Author's Note: Within a day of posting this chapter, Living Anonymously will surpass 50,000 views in total. That's quite the landmark (though not as big a landmark as Living Vicariously passing 100,000, which should happen before the end of August at the current rate).
But that's not why we're here. It's time for the third set of deleted, removed, or otherwise nixed scenes. As before, here's a table of contents to help make sense of it all:
Peaceful Promises of Violence (Chapter 23)
Alternate Assignments (Chapter 24)
Night Strike (Chapter 24)
Newlywed Bonding Exercise (Chapter 25)
Noon came and went slowly, so slowly. The tension aboard the Bog-Burglar's ship was thick. Bertha knew better than Smith or Mogadon how precarious their situation was. As such, Maour and his friends spent the day with her, to at least share the company of someone as nervous as they were.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the sun reluctantly slid below the horizon. Maour and Toothless were off in a flash, making it to the hilltop in seconds. Then there was another period of waiting, as the chiefs filed in. Maour noticed that Smith had traded seats with the Visithugs to Maour's right, and Mogadon already had the log next to Bertha. The four allied chiefs would stand together, literally and figuratively. Not that anyone knew of their alliance yet. It would be announced at the end of tonight if nothing called it into effect first.
Smith smiled nervously, making sure his daughter was still next to him and hadn't wandered off. He needn't have bothered. Kim was playing a game with Toothless, who was entirely happy to do anything to pass the time. The two were taking turns making faces at each other. The goal seemed to be to get the other to laugh.
Maour smiled as Toothless grinned, popping his teeth up and down. He had never known Toothless had control over the top and bottom teeth separately, but he apparently did. As the top slid down, so did the bottom, and vice versa. It looked ridiculous, and Kim was soon in tears of laughter.
The Order-Keeper looked over at them. He tried to hide a smile at Toothless's ridiculous expression. "If you two don't mind, we are about to begin."
Toothless and Kim abruptly stopped and sent him identical stares of annoyance. But they brought their attention back to the gathering at hand. Toothless subtly tensed as he recalled why they were there, and Kim scooted closer to her father.
The Order-Keeper cleared his throat. "Very good. This is the last official night of the meeting. Of course, you can all loiter afterward, if you wish. No need to rush. Tonight, the main announcements, if there are any, will be made. Wars, alliances, that sort of thing. Really, any big announcement you chiefs feel everyone should hear."
Dagur immediately jumped to his feet, grinning. "I have not one, but two! Two announcements, both great. Well, great for me!"
"Well, get on wi' it! We're waitin'." Alvin was not impressed by Dagur's enthusiasm.
Dagur scowled at him. "Don't ruin the moment, Al." He turned to the Berkians. "First I am happy to announce that I am no longer single! The lovely Astrid Hofferson and I have gotten engaged!" He smiled at Astrid, who laughed at him. Her eyes were cold, and she spared a long glance over at Maour.
'You've got to be kidding.' Toothless was extremely dismayed by that particular announcement.
Maour shared the sentiment, but he couldn't say anything. He put a few things together at that moment. Dagur liked Astrid because she was like him. Dagur had wanted a second-in-command for his armada. Astrid wanted to hunt dragons to extinction. Dagur had a grudge against the dragon rider Astrid hated above all else. And Astrid would do anything to further her goals. He should have seen this coming a mile away. It fit both of their motives perfectly. Dagur got a perfectly crazy wife and ally, and Astrid got a massive armada perfect for hunting dragons. Which, unbeknownst to her, was already extremely close to his home. This had gone from bad to catastrophic.
Alvin smirked condescendingly, his voice carrying just a hint of anger. "A fitting match. But aren't the 'offersons supposed to approve tha'?" He seemed amused.
Dagur laughed mockingly. "Usually, yes. But chief Snotty here has negotiated all of the details in their stead. He gets to break the news, too." He grinned at Snotlout. "Have fun with that. And try to avoid the axes they throw at you for marrying off their daughter for them."
Astrid stood, grinning. "And you are all invited to the wedding. We don't exactly know when it will be, but we do know the place." Her eyes were dead and cold. She made eye contact with Maour. "The Isle of Night. Once we've killed the current inhabitants, burned the entire island to the rocks, and salted the earth."
Dagur pulled out his ax. "And that brings us to the other thing. The Berserker tribe is declaring war on the Isle of Night. If any of you know where it is, that would make an excellent wedding gift. We think we know where to start looking, but it would save time."
The Order-Keeper stepped in, his voice sad. "The Berserkers have declared war on the Isle of Night. By our tradition, does the Isle of Night have any allies?" He didn't sound hopeful.
Maour stood, and Toothless snarled threateningly. "The Isle of Night does not stand alone."
Bertha, Smith, and Mogadon all stood, unsheathing their weapons to symbolize their willingness to fight. Mogadon spoke for them all. "We are all honor-bound to defend any member of our defensive alliance that is attacked. We stand with them."
The Order-Keeper tried to maintain his facade of calm. "That means that if this is finalized, the Berserkers have declared war on the Isle of Night, Meatheads, Bog-Burglars, and Waxears. Are any other tribes going to get involved, or is that it?"
Dagur was glaring at Snotlout, who was eyeing Mogadon. And then Alvin, for some reason. Snotlout shook his head. "I didn't sign up for this. Berk takes no sides in this fight." He grinned as Astrid glared at him. "I'd be a bit more scared of you if I hadn't just married you off to another island. Not much you can do to me now."
Dagur shrugged. "We didn't need you anyway." He looked around. "Anyone else?"
Trott smiled apologetically at Maour.
Maour waved him off. "It's fine. You have enough to deal with yourself."
"I still wish you luck. Hopefully, you won't need it."
The Order-Keeper was about to speak, but he was interrupted.
"Ah, why the 'ell not? I'm in." Alvin leered at Dagur before saying the rest. "I'm in, against the Berserkers." He looked at Maour. "I might as well. You four defend, and I'll raze Berserker island to the ground in the meantime. Good plunder there, and no defenses with 'im at war."
Dagur was speechless. He had bad blood with Alvin, but this was a bit much. "Why? I mean, you hated Stoick, but you defend his son? Not exactly consistent, are you Al?"
Alvin glared at Dagur. "Stoick and I had a rivalry that went a bit far, and you just got betrothed to the woman that 'elped a spineless worm kill 'im. I'm not defendin' his son, I'm attackin' you. This is just a great reason to do it."
The Order-Keeper waited a moment, but that seemed to be everyone. "So, the Berserkers are at war with everyone I mentioned, plus the Outcasts. With no allies." He looked at Dagur. "This is the aggressor's one chance to take it back, and everyone can pretend it didn't happen. What say you, Dagur?"
Maour had a sinking feeling that even with Alvin, it wouldn't be enough. Dagur was smart, but the crazy in this case probably outweighed that. There was another trait Dagur and Astrid shared. They got really crazy when thwarted. This definitely counted. He braced himself.
"We'll end all of them. The Berserkers are strong! I'm not taking this one back. We'll destroy the Isle of Night first, and then move on to the next enemy, and the next, and so on. None of your tribes will exist when I'm done!" Dagur was screaming now. Astrid stood by his side.
The Order-Keeper sighed. "So be it. The Berserkers are now at war with five tribes. At the same time." He looked around. "Any other announcements?"
Trott smiled. "I was going to announce that the Lava-Louts are entering into a trade deal with the Hysterics, but that doesn't seem so important now, at least by comparison. I think we're probably done here."
Bertha stood. "Well said. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have to plan how to defend our people from two maniacs and an armada." She pushed her way out of the circle and made her way down the hill.
Camicazi whispered to each of the chiefs in the alliance before following her mother. "Bertha says we should meet on her ship, as she brought a few more Burglars than necessary, for protection. It's the safest place right now." The peace still technically held for the moment... but accidents happened. Best to be prepared.
Smith and Mogadon nodded wordlessly and began the trek down the hill. Maour stayed, and after a moment approached Alvin.
Alvin waved him off. "Ah, I don't mind you. You do what ye have to. I'll make sure Dagur has to watch the home front. I owe him one. And Snotlout, but that can wait." He grinned. "Besides, you might be the only person I've ever known to Outcast themselves before their chief could get the chance. You may not be one o' mine, but I respect that."
Maour nodded. "Thank you." He and Toothless vaulted into the sky from the outer edge of the hilltop.
"Well, we're in it now." Mogadon wasn't happy. He was pacing across the deck of Bertha's ship. "Boy, now would be a great time to hear about your military forces."
Maour nodded. "The Isle of Night has no ships. We have something better. As of now, our combat-ready forces consist of fourteen Night Furies, sixteen in dire cases, and five riders, counting myself."
Mogadon whistled. "Fourteen Night Furies. Not bad. All combat-trained? And how do you plan on directing fourteen dragons with five riders?"
Bertha scoffed at him. "They direct themselves, Mogadon. Hasn't that gotten through your skull yet?" She had been fully convinced of that for a while.
Smith frowned. "Alright, we can work with that. I can send a bit more than half of my forces in aid if I know where to send them. That's about ten ships."
Bertha nodded thoughtfully. "As can I, adding another twelve." She smiled. "With Bog-Burglar crews, meaning my ships are stealthy and quick. We need them to be. Think of us as a hit and run group."
Mogadon scowled. "I can spare nine of my offensive ships. Crewed by the finest Meathead warriors."
Maour tallied it up. "Alvin will be going after Berserker island, so that makes thirty-one ships to our aid, ten normal, twelve light and fast, and nine heavy if I know the Meatheads. And over a dozen of the deadliest dragon in the archipelago, along with five riders, who are a bit different compared to normal humans. Nothing too major strategically speaking, but helpful in communication." He looked around. "Do we know how many ships Dagur has all told?"
Bertha nodded. "I set Camicazi to find that out. Savage likes to talk, apparently."
Camicazi grinned. "When he's drunk and thinks it's harmless to brag to a little girl. I'm not sure if he even remembers that now." She pulled out a piece of parchment. "I wrote it down. Altogether, the Berserker fleet is eighty ships. But twenty of them are small, not really meant for combat. They're crewed by about a dozen men apiece, ranging from raw recruits to seasoned veterans. There are eight here, and apparently, Dagur lost the crew to one recently. Savage complained about the four ships still being repaired too. So that means thirteen are here or Berserker island. Odds are those will stay because of Alvin. But apparently, the rest of the fleet is somewhere in the South. Which, by deduction, means that those ships total sixty-seven in number. They're about two weeks out that way."
Smith smiled. "Good. It will take them forever to actually get to wherever the Isle of Night is. If they can even find it. Where is it, anyway?"
Toothless and Maour winced. "I'm not allowed to say yet. But it's far too close to that armada for comfort. That's how we found Heather. One of their boats stopped at our island to restock on fresh water."
Mogadon scowled. "When will we be allowed to know?"
"The second I get these treaties ratified, you can know. But for now, just set sail for Mahelmetan. It's a good central island in that area, and one the Berserkers haven't looked at, from what I know. Before you get there, a rider will find you and redirect you to the Isle itself. We travel really fast, remember? We'll catch up to you before you're halfway there."
Bertha brought out a big map, one that reached as far South as Mahelmetan. "We'll do that. Dagur will have to make his way out there anyway, to take control of the Armada, so we'll both get there at almost the same time. Maybe a few weeks after Dagur. We have to go home and rally our people first. You'll be on your own for a couple of weeks until we arrive."
"I know. Our best asset during that time is that they don't know where we are. We'll pick off every Berserker ship we catch alone, thin them out. But that might not be very many. We're vulnerable to ships that are wary or traveling in formation. That's where things get tricky for an all-air force."
Smith smiled. "And that's where our forces come in. They can't watch the skies if they have to deal with us too."
"Exactly. We'll discuss actual combat plans at the Isle." Maour took in the scene. Three chieftains, all planning to sail to his people's aid, and one not present, acting as a thorn in Dagur's side simply because he wanted to, whatever past he had. "Thank you, all of you. We wouldn't survive this without your help. Astrid has promised to make me watch as she kills everyone I love. We're going to make her eat those words." Toothless walked over to Maour, purring. Maour smiled at him. "We're going to leave for the Isle right now. I would advise you also leave in the night. I don't trust Dagur. He might 'peacefully' keep you here, to prevent you from doing anything."
"We will. Safe travels." Bertha spoke for all of them.
"And for you too. I'll see all of you soon." With that, Maour and Toothless took off, heading for the sea stack that the others were waiting on. They didn't even bother to land, simply circling it as Toothless shouted 'we're going home, right now!'
Einfari, Shield, and Heather had already been prepared to leave, and simply took off, following Toothless as he struck out towards their distant destination. They had already planned a route, and none of this was unexpected.
'So, how'd it go?' Einfari was nervous.
'Badly. Dagur and Astrid are planning on getting married on our graves, and even Alvin deciding to take a stab at Dagur's island while he's away didn't stop him. But our allies are coming to help.'
"Great. So, we just go home and get ready?" Heather hefted her ax.
"Yes, as quickly as possible. Heather, you're wearing a heavy coat, right?"
"Yeah, why?"
Maour grimaced. "We need to move as fast as possible. We can cut a few stops off of our trip, skipping them entirely. But it involves flying at super high altitudes all night, and so the coat. You really don't want to try this without one." Maour knew that sleep-flying would shave several days off of the trip, but he would never enjoy the process.
"I'll be fine." Heather knew they couldn't waste time. This would be a trying few weeks, but she could manage.
Reason for Removal: The title says it all, really. Peaceful? Dagur and by extension Astrid are declaring war, and I expected everyone to believe they'd just play nice and let the enemy leave? There were so many problems with this scene, and by the time I reached the same point in rewriting, I barely even worked off of the bare bones of this.
Alternate Assignments (Chapter 24)
Toothless snorted, nosing Maour up from his spot on the floor. 'Come on, let's go talk to Fishlegs and Berg. They'll have more information for us, hopefully. And we need to send out riders to the ships heading our way, to direct them here.'
Maour sighed, following his brother. "Duty calls, I suppose. Or an overeager brother. Hard to tell the difference." He effortlessly dodged Toothless's half-hearted swipe of the tail.
'You know we need to be proactive.' Toothless said this as he left the cave, Maour following. 'We have to be ready. And I've been thinking. We should whittle down Dagur's armada as much as possible before he gets here.'
Maour agreed with that. But it would be difficult, and dangerous. He thought about it as they sought Fishlegs out, finding him and Berg at the entrance to the Eldur caves.
"Maour! We were just about to find you two."
'Actually, we were going to get a second breakfast, then find you.' Berg licked his lips. 'I need a lot of food nowadays.'
Toothless eyed his friend. 'How in the world are you already that big?' Berg had put on even more muscle since they last saw him.
Berg rumbled happily, flexing his wings. 'We've been training. Fishlegs thought it wasn't safe that I was slower and had less endurance than the others. We haven't fixed that yet, but all that running and flying with weights on my back has helped other areas.'
Maour smiled. "That's a funny way to refer to Fishlegs."
Fishlegs shrugged. "And sometimes I bring our lunch along if we want to push ourselves." He got onto Berg's saddle. "We caught some Berserkers while you were gone."
Maour nodded. "Yeah, we were wondering how that went. Shield learned that Berserker ships aren't as easy to eliminate as he had hoped the hard way."
Fishlegs frowned. "Shield?"
Toothless clarified for both Fishlegs and Berg, as they flew out to sea. 'Einfari's brother, Nóttreiði. He's turned something of a new leaf, and wants people to call him that now.'
Berg purred. 'Good. I'll have to congratulate him. I haven't seen them since they got back.'
Toothless felt he should help Shield out. 'Don't mention the scar. It brings back bad memories.'
Berg frowned. 'What scar?'
'Believe me, you'll know when you see it. I wasn't kidding about the Berserker ship.'
'Well, here we are.' Berg circled the sea stack in the middle of nowhere that he had brought them too, looking down at the three Berserker ships anchored there. He set down on one, and Toothless followed suit. 'One generic Berserker armada vessel, minus its crew of about a dozen armed Berserkers. From what we saw, about three crossbows is the average per ship. And of course these net launchers.' He sniffed one cautiously.
Toothless growled. 'Those are dangerous. One hit could tangle and drown the dragon targeted. Or, get them captured if the Berserkers haul them in.'
Fishlegs pulled out a book and flipped through it. "We did some tests. We think these launchers are only good at close range, and they need two Berserkers to operate."
Maour eyed the rudimentary contraptions. "And they aren't very well built. They'd only be useful if the crew was ready and focused. The two things they probably won't be. But still, we can't rely on their failures of discipline."
Fishlegs smiled. "I took the liberty of designing some maneuvers that we might be able to use." He showed Maour and Toothless the drawings. "Berg helped. And the twins were actually fairly helpful too."
Maour examined the pictures. "What do you think, bud?"
'Some of these could work. I like that one.' Toothless nosed a particular drawing. 'Fast, effective, and it doesn't use up any shots.'
Fishlegs frowned. "These are all hypothetical, just so you know. We haven't had time to test them." He looked at the deck under their feet. "And we do need to see how many shots it takes to sink one of these."
Toothless and Berg grinned. 'Well, no time like the present.' Toothless laughed. 'I haven't gotten to blow something up in a while. I might be out of practice.'
A few moments later, Toothless and Berg were hovering a short distance away from one of the ships.
"Any particular method to this, Fishlegs?" Maour was smiling.
"One shot at a time hit the same spot. We can alternate. Berg, want to start us off?"
In way of response, Berg fired a full-strength plasma blast at the hull, right above the waterline. It splintered and cracked the treated wood, but didn't make any noticeable holes.
Toothless waited a few seconds, then hit the same spot with another plasma blast. Now there was a hole, though it wasn't very big. At the rate water was coming in, it would be an hour before the ship sank.
Berg hit the same spot again. Now the hole was huge, and as they watched the boat began to visibly list, tilting to the side.
Fishlegs marked that down in his notebook. "Okay, so about three shots to disable a ship. And they need to hit right above the waterline. A hole like that where no water can get in is pretty useless."
"Yes. That isn't great. Furies can shoot about eight full shots an hour, right bud?" Maour scratched Toothless's ear.
'Right. I know of no way to break that particular limit. So, not even three full ships per Fury an hour. With fourteen Furies, that makes a total of twenty-eight ships sinkable in an hour, if everything goes perfectly, and we all coordinate.'
"Well then, we'll have to test Fishlegs' methods. But Fishlegs, you won't be here to help with that. Can you make a copy of that part of your notebook before you leave?"
Fishlegs frowned, clutching the notebook to his chest. "Where we going?" He looked down at Berg. "No one told us anything about a trip."
Maour shook his head. "Sorry, I forgot about that. We need you, Heather, and the twins to go with your bonds and seek out our allies, who should be on their way to Mahelmetan in a few weeks. If you leave now, you can probably catch them right after they depart their home islands, and give them their copies of the treaty, along with marking our island on their maps."
"But we need to get to the Meatheads, Bog-Burglars, and Waxears, right? So why do you need four of us?"
Toothless snorted. 'Separating the twins is a bad idea. Especially on a journey that involves diplomacy at the end.'
"Fair point. So, who is going where?"
Maour considered that. "Heather should go to the Bog-Burglars. The twins should go to the Meatheads. Mogadon deserves to put up with them. And that sends you to Smith of the Waxears. He's the furthest out. But, because of the meeting island's central location, they should all get here at about the same time. You'll deliver the treaty and information, and..." Maour considered it. "Actually, you should stay with them. Having a rider present will ease their minds, and you can scout for them, making sure Dagur didn't decide to set up any little surprises with the few ships he has at home. I wouldn't put it past him to send one in on a suicide run at someone's fleet." It would also get the chiefs used to interacting with other riders.
"Is that a good idea? You'll be four dragons and riders short here for two months."
"Fishlegs, we were gone for two months, right? How many ships ended up around here in that time?"
"Three, but a few passed by in the distance."
"Then we should be fine. And we'll whittle down Dagur's forces. Those ships in the distance will be going down if they show up. Right now, his armada is scattered, in search mode. We can fairly safely pick off individual ships if we can find them."
"Okay. When should we leave?"
"There's no rush. In a few days, maybe. Can you tell the twins? I'll tell Heather." He wanted to talk to Heather anyway, as well as see how Shield was doing.
"On it. Well Berg, we better go find them now. It might take that long."
Berg snorted, flying off towards the island. 'We all need to leave together, safety in numbers. If we don't find the twins, we can't leave. So yes, we should start searching now.' He seemed amused.
'Is it safe to send them without us?' Toothless was a bit skeptical that the other riders could handle a journey like that.
"Bud, you know they can, at least together. Fishlegs supplies the knowledge, Heather will be the practical and experienced one, given the amount of traveling she and Einfari have done already, and the twins will listen to them. And their dragons are all competent fliers. I would trust Berg, Blast, Boom, and Einfari to make this journey on their own if they knew the way."
'True, but I think the twins might cause a diplomatic incident.'
"Which is why I put them with Mogadon. He probably deserves whatever they come up with. And having to deal with two dragons constantly pranking him alongside the twins might make him question his assumption that we're controlling you guys."
'Good point. The twins definitely aren't in control of Blast and Boom. Partners, at best.'
With that, they followed Berg and Fishlegs, heading back to the island. While Berg immediately began to search for the elusive twins, Toothless headed for the Nótt caves. 'You wanted to talk to her now, right?'
"Sure, why not?" Maour had actually been planning to try and find Heather near the end of the night, when she and Einfari were likely to actually be at the cave, instead of out flying somewhere. But they might as well try.
As it turned out, all of the Nótts were in the small clearing outside their cave entrance. Shield and Nótthljóður were playing, and Heather was a fair distance away, practicing with her ax. Einfari was watching both activities, as was Nóttleiðtogi. Nóttskarpur wasn't around at the moment.
When Toothless set down, Shield instantly paused and looked up, quickly spotting him. He purred for a moment, and then went back to what he had been doing.
Maour dismounted, waving to Nóttleiðtogi and Einfari, before moving over to Heather. "Heather, do you have a second? I need to talk to you and Einfari about something."
Heather stopped working with her ax, panting slightly. It was unfolded, and she planted one end in the ground, using it as a walking stick. "Yes, what is it?"
Maour winced. "I hate to ask this, but I need a rider to go with Fishlegs and the twins to deliver the treaties and information to our allies, and stay with them on the way here."
Einfari growled. 'But we just got back!'
"I know, I know. And the riders won't be leaving for a few days. But the group needs at least a few members with experience on this particular route, and it has to be a dragon with a rider, to deal with the chief at the end of the journey. And, well..." He trailed off.
Heather understood. "And you can't go. Not now, not when you have responsibilities here." She looked over at Einfari. "What do you say?"
'I guess we're going. We leave with the other riders?'
Toothless nodded. 'Whenever they go. Basically, a day or so after Fishlegs finds the twins and tells them. So you have some time.'
Shield had been listening. He walked over to Toothless, Nótthljóður following him. 'Can you assure me that they'll be safe?'
'No, I can't. You know that. It shouldn't be dangerous, but you never know. They'll travel with three other Furies and riders for most of the journey there, but eventually, they'll have to split up to go to their respective chief's island and find their fleet. The journey here will be long, by boat, but that part should be totally safe.'
Shield looked between Nótthljóður and Einfari. He seemed undecided.
Nóttleiðtogi made the decision for him. 'Shield, stay here and protect Nótthljóður. Einfari and Heather are more than capable of handling this, and we don't know what will happen here while they're gone. You're more likely to be needed here.'
Shield looked over at his father and bowed his head in assent. 'You are correct, as usual. I will stay. Be safe, sisters.' He nuzzled Einfari and Heather, ignoring his scar in the process.
'We will. And you. All of you.' Einfari purred at Nótthljóður. 'Especially you, Joy. Don't get into trouble.'
Heather laughed. "Guys, we aren't leaving right this second. We have some time."
But time passed quickly. In a few days, Maour and Toothless saw the riders off. They watched as the four silhouettes disappeared into the night, flying at a slightly slower pace than normal to accommodate Berg. The trip for the travelers passed slowly, as they knew they only had a longer and much slower ride back to look forward to. However, it passed without any major incidents. After a few weeks, the time came for the riders to split up, heading to the islands of their allies. From there, each rider-dragon pair (or quartet) followed the path the fleet would have taken, and eventually found them.
"Berg, I think that's them!" Fishlegs was overjoyed at the prospect of not flying all day every day for a while. So he was pretty excited.
Berg responded by speeding up. 'Good. This was getting boring, playing catch-up to a group of boats.' He considered the fleet. 'Though it is interesting to see how these ships differ from those of the Berserkers.'
The two travelers circled the fleet, receiving some scattered cheers. More than they were expecting, to be honest, even if these were allies. Vikings did not normally cheer dragons. They continued circling until they were signaled down onto one of the ships.
Fishlegs immediately dismounted, walking in a quick circle around Berg to get rid of the cramps in his legs.
Berg on the other hand gratefully folded in his wings and promptly settled down, entirely content to go to sleep here in the middle of the deck, which he promptly did. Carrying Fishlegs, no matter how strong one was, was tiring work.
A Viking approached Fishlegs. "I assume you would be from the Isle of Night?" He was smiling.
Fishlegs nodded seriously. "Yes, Fishlegs Ingerman and Eldurberg here, at your service." He was trying to sound formal, as he imagined would be proper in this situation. He pulled out the treaty. "Here you go."
Smith took the treaty and unrolled it. "Quite an interesting mark. How was this done?" He was looking at a circular cluster of tear-shaped black blobs. It seemed chaotic but organized, none of the marks escaping a three-inch circle around them.
Fishlegs grinned. He wasn't sure Smith needed to know that that was how the pack, after much debate, signed the treaty. Every Night Fury on the island had dipped a claw in a jar of ink Fishlegs had happened to have, and made one mark. Even the young Furies participated. "Oh, we have a stamp for that."
Heather and Einfari dropped onto the deck of Bertha's leading ship. Heather grinned as Camicazi and Bertha came over to greet them. "You guys really do travel stealthily. Sailing at night? That's dedication."
Bertha laughed. "We figured dragons with night vision wouldn't have a problem finding us, so we didn't think we needed to change anything. You have the treaty?"
Heather handed the parchment over. "Yes, and I am authorized to mark the Isle of Night on one map of your choice."
Bertha shrugged. "Will you be with us until we get there, or are you flying back?"
"With your permission, we will stay with you. Maour figured you could use an aerial scout, and meeting up with the other riders to journey back would have been a hassle."
Camicazi smiled. "Good. How good are you with that ax? I feel the need to redeem myself against a rider."
Heather met her stare. "Not good enough. I'd be happy to train with you, as well as sparring. There's a war coming. Might as well use this trip to prepare."
'Is that them?' Blast wasn't entirely sure.
"Well, let's see." Tuffnut pulled out his spyglasses and focused in on the distant sails. "Maour said these guys were Meatheads. They look pretty stupid to me. I'd say we found them."
"No idiot, that's what their tribe is called! And the sails have the Meathead insignia he described, so that is them."
Boom warbled inquisitively. 'Should we make a dramatic entrance?'
"Yes." Both of the twins spoke at the same time.
Mogadon's midday meal was interrupted by the sounds of twin Night Fury shrieks, apparently quite close by. He grabbed his ax and rushed to the deck of his ship, out of years of dragon-fighting reflexes. He abruptly remembered why he shouldn't attack Night Furies on sight when he saw two of the beasts sitting on the deck of his flagship, a few feet away. And two lanky riders, similar in appearance, though one had a really weird hairdo, something involving stubby braids and not much else.
Before Mogadon could speak, one of the riders bowed mockingly from the saddle. "Chief Mogadon, we presume? We would be the Thorston-Myrkur Quartet of Destruction, Devaluation, and Destiny!"
The other rider winced and slapped the first. "We're still working on the last part."
The first rider slapped her back, whispering furiously. They got into a fiercely whispered debate, completely forgetting Mogadon.
Mogadon stared in shock as the two Furies exchanged clearly amused glances, and one of the two nosed around in the saddlebag of the other, grabbing something after a few moments. The two Furies carefully walked forward, keeping in sync so their riders didn't notice the change of location. The Fury who had grabbed the treaty warbled, clearly wanting Mogadon to take it.
Mogadon stared at the clearly distracted riders quarreling two feet in front of him, and then at the dragon handing him the treaty. He took the parchment from the dragon's mouth carefully.
He knew then, as he unraveled the treaty, that Maour had just outwitted him. Because Mogadon didn't believe that the dragons were intelligent, Maour had sent two dragon-rider pairs in which the dragons were clearly more responsible and possibly more intelligent than the riders.
One of the twins looked up and saw Mogadon looking at the treaty. "Hey! Blast, we were supposed to give him that."
The two dragons looked at each other again and nodded. Before the twins could do anything, the dragons had unceremoniously dumped them out of the saddles and left them there, moving to a sunny corner and curling up there.
"Well, I guess they think their work here is done." Ruffnut scratched her head, staring after the two Furies.
'Yes, it is. We don't do maps, and that's the other part.' Boom yawned. 'Wake us when it's dinnertime.' She put her head down and closed her eyes.
Tuffnut turned to Mogadon. "Oh, and I am delighted to inform you our esteemed..." He turned to Ruffnut. "Wait, is Maour our commander? He doesn't have any power over us, right?"
"No... but we do what he says anyway."
"Why do we do that?"
Blast interrupted. 'Because he comes up with the best plans. He and Toothless are our unofficial pack leaders, at least for the younger Furies. Just go with it.'
Tuffnut turned back to Mogadon. "Whatever. We're supposed to stay with you guys until we get to the Isle of Night, as escorts and scouts. Lucky you!"
Mogadon groaned. "Great." It was going to be a long two months.
Reason for Removal: This was all basically obsolete by the time I got here, and Heather's injury specifically forced a shuffling of assignments anyway.
Night Strike (Chapter 24)
'There it is.' Toothless chuffed seriously. 'Everyone knows the plan, right?'
'Of course, we've done this twice already.' Nóttskarpur purred, barely audible over the sounds of air rushing past them as they flew. 'We know what to do, right Togi?'
Togi laughed. 'Of course. But this rope is annoying.' He shook his front paws, shaking the rope he and Nóttskarpur were carrying opposite ends of as they flew, its length dangling loosely between them.
'Well, we need to test this method. So deal with it.' Myrkurheili's tone implied he was amused by the complaints. 'You were the ones who volunteered, remember?'
"Alright everyone, we're going in. You all know your parts." Maour's voice was serious. "Let's get this done without any mistakes. Keep the streak going." He eyed the Berserker ship passing about ten miles out from the Isle of Night. He spoke softly, not intending anyone to hear. "You guys won't be joining the rest of the Dagur's armada. I hope you can swim."
The four Furies swooped silently towards the ship, Toothless and Myrkurheili flying ahead slightly, circling around so that they were ready to intervene if something went wrong.
The two Furies holding opposite ends of the rope spread out as they approached the ship, moving carefully so as to not jerk each other to the side. The rope wasn't taut, but it was close. They flew low, passing over the ship from its broad side, one over the front and one over the back. The rope between them. They flew, and in a practiced move slowed right before the rope went taut, caught on the mast of the ship. That was the point.
They flew laboriously, pulling in unison. The ship was heavy, but it was a floating object, and they had turned the mast into something of a lever. Either the mast would break, crippling the ship, or...
The ship tilted, and that was when the Berserkers on board realized something was going on. But they were at the moment far too occupied with trying to stay on their mysteriously leaning ship to even notice the two Furies powering away from them, pulling the ship over, onto its side.
It took less than twenty seconds for the ship to go from parallel to the ocean to dangerously tilted. And then it passed the point of equilibrium. It toppled over, falling totally on its side into the ocean.
Skarpur and Togi let go of the rope, as it was still wrapped around the mast, and trying to retain it was far too risky. The ship sunk extremely quickly, pulling many unfortunate Berserkers down under with it. Those who had gotten clear floundered aimlessly in the suddenly empty ocean, miles from any land.
Maour looked away. Vikings were heavy and usually terrible swimmers. But if they lasted long enough, the current around here would probably dump them on some deserted island. There were a few small ones in the path of the current. But that wasn't his concern. They were at war, and at least this way the Berserkers had a chance of surviving. And he wouldn't risk anyone trying to pick these Berserkers out of the water. That was just asking for someone to get cut or stabbed by some fanatic, sure that his death would be worth taking out a Night Fury.
'This is war, Maour. I don't like it, but they chose to follow Dagur.' Togi spoke softly, returning to the Furies with Skarpur.
"I know. It doesn't mean I have to like it either." Maour glanced back at the now-empty waters, save for a few floating barrels and Vikings clinging to said barrels. "Let's go. And Myrkurheili, be sure to warn whoever is on patrol that it's possible we might get a Berserker or two if they somehow swim this far." He was pretty sure it was a Myrkur on patrol the coming day, so Myrkurheili wouldn't have a problem delivering that message.
'Yes. The usual procedure?" Myrkurheili grinned. 'Strip them of weapons and armor, knock them out, and dump them in Mahelmetan?'
"Yup."
'Maour, what could we do with all of the armor and weapons we've taken so far?' Toothless sounded intrigued. 'Fishlegs and the other riders took everything from three whole ships, and we've only added to the pile. There's a lot of metal there. Could we use it for something?'
"I'm not sure. But you're right, it might have some use for us. Probably not as is. We don't need swords or chainmail armor. Fury scales aren't the toughest things, but chainmail would weigh dragons down too much to be useful."
Toothless growled. 'True, our scales aren't the thickest things. We're built for speed and offense. If we need to defend ourselves, we just don't get hit.'
Maour smiled. "one layer of scales is still good, compared to human skin. And remember, stuff like my armor isn't just one layer. overlapping the scales might not be possible for you guys, given they're part of you, but it makes them much stronger as a whole. Your scales don't have to be thick to protect."
Toothless thought about that. 'But we don't shed our scales nearly often enough to make extra armor out of them for ourselves. The other riders don't even have full suits yet, even though all the dragons in their families contribute.' Maour only had a full set because he wasn't of the 'Viking' body type and because all four of the Svarturs had been saving their scales for a few years, for various reasons. Von had contributed almost fifteen years worth on her own because she kept them for sentimental reasons. She had said she would rather see them protecting someone than sitting in a side cave. As a result, only Maour had full body armor. The twins wore scale helmets, and that was about it because there were two of them. Fishlegs had a helmet and arm braces when he chose to wear those. The helmets had been a top priority once Maour hit upon the scale armor idea, to preserve some element of mystery in the appearance of the rider.
"Well, maybe in the future. The really far future." Unless there was a population boom, it would take literal decades for a family to shed enough scales to make a single set of protective armor for a dragon. And Maour knew of no metal light and strong enough. Well, besides that of his scythe, but he had never seen any more of that stuff. It might be easier to just wait for several decades.
The four Furies flew back to the Isle in silence after that, all lost in their own thoughts.
Reason for Removal: Honestly, this scene just wasn't worth the effort to port when I was expanding the conflict anyway; it served as a stopgap 'here's some violence before the final battle' sort of thing, and that was a bigger problem that needed to be solved anyway.
Newlywed Bonding Exercise (Chapter 25)
The first Dagur heard of things going wrong was a subtle gurgling sound. He was by the docks, running a midnight inspection tour. What else was he going to do while he waited for the rest of his armada to show up? Astrid was, if he remembered correctly, still obsessing over maps of the area, trying to figure out where to search. He had recognized her obsession at work and left her to it.
But what was that sound? He squinted over the dark ships docked at this miserable island's many docks. The island was a crescent in shape, and the docks were on the inside edge of it. He looked over the ships, meaning they were all within view where he was, at one of the tips of the crescent. Nothing amiss, everything good, dark figu-
"Intruders! Pirates! Boat-Thieves!" Dagur screamed at the top of his lungs at the shadowy figures that jumped off of one of his- wait, was the ship sinking? They had put holes in his ship! As Dagur looked, he realized that six of his ships were missing. Thor, they had done that much damage already?!
His yells had sounded the alarm, and all across the island Berserkers were rushing out of the many taverns, going to their assigned ships, as was the procedure. He could see the confused crowd of Berserkers that no longer had ships to return to mingling about on the other tip of the crescent.
He felt his mood swing to happy and cheerful but stamped down on that. It took a ridiculous amount of effort, but Dagur needed to keep calm right now. He remained merely angry.
That was when blue fire started raining from the sky. This was something out of an apocalyptic nightmare. In other words, some of Dagur's more entertaining dreams. But not so entertaining when it was happening to his armada. Ships burst into flames as the many plasma blasts hit, strangely targeting only certain ships, those about halfway into the docks.
Dagur didn't restrain the amazed laugh he felt bubbling up. "Hiccup, you sneaky-" He was abruptly cut off by a plasma blast hitting a boat near where he was standing, deafening him. The sound of Night Fury shrieks now filled the night air, so many at once. So many.
He spotted Astrid standing helplessly nearby, waving her ax aimlessly. She seemed stunned by the volume of the noise.
Dagur made his way towards her. "Well, at least things aren't boring anymore!" He had to shout just to be heard over the shrieks and the occasional blast of plasma, sporadic but consistent now, hitting ships at random.
"How in Thor's name are there so many?!" Astrid was screaming in rage, looking around at the destruction.
"I know, it's amazing! So much firepower!" Dagur realized he had lost control, and quickly reasserted it. "But there has to be more to it than destroy randomly. There were people sinking ships in secret." He thought back. "Bog-Burglars, I guess."
"Where are they now? I want to fight something I can reach!" Astrid was still raging mad, helpless to stop the invisible assailants.
Dagur quickly took stock of the scene. His soldiers were helpless, the relative few with crossbows having nothing to aim at. They were reduced to trying to fight the fires that were being started. But about ten of his ships weren't blocked in by the few strategically located ships that had been the subject of the initial bombardment and were chasing after slimmer ships that had been hidden in the night. The Bog-Burglars, retreating now that their cover was blown. "Out of our reach now, but we have ships on their tail. So if you're lucky, we'll have some prisoners."
Astrid scowled. "We need to do something, not just stand around and take this."
"Agreed. Any ideas?" Dagur knew there was nothing he personally was needed for. Fighting fires was all his men could do, and they didn't need him to tell them how to do it. So he would see what his betrothed came up with.
"Yes." Astrid ran full speed to the group of Berserkers that had no ships and was currently emptying barrels of mead so that they could use them to fight the fires. Dagur followed, intrigued.
Astrid grabbed a crossbow from one of the Berserkers and threw it at Dagur. Then she took another along with two full quivers and turned to him.
Dagur caught the loaded crossbow and took a quiver, slinging it over his back. "Now what? We could shoot randomly, but I think you have more of a plan than that."
Astrid didn't answer, instead running to one of the larger taverns. She started climbing the side of the building, still carrying crossbow and ax.
"Impressive."
"Shut up and come on!" Astrid disappeared onto the roof.
Dagur shrugged. "Why not?" He quickly climbed to the roof, though he thought ahead and threw his ax up ahead of him. Once he had retrieved his ax from its spot embedded in the roof, he located Astrid. She was standing precariously at the highest point, looking to the sky above the docks.
He looked out the way she was staring. Fury plasma blasts were still raining down, though less frequently. With a maniacal chill, Dagur realized the Furies were waiting to target ships that had been put out already. Intelligent. But it gave him and Astrid a pattern to follow. "Astrid, they're relighting ships!" With that, he scrambled up to the highest point with her, balancing unsteadily. "Long way down..." He looked at the ground below. "I like it! No risk, no reward!"
Astrid turned to look at him, smiling as widely as he was. "Up here we don't have our night vision ruined by fire, and we know where to aim for. So get ready." She pointed at a ship that was just being returned to a non-fiery state. "That one."
Dagur nodded. "On it." He liked this plan.
A moment passed. Then another. Neither faltered, neither wavered in their vigil. Dagur knew Astrid would wait until the world ended if she thought it would give her a shot at a Night Fury. He would be here with her.
Then they heard a new screech, only distinguishable from the steady shrieking because it had just started. They both tensed. And, when they saw the beginnings of a plasma blast, they fired, Dagur slightly after Astrid.
There was a shriek of pain, but no Fury fell from its dive, and no Fury was seen anywhere, wounded or falling, but a second later, everything stopped. The blasts, the shrieks, the fire. Everything.
Astrid smirked. "We hit it, at lea-"
She was cut off by the loudest shriek either of them had ever heard. It had to be all of the Furies screaming in unison.
Dagur looked around. "Maybe we should move?" Without waiting for an answer, he slid down the roof and jumped off. He rolled as he hit the ground, absorbing the shock and keeping his momentum. He noticed Astrid beside him. She didn't stop to check on him but continued running. Not that he expected her to. They both had guessed what was coming, and there was no time.
He had only taken a few steps when half a dozen massive plasma blasts slammed into the roof of the tavern, where he and Astrid had been seconds ago. It was completely obliterated. "Yikes. That would have been quite a way to go."
Astrid looked around, scanning the sky. Nothing more could be heard, save the crackling of the many fires. "I think they're retreating. Such cowards. A single wound and they flee!"
Dagur wasn't so sure. "It's a tactical move. They've lost almost nothing."
"But so have we. These fires are mostly unimportant. Even the ships they set ablaze at the start can be easily repaired." Astrid grimaced. "How many did you say they sunk?"
"About six. Those aren't worth the effort of recovering to fix. This bay is deep." He didn't like that at all.
A few hours later, they learned that they had lost far more than six ships. None of the ten that had given chase ever came back. There weren't even floating wrecks of those. However, it wasn't all bad news. One Bog-Burglar ship was awkwardly piloted into the docks a few hours later.
Dagur and Astrid met the ship there. Dagur spoke. "Well, what happened?" His voice was cold.
The three Berserkers on board slumped, heads down. "It was an ambush. Twenty more ships hit us from the sides, and the Burglars turned and joined in. We think they lost one or two boats all told, but we lost all of ours. We managed to escape by taking this one and sailing it out. None of them noticed it was so crazy for a while."
Dagur scowled. "Any prisoners?"
The Berserker nodded, gesturing to the cabin of the ship. "We got a few because we just knocked them out and got out of there. We figured you would want them alive."
Astrid smiled grimly. "Yes, we do." She turned to Dagur. "What are the odds they've been to the Isle?"
Dagur smirked. "I'm sure we can find out. But I'd say they're pretty good. This raid was planned, and it had Hiccup's fingerprints all over it."
"Which means they had to plan it somewhere. Where better than an already secret place?" Astrid eyed the cabin. "Hiccup thinks he's gotten the best of us."
"So we find out where he lives from these fools... and burn it to the ground. Simple plan." Dagur laughed. "Good work men! I'll even let you live after fleeing battle!" He slapped the bewildered and frightened Berserkers on the back and ushered them off of the boat. Then he pushed them into the water. "Start swimming." He turned to a few nearby guards. "If these men step foot on this island again, kill them." He turned back to the boat. "Well, let's see what they know."
Reason for Removal: This whole battle, and the leadup, and the circumstances all changed, so it wasn't really in question. This scene does feature something we never got to see in the actual story, though; Dagur and Astrid working together in person, in a fight. I think it works well that they fought and failed alone in the final version of the story, because to Astrid it was never really a partnership so much as a convenience and means to an end, but something was lost all the same.
Also, in the first draft, Astrid was never captured and Heather didn't accidentally spill the beans for her. The much less strictly kept secret (in the first draft, all the allies had been to the Isle, which was just stupid) was obtained here.