I don't own How to Train Your Dragon.
On another note, I am sorry it's taken me so long to get this chapter out, but I wanted to focus
The Dragon Pirate.
As he walked through the streets of the village, Stoick the Vast honestly did not know how he was able to hold his head high; but as the chief of the island he had ruled for so long on top of being a veteran dragon killer although the need for that particular skill was no longer really needed nowadays since the war had ended, it was second nature for Stoick to perform his rounds with his head held high.
It had nearly been two years since the end of the war which had torn up the lives of thousands of Viking families over the last three centuries, and for the last year and a bit, Hiccup had been the Dragon Pirate.
He had raided dozens of islands, attacked and plundered the wares of dozens of merchants and traders throughout the archipelago. When the boy had begun, a part of Stoick had been afraid the anger of the other Vikings Berk was allied with. But Berk had been one of those islands that Hiccup had attacked and raided more than once, but what startled dozens of Vikings was how good Hiccup was at what he was doing out there, almost as though he had been a pirate his entire life.
He was better than any of the conventional pirate raiders out there marauding around the archipelago, but with that dragon there came certain benefits since it was well-known dragons were faster than boats and longships which had to cope with storms, waves, and numerous other hazards.
With such a speedy steed at his disposal Hiccup had quickly become the terror of the archipelago. It had become so bad numerous Viking mothers, or so he was told, had begun scaring their children that if they didn't do as they were told, the Dragon Pirate would snatch them in the middle of the night, scaring them with stories of the Night Fury.
Stoick honestly had no idea if he should laugh or weep since the thought of Hiccup, a boy who had never once lifted his fist to anybody in his life even though he had probably hoped he had the same strength of kids like Fishlegs and Snotlout so he could fight back, but looking back now and whenever he visited Gobber at his forge (he was worried about his old friend, just like Gobber was worried for him; Gobber hadn't yet chosen his new apprentice, but Stock knew his friend well enough to guess the blacksmith was going to wait until some other kid came along that would be perfect for the role, and so Stoick decided to leave it up to Gobber since it was his area), he sometimes came across the things Hiccup had drawn.
Even now it still astonished Stoick just how much Hiccup had been able to dream up, it was almost as though his brain which was much more radical and seemingly bigger than even Gobber's, or one of those other Vikings who had designed the compound that made up the former Kill Ring in the cliff, to come up with new and more imaginative contraptions. And all he had needed to design them was just a bit of knowledge in carpentry and forging, and he was off.
And I didn't see it because I was blind with frustration at ma son's talents and hurting 'cause of Valka's passing, Stoick thought to himself, cursing himself for his past mistakes.
Why was it every idea Hiccup had come up with over the years was instantly ridiculed, smashed to the ground, laughed at and used to humiliate him? The answer was quick.
No-one, not even Stoick who was the boy's father and the one looking out and encouraging his son's gifts, had believed in anything Hiccup had come up with, but that was mostly because whatever Hiccup had built, those fangled war machines ended up causing more damage to the village; Stoick closed his eyes in shame, mentally kicking himself for not listening to his son's excuses and apologies over the years as Hiccup had grown older.
As Stoick continued with his rounds, he headed towards the part of the village that Hiccup had raided the last time. He had personally seen his own son, the same son whom he had disowned, riding that black dragon, the same demon he had wanted to kill seemingly a lifetime ago when all of the things he had believed in had been so much simpler.
His son had been wrapped in a long black cloak that was ragged and a black mask that disguised and protected his features, though if the stories about Hiccup's new life were true, and Stoick still wasn't sure about some of them since many of them seemed too fantastic even for Hiccup, then the old Viking chief was unsurprised.
While many of the stories about Hiccup were probably really really bad exaggerations, Stoick doubted the story about his son being held prisoner by the Outcasts was an exaggeration.
When he had heard the story of what had happened to his son…. Stoick could not help himself, but he had found himself unsurprised Hiccup had gone over the deep end. Who wouldn't if they had been maimed in such a terrible manner?
Hearing how his son had been captured by the Outcasts had been bad enough since he knew Alvin would not let up on finding out everything he could about the skills Hiccup had gathered about training dragons, and maybe even more; Stoick wouldn't have put it past Alvin to have found out about Hiccup's quest to liberate all the dragons still held in captivity in the Kill Rings scattered on the various tribal islands, and the Outcast would have wanted to know everything Hiccup knew about the different defences of each so then he could raid, pillage and destroy the different tribes, but finding out Alvin had gone so far as to rip out one of Hiccup's eyes… No wonder Hiccup had become a pirate. Stoick could not blame his son for that.
As Stoick walked through the village, he noticed that some of the Viking warriors, particularly the younger generations, were not as respectful as some of the others, and even the ones that did only showed a mediocre amount of respect for him. It upset him but it didn't surprise him since many found his desire to get Hiccup back to Berk to be questionable, and more than one warrior had boldly asked him, their chief, if he was losing his mind at last since Hiccup was not just seen as a traitor for cavorting with dragons, but he was also a pirate who was responsible for plundering various islands.
Only a few Vikings - Gobber and Gothi among them - knew what he was going through. He had lost his family, but unlike with Valka who had been snatched in the middle of a dragon raid long ago and had probably been reduced to fine powder by now in some dank cave on that Thor be damned island that had been the home to that giant abomination, he had shoved Hiccup away simply because he had found a friend in a dragon, an enemy of Vikings everywhere. He had disowned his son, and he had made plans at the back of his mind that when and if he returned from the final hunt for the nest, he would drop the Night Fury's head into his former son's lap out of sadistic pleasure but also pain that Hiccup would shame and disgrace him and their family in such a manner, and personally shove him into a boat where he would fend for himself.
Stoick had not bothered or cared to think about the cruelty of the plan, but life was cruel and it was time for Hiccup to finally learn that - no more inventions, no more betrayal, no dragons or flying on the beasts.
Stoick held back the urge to sigh as he passed near the teens, noting their more visible disrespect though Fishlegs didn't seem to care as he read his copy of the dragon book (why he was so fascinated in reading and reading the same book over and over again, Stoick had no idea, and if he were honest he didn't care, but he'd noticed the hefty Ingerman kid seemed to be sporting a few bruises on his face that seemed more excessive than the average roughhousing encouraged amongst young Vikings), but he noticed the angry expression on Astrid's face and the clueless expressions on the twins' faces, while Snotlout looked at him with barely masked contempt. Stoick had noticed Spitelout's own sneers, but the other Viking was older and cannier than his son, who didn't even bother to hide what he was thinking or feeling from others.
He wasn't stupid. He knew Spitelout believed he was losing it, but he wished Snotlout would be more discreet.
In the end, aware nothing he said or did at this point since Hiccup was not here and none of his hunts to try and find his own and find a way to come up with a plan so no harm would come to him had worked, Stoick just went on his rounds. He was going on another hunt tomorrow morning for his son, and while all the arrangements had been made he was still having problems with some of the Vikings whom he wanted to keep an eye on in case they tried to take his island during his absence.
What happened to him? Astrid thought to herself as she glared at the chief's back as she watched him lumber away, knowing like everyone else the chief had ordered preparations for another hunt for the traitor. She sneered at the thought of the chief bringing back the traitor, and not doing the right thing, which was performing the Blood Eagle on him which was what every other tribe out there wanted to do for his actions against them.
Why couldn't the chief realise his son was a traitor, that he was not a Viking, and that he needed to be killed to put an end to these raids? What the Hel had happened to Stoick the Vast, she wondered to herself. He had been the perfect leader - decisive, strong, but now he was very weak-minded because he wanted Hiccup to come back, blissfully forgetting or ignoring Hiccup was wanted dead by virtually everyone in the archipelago.
It was at that moment Astrid had an epiphany. It would go against everything the chief had ordered of her, not to leave the island after banning her after that disaster on Nadder's Point. But she did not care.
She looked around at her friends, wishing she didn't need them but she did for this because she could not handle a longship by herself.
"I'm not going to stand for this," she declared, gazing fiercely at each one of them while she clenched her fist around her axe handle. "Our chief," she spat the title disrespectfully to make her contempt clear, "thinks Hiccup should come back to the island, but he's a traitor. Well, I'm going out there looking for him."
"Y-you can't do that, A-Astrid," Fishlegs said meekly, "remember S-Stoick's orders…"
What makes you think I care? she thought, about to open her mouth to give him the worst verbal beating of his life, but someone else got there first before the words even left her mouth.
"I don't care about his orders," Snotlout, surprisingly put in.
"Hiccup is a threat to our way of life, Fishlegs," Astrid glared at Fishlegs angrily, wishing she had punched the massive oaf herself. The twins, and Snotlout, missing their usual punching bag, had turned their attention to Fishlegs. They knew if nature had been less kind to him and he had remained small, then they would have taken great pleasure in beating two runts, but alas they'd only had one.
Astrid wished she had beaten Fishlegs because it would have gone a long way of making the oversized intellectual more afraid of her than he was in real life, but she had considered beating Fishlegs and indeed, Hiccup, as being beneath her. But there was still time to rectify that. Ignoring Fishlegs for the time being, she turned to the others.
"What about you?" she challenged.
Snotlout instantly got up, grinning at her lasciviously. "I'll definitely come with you, babe," he grinned.
While the thought of Snotlout flirting with her filled her with disgust, Astrid turned to the twins, knowing precisely what their answer would be. "What about you two?"
Ruffnut and Tuffnut glanced at each other before turning back to her.
"It's crazy," Rufnut declared.
"It's insane!" Tuffnut leered.
"We're in!" the two insane twins finished.
Astrid resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the twins' madness, but she was thankful for their support in this. She would need everyone she could get to go after Hiccup.
"What about you?" she glared at Fishlegs, making him quail in terror. The sight alone made Astrid sneer mentally. Fishlegs had been born a Viking, but it was clear that he was not a Viking, but there were differences between him and Hiccup; Fishlegs had accepted Viking culture whereas Hiccup had not. It was just that simple.
Well. It would be if the large fool accepted.
"Well, Fishlegs?" Astrid went on menacingly, lifting her axe for emphasis, not even worried about the other villagers going about their business. The villagers regularly communicated with their weapons, so they weren't worried about Astrid threatening Fishlegs, and if the bigger teen could not fight back, well it was his problem they figured.
The sight the sharpened metal blade which was hovering menacingly near him made the sweat trickle down Fishleg's face, disgusting the onlooking teens, but he sharply nodded. Astrid lowered her axe, glaring at him with a superior smirk of satisfaction.
"But," Ruffnut went silent as she looked seriously between her brother and then back at Astrid, "how are we going to find him?"
Astrid looked at the twin with a fierce look, inwardly wondering the same question herself. "We're just going to look," she said as confidently as she could before she handed out her orders, mentally cursing the gods that she had to work with others once more. "Snotlout, go to your father and find out if he knows anything else about Hiccup. Get to the docks as fast as you can."
"Right," Snotlout lumbered away while Astrid turned to the others, though she had no intention of trusting Fishlegs. "C' mon, you three," she said to them, "we've got a ship to steal."
Getting to the docks was very easy. With the day to day tasks at the docks, while the fishermen were working out at sea to replenish Berk's fish stocks, there weren't that many ships in the harbour, so it was a clear line to the longship that had been prepared for the chief.
Stoick had no idea how long it would take to find Hiccup, so he'd spent days organising the provisions of the ship; it was loaded down with bread, meats, vegetables, and fishes which was one of the reasons why the fishermen had left to replenish the stocks - another sign of the chief losing his mind, Astrid thought to herself since in the past Stoick had never in all of his life wasted so much food.
While they waited for Snotlout to arrive, Astrid tried to mentally sort through her plans and her ideas, but she didn't have long since Snotlout came running towards them.
He tried to speak a few times about what he'd found, but his lack of proper exercise meant he was reduced to panting while she waited impatiently.
Finally, he got out, "My dad knows what we're doing, and he's encouraging us, but he doesn't have any idea about where the fishbone is," he said.
Astrid was taken aback for a moment, but she was relieved someone had some sense. "Okay, get on board… All of you!"
The teenagers boarded the longship and Astrid cut the moorings with Snotlout and Tuffnut's aid while Ruffnut and Fishlegs grabbed the oars to pull away from the dock.
"Start rowing!" Astrid ordered the others, knowing it wouldn't take long before the rest of the tribe realised what they were doing; they needed to put a lot of distance between them and Berk if this was going to work.
They had managed to pull away from the dock when Astrid caught sight of one of the dock workers looking up for a moment, gazing at astonishment at the longship pulling away while he looked in disbelief. "Someone get the chief, QUICK!" he yelled, his call of alarm making everyone look to see what the problem was.
Astrid smirked when a few minutes later the chief himself came to the dock, but they had all pulled away at the oars so hard they were a fair distance from the dock, but they could hear Stoick's voice from where they were.
"GET THAT SHIP BACK HERE, NOW!'
Astrid turned to the others. "We go on," she said as they continued to pull away at the oars, and as they eased their bodies into the repetitive exercise, she knew that when they got back, if they came back empty-handed then they would be in for it, but she pushed that thought aside for the time being as she continued to row.
Soon, Hiccup, she thought malevolently to herself, I will find you….