Hello! :D

Just so you guys know (one reviewer was wondering), "sir" and "sire" have about the same meaning. "Sire" was not misused or misspelled in the last chapter. Just so that one reviewer knows. ;)

Thanks for the reviews last chapter, as usual! They encourage me a lot! :) So, thanks for all the support, and I hope you like chapter 9! We're coming pretty close to the conclusion here...yeah, I'm pretty excited! :D Enjoy chapter 9!

Stoick left to do a round with the soldiers he had gathered, just to make sure Dagur wasn't coming in after all with the rest of his fleet. Astrid and Gobber remained at the Haddock residence. The fireplace was roaring, the embers illuminating (and warming) the room. It was a good thing, too, because shortly after Stoick's departure, Hiccup began shivering, no doubt due to the bloodloss the arrow wound had caused.

"It isn't your fault, lass," Gobber said quietly, his voice barely loud enough to be heard. "Snotlout didn't mean what he said. He was just upset, and he took it out on you. It wasn't your-"

"No, it was my fault," Astrid said before Gobber could finish speaking. "I should have gone with them. If I hadn't stayed behind, I would have been able to prevent it. I...I should have gone. Snotlout was right. I'm the only one to blame for this."

Gobber shook his head. "No, you're wrong," he said. "It's actually Snotlout's fault you didn't go with them. Snotlout was the one who sabotaged the hypnosis. If he hadn't done that, you wouldn't have been too scared to follow them out to fight Dagur. If anyone's to blame, it's-"

"Me."

Gobber sighed. Astrid knew she was probably being difficult, but she couldn't help it. She also couldn't help but think, what would have happened if she'd followed the other riders when they went after Dagur? Would Hiccup have gotten hurt, or would she have been able to prevent it?

"What happens if he doesn't make it?" Astrid whispered. That was another one of her fears; what if Hiccup didn't pull through? What if the bloodloss was simply too much on him? What if his body couldn't replenish the blood he needed and mend his wound at the same time? What if his body couldn't handle it?

"If he doesn't pull through," Astrid said, "it'll be all my fault."

"Don't even talk like that, Astrid," Gobber said, sounding more shocked than he looked. "Hiccup's stronger than he's given credit for. He'll pull through, you'll see. You needn't worry."

Astrid looked back down. She wished she could be as certain as Gobber.

"Lass," Gobber said, "Hiccup wouldn't blame you, and you know that."

"Of course I do," Astrid snapped back in response. She was pretty sure she hadn't meant to come out that snappy, but in the end, she didn't take it back. "Unconscious people normally don't go around blaming people."

Gobber sighed yet again for the second time during this conversation. "Astrid-"

"No, Gobber, please just stop," Astrid said. Her voice was a pleading contrast to her earlier, snarky tone, and if Gobber noticed, he didn't mention it. "You can't convince me that it isn't my fault, so please stop trying."

Gobber opened his mouth to protest, but in the end, he simply shut his mouth again and sighed (for the third time. Astrid supposed he sighed a lot when he didn't know what else to say). "Alright, lass," Gobber said. "Just take care of 'im. I'll be back a little later on."

As he made his way towards the door, he rested his hand on Astrid's shoulder. Astrid jerked away, not even glancing at the blacksmith. She didn't look back until she heard the door open and shut, and when she did look back, all she saw was an empty room.

She and Hiccup were alone.

She sighed heavily and rested her hand on Hiccup's forehead, pushing his bangs out of the way. It didn't feel like he had a fever coming on, but at the same time, she didn't know what Dagur used on his arrows. Poison, perhaps? She wasn't one hundred percent sure. Did he clean the arrows his men used, or did he let them rust and rot for months before they were actually put in the crossbows?

The thought made her stomach roll. If that was the case with Berserker arrows, Astrid didn't know what kind of trouble Hiccup was in for. He'd already lost so much blood. If he were to get sick on top of that, she knew he wouldn't be strong enough to fight it off.

Gobber had said that Hiccup was stronger than he was given credit for, and while, yes, Astrid believed that, she still didn't feel reassured. She was scared, worried, concerned, and everything in between for Hiccup's sake.

So, she stood up, leaving Hiccup's side reluctantly, fetched a basin of water and a rag, and returned to his side in haste. She soaked the rag in the water and wrang it out, the excess water dripping back into the bowl.

She folded the rag in half and used it to dab Hiccup's forehead, having the mindset that if he was going to get a fever, maybe she could stop it before it even began.

She would never get over how terrible he looked, no matter how much time passed after this moment. She would always remember the cold, waxy paleness of his skin, and forever remember the amount of blood that had been staining his clothes when Snotlout and Fishlegs first brought him inside. She would never forget the arrow lodged deep into Hiccup's skin, and she would never forget his scream as Gothi dug it out with a dagger.

The images would haunt her dreams until the day she died.

She took his hand carefully in her own, pressing the rag against his forehead with her other hand. She tried (and failed) to ignore the cold clamminess of his fingers. Seeing her friend in such a state made tears spring into her eyes, and she couldn't bring herself to care.

"Hiccup, please fight this," she pleaded, squeezing his hand. "You can fight through this. You have to. Please, Hiccup. You can't give up."

…

Getting to Berk was easy, especially with the small ship Dagur used to reach his destination. Dagur heard soldiers marching through the streets of Berk and growled; no doubt, the dragon riders that escaped after Hiccup went down told Stoick all about Dagur and his men.

They were probably making sure Dagur wasn't still coming to attack.

Oh, well, too bad for them. Dagur wasn't coming to attack. He was coming to finish what he started. He was coming to finally end the rivalry between him and his brother. That was his goal, anyways.

He still wished his men would have taken down the Night Fury as well as Hiccup. When Hiccup was shot by the arrow, the other dragon riders had dropped what they were doing and raced to his rescue. While some of the dragons grabbed Toothless in their claws and flew the Night Fury back to Berk, the rest of the dragons and their riders took Hiccup back to Berk.

If only they'd been able to hit the Night Fury as well as Hiccup. Things would have been so much easier. Dagur could kill the Night Fury, and Hiccup, both in one night.

Unfortunately, right now, he would have to settle for just killing Hiccup, and he supposed that was good enough for now.

He left the ship behind a sea stack and took an inconspicuous wooden, undecorated rowboat to the shores of Berk. As soon as he made it there, he pulled the boat onto the sandy beach and scanned his surroundings.

No soldiers.

No guards.

No dragons.

Pefect. The coast was clear.

Dagur pulled out his dagger; the sharpest one he could manage to find. He planned on giving Hiccup a slow, painful death, and he couldn't do that if the weapon was bigger than a dagger. Dagur planned on stabbing Hiccup in the chest, right beside where his heart would be, and a sword would be too big, and an axe wouldn't work.

So, although it was small, a dagger would serve its purpose.

"It's time, Hiccup," Dagur said, glancing at his dagger as moonlight reflected off the blade's face. "It's time to be put out of your misery."

He sheathed the blade, and continued onwards.