Right, sorry for the long wait! Life has been a bugger to me, and I've been focusing a lot on things. But no worries, because once again here is the next chapter!

Update 6/30/18: By the way, I should mention. As of now later in this story, the setting will return back to Norway due to specific events that will take place, though I won't spoil on why it happens or what will happen. Regardless though, it is now also another main setting. But don't worry! Berk will last for a very long while in this story.

Also, thanks to Mariah(Guest), thomaspheasant, HikariCruz, Tak(Guest), and BrawlerGamer for the reviews on the previous chapter!

Now then, let us continue our story!

Hiccup laid on his back as the longship sailed on it's own, following the tides and winds to wherever it would guide him. He was curled in his furred cloak, feeling snow and rain hit his face as a northern chill flew over him like dust. He looked up towards the map he was given, closely inspecting it from island to island and from sea to sea.

But as he read the map, the item alone reminded him of Magnus, and what horror he was likely going through right now at the hands of Ivar. Though even as these sad thoughts would fill him he would find his eyes tearless and instead filled with empty thought…

For days Hiccup had been traveling alone by sea, keeping the direction of the longship and sail pointed Northwest to where the Archipelago was supposed to be, however most of the days he'd gone through by far were foggy, and navigation proved difficult to him.

"I wonder what it's going to be like there." he said to himself. "There was the mention that there'd be Dragons, though I can't see that as a reality, I mean they're just mythical creatures. Winged beasts that shoot and breath fire… right?"

He arched a brow in thought, still letting his mind flow through with what he was told about the Archipelago. "And this island; Berk." he continued. "What kind of people will I meet there? Who is this Gobber? And who is their Chieftain? ...Gah! I have too much to ask myself."

The young Viking threw the map aside, giving a sigh as he looked up in the sky - his eyes closed and mind flowing through.

"Hmph." he chuckled to himself. "Who knows if there really are Dragons in the Archipelago. If so, then my time there will be a Hel of a lot fighting. Unless…"

Suddenly his mind was lost in a brainstorm, and he began to think on the dream he had the night before. He remembered seeing himself in one scene standing on a deserted and blackened island of ash and rock, before seeing the shadow of a dragon charge him. And then the other scene was him looking out over a grassy cliff, staring at the bright blue sky.

Yet out of those two, the third one was what caught his attention the most. He remembered seeing himself ride atop a black Dragon with dark night-like scales. It flew like a majestic creature, swiftly and smoothly through the air like a bird. Perhaps that connects to what he'll see when he arrives? Only the gods would know.

But regardless, Hiccup kept his thought on where the Archipelago, and specifically where Berk might be according to the map. He would keep going Northwest, even if that meant sailing to the ends of the earth, and as his thoughts continued to flood him he slowly allowed himself to give in to rest, eventually falling asleep to the sound of the tides, winds, rain, and snow.

…

His dream made his vision blurry. All around he had no idea where he was or what was going on at first. The only thing he could hear was a pair of shackles being moved around in what seemed to be… a cage. Not from him, but from someone else.

Hiccup tried to call out, but he found himself being unable to say anything. All that he let out was a big breath of hot air. He then tried to move, but was barely able to. What was this dream he was in?

Suddenly he began hearing what seemed to be footsteps at first, but as the sound became more clear to him he released it was just hitting of wood against wood, and as his vision started to clear up he saw a figure crawling towards him, with small wooden walkers used with his hands to drag himself.

It was Ivar.

He could easily see the disgruntled and pissy face that the Viking Chieftain had. It was obvious that he expected Magnus would've been loyal to him after all this time, but it seemed that was no longer the case now that the former smithy had freed his assistant from being a thrall - a slave… with a price.

As Hiccup's vision cleared even more he could make out the silhouette of a man sitting in the cage, bruised and beaten. He had cuts across his face, and some of his clothes remained tattered.

"Wake up, traitor." growled Ivar. "It's time you let me in on your little secret."

Hiccup's eyes widened as his face lit up. It soon became clear that the man sitting in the cage was his friend who for his entire life defended and stood up to him. Magnus laid in Ivar's clutches.

"Ivar?" the older Viking groaned. "You won't get away with this…"

Ivar chuckled. "Get away with what? Me catching you with a desire to execute you? I already have. You are the only one responsible."

"No… you still forgot one."

Ivar's brow arched. "Oh great, now you are going to speak in riddles, aren't you? Or are you saying that I forgot about your wretched friend Hiccup?"

"No… my other friend."

Ivar gave a quick smirk, lightly chuckling again before he took the jagged bottom of one of his wooden walkers and gave a quick gouge to Magnus' foot. The former smithy in response hissed in pain, taking it like a man.

"So someone else was helping you, then?"

Magnus nodded. "She escaped the conflict when a dozen of your guards were slain by us. Before your puppet Slavemaster came and took me in."

"Where is she?"

Magnus didn't respond. He just stared at Ivar with an emotionless expression, almost as if he didn't care anymore about his own life. Even if he told the Chieftain or not he would be executed either way.

"ANSWER THE QUESTION, WRETCH!"

Still, there was no response from the former blacksmith. Ivar spun his head in a circle, cracking and relaxing the knuckles in his neck as his gaze on Magnus turned into a further devil-like look.

"Very well." the Chieftain responded coldly. "If you won't give me any answers, I'll make you do it myself." From his boot he unsheathed a dagger and began running it from Magnus' foot to his knee cap where he gave a small stab, causing the young man to squint in pain.

"Oh, and just so you know." he continued. "If you think your little friend will get away easily, you are terribly mistaken. Once I find this Archipelago, I will find your runt Hiccup, and I will claim my prize as I impale his head on a spike and place it outside the gates of Kattegat."

"You can try."

Ivar cackled, pointing the dagger closer and higher to the Viking near his stomach. "Oh, I certainly will. Now, let's begin…"

Hiccup shook his head on sight. With all the will and strength he had he tried moving himself and found that he was now running towards Magnus and Ivar, screaming out his friend's name. He got closer to the two Vikings, he jumped in the way and then…

He woke up.

He awoke and quickly felt water hitting his face hard as the wind blew heavily, followed by the sound of thunder echoing after lightning struck above him. Wasting no time he stood on his feet and gazed all around him, soon realizing that he was sailing in the middle of a thunderstorm.

Immediately Hiccup's adrenaline began to rush. "Bah!" he grunted. "Is this what I deserve after escaping to search for my freedom? Is this what I get from the mighty God of thunder and lightning himself?"

After saying those words a bolt of strong lightning struck near him and the longship he was on, with a loud boom of thunder rattling all around. Whether it was convenience, or the actual God by the name of Thor striking him - he did not know. The only thing he knew right now was that the winds were blasting him off course.

Hiccup stood on both feet and rush to the knot that kept the sail together, but found that it was loosen from the rain and heavy winds. In attempt to save it from floating away or becoming too loose he used what strength he had and began to re-tie the rope altogether, though this proved to be challenging as he had to pull down on the sail at the same time to prevent it from flying away.

Eventually however, he did succeed in reestablishing the knot, and he was able to move on with the sail intact. "C'mon, lass. Keep it together!" he called out before a raising brow as he asked himself; "Did I actually call this ship a lass? I'm getting too ahead of myself…"

Reaching the steering oar Hiccup began to pull on it tightly and with all that he had. The longship was still going off course, and even with the sail fixed he couldn't follow the Northwestern winds since they were by this point having a fiasco, blowing in different directions. North, West, South, East, and so forth.

He continued pulling hard on the steering oar, keeping his hands firm and together as he squeezed and pull. He squeezed and squeezed and pull until finally something happened. Lightning once more struck, this time directly hitting the oar and destroying it as a burst of flames exploded outwards.

Hiccup fell on his rear from the impact, hissing at the pain as a couple small splinters of sharp wood flew at his left leg, leaving him only being able to limp. Without the steering oar, the situation began looking hopeless to him as the longship started spinning out of control.

He turned his head to the right and noticed the woolen blanket and the map scattered near the satchel which Magnus gave him. His gaze was taken away as he let out a grunt, standing back to his feet and limping over to the objects to gather them.

"I can't… lose these…" he groaned, grabbing both objects with his arms and putting them in the satchel wholesome. He then wrapped the small bag around his waist before proceeding to make his way to the base of the mast. He grabbed ahold of the large wooden pole and looked out to sea.

There was nothing.

The only thing that his sight provided him was the view of churning tides and waves along with a fog on the horizon that shown from a hundred yards away, and it was all around him on every direction.

Seeing the situation now hopeless, Hiccup grasped his right hand onto what remained of the rope that kept the sail together and held on tight. He closed his eyes shut, thinking that now he would never see the chance of freedom in life, but rather in death where the Gods watched all at the table of Kings. In the hall of curved horns and endless meat, accompanied by the warming fires that would stand before the storm of Ragnarok comes, where countless warriors of the past sit and wait.

"Odin, take me to Valhalla." he said to himself, and his world immediately turned black as he felt something hard hit him against his head…

…

Hiccup's vision slowly started to come back to him, but his eyes remained closed and he didn't move an inch. He felt… softness against his back and head, and the warmth of wool and cloth covered him from his waist to his feet. He was lying down in a bed, but where was he?

"Is he even still alive?" said a young man's voice. "The poor guy looks like he took a beating out there."

"I don't know." replied another voice, this time a young woman's. "He has quite the sized cuts on his left leg, and there are bruises all over him… though I don't recognize him."

"Maybe he came from Berserker Island?"

"Tuff, I highly doubt he is among Dagur's Tribe. If he was, we would've seen him before, or Dagur and Heather would've told us."

"Astrid's got a point. And besides… I don't think a scrawny-like figure would be fit in his Tribe. That is if he has skill in fighting."

Hiccup listened. His ears wide and opened as a group of what seemed to be five people sounding his age continued discussing, though he kept his eyes shut. So far there were three men and two women, at least according to how he counted.

"Maybe he's from Mogadon's Tribe? The Meatheads?"

"I don't think so, Ruff. I mean, we know that Mogadon is a hearty man and sometimes arrogant like Stoick, but his characteristics don't really… match. Most of the Vikings I've seen on Meathead are more muscular than most of us."

"Whoa. Even you, Snotlout?"

"...Perhaps so, Ruffnut. Though definitely not our Chief."

"So then what Tribe is he from? Any ideas… Astrid?"

"No idea, Fishlegs… in fact, truth be told now that I think about it; I don't believe he is even from around here. He could've come here from outside the fog bank. Maybe from the North?"

"What? He surely can't be a Dragon Hunter."

"Wouldn't say that he is, Heir. Though who said he wasn't?"

Hiccup unnoticingly raised his brows in confusion. Dragon Hunters? Berserkers? Meatheads? Who in the name of Midgard were these people?

"Whoa, Tuff. What are you doing?" asked who Hiccup by this point knew was Snotlout, the Heir of whatever Tribe or island he was on.

The sound of hands gripping against wood along with metal hitting the palm of one of the young Viking's hands was clear to him as Tuffnut said; "I'm going to deal with this, my Heir. There is no need to worry." he chuckled.

"But he's injured, you can't just-"

"This is the right thing to do, Snotlout. Just watch. Hehehe…"

That was it. If Hiccup was about to be bashed on the head by a mace, stabbed in the chest with a sword, or axed apart as a joke then he would not sit there like a downed bird and wait to be preyed on. He reached down to where his sheathed weapon was, hoping to the gods it was still there, and to his luck it was.

His adrenaline soon began to rush, and he lowered his brows in anger as he quickly opened his eyes unnoticingly. He then threw the blanket off his waist and unsheathed his sword, pointing it outwards on the figure that was nearest to him who was about to advance on him with a mace in hand. As blade raised near his neck.

The young Vikings were startled as they jumped back, looking at the injured figure who breathed intensely and held a weapon in hand.

Hiccup growled at Tuffnut. "If you want to do what's best for you, then put that mace down, barbarian."

Tuff backed up as he dropped his mace, raising his hands in the air. Hiccup then slowly stood out of bed with his sword still in hand, pointed towards the group of Vikings he could now easily make out, though one of them caught his attention.

It was a blonde girl, her eyes blue and her skin very light. She wore a blue sleeveless cloth tunic, along with leathery leggings, boots, and mailed-plate shoulder-guards. He wondered who she was, but quickly shoved it aside and went back on his focus.

"Stay, away, from me." he told them. "I'm warning you, I want no trouble! I've had enough with facing Vikings who've wanted to kill me for their own desires. I won't be killed by you barbarians-"

"Easy." the young woman said, stepping forward with her hands raised in front. "We found you on shore with a ruined longship, so we decided to take you in and tend your wounds. You have no enemies here. We are not barbarians."

Hiccup raised one of his brows as he groaned in pain. His strength quickly failed him and he dropped his sword to the ground, but not before he was caught by the blonde lady and the muscular young man as they wrapped their arms around his shoulders.

"You must have taken a beaten." said Snotlout, calmly placing Hiccup back on the bed. The scrawny Viking gave a nod in response.

"All I wanted to do was find Berk." he said, giving a sigh of frustration. "Find my freedom and escape the clutches of my enemy who are now after me."

Everyone's eyes widened. Especially Snotlout's, and they started to exchange looks with one another. "Well, this is Berk." responded the blonde lady. "Though the question for us is; who are you?"

Hiccup looked up at them. "...My name is Hiccup."

"Hiccup… who?"

He sighed. "Just Hiccup. I never really knew my true origin, thus I am what I am…"

The young lady gave a nod. "Well, you gave us your name. Now I'll give ours. My name is Astrid. That is Fishlegs, Tuffnut, Ruffnut, and our Heir; Snotlout Jorgenson."

"A pleasure." smiled Snotlout.

Hiccup let out a soft breath, looking around the room he sat in. The construction of the hut he was in was not familiar. The wood was a more auburn-like color, and on the walls there were shields and other decoratives he never saw before.

"So… I'm in the Archipelago, then?"

"Yup." nodded Fishlegs. "Twelve days north and located solidly on the Meridian of Misery."

"And where do you come from?" asked Astrid. "Are you by chance from outside the fog bank? Maybe from one of the Tribes found out there?"

Hiccup shook his head. "I am nowhere from here." he answered them. "I come from a land covered in rain and snow, always cloudy and always grey. A land of never-ending war and conflict between greater and inferior. I come from the Viking occupied lands of Norway, found in Scandinavia."

"Scandinavia?" asked Fishlegs, his eyes clearly widened. "We thought those lands were just a myth, that they didn't exist. But- wait, how did you find your way here?"

"An old friend lended me a hand. And a map." sighed Hiccup. "Those in Norway never thought the Archipelago existed either, but there is no way in Helheim I am ever going back."

"Why? Aren't you from there?"

Hiccup shook his head. "Norway was never my home." he replied. "For my entire life I sought escape. I've been beaten, tortured, humiliated, and stripped of my humanity by Vikings. I was nothing but a runt and a waste."

Astrid gave a face of concern and confusion. "What are you talking about?" she asked him. "How could you have been beaten all your life? Aren't the Tribes of Scandinavia like those in the Archipelago-"

"I was a slave. A thrall." he answered.

Everyone turned their attention away from Hiccup, facing each other in even further confusion, and most of all concern for the young man. The life which Hiccup described was something they never heard or experienced from their own lifestyle. Slavery was outlawed and forbidden in most of the Archipelago Tribes, including Berk. What kind of land did he come from? What kind of sick and twisted civilization did he live among that desired and craved war?

Snotlout fixed a stare upon the scrawny Viking. "I'm- sorry for you, Hiccup…" he said. "If there's anything I can do though, just tell me. I'll be happy to allow you to stay at Berk for the time being, and if I can convince Stoick to let you stay permanently then you might as well consider the Hooligan Tribe to be your Tribe, and for Berk to be your home."

Hiccup's grin quickly widened. "Thank you, Heir." he said with a hearty tone. "I never thought that I would ever meet such reasonable Vikings like yourselves. You have my gratitude."

Snotlout gave a chuckle. "Just call me Snotlout, Hiccup. It's not like I'm some sort of King."

Hiccup bowed his head. "Hmph. Well… I want to ask something."

"By all means, anything." replied Snotlout.

"I just wanted to ask… is there a man on your island named Gobber?"

Now, I know what some of you are thinking: 'Artificer, why is Snotlout so nice to Hiccup, and why is he less arrogant?' All I can say is that there will be a reason explained in the next or a later chapter. Since Snotlout went through aging, he also went through maturity as well as more that like I said will be explained. But for now, what you see is what you see, and I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter!