"Good to see you properly awake. How does your arm feel?" Ryker spoke without much sincere concern.

"Better." Viggo got up from his cot and examined the bound wound. The healer had done an excellent job, but the girl had inflicted severe damage. "I'm informed there's likely to be a loss of dexterity in this hand. The healer says she might have had a better chance of preventing that if you had been quicker to recover me from the battlefield."

Ryker's brow lowered. There was an edge to his voice now. "Enough men were injured getting past those dragons."

Viggo gave him a hard look. Ryker stared back at him, with that same half-defiant expression he'd used since they were small.

"How was the shipment impacted in the end?" Viggo asked.

Ryker's scowl became more pronounced. "Nearly all the beasts were set free. But," his demeanour changed, becoming almost cheerful, "We managed to capture the Night Fury. The Riders fought tooth and nail for him, but they had to give up in the end. Gods, I loved the looks on their faces. And the dragon's." Ryker gave a rare grin. "Without their leader and strongest weapon, the Riders are more vulnerable than ever. We can take them down, brother."

Viggo stiffened. Yes. The Riders were, of course, without Hiccup Haddock. His knife had made sure of that, had it not?

Unbidden, into his mind came an image of the boy's face at the moment he had realised he had been stabbed, of the tumult of emotions that had rushed across it. Shock. Betrayal. A terrible disappointment.

Viggo brushed it away. There was business to attend to.

"So, what's the plan now, then?" Ryker sounded impatient.

Viggo stroked his chin, thinking. The plan. It had been three days since Haddock's death. The Riders would have taken the corpse back to Berk for the funeral. They were surely still grieving their friend, and were therefore most vulnerable before they pulled themselves together enough to launch a rescue mission. They would soon be back, though, to retrieve the Night Fury, probably in about four to six days. A surprise attack while they flew back to their base could do it…

Viggo hesitated. It was perfectly simple; all he had to do was open his mouth and give the orders, yet he remained silent. He saw again Hiccup Haddock's face as he fell. He felt again the boy's anguish reflected in his own soul.

Viggo's next words took him as much by surprise as they did his brother.

"We'll discuss it in the morning. Leave." His words were terse and clipped.

Ryker paused, obviously taken aback, but obeyed all the same.

Berk was so different. Every barrel, every house, everything she had known her whole life seemed somehow changed. Everything spoke of Hiccup's absence. Every reminder intensified the dull, unbearable ache in her chest.

Astrid kept her eyes staring straight ahead, trying not to see. She could not, however, block her ears. Her hands were needed to push the cart they had put the body into, and she heard everything.

The shocked gasps and whispers of the obviously watching Vikings. The renewed sobs from Fishlegs. The muffled sniffles from Snotlout and the twins. And loudest of all, the silence of the Chief.

Stoick was standing right in the middle of the plaza, turned towards them and very still. He was too far away for Astrid to see his face clearly, but she knew he was looking them over, again and again, as if expecting his son to step out of a shadow and prove that the shrouded body in the cart was not Hiccup's.

They were closer now, close enough to see their Chief's lips form a silent no, a plea to the gods to rewrite reality.

Astrid reached him first. She opened her mouth to speak, to explain, to condole, but nothing came out. There was a lump the size of an apple in her throat and all she could do was bow her head.

Stoick's calloused hands were exceedingly gentle as he reached into the cart and pulled back the sheet they chad covered the corpse with. Astrid caught a flash of blank green eyes and blue-tinged skin before Stoick abruptly yanked the shroud back over the face. He turned and left without a word.

Everyone watched him walk with slow, heavy steps up to the house he had shared with his son. For the first time she could remember, Astrid allowed a tear to trail down her cheek as she watched her chief's shoulders hunch and begin to shake.

Author's Note
Sorry about the long gap between updates! From now on, I'll try to post every fortnight.
Hope you enjoyed Chapter One. Have a nice day!