left many years ago. Must be some thirty years ago that I left to travel. Although, some time ago, I did visit Berk. Perhaps that is why you seem to remember my name. It was quite a different place back then, I must say. I doubt anyone remembers me. Am I right in supposing the new chief is the child of Stoick the Vast?"
Astrid and Hiccup glanced at each other. Toothless was still not relaxed, with good reason, but Hiccup put away his sword, extinguishing the flame and making the room that much darker. Astrid lowered her axe. Maybe it would be better to pretend to be convinced, for as long as the Warlord was playing nice.
"I am," Hiccup said.
The already long-faced Grimmel seemed even more saddened at this. "Then I must also be correct in assuming Stoick has passed?"
"Yes," Hiccup said, and Astrid put a hand on his shoulder.
"My condolences," Grimmel sympathized, coming forward a few more steps, but still keeping a respectful distance. "I knew him to be a good man, if a little…shall I say unsympathetic towards dragons. I must confess, I was rather surprised to return and hear that his successor built all this!"
"He changed, towards the end," Hiccup explained, almost defensively.
"How extraordinary! Vikings are not quick to change their minds!"
"No, they do not," Hiccup agreed, and tried to laugh. Hearing him do so finally indicated to Toothless to relax, and he sat up to look at Grimmel through calmer eyes, though his tail still swept around their legs protectively. "How did you know my father?"
"Only that he was chief when I visited. Once during my stay, we sailed side-by-side to the edge of the fog barrier, but never spoke more than a few words to one another. I was at the time convinced I could help with the Dragon Scourge." He chuckled. "Although what I sought were the legendary Night Furies, beasts which no Viking had ever seen."
Hiccup glanced at Astrid and Toothless, smiling to hide a hidden tension underneath. "Were you a dragon-hunter?"
"To be truthful, I could never stand fighting dragons," Grimmel said with a thin smile. "It's much better to live side by side. Although I'm ashamed to say I tried very hard to fit in, while I was here. But now, I have learned so much about dragon-kind, even built a relationship with some of my own."
"Oh, what kind?" Hiccup asked, finally risking to break away from Astrid and Toothless to go put his things down on the desk. Astrid went to hang her axe up on the wall. Hiccup scooped a whittling knife into his hand as subtly as possible and kept his sword in its sheath by his hip.
"I left her outside," Grimmel said. "You didn't see her? She must have climbed up onto the roof! I did tell her not to."
"Oh, that's alright," Hiccup said, moving to bring Grimmel outside. "It's sturdy." Grimmel followed, stepping past Toothless again without a second glance at him.
"Darling, come down here!" Grimmel called up to the roof, craning his neck up. "Please don't be afraid of her; her species gets such a bad reputation. I assure you, she's docile."
A silhouette appeared over the edge of the house's roof, against the starry night sky, and the Deathgripper dropped down two levels to land heavily in front of him. It was a fearsome-looking creature, plated black armor covering its body and insect-shaped hooked front legs with an amount of joints that made it appear as though it walked on its knuckles. A long tail tipped with a venomous spike curled up behind its back.
Astrid and Toothless looked out the door and Toothless made eye contact with the other dragon. His pupils contracted violently, and he backed further into the house while the Deathgripper remained in place and docile, like Grimmel had promised. The Night Fury crooned with anxiety.
Astrid glanced at him, gesturing for him to stay, and went out to greet Grimmel's dragon, closing the door in on him for the moment.
"This is Darling," Grimmel said, patting the scorpion-dragon's black and red head and displaying her tusks. "They're called Deathgrippers—an unfortunately-earned name. I'm sure you understand; your Night Fury doesn't seem particularly furious."
"Oh, of course," Hiccup said, approaching Darling and making his voice gentle: "Hello, Darling!"
"The world used to be terrified of Night Furies. My people alone didn't know what they looked like, how fast they were, how many fire-shots they had in them, nothing. It just goes to show you, we're only afraid of the unknown," Grimmel said, stroking Darling, who had her eyes on Hiccup now. She allowed him to get close and scratch under her chin. Grimmel went on, "Once I found one for the first time, they seemed less of a threat. The more we know about dragons, the less we have to fear."
Hiccup looked up at him, nodding as he heard the older man say this. This was a man who seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. Hiccup's hand found her collar and the thick syringes of fluid and he glanced at Astrid. The dragon was being drugged. Sedated, maybe, so that it would behave.
"Forgive me for asking, but is there a place I can pay my respects to Stoick?" Grimmel asked. "I only recently heard of his death, and wanted to come back to visit before leaving again. I—we—won't stay and take up space."
"Are you sure?" Astrid asked politely. "We'd love to hear stories of your travels."
"No, no, no," Grimmel shook his head. "You've been more than hospitable. And you seem short on beds for the moment."
"Are you sure we can't convince you?" Astrid asked, and Hiccup caught a glimpse of her hand traveling behind her back for a knife of her own. As Grimmel looked at her, he shook his head and she stopped, her hand already on its hilt. "You must have been to so many places! We must insist you stay and describe them to us!"
"Well, you already have such a map," Grimmel chuckled. "But as for whether you can convince me, I'm not sure. How good are you with words?"
"Better than I am with swords," Hiccup joked halfheartedly. "Worse than I am with dragons."
Astrid followed up, "But he's very good with dragons."
"You must be," Grimmel said. "It's no small thing to earn the trust of a Night Fury! And especially of one who can best a Bewilderbeast in a challenge. Forgive me, I do hear people talk of the battle."
Hiccup smiled, chuckling with his shoulders. "Come on, let me show you my father's memorial. Please, Darling can come, too."
As he began to lead the Warlord away, he stopped to hug Astrid and said loudly enough for Grimmel to hear, "I'll be right back."
A kiss on her cheek, and he whispered, "Get the others."
She nodded and watched them walk away, followed by the lumbering figure of Darling, until they disappeared up the hill. She looked up at the roof for more Deathgrippers, and finding none, she rushed to the door and threw it open. Toothless burst out and looked for Hiccup frantically. Him having disappeared, he looked to Astrid alertly, and she hurried him out with her so that she could climb on his back. "Come on. Let's hurry."
—
"I confess, Chief," Grimmel said as they walked the winding path up to Stoick's huge stone monument. "I thought Night Furies were all gone. It's been years since I've seen one."
Did you kill them? Hiccup thought, glancing back. Dragon hunter?
Darling lumbered behind them, her unnaturally-shaped legs rattling the gravel and log stairs, her eyes far away. They had left behind the area of Berk where street lantern fires lit the road, so it was too dark here for Hiccup to more clearly see the sturdy collar around her armored neck, spiking her with her own paralysis venom. It was disguised, anyway, by her saddle, which was unusually close to her head; no other place to fit it, with all the dragon-armor spikes she had natural to her body.
"Ah, they're just rare," Hiccup said to brush the comment off. He'd had his suspicions for years about whether Toothless was the last of his kind. His mother had said something of the sort the first time they'd met. Anger gripped him, but he was too cautious. He had to get this man and his dragon further away from the town. Why would he come here?
"Still," Grimmel pushed. "Where did you find him?"
"I shot him down, actually," Hiccup said. Keep him talking. "I'd built this thing to throw bolas, since I was too weak to. I called it the Mangler. And he showed up one night during a dragon raid and destroyed some trebuchets, I think we had back then. I found a spot on that ridge, over there, and I managed to shoot him down."
"I saw he had a half-tail prosthetic. Is that why? You crippled him?"
"Unfortunately, yes. It's a shame—"
"He can't fly on his own?"
"Not at the moment. I built him one prosthetic that meant he'd be able to, once, but he smashed it."
Grimmel asked, "Does he know you're the one who shot him down?"
"I think so," Hiccup said. "I cost him his tail, so he cost me my leg. I still think he did it on purpose."
"In my dragon-hunting days, I would build machines, too," the other man said. "You and I must be of a similar breed."
Hiccup chuckled to cover his discomfort. "Yes, we must have been."
He stopped at the final step under Stoick's massive statue to look back at Grimmel and Darling. There was a view of nearly the whole village from here, as well as the sea and the stars.
"You know, Chief Hiccup," Grimmel said, "There's a subspecies of Night Furies—a subspecies of Furies, maybe—who look like him, but their scales are entirely white. Hardly on the same level of power, of course."
Hiccup turned to look at him in surprise. "Really?"
"Yes. It's possible, if he really is the last Night Fury, for his line to continue if you found a suitable one of them for him. Night Furies mate for life. So do they—I've been calling them Cloud Furies—but they're almost as rare. But they're a species much more useless than the Night Fury, less powerful, less dangerous. Practically pathetic by comparison. Everyone fears a Night Fury, but their white counterparts…"
"A Cloud Fury…" Hiccup mused. The idea struck his imagination. Dragons like Toothless. But why did Grimmel speak as though he were certain that the Night Furies were all dead, offering a new option like this?
"Maybe there are more of them in the Hidden World, anyway." Grimmel chuckled.
The Chief of Berk perked up. "The what?"
"Oh, I suppose just something your father once said. Maybe he never told you. He thought, since there was the nest that we could never find, there must be a secret hidden world of dragons somewhere."
It disturbed Hiccup that Grimmel remembered something about his father that he himself didn't.
"Although, if there was such a place, I would have found it by now, and so would you. Your map is extensive. Or your dragon, who loves you so much, would have shown you. Although, I believe I know where the territory of the Cloud Furies lies. If you'd like, I could take you to them to see if your dragon is interested." Grimmel looked up at the statue of Stoick, purposefully not looking at the Chief. "Although they spook easily, so perhaps it would be best if I took him alone."
"Absolutely not," Hiccup said. "He's my dragon."
"Incredible, to be the master of a Night Fury."
"I'm not his master," Hiccup said frankly, heartbeat quickening.
"But...he is yours? He listens to you so well. My mistake. You must really be something, to have the trust of the last Night Fury."
Something in Grimmel's voice told him that the other man had made up his mind about what he thought about him, and it wasn't good. Hiccup caught movement in his peripheral vision. As subtly as he possibly could, he glanced over. There was a second Deathgripper, prowling along the path with them, following their movements. Now that he was standing still, it had caught up.
Okay. Time's up. "Is he?" he asked, drawing his sword.
"What?"
"Is he the last Night Fury?"
Hiccup's fire sword lit up with a whoosh, and in the sudden, flickering firelight, Grimmel's face didn't even change. "I've made sure of it." Hiccup's blood chilled and the Warlord went on. "Unwise of you, Chief, to bring me so far away from help. Though I cannot blame you for merely wanting to spare your wife from the sight. May I call her your wife? I believe I saw these on your table." He brought out from his long coat Hiccup's carefully carved wedding spoons and let out a short burst of a whistle, and five more Deathgrippers clambered out from where they had been hiding behind rocks and totems.
Examining the spoons, Grimmel tutted. "Beautiful things."
"Why did you come here?" Hiccup asked.
"You took something from me," Grimmel said, eyes not leaving the carved engagement trinkets while his dragons prowled around Hiccup. "Fifty somethings. You really should be more careful of whose attention you attract."
"Those dragons aren't yours," Hiccup shot back angrily. "They deserve to be free."
"Free?" Grimmel tutted again. "To live in filth? To overcrowd a village meant to be one of Vikings? To kill and maim innocent people? Can't you see your own island? They don't belong here. They will never belong with humans."
"How can you say that? You're using six Deathgrippers."
"Yes, I am," Grimmel said, and then continued with conviction, "But they are not free. You know this. The only good dragon is one conditioned. A free dragon can never be trusted, can never be obedient, so they are better killed. No, my dragons were their own worst enemies—their venom, you see, can be used even on them. So I developed a sedative and drugged them into submission. That is the only way to effectively tame a dragon."
"You're wrong," Hiccup said. "And I can prove it to you."
Grimmel scoffed. "Your own dragon depends on you, or else he cannot fly. Night Furies were born to fly, born for the skies, for lightning, for fighting; you robbed him of that freedom so that only you could provide it, and that is why he has stayed with you. You conditioned your own Night Fury. I must admire you for that."
"I did not condition Toothless!" Hiccup's voice raised angrily and he advanced on Grimmel with his sword.
He clicked his tongue and Darling lunged forward defensively.
When Hiccup put out his hand to her face, she did not react, growling instead as Grimmel continued.
"You are deluding yourself, Stoick's son. Chief. Dragon Rider. Own your actions! Be proud of them! A dragon must be killed or dominated; and your domination of just one dragon built all of this!" He swept his arms out at Berk. "If only I had had enough foresight to have been like you and Drago. But alas, I cannot fight my own nature. When I was a boy, I came up on a Night Fury, and I killed it where it slept. That simple act of courage made me a hero in the nearby village, so I decided to kill every last one and bring real peace to the people of this world. Oh, son of Stoick, if only you knew of the glory. You could share it with me. Strike the last blow. End the last Night Fury. Show the world how strong you can be."
"There's no glory—or strength—in killing," Hiccup shot back. "And I will never give him up."
"Hiccup, my friend, there is plenty of glory in killing! I will kill your dragon in front of you, and in front of your people to reveal to you your own delusion. Without the Alpha, without his dependence on you, the dragons will turn on you and you will see that I was right all along. You will have nothing; no Utopia, no power, no fame, no ability."
"That will never happen," Hiccup said, the chokehold of fear his dream had held him in almost a week ago returning. This was the man he dreamt of.
And he had become a reality.
The Deathgrippers were circling him impatiently, their pupils as sharp as possible, nearly unseen. Their collars were visible now, glinting from the light of the fire, filled with purple sedative.
"You'll see," Grimmel said, and snapped one of the spoons in half, letting the pieces fall to the ground in front of him.
Darling lunged forward at Hiccup and he dodged away, narrowly avoiding her tail as it slammed into the ground where he'd been. Deathgrippers lunging at his opponent, Grimmel spoke again, merely watching. "Don't worry, though. When they see I'm right, I'll be there to save you and your people."
Hiccup ducked away from another dragon's tusks and rolled under one of them and stumbling to his feet as the six dragons clambered over and on top of each other to get to him, almost fighting for who could get to him first. Finally, Darling freed herself from the tangle of dragon wings and lunged at Hiccup, pinning him to the ground.
From nowhere, Cloudjumper descended on the Deathgripper and tackled it away. An instant later, Valka landed beside Hiccup in full Bewilderbeast armor with her shield to defend him from the next dragon's attack.
"Don't let them sting you," she bellowed, and Hiccup's friends descended on Grimmel's dragons. A tail spike buried itself in the shield and she and Hiccup wrestled with the dragon, trying to keep hold of the handle.
Two Deathgrippers surrounded Grimmel at his command, snapping and stabbing at Stormfly and Hookfang as the two dragons circled him looking for an opening. Stormfly spat fire at them and they shielded Grimmel with their wings
"Their collars!" Hiccup yelled. "He's drugging them!"
Darling rolled on top of Cloudjumper with a loud shriek and Meatlug and Fishlegs bowled her over, spinning to the ground, where they both clambered to their feet and rushed back in towards another Deathgripper.
The dragon by Hiccup and Valka ripped its tail free and stabbed at them again, blocked again by the shield, and then opened its jaws and released a violent stream of sloppy green acid that nearly caught their legs. Hiccup yelled in shock as it burst into flames moments later, dripping to the ground and eating into the rock.
Cloudjumper shrieked as Darling sprayed her own fire-acid into the air, tackling her to the ground to prevent her from reaching Valka, and the monument to Stoick the Vast descended into a boiling hell of acid and fire. Hiccup's friends all wore their armor, all fire-proofed, but Hiccup's helmet was back in his house.
"WATCH OUT!" Fishlegs hollered.
The twins and Eret landed to take on the last two Deathgrippers before they could surround Hiccup. One of their tails glanced off of Skullcrusher's armored plates, and the beetle-like dragon lunged forward to grapple it. Barf and Belch sprayed a stream of flammable gas at the other and lit it immediately.
The Deathgripper was blown backwards by the fiery explosion, and the Zippleback chased after, spraying angry sparks and rattling its wings threateningly. The twins dropped down from their respective heads and drew their weapons, charging in with a yell.
Hiccup ducked out from under the shield, swinging his fire sword at the Deathgripper, who flinched away at the fire but quickly turned on him, spitting acid in gallons as Hiccup ducked and dodged away, further towards the mountain.
"Careful!" he shouted at the other Dragon Riders, glancing up at the stone statue above him. It was solid enough, but he couldn't shake the fear of its collapse, if they subjected it to too many explosions.
Valka swiped at the collar of the Deathgripper after Hiccup, trying to pry out one of the syringes. No luck. The dragon thrashed and screamed and sent her to the ground. Valka held her shield up over herself, but the Deathgripper's extendable tusks got under it and it was torn from her hands.
The scorpion-like dragon reared over her furiously, but a Night Fury inhale screeched through the air and fire exploded on the back of the Deathgripper's head. Valka rolled to her feet by Hiccup's side as the dragon was thrown to the ground by the shockwave. Toothless and Astrid landed heavily on the creatures' back, doing their best to avoid its armor spikes. Toothless's eyes frantically sought out Hiccup, who was lunging forward to grip one of the syringes with all his might. Valka did the same on its other side. He threw himself backwards and it popped out of the dragon's collar into his hand.
He tripped with the force and fell onto his back on the stone.
Over him, Cloudjumper and Darling leaped at each other, locked in a mid-air fight the four-winged dragon was just barely holding his own in. Darling stabbed at him wildly with her tail and tried to latch onto his wings to hold him down, and he kicked back at her, his intelligent eyes seeking an opening to strike through. When he finally found one, he caught Darling's face in his claws and sent them both spiraling to the ground with his superior weight. They landed somewhere behind where Grimmel was still defended.
The Deathgripper still under Toothless's weight stood up wildly. Confused, unsteady. Toothless roared a command at it to no avail. There were still two syringes in it, until Valka tore the other one out. The dragon writhed and staggered, throwing its weight forward, and then swinging around, eyes locking onto the sea.
Toothless jumped from its back, just in front of Hiccup, and inhaled with his whole body, his scales beginning to glow blue with his power. And then he roared at it with deafening volume and unmistakable fury. The Deathgripper panicked.
It went bounding towards the sea, wild-eyed.
"Go, get out of here!" Hiccup yelled. And he looked to Grimmel, ready to smile triumphantly—
But the man just watched calmly as his Deathgripper escaped and fixed Hiccup with a look that could have chilled lava. He tucked the remaining intact wedding spoon into his coat pockets and ground his boot onto the broken one. Then he reached to his side and caught hold of the handle of the collar on one of the two dragons defending him, stepping into a foothold it carried and whistled at the other Deathgrippers.
Darling tried to abandon her fight with Cloudjumper to chase it, but Cloudjumper tackled her down again before she could reach the freed dragon.
Another Deathgripper disengaged from where it was, fighting with Barf and Belch, and slammed into the side of the stray one rabidly, screeching. The stray, still panicked and scrabbling clumsily at the ground, shrieked and kicked its pack-mate away, fighting in a fit of desperation to escape.
Another Deathgripper followed, lifting into the air to follow as the panicking one took flight with a scream.
Grimmel's dragon took off after them one by one, and Darling twisted her body violently, tripping Cloudjumper and managing to escape his grip. She sprayed acid and stabbed blindly back at him before launching after them.
The last two Deathgrippers quickly tried to follow.
The twins and their Zippleback caught one just before it could take off.
Hookfang and Snotlout took off after Grimmel, flying alongside him, and the Monstrous Nightmare snapped at him, but a crossbow was already in the man's hand. A bolt buried itself in Snotlout's shoulder and—with a scream—the Viking fell from his dragon, who abandoned his attack and dove to catch him before he could hit the ground.
"SNOTLOUT!" Ruffnut and Tuffnut screamed in unison, and Barf and Belch looked. Their Deathgripper opponent took the distraction to sting the dragon right in the middle of their heads and fled. The Deathgrippers launched into the air to chase after the stray one, taking Grimmel with them.
—
His Deathgrippers caught up to and passed the nearly-freed one not long after it fled, despite its dodging and weaving, and corralled it so that Grimmel could leap safely onto its back. It protested gutturally and thrashed midair, trying to toss him off.
"Stop your shouting," he roared at it, holding tight to its collar and jamming in another syringe. The sedative pulsed into its body, and within moments, the dragon's panic eased and its wingbeats became steadier, giving him opportunity to bring out another syringe to stab into it. "There, now. Isn't that better?" The Deathgripper's eyes eased, and Grimmel's own stared angrily back in the direction of Berk.
—
"Snotlout?" The Vikings crowded around their friend. He groaned, turning on the ground and trying to sit up.
"Let me at him," he grumbled angrily.
"Careful," Valka said, putting pressure on his shoulder around the crossbow bolt. The twins helped him stand up.
"He shot me!"
"Yeah, idiot," Ruffnut said. "Duh."
"Get him to the doctor, and quickly. He may have poisoned his bolts," Valka said. Hookfang lent his head to help him on, and Eret followed after to support him. The twins looked around for Barf and Belch to join them and saw the Zippleback prone on the ground, eyes rolling fearfully.
"Barf?"
"Belch?"
They rushed over and found Fishlegs and Meatlug paralyzed, too, nearby.
"It'll wear off," Valka said with a mother's anxiety, "Just give it time. At least it didn't hit you twice." Hiccup and Astrid propped Fishlegs up as Valka looked around. "Is everyone else okay?"
Stormfly, Hookfang, and Toothless were alright. Skullcrusher was alright. Meatlug, Fishlegs, and Barf and Belch would be okay. Hiccup, Astrid, the Twins, and Eret were alright. She sighed with relief. That just left Snotlout and the crossbow bolt. Hiccup came up to her, though, and presented the vial of venom-sedative.
"I think we should start worrying about him," she said.
—
"You just left them there?" one of Grimmel's Warlord acquaintances demanded. She was a thin woman with a temper, and her face had been red from fury ever since she'd seen him returning alone.
"Relax, my friend," he said, stepping down from Darling's side-saddle—more of a foothold to stand on, hanging from her collar with footholds that folded up—to join them by the fire. The other five Deathgrippers paced agitatedly at his return as the Warlords got up to greet him, giving the impression that the trees' silhouettes were shifting and churning dangerously in the moonlight.
"Where are they going to go? They're Vikings—stubborn, hardheaded—and Berk's new Chief could never convince them to abandon their home of three hundred years. They will not just leave. We know where their island is, so why rush it? The flock is there, practically waiting for us to come take it. The Night Fury, the Alpha, is the last of his kind, and I do so miss the hunt. Relax. Sit. Listen. The dragons are all yours, once I take the Night Fury, as I have promised. Without an Alpha, they will fall apart and the flock will be yours to use, to destroy, to kill as you please. But I am the Night Fury killer, and I know well when not to strike."
"So you didn't strike," said the second Warlord, a large man with an impossibly burly chest.
"Obviously."
"Good for you. You know when not to. But when do we strike?"
At the click of his tongue, Darling lunged forward at the man, slamming him into the ground and extending her tusks over him, one armored insect-like knuckle on his chest to hold him down.
Grimmel stepped forward to lean over him. "When I say so. When they can all see their Alpha fail to protect them." He grinned, and, grabbing the Deathgripper's collar, pushed her away from the man back towards her pack. He himself began walking to his own tent, calling over his shoulders to his Warlords, "Please, don't wait up. Rest! Dream! Celebrate! The entire flock of Berk is soon to be yours!"
He disappeared behind the fine burlap of his tent and his three Warlords exchanged a glance with each other as a lantern came on.
In his tent, Grimmel opened a chest and took out a syringe filled halfway with purple Deathgripper venom extracted from their tails; the same sort that he used to drug them. He ran his fingers down the fearsome thing, his expression changing to a manic eagerness. "I'm coming for you, Alpha," he whispered, rolling his sleeve up.
He measured carefully the amount he injected into his arm, and took it out to place it back in the chest right before he collapsed against his bed with a wash of ecstasy washing over his face. His eyes rolled up into his head as he was blessed with wicked visions of his dead Night Fury conquests from the past. The venom rooted through his mind to find the ideas he'd run out of Night Furies for before he'd gotten to try them out. Blood trickled from his nose.
—
In their home later that night, both Hiccup and Astrid were awake, although they were both sitting on the bed. Conversation had abandoned them as they both turned over in their minds how to deal with this new threat. Astrid cradled the broken pieces of the wedding spoon Grimmel had crushed.
"I can make them again," he said. "I still have the design drawn out…" He trailed off, not knowing if that was what was upsetting her, and then tried again. "I guess I'll have to think of another time and place to propose."
Astrid laughed halfheartedly at this. "You think you can beat the last one?"
"Oh, yeah. I'll find a prettier spot and a better moment and I'll be flashy and confident and I'll remember to get down on one knee this time, and I'll make sure the next spoons are even better."
"Draft number what, number four?"
"These next ones will be number five."
She smiled and put the spoon on her bedside table so that she could cup his face in her hand. "Well, it wouldn't matter if you couldn't do any of that. I'd say yes no matter what."