"Look, just… Try not to move"

Hiccup was straining to close the door of the cabin, trying to stuff the dragon into the tiny compartment with minimal injuries to the both of them. He pushed against Astrid's hind leg, trying to squeeze them far enough so the door would shut. The saddle scraped against the roof as she tried to ball up and conserve space. She moaned again, clearly at odds with the whole situation.

"We have to get you in, we're almost there."

Astrid's leg twitched and the door swung open again. She snorted in annoyance.

"The Jarl's men will kill us if they see you, you have to hide. Now let me…"
Hiccup gritted his teeth and focused all of his strength into shutting the door. Astrid shuffled further into the cramped room, and the door began to squeeze shut, inch by inch. Hiccup grunted with the effort, digging his feet into the deck so he wouldn't slip. It was almost fully closed, but he was tiring.

"I can't… it's not going anymore."

Stoick reached out with a single hand and pressed the door shut, the latch sliding into place. Wordlessly, he turned back to steering the boat. Hiccup tried to look through a crack in the wooden wall, but all he could see was a mass of black scales, shifting to and fro in the darkness

"Are you okay in there?"

A deep, guttural growl sent vibrations through the deck. He could have sworn that she said something sarcastic. Gobber chuckled from the front of the boat, apparently a lot more relaxed now that the dragon had been safely put away.

"It's not long now laddie, Marauder's Bay is just past the twins, a mile or so. Once we've got things sorted we can let you out. Ya hear that Hofferson-Fury? Night…Astrid?

There was muffled roar from within the cabin. Astrid was irritated already, Gobber was just a bonus.

As they approached the entrance to a large Fjord, Hiccup looked around in wonder. Two mountains stood either side of the opening into the sea, and they mirrored each other almost exactly. West, towards the ocean, was a sheer drop, with grey and weathered rocks jutting out in irregular intervals. Hiccup could see the seabird swooping and diving around their perilous nests, their calls echoing off the rock face. Inland, the slope was gentle, curving away towards the ground and dotted with patches of forest. Hardy evergreens that grew taller and stronger the further down they travelled.

"The twin's?"

"Aye, that's them."

They slowly passed between the peaks and into the Fjord. The temperature was noticeably lower in the shadow, and he suspected that some areas of the channel might never see direct sunlight. Hiccup strained his neck to see the top. He imagined huge chunks of rock breaking off from Cliffside, tumbling down and crushing their pitiful little boat like an ant. He shivered, not just from the sudden cold.

"So why is it called Marauder's Bay?"

Stoick glanced down at his son, but remained silent, focusing on steering. Hiccup sat down next to Gobber, who was happy to answer his questions.

"Well that's because of the people who live there, isn't it? Honestly Hiccup, sometimes…

"So the tribe is The Marauder's then?"

"Gods no lad, they're Geats! Have been for generations. The name comes from their favourite hobby, which is incidentally is also their profession."

"So they're Marauders? They go… Marauding?"

"No Hiccup! Raiders! Pillagers! Looters! Did I teach ya nothing boy?"

"I'm so confused."

Gobber bellowed a laugh, rocking the boat as he tilted his head skyward and leaned back against the wooden railings. It was the kind of laugh that went on for a little bit too long, and Hiccup felt compelled to nervously join in towards the end.

"No I'm just messing with ya lad. These Swedish folk are different from us islanders. For one thing, they're not as big. Well, they're still bigger than you I suppose."

Hiccup rolled his eyes, "Thank you for reminding me. What do you mean by 'Swedish'?"

"Well that's where we are, The Kingdom of Sweden! The King rules over the Jarls, and the Jarls rule over the tribes."

Hiccup stared at Gobber with something like confusion mixed with amazement mixed with disbelief. All he had ever know was Berk, and the occasional other tribe they visited for a Thing. From what he could see of it, the mainland was huge. It stretched far into the horizon without ever fading into the sea. It was impossible that it could all belong to one King, even with the help of these 'Jarls'.

"All this, one man, is it really all his?"

Gobber chuckled, but not as violently as before.

"It's a big world out there Hiccup, and you've still got a lot to see. Hel, when I was younger I tried my best to explore as much of it as I could. We got around quite a bit, your father and I, didn't we Stoick?"

"Aye Gobber, that we did."

This is a tribe of Geats, but they all answer to the King. And they don't make their living off sheep and yaks like we do. The Jarl sponsors armed raiders to plunder the great cities to the south and west. They bring back as much gold as they can carry and I can tell ya lad, from my own experience a Viking can carry a lot of gold, as long as it's somebody else's."

"But how do they have the time, surely the dragons would just lay waste to their tribe when the warriors are gone?"

"Ahh but that's where you're wrong. Ya see, the dragons don't attack the mainland, not this far south. Too far from their nest, too warm in summer, who knows?" Gobber leant down and spoke in a low tone, directly into Hiccup's ear. "There are some round these parts, who say that dragons don't exist, that they're stories and legends to be told to the children at night."

"How is that possible? Don't they know about us, about the raids?"

"Aye, we've told them, but that doesn't make them all believe us. Besides, we're normally so caught up in fighting the beasties, you may have noticed, that we don't have time to trade with anyone other than our friendly neighbours."

Hiccup sighed. He'd spent much of his childhood recovering after beatings from his 'friendly' neighbours. Perhaps Berk was never meant to be his home. This Kingdom sounded a lot more interesting, and safer. They had drifted past the twins and the land ahead of them was beginning to flatten out. Lush green hills replaced the jagged cliffs of the shoreline, although Hiccup could still see a snow topped mountain range in the far distance. A patch of sandy beach marked roughly the halfway point along the fjord, although it was still partially obscured by the sharp bend that Stoick was what Hiccup could see through the trees, the beach curved inward, like a crescent, and he could just make out various different smoke stacks that indicated bustling settlement.

"But don't worry yourself, they definitely know about the dragons here. Jarl Raynir is the only one we know of here who is likely to help us. Marauder's Bay is one of northernmost and isolated tribes, believe it or not. He's always been looking to grab an island of his own. He has a wee bit of an… obsession."

"What do you mean?"

Stoick was the one to answer, silencing Gobber, although he never took his eyes off the path ahead.

"Dragons, son. Raynir wants to capture and train them. He's convinced he can use them to become the most powerful man in all the lands. It's a shame really, his delusions are the only thing that's stopping him from becoming a great chief."

Hiccup was shocked. Never had he heard of anyone try to train a wild dragon before. Capture them, sure, but it was impossible. He stopped suddenly, an icy chill running down his spine. Of course it wasn't impossible to train a dragon.

"Astrid! What if they find her, what if he tries to take her from us? We can't just let him turn her into his pet?"

"That's why we hid her away son." Stoick paused as he heard an anguished roar come from the cabin. He raised his voice for the benefit of Astrid.

"Dad, where have you taken us? What are we going to do?

"Jarl Raynir, will not get his hands on Astrid, I can promise you that. But still, if my plan is going to work, we are going to need her help. She can't be seen straight away, not until I know how Raynir will respond. He walked over to the door so that Astrid could hear him clearly and gestured for Hiccup to come over. I want the both of you listen, carefully."

It was approaching the end of the shift for Helgi and Clamm. They had stood guard over the docks at the bay since the early hours of the morning, and their relief would arrive at midday, if they didn't forget, again. The docks were a relatively easy post, with only a few jetties ever in use at any one time. This far North, they didn't usually get traffic from other tribes, and they only had to put up with returning raiders, laden with booty and a superiority complex. Only a few fisherman had been out that morning. It was an unusually quiet day, and the wooden decking was deserted.

"Look there Clamm, a boat. They're back early aren't they?"

Clamm, for all his intellectual shortcomings, was one of the most powerfully built men in the bay, and was busy loading crates of timber onto the deck of a nearby longship when he heard his companion call.

"Oh, so they are." His spoke slowly, with a slight slur towards the end of each sentence. "Say, Helgi. I don't suppose you recognise the markings on the sail do you."

"I can't say that I do. But that's probably to be expected, given that there are no markings on this particular vessel."

Helgi was the polar opposite of Clamm. Tall and thin with wiry limbs, he had always had trouble fitting in to a society that valued raw physical power to an unjustified degree. He had a high, almost nasally voice that seemed to pierce the air whenever he spoke, and a nest of fluffy black hair that would be out of place on anything other than a sheep.

They stood together, watching the strange ship approach. As it closed on the Jetty, the sail was quickly rolled up, and an oar slid out on either side.

"I've just had an interesting thought Clamm."

"What is it?"

"If this ship has no markings, and neither of us recognise it, perhaps we should… You know?"

"Know what?"

"Intervene?"

"Oh, right Helgi. That is a good idea."

They stood there awkwardly, watching the oar slip neatly in and out of the water, pushing the ship ever closer to its destination. They looked at each other, and without a word, they simultaneously began to panic.

"Weapons Helgi!"

"Right, weapons."

They rushed to and fro across the dock, the old wood creaking underfoot as they tried to find where they had left their weapons. Clamm was buried headfirst in a store room, frantically searching for his mace Helgi jumped onto the moored longship, and quickly searched around the deck where his friend had been working. A moment later, his head popped back up.

"Clamm! Clamm, come out of there, I've found your mace."

The big man fell backwards out of the storeroom, a wooden bucket on his head.

"Thanks Helgi, I found your spear."

"That's a broom Clamm, I've got my spear here."

He jumped out the ship and ran over, pulling the bucket off his companion's head. He gave him the mace and his helmet, with one of the horns missing and the other one tilted downwards the wrong way.

"Take this, and put this on. Come on, we've got to stand guard."

The boat was almost upon them. The oars were being drawn in and they were drifting towards the closest jetty. The two guards took up their positions, weapons at the ready. They could see the three crew busily engaged in preparing the ship for landing. There were two enormous Viking warriors, armoured and able, plus a thin weedy figure with something of a slouch. Helgi narrowed his eye and shouted orders.

"Right, I'll take the little girl, you take the other two, got it?"

"Got it."

They were so close that they could see the off-white colour of the one-armed warrior's moustache. Visions of battle and glory flashed before Helgi's eyes. They might not have been chosen to go on the raids with the others, but they were guards for a reason. They would defend their homes with their lives. Their defining moment would soon be upon them.

"Hold fast brother. Marauder's bay has never been taken before, and it will not be taken today. We will hold these heathen's back, whatever the cost. The whole tribe is counting on us. If we don't defend this dock, they could all be put to the sword."

Helgi paused whilst he cleared his throat. The large, red headed Viking on the boat had put out his hand to catch the jetty and pull them alongside.

"Songs will be written about this day, years from now, men will say 'This was our finest hour'. Stand your ground, and tomorrow, we shall dine, in Valhalla!"

His voice cracked with the last word, but he made up for it with a squeaking battle cry. They lowered their weapons, and prepared for the inevitable. The red head had finished tying a rope to the mooring post, and pulled himself onto the deck with a grunt. Helgi went to stop him.

"Halt! Who goes there? In the name of Jarl Raynir the seventh of the Marauders, I order you to step no further without …"

He was cut off as a meaty fist smothered his face. Without a break in his stride, the red-head pushed the guard aside like a rag doll, his helmet flung into the water.

"I am Chief Stoick the Vast of Berk. I have business with the Jarl."

Calmm immediately stepped aside letting him pass.

"Yes sir! Right away sir! I'll take you to him Sir!"

Helgi looked up in a daze, watching as blond islander hobbled past, giving him an evil look as he went. The last of the three stopped for a moment leaning down to mutter an apology.

"Sorry about my dad, he can be kind of… forceful."

"That's okay miss, it's our job to be pushed around. Isn't that right Clamm? Clamm?"

The other guard was already disappearing up the hill and into the settlement, struggling to keep up with Stoick, who apparently knew the way already. The small one gave him a troubled look, like he was concerned for his health, and carried on after the others.

"I guess I'll just guard the Docks then, and the boat."

Helgi groaned as he got to his feet. Looking around, he struggled to comprehend what had just happened. He picked up his spear and resumed his post.

"Now where is my helmet?"

Hiccup straggled behind the group, trying to keep up with his father's blistering pace whilst also gawping at the village around him. Village was perhaps not the right word. Despite the lack of people at the docks, just over the lip of a small hill were more people than he had ever seen before, other than at a packed Thing. Countless buildings stood in neat rows and clusters, with wide thoroughfares flooded with people.

Each house had some sort of shop or trader working within. Butchers displayed great hunks of meat, whilst tanners hung out racks of animal hide to dry in the sun. Stalls in the street sold everything from cabbages to cloaks, shields and salted beef. His stole a glance at a Blacksmith as they walked by. There were stack of raw iron piled up to the ceiling, and multiple smiths working at different anvils. Weapons hung from hooks on the walls, a thousand different ways to kill a man, all in one building. He was speechless from the first blacksmith, when he passed another on the other side of the road. He was overwhelmed.

"Two blacksmiths in one town? How can anyone live at that speed?" He whispered to Gobber. His mentor just turned and smiled at him.

Stoick was leading them further and further into the labyrinth of houses. As the streets hemmed in, the crush of humanity became unbearable. The entire town was like the inside of the great hall at a feast. Hundreds of different voices filled the air, blending together into a constant, deafening buzz. It took all of his mental strength to keep his composure, despite the desperate urge to run. Having grown up on Berk, he had never had to deal with such a mass of people. Men shouted at each other across the street. Women bartered angrily with shopkeepers, whilst children played and ran around the feet of the adults oblivious to the stresses above them.

For once, Hiccup was happy he was so small. He followed easily behind Gobber and Stoick, who were clearing a wide path through the crowd with their beefy shoulders. Those who they pushed turned around in annoyance, but they stopped to stare at the strangers as they muscled their way towards the centre of town. Other than that, they went mostly unnoticed, especially Hiccup himself.

The ground began to rise, and Hiccup could just make out a large hall at the top of a hill in front of them. He assumed that the Jarl would be there, but there were so many bodies that he couldn't be sure. They soon came to a sturdy wooden palisade at the base of the small hill. It was right in the middle of the village, and the streets ran a full loop around it, curving around in either direction. They had stopped abruptly at a gate, and he glanced around Gobber to see Stoick in furious conversation with the man from the dock and another set of guards. They waited for a few minutes, enduring the looks and stares of the passers-by, before they were finally admitted into the keep.

At the top of the hill sat the great hall that Hiccup had seen earlier. There were no buildings immediately around it, just a grassy slope that lead down to the palisade, which separated the keep from the rest of the town. The hall was larger and more solid than the one on Berk. Made mostly of stone, it spoke of power and strength, with great glass windows running all the way up to the roof. The roof itself leant out over each end of the rectangular structure, and the thick, tapered beam that ran along its length ended in a decorative dragon's head. It seemed generic, similar to a Monstrous Nightmare but thicker, like a Gronckle. Whoever made it clearly had no idea what dragons really looked like. A narrow track lead up the hill and to the ornate wooden doors that marked the entrance.

From his vantage point above the rest of the buildings, Hiccup could back down to the docks, and for miles inland, where fields of crops and animal pens were divided by a long snaking river. He shuddered. If this was a small town in the North of the Kingdom, he could hardly imagine what the capital must look like. Truly, he had seen nothing of the world.

Away from the chaos of the streets, he could finally hear what Stoick was saying to the now significant amount of guards that were watching their every move. Hiccup began to see why Astrid needed to be hidden, at least until Stoick's plan went into action.

"You must forgive us, Stoick of Berk. Your visit was quite unexpected, and the Jarl is not ready to receive guests."

"Yes, and it was unexpected for us as well. I can assure you, we would not have come unannounced if it was not so urgent."

Gobber turned to Hiccup, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"Tell me lad, are ya nervous?

"Well yeah, who wouldn't be?"

"Well just remember why we came, and don't say anything rash." He turned back to Stoick, but then thought better of it, leaning close to Hiccup and speaking quietly.

"Your Father and Raynir might be old friends, but don't let that fool you. He is still the leader of this tribe, so try not to upset him." Gobber eyed the nearby soldiers as he spoke. The Swedes were not as strong, but they had much better armour and weapons that they could ever hope to have on Berk, not to mention that they completely outnumbered the Hooligan trio.

"Don't worry, I won't say anything."

"Aye, that's good of you boy. I've lost an arm and a leg, and I'd prefer to keep my head if you know what I mean."

"The Jarl will now grant you an audience!" announced a nearby guard. From the majestic way that proclaimed the news, Hiccup half expected a fanfare as the great doors opened. Alas, those neat details were reserved only for the stories. The door itself was more than made up for it, however. It was wide enough for 8 warriors to charge through at once, and tall enough for a Zippleback to rear up in anger.

The interior was brightly lit, with torch sconces at regular intervals. The stone walls were polished, and seemed to reflect the light into the back of the room, where upon a flight of steps, a great throne of rare oak sat, decorated with silver dragons. The ceiling was built high, so that any visitors would be forced to gaze up at the elaborate timber craftsmanship that held up the roof, before looking down to the throne. The occupant, however, was less impressive.

Dressed in a simple tunic that was a little too tight around the waist, he wore no crown, weapons, or armour. The only mark of his status was the bright, velvet cloak about his shoulder, tipped with the glowing white fur of an Arctic fox. Jarl Raynir was as old as his father, but possessed a vibrancy that made him years younger. Less wrinkled and greyed by the stress of running running a tribe that was constantly under attack. His light brown hair was worn loose and natural, but his beard was tamed to only a thick stubble. Between the two his clear blue eyes flicked between his guests with a childlike energy. He rose immediately to greet them, a practiced and eager host.

"Stoick!" he boomed. His somewhat unfamiliar accent filled the spacious hall.

"How long has it been? My old friend, come to visit! And Gobber, you have fewer legs than I remember."

"Aye, and you're fatter than I expected."

The room fell silent for a second. Hiccup closed his eyes, fearing that they had already insulted the most powerful man in the tribe. The silence seemed to go on forever, each second grinding painfully past.

Just as it was becoming unbearable, the three men, all at once broke into raucous laughter. Apparently, they were older friends than Hiccup had been lead to believe. Raynir slapped Gobber on the back, and gripped Stoick by the arm band.

"Well that's the price of living well!" Raynir slapped his stomach. He might have been a little on the large side, but Hiccup did not doubt that he was stronger than most of the Hooligan tribe.

"Come, you must tell me of your travels, I hope that my guards didn't give you any trouble. You! Clamm you gormless sod. Find the servants and fetch the tables, tonight we are having a feast!"

A few minutes later, the hall was swarming with staff, carrying all manner of plates and furniture from the basement and a series of adjoining rooms. A great stone hearth was prepared, rows of thick, uncut logs were laid on the tinder. They would be getting through a whole tree by the looks of it. Raynir, Stoick and Gobber were deep in conversation, and from what Hiccup could tell, he had not yet been noticed. They were still reminiscing of great battles and female conquests, standing in the middle of the hall with a round of drinks, ignoring the servants scurrying around them. It was amazing, within an hour, it was like they had never been gone. Raynir was ranting about some quest they had gone on in their youth, loud enough for the entire hall to hear, and those closest to him to flinch at every word

"And then, you remember Bolli Bolasson? When he went looking for his stolen axe in the palace, and stumbled into the empress's bedchambers!" Hiccup had never seen Stoick laugh so much in his life. Gobber maybe, but his father had always seemed reserved and impossible to please. He suspected that necessity was not the only reason that they had chosen Marauder's Bay of all places.

"Ah Stoick, you should have gone back to Miklagard, with me. They actually pay us a wage now, but we can still keep the loot!"

"Once is enough to last any man a lifetime. Although maybe one day my son might see the great walls of the Greek City."

"Your son? How is he doing, I haven't heard about him in years. Last time I saw him he was just a babe."

Slowly, the attention turned to Hiccup, and it took a moment for Raynir to realise who the silent stranger was.

"Wait, this is your son. For the love of Odin Stoick aren't you feeding him?"

A familiar pain flashed across Stoick's face. It was difficult to hide his disappointment in his son, especially when they met new and important people.

"Well we'll soon change that. Clamm! Where is that feast?"

"Sir, they've only just started cooking, the feast is due for this evening and…"

"Bah! Don't remind me. Just bring us some more drinks, and some seats for my guests, please!"

"Yes Sir"

Large, padded chairs were brought for the four of them. Hiccup's legs did not quite reach the ground, so he had to sit balanced on the front of the chair. It wasn't ideal, but at least he didn't look like a complete imbecile.

Stoick's face darkened as he prepared for more serious talk. He had yet to explain the purpose of the visit, and delaying any longer would be an abuse of hospitality. Raynir sensed the change and leaned in closer, ready to hear what Stoick had to offer.

"Raynir, my old friend. There is a reason we have come. In truth, there are dark times on Berk, and we need your help."

Raynir said nothing, only rubbing his chin and nodding to continue.

"The tribe has rebelled against my family, and thrown us off the island, we barely escaped with our lives."

"WHAT! You are the best chief that island has seen in generations. Why would they do this to you?"

"We tried…" Stoick glanced at his son, picking his words carefully. "We managed to train a captured dragon."

Raynir froze, a small smile spreading across his face. Concern for his friend stopped him from being truly elated, but it was obvious that the news interested him greatly. For the first time that afternoon, the man was truly speechless.

"How… Who?"

"You'll have to ask my son. It was he who tamed the beast."

All eyes swivelled towards Hiccup. For the second time he found himself the centre of attention. They all stared at him, waiting for an answer.

"Oh…" he coughed "Well, uh. I guess that I shot it down with a bola. I found it in the forest and I uh… trained it."

"But why did it not just burn you to a crisp and chew the bones? Why didn't it carry you away to its nest to feed its hatchlings?

"It couldn't fly, it was injured. I brought her food and, well… it just happened."

"Her?"

"Astrid, we call her Astrid. She's gotta have a name right?"

Raynir sat back, deep in thought. He wanted to believe the boy, he truly did, but it just seemed impossible, especially from such a weedy figure. He sat up, decision made.

"I'm sorry Stoick, but I'm afraid I can't quite fathom how this 'Hiccup' of yours could ever grapple with the fiery beasts. I'll believe it when I see it."

Stoick grinned. His plan was working perfectly.

"Well as it happens, we have the Dragon with us. Down at the docks, she's stored on her boat."

"WHAT! It's here? A live dragon? Quickly, we must get down to the docks. Now!"

A scrum of servants rushed to remove Raynir's ceremonial cloak and replace it with a more practical overoat. The chairs were removed and a path to the doorway was cleared. Raynir practically flew out the door and down the pathway, muttering as he went.

"A dragon! In my village? What would my ancestor's say?"

He paused for a second near the gate, and looked around for one of his men.

"Clamm. Aren't you supposed to be guarding the docks? Tell me, who is with that Dragon?"

"Don't worry sir, it's in good hands. Helgi is watching over the docks."

"Helgi? Odin save us. We have to hurry!"

"Well, this must be most interesting vessel I ever did see..." Helgi was wandering around the deck, soaking wet after retrieving his helmet. There was still a bit of seaweed wrapped around the horns. His mechanical mind was naturally interested in the strange ship that the Islanders had arrived in. It was seaworthy, and yet only big enough for five or six crew at most, four if they were all as big as the red head.

"Oh, so this steers… and the rudder, is at the back." He stepped round the cabin leaving damp footprints and looked over the edge, humming to himself. As he squeezed back round, he heard a strange, guttural growl from behind the door. He put it down to his imagination, or just the wood groaning as he stepped on it. There was a shifting and scratching noise, and the deck rocked from side to side. There was definitely something in there. He lowered his spear, and took a nervous step towards the door.

"Who goes there, friend or foe? I'm warning you, I am a seasoned warrior, one of Jarl Raynir's personal guard."

The wood on each side began to bulge slightly, as if it was being inflated from within. Helgi stopped and stared at the door, suddenly a lot more worried about what was inside.

"Helgi! Wait!"

He turned towards the familiar voice. Clamm was running down the hill to meet him. From the look on his face it was clearly urgent. Helgi was shocked to see the stangers and the Jarl himself crest the hill shortly afterwards. "They must be coming to inspect the ship." He reasoned.

He leant on the cabin with one hand, trying to look as relaxed and professional as possible.

"Don't worry sir, I've got it all under con-

The cabin exploded outwards, shards of wood showering the dock. Helgi was sent screaming into the water, such was the sheer force. The small wooden structure simply disappeared, and in its place, was very large, and very annoyed dragon.

Raynir and his men stood and gawped open mouthed at the creature that had just annihilated half of the ship without breaking a sweat. As the last of the splinters rained down, a Viking helmet landed flush on Astrid's snout. She was cross eyed looking at it, and huffed. With a flick of her head, it was firmly embedded in a thick wooden mooring pillar.

Astrid stood and stared at the party that had run down to the docks. She could see that Stoick Gobber and Hiccup were still alive, which was promising. She ached all over from being cramped up for so long in such a confined space. She hopped onto the jetty and stretched her wings, giving them a flap for good luck. She was rewarded with a round of 'Oohs' and 'Ahhs' from the audience. She couldn't help but snort with laughter.

Alone, Hiccup peeled away from the main group, stepping forward to greet her. He made a deliberate show of approaching carefully, and gently patting her on the nose before touching her anywhere else. As one, the crowd gasped as she leant down to lick her best friend. Hiccups laughter seemed to put them at ease, and they edged ever closer, shuffling along the deck.

"Great work Astrid. Sorry about the cabin, but we had to do it for the plan to work."

Astrid put her paws forward, stretching her back and moaning in relief.

"That's okay, I'm just glad to see that you're fine."

"Yeah, I'm glad to see you too. Still, we've got a job to do. Remember nice dragon." She snorted a laugh.

"Since when have I ever played nice? Oh hello. You must be Jarl Raynir. If you're careful I might not eat you and your family."

The Jarl had led the group right up to the Night Fury, just out of reach. Hiccup's relaxed attitude reassured them slightly.

"Hold out your hand. Now say hello to Astrid the Night Fury."

Hiccup guided his hand onto Astrid's snout whilst she sat patiently. It reeked of fear and ale. Two fairly common odours, having lived near Hiccup and Vikings respectively. The Jarl's caution quickly gave way to amazement.

"She beautiful, so sleek, and so dangerous."

"You don't know the half of it, Buddy."

He felt her scales and her wings, which she unfurled to oblige him. With his surprisingly soft fingers, Raynir caressed the thin membrane, tracing the individual veins that were highlighted against the sinking sun. He inspected each claw with reverent attention, the wound having miraculously healed over. A patch of slightly lighter scales was the only evidence of the grievous injury. He frowned, tugging on a leather buckle around her midriff. Astrid didn't react, although it pinched more than she would have liked.

"And what is this your dragon is… wearing." In a flash, Hiccup was at his side, guiding his hand away from the delicate mechanisms.

"Do you remember when I said she was injured?" Hiccup pointed at the artificial tailfin. Without all this, she can't fly."

The Jarl ran his hands along the length of the tail, Astrid lifting it from the floor for his benefit. He pulled the tailfin open, almost as interested in the contraption as he was at the dragon. Out of the corner of his eye, Hiccup noticed Stoick and Gobber examining the saddle and pedals. It occurred to him that they were as ignorant as Jarl as to what he and Astrid had really been doing together.

"But how does it control the wing. This is just made out of leather."

"Well that's just the thing, in order to fly, she needs a rider."

There was a sharp intake of breath from every member of the crowd. Raynir almost looked horrified, but the shock was much more telling. For the first time, muttering broke out amongst the group. They could believe that the Dragon was tamed, but a rider seemed a step too far. Stoick laughed nervously, stepping forward and placing a hand on his son's shoulder.

"Hiccup, what are you saying? Remember what we agreed."

"But its true dad! Look, why else would she have a saddle."

"A saddle? Hiccup that's enough!"

Stoick started to drag Hiccup away, but stopped abruptly." Astrid's growl was long and loud, her teeth fully extended. Immediately, weapons were drawn, all held ready to strike the beast down. She paced forward slowly, right up to Stoick's frozen face.

She fixed him with her eyes, the same look that she had shown Hiccup so long ago. For the first time, the chief began to waver. He didn't want to give up his son, but he did not want to die so far from home. Hiccup acted quickly to defuse the situation.

"It's okay everyone! Please don't antagonise her." He turned to his father, who slowly released his iron grip.

"Dad, it's okay. She's still Astrid. Just let me show you."

Stoick looked down to his son, and back up into the forest green eyes of the Night Fury. He closed his eyes, and nodded reluctantly his approval.

Without another word, Hiccup clambered onto Astrid's back, and hooked himself into the saddle. He tested the pedals, happy that they were still working after all they had been through. The fin flapped open and closed, just like its real counterpart. Astrid lowered her haunches, ready to pounce. Her giant wings stretched out to their fullest extent.

"You ready Bud?"

"Let's do this!"

Gobber tapped Raynir with his hook. "You might want to step back a tad…"

With a single flap and a powerful leap, she shot into the air in a vertical climb. All the ships in the harbour rocked with the force of a gale, and the jetty immediately beneath her shattered under the strength of the blow.

Hiccup was pushed to the back of the saddle as Astrid pumped her wings, carrying them as high as the twin peaks in a matter of seconds. She levelled off, matching the changes that Hiccup made with the pedals. They circled round the bay, to cries of astonishment from below. In a series of tight and twisting turns, they gained more and more altitude, before they rolled inverted and glided upside down towards the sea.

"Yeah! What do you say we give that Jarl a scare or two?"

"I'm way ahead of you!"

They had drifted out over the ocean, but looped back inwards towards the shore. Still carrying the speed from their sudden descent, they shot between the twins and raced back towards the village. Astrid began to build up her fire, a steady rush of air fanning the flames within her. A high whistle began to ring around their ears. They dropped further still, picking up even more speed as they followed the gentle path of the fjord. They were skimming the water as they rounded on the docks, tearing towards them like a hurricane. The whistling became a wail, which became a deafening scream, until she loosed her deadly projectile straight at the Jarl.

He stood, stunned, even as Stoick and Gobber took cover on the ground, their instincts honed by years of dragon raids. A streak of blue flashed across the water at an impossible speed, bursting just in front of the jetty. A bright flash stole their vision for an instant, before a black shape swept by, inches above their helmets.

The pair pulled up sharply, turning all of their speed into height. They were lifted upwards by the heat of the blast, until they gently peaked, and began to fall back to earth. Astrid bellowed with excitement, her tongue hanging out in the rushing wind. She spread her wings, and settled comfortably into a glide.

They drifted slowly towards the great hall with the last of their energy, in full view of the town. They heard whoops and cheers from below, as the populace filled the streets to see the magnificent spectacle. Below, Astrid could make out the Jarl and his men, pushing through the crowd to get back to the hall.

Without another beat of her wings, Astrid settled on the roof of the structure. Standing tall and proud above the seat of power. Perched on the decorative dragon's head at the tip of the wooden beam, she grinned as saw the Jarl struggle up the hill towards them. With all her strength, she roared a cry of sheer, boisterous delight, which echoed across the town and the distant mountains.

The Jarl arrived at the doors, out of breath and with significantly fewer eyebrows. A servant rushed him a mug of ale, which he downed in one.

"Clamm! Whatever the servants are cooking, tell them to double it. Tonight we will feast with a Dragon!"

For a man who was so animated when sober, it was expected that the Jarl became larger than life itself after his sixth pint of ale. There were hundreds of guests, and tables piled high with rich and greasy food. Whole joints of mutton, vast strips of salted beef, a mountain of smoked and shredded ham hock, and a sad looking bowl of vegetables near the back. Needless to say, there might as well have been a river of drink flowing out the door. The celebration was in full swing, extending beyond the hall down the hill, and overflowing into the streets. As for the Jarl, there was not a happier man in all the world, surrounded by friends, food, fire, and above all a coveted Dragon.

Astrid herself took centre stage within the hall, and the men took turns to toss fish in the air, which she leapt and caught with practiced ease. With the saddle removed and safely stored away, she was much more nimble in the air, even if she couldn't fly. She loved being in the centre of attention, but most of all, she loved living amongst her people, without fear of being hunted or attacked. After so long hiding away from civilisation, to be accepted once again was a feeling beyond words.

As the men became steadily drunker, the throws became more erratic, and the leaps became higher and faster. Some of the completely senseless partygoers tried to climb onto her back like hiccup had earlier. She quickly knocked them down with a well-timed head-butt, causing the rest of the hall to erupt in laughter.

Hiccup was standing quietly to one side, watching the frivolity with amusement. He felt a familiar hand on his shoulder. From the spark in his eye, he could tell that Stoick had been drinking, but he had no idea how much. His father could drink for days without stopping, which he unfortunately knew from experience.

"Hiccup."

"Yes dad?"

"I just wanted to say… I… I'm."

"It's okay dad, I understand."

"No Hiccup, you don't. I'm sorry, sorry for everything. I meant it. You have done something that no Viking in history could have ever even tried."

"I couldn't have done anything without Astrid."

"You saved her Hiccup, do you realise? You have saved the life of that poor girl who was imprisoned in that body."

There was a cheer as Astrid crashed into a thankfully empty table after her most recent and audacious catch.

"I'm proud, to call you my son."

There were tears in both of their eyes, as Hiccup wordlessly reached out and squeezed his Father's arm. He turned to follow Astrid, who was trotting towards the door.

As they emerged onto the packed hill, another round of cheers filled the night air. It seemed the entire bay had turned up to show their approval for the great Dragon and its rider. A thousand specks of light filled the town, each one an untold story of joy and romance. It was as if a collective nervous energy had been released all at once, and the people were loving it.

"I thought Dragons were supposed to be evil."

Two figures were sat nearby, deep in conversation on a bench outside the great doors. Apparently, they were oblivious to the Night Fury that was stood within clawing range.

"Why do you say that Helgi?"

"Well Clamm, I've heard that they kill and steal from the island tribes as a matter of routine. It's that kind of behaviour that might lend itself to an inherently evil disposition."

"I suppose you're on to something. Still, do you think that Dragons are able to fully comprehend the duality of good and evil? Must they be so irrevocably positioned on one side of the spectrum as to have no knowledge of any alternatives?"

"Well that's just the thing. Clearly, that dragon we saw earlier has, on its own accord, grappled with this very moral conundrum and proved itself entirely capable of being good, suggesting a higher level of reasoning then perhaps we give them credit for."

"That may well be true Helgi. But then again, maybe it is evil, and the reason we were spared was because we were just as bad as it. Perhaps in our haste to condemn the beast, we have forgotten our own, considerable shortfalls."

"That's crazy, we are clearly the good guys in this grand narrative that is our lives."

"Can you imagine if someone told the story of our lives as a narrative, perhaps even writing it down? As a book, or something."

"Well knowing us Clamm, we'd probably just be minor characters, you know how it goes…"

Hiccup and Astrid looked at each other, sharing a similarly clueless expression. They quickly went back inside, where the feast had reached its climax. A handful of unconscious Vikings and a crowd full of drunk ones surrounded a small table pressed up against a wall of fat barrels.

Raynir was challenging his men to a drinking game, but Gobber was proving to be more than a match. After ten pints, straight out of the tap, it seemed as if neither would give an inch. The watching audience were laughing with amazement more than anything. They both slammed their mugs on the table, empty again. Suddenly, Raynir stood up, causing a few of his followers to fall back in surprise.

"That's it!" He slurred, struggling to stay on his feet. "The first to finish, an entire barrel, shall be… the winner!" He collapsed back into his chair, feeling blindly for his tankard.

Astrid chirped for Hiccup's attention, a mischievous look on her face.

"Guess what, I'm going to do something stupid"

"Oh no Astrid, that's your 'I'm going to do something stupid' face."

"Just watch." Astrid laughed as she trotted over to the gathering.

All the men gasped as she stretched up, selecting a barrel near the top of the pile. She opened her mouth wide, and with a sharp claw punched a plate-sized hole near the bottom of the wooden container. Gallons of thick, sweet, dark brown mead gushed into her waiting maw. For a good thirty seconds, the flow of liquid was uninterrupted, until she grasped it between her claws and leant back, looking to swallow all of it.

She leant too far and lost her balance, toppling backwards onto the reed covered floor. Still gripping the barrel, she grasped it with all four claws and squeezed it till it shattered, not a drop left within it.

"We have a champion!" Rowdy applause filled the hall, and Astrid roared up at the ceiling from her somewhat compromised position on the floor.

"Astrid? Astrid? Are you okay? Look at me Astrid."

"Hey Hiccup… Did I ever tell you what nice hair you have? Soft… smooth…"

"Get off my head. Thor, what is the matter with you?"

It was well documented what would happen to a dragon when a sword was thrust through its scales, or a hammer crush its bones. What was less well known, was the effect of large quantities of alcohol on a Dragon's social skills. With the end of her third barrel, Astrid was on the verge of a significant scientific breakthrough.

"Gobber… can I try on your hand, it looks so shiny. Just one little taste… Aww stop it Hiccup"

"Astrid what are you doing? You must be sick or something. No you can't eat Gobber's other leg, he needs it for walking."

Astrid nudged an empty mug towards Hiccup with her snout, concentrating obscenely hard to move it exactly how she wanted.

"No Astrid, I can't drink. There are heavyweights and there are lightweights. I have no weight."

"Come on, you'll love it. I used to be a dragon till I started drinking…"

She lifted picked him up by his scruff with sheathed teeth, and carried him over to the still massive reserve of mead and ale. She couldn't hear his complaints over the sound of muffled, draconic laughter.

"Well okay, I guess one drink couldn't hurt."

With that, an hour had gone by, and they were having the time of their lives.

Somewhere, somebody was playing some music, and everyone that was still awake found an empty space or a table to dance on. It was astonishing that each Viking was dancing to a separate tune, despite there being just a single troop of musicians.

"Come on Hiccup, it's our time to shine."

"Whatever you sayahhhh…."

Astrid had picked him up again and was whirling him round the room at a frightening speed, but Hiccup didn't seem to mind.

"Yeah… This is amazing!"

Astrid laughed a deep laugh, and pulled Hiccup in close to her with her claws. He was powerless to resist. She was still spinning, and lost her balance, falling through a small side door, smashing it to pieces. Nobody came after them. They were in an empty storeroom, everything had been used for the feast, and they found themselves alone.

Hiccup had landed on top of Astrid, hysterical. He looked up into her eyes and she looked back, sobering up just a fraction.

"You know, if you were a dragon…"

"Or if you weren't."

They both looked shocked, neither one expecting Hiccup's response.

"Screw it Hiccup, I love you."

"I love you too Astrid."

They lay there together, as the night drew on and the moon sank below the horizon, and a new day bathed in the light of the dawning sun.