XIV.
The chief of Berk stepped aboard Drago's vessel.
His long, brown fur cape brushed behind him, gently tipping the backs of his boots, as his feet clomped heavily aboard the main deck. Men clad up to their necks in animal pelts, more fur than human flesh visible, stood at attention on either side of Stoick and the handful of Hairy Hooligans who followed behind him. The half dozen representatives Stoick chose included Gobber – as custom – but also Astrid, who insisted on knowing all the details about Hiccup's rescue, to the point he bypassed her low position and level of experience and allowed her to come. She stood beside Eret glaring unchecked at every human being besides her own Hooligans. At least she left the axe back on The Sparrowhawk.
Stoick frowned beneath his brows and swept his eyes over Drago's entire vessel. He caught sight of the heavy, black chains rigged about the ship, the blowguns and crossbows handled by various men and women on deck, and the hulking, shadowy form standing completely still on the far side of the ship. Stoick knew immediately this was their chief, Drago Bludvist.
Stoick had once before met Drago and considered the man distasteful, though in all the long years since their introduction, he had never quite placed the reason for his malcontent; perhaps the greed in Drago's deep brown eyes appeared too intent, or the scars on his face bode ill. Certainly, the massive man standing on deck now seemed somehow threatening even as he stood perfectly idly. His presence radiated gloom. Either way, though, truly threatening or simply physically intimidating, Stoick knew now that an alliance with this little-known Drago Bludvist would increase his odds at saving Hiccup from the Vigilante.
Unwelcome memories of a female dragon rider entered unbeckoned into Stoick's mind. Odin's ghost, why has it come to this? Wearied, he rubbed a ham-sized hand to his brow before advancing forward to speak to Drago. He knew what needed be done.
He predicted others would call him brash or war-hungry for the alliance he planned to make today, yet he could hide his face no longer from the issue of the Vigilante. To bunker down and wait out any potential dragon attacks initially seemed the wisest course of action, and he would have held firmly to it, if not for the incident involving his own son. Yet for Hiccup, Stoick would be willing to enter a war head-on.
No turning back now, in any case. He stood aboard a foreign vessel, planning to speak his course of action to another Viking chief.
And there that Viking chief stood.
Drago Bludvist matched Stoick's height, girth, and impressive display of muscle on his one uncovered arm. Drago's mass of black dreadlocks, though, was nothing like would be seen on Berk. His skin appeared darkened, almost suggesting he came far from the south, but his eyes spoke of familiarity with the northern seas. Brown eyes stared out intensely from a heavily scarred face, though he approached Stoick with a broad enough smile to somewhat compensate.
Eret stood to Stoick's left side and stepped forward, seemingly apprehensively, to explain Stoick's arrival. "Drago," he said, eyes not quite meeting the chief's, "this man says he can, uh, help with the Vigilante."
Drago took immediate interest in the red-bearded chief of Berk.
"Stoick the Vast, Chief of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe," he said as simple means of introduction.
"Drago Bludvist, Chief of the Visithugs," the other man answered, just as candidly. Drago entered straight into the conversation, leaving formalities quickly behind. "You, too, wish to rid the archipelago of this dragon-riding scum?"
"She has taken my son," Stoick said. "For that, we plan to mount an attack."
Drago assessed the direction from which Stoick's ships had sailed, then calculated the direction they would continue. "Up north? To her fortress?" He glanced sideways at Eret, as though knowing that the dragon trapper had informed them of the Vigilante's approximate location. He frowned. "That is madness. No one can stand up against her dragons, let alone directly attack her stronghold."
"Except for those who have dragons of their own." To mention Berk's dragons was a gamble – Stoick hardly knew how Drago would react hearing he, too, could control dragons – but it was one he had to admit were he and Drago to work together.
The other man's eyes narrowed, but his face displayed no other reaction. It remained unreadable but dour. "Perhaps. Perhaps you are right." Drago's voice was constantly low and gruff, and it took on an even lower, darker tone at that final comment. "But how would this attack benefit us? You want to save one of your own, but all that aggression will do is anger the Vigilante against my people. We are hard-pressed as –"
"From what I've heard, she has already been attacking your people for years. That won't change. But to fight on the offensive," Stoick reasoned grimly, "is a chance to take a major blow against her. It's not something you could do alone, but together, we could sustain enough damage to make the Vigilante retreat, even if just for a time."
Both of them could hear Gobber mutter some commentary in the background, "Yeesh, I haven't seen the chief this aggressive since he went off sailing to fight the Red Death." Thankfully, Stoick could also hear another individual encouraging Gobber to shut his trap. He did.
Drago's eyes drifted from Gobber's back to Stoick's, ground his teeth beneath his lips, and then finally opened his mouth to declare, "Yes. We will fight."