Chapter One

Part One – First Day as Chief (The day after "Vikings of Berk: Alpha Dragons")

Hiccup;

When Hiccup first opened his eyes, he half- hoped that the previous day had just been a nightmare: Drago's attack, his father's death, the Alpha's death… The rest he could live with: Working on his map; his conversation with Astrid; finding his mother.
Those hopes vanished the moment he glanced at his desk, and saw the to- do list he'd written up the previous evening. It was real… It was all real; the good, and the bad: He was the Chief of Berk, now; and he had a village to run.

He leapt out of bed, and into Toothless's saddle; at the very least they could fit in a few laps of the island before they started their day. They 'chanced upon' Astrid and Stormfly, a third of the way through their first lap, and Hiccup had to smile as Stormfly rose to join them.

They flew in silence for a few minutes; than Astrid asked, "How're you doing?"

"As well as can be expected," Hiccup sighed. "A lot happened, yesterday; and…" He smiled, a little ruefully.

"What?" Astrid asked.

"Something my mom said, yesterday; that I've 'got the heart of a Chief, and the soul of a dragon'." Hiccup sighed. "A Chief spends a lot of their time in one place; while a dragon wants to fly free… A lot happened yesterday, and now I'm trying to adjust to the changes." He managed another smile, "I'll figure it out, though… We'll figure it out."

A few minutes later, Astrid smile turned a little shy, and her face turned a little pink, "Do you remember the evening after that Outcast Attack on the Dragon Arena, the day before you partnered the rest of us with our dragons?"
Hiccup nodded, and Astrid continued, "Just after you said you were thinking of making the six of us the first dragon- riders; I had this… daydream, of the two of us on dragons, flying in a clear sky…" Her face reddened, and she looked away.

She could almost 'hear' Hiccup grin, though. "Guess it came true, huh?"

"Yeah, it did." Astrid agreed. "You have any dreams like that you'd like to share?"

Hiccup chuckled, "Past 'few years', most of them are reruns of the days; just with a few of the battle- scenes removed." He winked at her, "Kind 'a hard to improve on them, to be honest; even in a dream!"
Astrid's blush deepened, and they settled into a comfortable silence.

An hour later;

By the time they got back to the village, the sun was fully up, and people were beginning to go about their daily business.

The first thing on Hiccup's list, today, was working in the forge; continuing the work that had had to be set aside, when Hiccup and Astrid brought word of Drago's arrival.
Between the common belief that the first day of a new Chief's reign was the dawn of a new era, and Hiccup's own reputation, well… People were already lining up, eager to have some piece of furniture that would sit in their home, as a reminder of a day that would go down in history.

Once they landed, Hiccup and Astrid made their way toward the forges. Hiccup paused, just before rounding the last corner; he was sure he'd heard…
He heard them again; raised voices: "I was here first" … "No, I was; I was here a full five minutes when you walked out your– " … "You were not!"

Hiccup sighed, and Astrid put a hand on his shoulder, "You'll do great, Hiccup… You always have!" A thought occurred to her, and she smiled, "Hiccup; would I be right to say you're looking at being 'Chief' as a job-job, now?"

Hiccup frowned, slightly, "It is a job…"

"It is," Astrid agreed. "But it won't be hard work; not for you! Like I said yesterday, you've been making plans and solving problems for years… I think you're expecting bigger, harder problems; but I doubt there'll be many like that, if any! These things come to you so easily, you think you should be working harder than you need to!" Her eyes met Hiccup's, "You'll see: when you go through your list, just… be yourself! That's…" she hesitated, and, in a softer voice, said, "That's who your father wanted to leave in- charge."

Hiccup considered her for a moment, while he processed her words, then he smiled, "I knew you were 'good', Astrid; but these past few days… you've outdone yourself!" He gave her a moment to process that, than added, "Shall we?"
A smile and nod was all Astrid could manage, than the two of them rounded the corner.

The clamor had been attracting more attention by the minute. By the time Hiccup and Astrid arrived, most of the village had gathered; Most of them stood in a line; craning their necks to get a view over the shoulders of those in front of them.

The crowd parted to let Hiccup, Astrid, and their dragons through, without pause; though there were twice as many people craning for a view once they had, and the volume dropped to near- silence. Whoever was first in line became a minor concern: They were about to see Hiccup in-action, diffusing his first internal- confrontation.

At the head of the line, Spitelout stood facing Rolph. Off to one side, Hiccup saw his mother, Gobber, Gustav, Eret – the one-time dragon- trapper, and several others. Hiccup exchanged nods of greeting with each of them in turn, and then turned to face the two men.
When they caught sight of Hiccup, Spitelout and Rolph turned to face him. Each pointed at the other, and, in perfect unison, said, "I was here first, but he's trying to skip–" They rounded on one another, "I was here first; you're the one trying to…"

Hiccup held up a hand, "Ok; call me a pessimist, but I think we're going to need an unbiased party here." Both Astrid and Valka smiled, but hid it quickly; and a ripple of amusement moved through the crowd, as Hiccup turned to them. "Who's next after these two?"

"That would be me," Fishlegs's mother stepped forward. "But they were both here when I arrived, so…" She shrugged, apologetically.

Hiccup nodded, "Ok; in that case…" He thought for a moment; then turned back to the two men. Gesturing to the assembled crowd, he said, "Take a look around; what do you see?"

The two men looked around, saw most of the village before them, and blinked; apparently unaware that such a large crowd had gathered. Spitelout shifted, "People."

"Who are…?" Hiccup prompted, nodding.

"Waiting in line," Rolph admitted.

"While the two of you…" Hiccup continued.

"Argue 'bout who's first, but…" Spitelout began.

Hiccup raised an eyebrow, "Doesn't seem quite fair, does it?" Both men shook their heads, awkwardly; Hiccup continued, "So, the way I see it, there are two options: One; you can both come up, and tell me what you need; both projects can be built in stages, and you can both receive them at the same time… or Two: both of you can move to the back of the line; the rest of us can be productive with our time; and the two of you will have plenty of time to decide which of you were here first." He waited for a moment, "Your pick."

Five seconds passed in silence, Spitelout and Rolph exchanged a look. Once again, the two men spoke in unison: "First choice."

Hiccup nodded; the corner of his lip twitched, "Interesting timing on the replies, today; are you sure the two of you haven't been rehearsing for this?"
There was another ripple of amusement at this, which the two men joined in; what tension remained quickly drained away, and the two men came forward.
As Hiccup turned back toward the forges, Valka smiled and gave him the shallowest of nods; Astrid smiled and winked. Gobber waited until he was between Hiccup and the crowd, and gave him the 'thumbs up'.

That afternoon,

After lunch, Astrid and the rest of Berks' "original" dragon- riders, and their dragons, went to the Dragon Arena; accompanied by their students. Hiccup had officially named Astrid Head Dragon- Trainer, in his absence; and she'd made Fishlegs the 'number- two'. (Needless to say: Snotlout was not pleased.)
Hiccup, meanwhile, was helping to organize and complete the last of the repairs to the more seriously damaged structures in the village.

About two hours later, a muffled explosion emanated from the Dragon- Training Arena. When Hiccup, and a number of other villagers, arrived, a few minutes later; Astrid had things 'more- or- less' under control… Save for the five or six versions of what, exactly, had happened. (Three of those versions seemed to have passed through Snotlout at some point; because each made him sound more heroic, and worthy of being in-charge, than the last.)

While the villagers who accompanied Hiccup and Toothless checked around for injuries; a few scrapes and bruises, but nothing major; Hiccup made his way across the arena, to join Astrid and Stormfly. Once things had settled down; Hiccup asked, "Astrid, can you tell me what happened, here?"

Before Astrid could speak, Snotlout pushed his way forward. "Ok; here's how it went down…"

Astrid made to speak; Hiccup held up a finger, and winked at her. "Snotlout; before you start, a quick question: Did you … change your name, to 'Astrid', and not tell anyone?"
Everyone in the arena, humans and dragons, burst out laughing; both at what Hiccup had said, and the expression on Snotlout's face.

"What … I … No!" Snotlout stammered.

Hiccup wiped his brow, in mock- relief. "Phew; that's a relief… I don't even want to think about how awkward that would've made my life, on a day- to- day basis." – The volume of laughter increased, noticeably.
Once everyone had calmed down, save for the occasional wave of chuckling, Hiccup picked up where he'd left off. "Now, Astrid…" He waited for the fresh wave of mirth to die down. "Could you tell me what happened?"

It took a few minutes, but the source of the confusion was quickly traced to a pair of over- eager Zipplebacks who'd breathed a cloud of gas into another part of the arena, where a group of Monstrous- Nightmares were shooting fire-blasts at targets.

By the end of the day, two things were absolutely clear… First: Hiccup had passed his 'first- day' challenges; no surprise there – he'd long- since earned the respect of the villagers. Second: Nobody was ever going to forget Hiccup's first full day as Chief.

Part Two – First- Strike {3 months later}

Shivering Shores; Midmorning,

The size and strength of the Shivering Shores' fleet was one of the most renowned in the Archipelagos, second only to the Berserkers' in reputation. And that only because the Shivering Shores Tribe did not share the Berserkers' virtually- insatiable appetite for battle. But the Berserkers' Tribe had fallen, and no enemy had risen to take their place.

'That,' the Chief of the Shivering Shores thought to himself, 'is half of the problem, right there; we've grown careless.' He glanced across the table at his eldest son, "Tell me, again, exactly what happened."

His son, who sat, glumly, in the chair across the table from his father, sighed; and began again, "We thought we were chasing a band of common pirates…" It was only a few hours before noon, but the twenty- three-year-old Viking boy looked as though he hadn't slept; most likely he hadn't.

Flashback to the previous evening;

It had been raining, but that was no deterrent for a Viking warrior. They'd been out on patrol when they'd sighted the unidentified vessels. Well… 'Unidentified' wasn't quite right: they could see the emblem on the mainsails, but it wasn't one they recognized as belonging to a Viking tribe; it was some kind of bird. There was another banner, too; one that bore the image of a legendary sea- monster: a Kraken.
There had been twelve enemy ships, against there thirty; so they had given chase… Their foe had crossed into their waters; they had every right to defend their territory.
Then they had rounded the point, and realized that they'd been lead into an ambush; the number of ships arrayed before them was beyond counting…
Then the enemy catapults went to work. The captains of the other boats had insisted that he, their Chief's son and heir, along with two other boats, fall- back to safety, while the rest covered their retreat.
The final tally: Eighteen ships badly damaged, though they managed to limp back to shore; Eight ships returned reasonably intact, though not undamaged; Six ships lost with all hands. No enemies had made landfall; but they might never have meant to, so that didn't mean much.

The Chief sighed, "You're sure of the size of this fleet, and that it came from the south?"

His son nodded, "For that many ships to gather from any other direction, even if they circled around… We'd have heard something."

The Chief sighed, "Than I don't see that we have much choice: We're under attack; that much is clear… We have to call a Council of Chiefs."

To Be Continued…