Disclaimer: I don't own HTTYD

Chapter Eight – Resolve

The dragon riders were clearing up the arena after Astrid and Stoick's late night mauling of the training dummies. "Did you have to wreck all of them?" Ruffnut complained as she swept up bits of straw. "It's gonna take forever to sew all this back together and put the stuffing back in."

"We can't repair these" Fishlegs protested in exasperation, "We're just gonna have to burn them and start over…err, Tuffnut? What's the matter with you?" he asked, when said twin suddenly began to bawl. Emotional outbursts from him weren't anything new, but it wasn't clear this time what had set him off.

Tuffnut shook his head, still blubbering. "N-nothing. It's just…y-you said b-burn…like we did to…" He wailed and blew his nose on Ruffnut's braid. Disgusted, she yanked it out of his grasp and snapped, "Hey, get your snot all over your own hair, bro!"

Astrid glared at her, but gave Tuffnut a more sympathetic glance. "Leave him alone, Ruffnut. We're all feeling terrible…we all miss Hiccup" she said sadly, looking around at them all. Everyone sighed at the thought of their lost friend, and the dragons whined or whimpered. Fishlegs began to tear up himself, and hurried over to Meatlug on the pretence of comforting her.

Snotlout scowled as he picked up the broken bits of wood that had once been part of the training dummies and targets. As he tossed them to Hookfang to be burned, he coldly remarked, "Not all of us." Unfortunately for him, he didn't put any distance between himself and his dragon before saying something that callous. Hookfang flamed him. "Argh! Hookfang!"

"You deserved that" Fishlegs retorted. "How could you possibly say something like that, Snotlout? After everything Hiccup has done for you?"

Supported him. Encouraged him. Been his leader. Been his friend. "That's not what I meant, Fishface!" he snapped, angry because his chest felt tight and twisting, and his eyes were stinging. All this sweeping was throwing up an awful lot of stupid dust. "There's no point in missing him; it's not gonna bring him and Toothless back. They're gone, and there's nothing we can do about it."

"We still need to grieve, Snotlout" Astrid insisted, her hands tightening around the broom she was holding. As the de facto leader of the dragon riders now that Hiccup had passed, she was struggling to hold herself together and be strong for them. She couldn't believe Snotlout would be so callous – this was a new low, even for him. How dare he act like Hiccup's death doesn't matter to him?!

Snotlout puffed his chest out and sneered, but it was more like a grimace. "We Jorgensons don't grieve, Astrid. We stay strong. But if you ever need a shoulder to cry on, I'm here for you" he declared, holding his arms out to her. Astrid's eyes narrowed. She marched up to him, grabbed his arm and threw him across the ring, where he landed in the pile of straw Ruffnut was amassing, sending it scattering, much to her annoyance.

"I do feel a bit better now; thanks, Snotlout" Astrid said airily, going back to sweeping. Groaning, he struggled to his feet and dusted himself off. "No problem" he winced, rolling his shoulder. "I'm just saying we have to face the facts. Hiccup's not coming back, and if he hadn't gone to Myrkr, this wouldn't have happened. It's his own fault he"-

The next thing Snotlout knew, he was being tackled to the ground by a furious flaxen-haired blur. "How dare you?!" Astrid screamed in his face, grasping the front of his tunic and shaking him violently. "You wretched boar-headed son of a half-troll - ! Don't you dare suggest that Hiccup! Deserved! To! Die!" She slammed him against the ground with each of the last four words.

The others snapped out of their shock and rushed over to drag Astrid off of Snotlout, who crawled backwards, terrified eyes locked on her face. Then a shadow fell over him, and he looked upside down at…oh no. Stoick was standing over him; the chief reached down and with one hand, lifted Snotlout clean off the ground. Once he was set back down, Stoick ground out, "What is going on?"

Nobody dared speak…except for Tuffnut, of course. "Well actually, Chief, Astrid tried to kill Snotlout cos he said it was Hiccup's fault he died" the male twin declared, pointing less than helpfully at Snotlout himself.

At that, Stoick's expression turned nothing short of thunderous. "I didn't!" Snotlout denied it at once, "okay, m-maybe I did, b-but I didn't mean it! It's just that my dad said" – His eyes widened and he clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. Me and my stupid big mouth! he chastised himself. If – no, when – his dad found out that he'd told the chief what Spitelout had said about Hiccup, he was gonna get a lashing for sure – and not just one from a tongue.

Stoick frowned deeply, and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. Fishlegs and Ruffnut let go of Astrid, who gaped at Snotlout in disbelief. "Are you telling us you said those horrible things because your dad told you they were true?" she demanded, indignant.

Snotlout cringed even more, looking as if he wished the ground would swallow him up. "…Maybe?" he squeaked.

Everyone groaned. "Why are you still listening to that guy?" Fishlegs asked.

"He's my dad, Fishface! It's not like I have a choice!"

Stoick spoke up again. "No, Snotlout" he insisted, stopping himself at the last moment from calling the young man 'son'. "You do have a choice. You need to be your own person, not…not living in your father's shadow. He shouldn't expect you to…to be just like him…" To the riders distress, their great chieftain began to tear up. Stoick being angry they were used to; but they had never seen him like this. It was unsettling.

"Chief?" Astrid asked tentatively.

"It's my fault" he whispered, but they still heard him. "It's my fault he's gone. I put too much pressure on him; I drove him away. Hiccup, my boy…" Stoick's eyes stared at nothing. Or more likely, he was staring at Hiccup's ghost in his own mind. The riders glanced at one another uneasily. None of them knew what to say, and none of them dared speak, not even the twins.

At last, Astrid worked up the courage. "It's not your fault, Chief" she insisted. "You and Hiccup…you made mistakes, we all did, but the only people to blame here are those hunters. They took someone we love from us, and they have to pay" she declared, eyes darkening. So did Stoick's eyes. Whilst his despair was unnerving, his anger was a fierce and terrible storm.

"Aye, that they do" he agreed with her, "and I have a way to make that happen. Have your dragons burn whatever's left here and come to the Great Hall as soon as you can" he ordered. With that Stoick walked away, out of the arena. When he was gone, Snotlout gulped and turned to face the others. They all looked very unimpressed, but he supposed he deserved that.

"I know what you're gonna say" he told them, "I'm a muttonhead."

Astrid nodded. "True."

"And a huge jerk."

"Also true" Tuffnut concurred.

"I didn't mean it" he insisted, but he wasn't sure they believed him. Why should they? He lied all the time. "I don't even know why I said it. I do miss Hiccup. So much. Especially now." Snotlout missed the way Hiccup would tell him it was okay, put his skinny but warm arm around Snotlout's shoulders and reassure him that he hadn't messed up, that he'd done well. "I'm sorry, Astrid."

She approached him slowly, but he still cowered, as if afraid she would start laying in to him again. When she held out a hand to him, he flinched. After a few seconds of staring at her fingers as if they might sprout deadly claws, he realised that she was offering him a handshake. Nervously, he obliged. "Apology accepted. And I'm sorry for attacking you. But your father is an asshole."

He gulped, not wanting her to speak ill of his dad but not wanting to incur her wrath either. "He shouldn't have said that stuff about Hiccup" Snotlout agreed. It had been disrespectful, some might even say treasonous, to suggest that the heir of Berk had deserved his gruesome fate. That much he was sure about.

"Really just in general, but especially because of this. I mean this is a new low, even for Spitelout."

"Yeah! It's really…spiteful" Ruffnut commented. Her eyes widened in realisation. "Oh…wow, your dad is really well named."

Fishlegs twisted his hands together and anxiously prompted, "Um, guys? I don't think we should leave the Chief waiting." The others agreed; they swept up the last of the debris and motioned for their dragons to set the pile alight. As the small bonfire burned to ash, the five of them mounted up and took off for the Great Hall. Leaving their dragons to wait outside, the riders walked in.

Everybody was inside the Hall; Stoick and the Council were standing before the high table. The riders slipped around the edges to the front of the crowd. Astrid shot a poisonous glare at Spitelout. He noticed – she could see his lip curl – but he ignored her. The villagers muttered to each other, pushing and shoving for the best place to see and listen to the chief.

Finally, Stoick held up both hands and called for silence. The Hall fell deathly quiet at once. "I've summoned you all here because I have terrible news. I know you've all been wondering what became of Hiccup and Toothless. It is my great regret to inform you that my son was murdered, decapitated, by hunters from Myrkr, and I do not know of Toothless' whereabouts" Stoick announced.

Where before the Hall had been silent, now it was thunderous. Everyone shouted out at once, cries of outrage, cries for blood. "SILENCE!" Stoick bellowed. The quiet returned immediately. "Believe me; I'm just as enraged as you are, and even more devastated. But I have this", here he held up a piece of parchment, "a map, to the hunter's village or trading port. Whatever it is, I think we ought to pay them a visit. These dragon hunters assassinated the heir of Berk, and thus, as Chief, I hereby declare war on their tribe. We will travel to this Raudabein, rescue my son's dragon if they have him captive, and avenge Hiccup once and for all!" Stoick's declaration was met with a hearty, if bloodthirsty cheer from the Vikings of Berk.

"Thank you for standing with me" he told his people, grateful that they were willing to fight by him for this cause. Oh Hiccup. If only you knew how much you're loved. "The council has already agreed that the A-Team will be accompanying this mission." Privately, Stoick was frustrated by that; knowing what he knew now, he didn't want Spitelout coming on a mission of vengeance for his son. Speaking of which…

"There is one other thing. If anyone thinks that my son deserved to meet such an untimely fate, for any reason at all, and they are not a coward, let them say it right now, right to my face" Stoick challenged. He swept his piercing gaze across the assembled crowd, who all stared at him disbelievingly. His glare lingered ever so slightly on Spitelout, until the man looked away. Satisfied, Stoick went on, "That's settled then. My son is not to blame for this, and if anyone thinks otherwise, they'd be wise to stop, or I'll throw them in the well – with the twins" he threatened. There was a shout of dismay…from the twins themselves.

The plan was laid out, and argued over thoroughly until everyone came back around to the original idea. Stoick and the dragon riders would take out the defences, round up the hunters and take over the town, then burn their ships so they couldn't immediately follow and deal a counter-attack. When they found whoever was responsible for his son's death, Stoick would mete out justice himself, with the blade of his own axe.

After the tribal Thing was over, everyone set about preparing for the battle to come. Some went to make sure their ships were seaworthy and stocked with provisions, enough for a six day round trip. That was roughly how long Stoick predicted the journey to Raudabein would take; three days there, and three days back. Gobber went right to work sharpening weapons for every warrior.

The riders, corralled by Astrid, went to do practice runs on dealing with anti-dragon artillery. "We'll start with catapults" Astrid announced, "Dive at the target, and do a" –

"Do a barrel roll to avoid enemy fire" Snotlout finished in a high pitched voice. Astrid glared at him. "For Thor's sake, Astrid, we know. You tell us the same thing every single time!"

"It never hurts to be reminded" she retorted tersely, "especially when there's so much at stake, and some of us could use the practice…"

"What are you saying? That you think we're not good enough?"

"What? No! That's not what I meant" she protested. Still, she looked uneasy.

The twins began to jump onto Snotlout's wagon. "You do think we're not good enough, don't you?" Ruffnut asked accusingly. "Don't even try to deny it, sister!" she exclaimed when Astrid made to insist otherwise. "You really think we can't hear what you say about me and Tuffnut, or Snotlout here, behind our backs? You think we're just gonna mess this up, don't you?"

Astrid's patience, which was never particularly her strong suit, wore thin and snapped. "Maybe that's because you do! It's what you two are known for!"

"Us two?" Tuffnut cried indignantly. "I hope, madam, you're talking about Ruffnut and Snotlout" –

"Hey!"

"Cos in case you've forgotten, there was that time my ideas helped us defend the Edge from dragon hunters, when all your ideas failed."

"Uh, guys…?"

"They didn't fail, they just…okay, well what about all the times you have messed up? Or asked a stupid question, or done something so muttonheaded…"

"Not cool, Astrid! Not cool! You are an awful leader, missy. It's not like you're little miss perfect! Oh, but you are little miss I-mistimed-my-somersault-roll" –

"Guys, I think" –

"Why you-?! I'll show you a somersault roll!" Astrid yelled, lunging at Ruffnut.

"DAGUR'S HERE!" Fishlegs shouted at the top of his lungs. Everybody, including the fighting Ruff and Astrid, stared at him. He pointed up at where the familiar silhouettes of a Razorwhip and a Triple Stryke were approaching Berk, heading right for the training ring. Swiftly, Astrid got off of Ruffnut and moved away, both of them awkwardly avoiding each other's gazes. The riders and dragons stood back as their friends landed in the arena.

"Hello, dragon riders!" Dagur crowed, vaulting off of Sleuther's back. He grinned manically and announced, "Sorry to drop in unannounced, but things have been pretty quiet on a Berserker Island lately, and by quiet I mean boring. So I thought, where do we know that's always interesting? Berk! Heather and I thought we'd come for a visit, didn't we, sis?"

Heather dismounted from Windshear and walked over to join them. "We would've waited until it was time for the treaty signing, but I admit it's nice to see you guys more than once a year. Is…everything alright?" she asked in concern, noticing how quiet everyone was. Snotlout hadn't tried to hit on her, and Fishlegs didn't look happy to see her (well, he did, but he looked worried as well). Even Astrid hadn't come to give her a hug like they usually did.

Oblivious, Dagur looked around the ring and noticed there was one rider missing. "Hey, where's Hiccup? I wanted to show him this new trick Sleuther and I came up with. I call it the Dagapult. If you know where he is, we can go find him and show him" the Berserker chief suggested brightly. His smile faded as he looked at the riders and saw how none of them would meet his gaze, how Astrid had gone pale and thin-lipped. Dagur frowned. "What's going on?"

"Guys?" Heather asked, more worried by the moment. "Is something wrong?"

They all glanced at each other…then Astrid took a deep, if shaking breath and squared her shoulders. This was her burden to bear. "Heather…Dagur. I am so sorry. I don't know how to tell you this, but Hiccup…Hiccup is…"

"DEAD?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN MY BROTHER IS DEAD?!"

When Astrid divulged the terrible news, needless to say Dagur did not take it well. "Who was it?" he demanded in a low, dangerous growl. "Who killed him?"

Astrid replied, "Dragon hunters. From Myrkr. They…they b-beheaded him" she made herself say, feeling sick at the mere thought. Heather's eyes went wide in horror; Dagur's eye started twitching.

"They…they…oh, really? When I get my hands on those bastards, I'm gonna chop their heads off and see how they like it! No, first I'm gonna chop off their arms, and then their legs, and then I'm gonna roast their limbs on a spit, and then I'm gonna…" On he went, pacing back and forth wringing the air between his hands in an invisible chokehold.

Heather turned back to Astrid and inquired, "I don't understand; how did they even get to him? Were you guys attacked?" Then a thought occurred to her. "What happened to Toothless?" Surely, his dragon would never let Hiccup be killed – unless the Night Fury had perished too?

Astrid opened her mouth to speak, closed it again, and shook her head. She looked as if she was on the verge of tears. Heather put an arm around her shoulders, and she sniffled. "No, it…he…Johann was here the day before yesterday. He told us about this ship he'd heard about, that was attacked off the coast of Myrkr. The one survivor described the dragons who attacked them…as if they were Night Furies.

"You know how much Hiccup wanted to find more of Toothless' own kind. Stoick forbade us from going, but he…he left that night. They flew to Myrkr, and by the time we realised where he'd gone, they were too far ahead. We…we didn't get there in time…" Astrid broke down and let out a sob. Heather pulled her into a tight hug, feeling tears prick at her own eyes.

Snotlout took over the explanation without being asked. "When we got there….we found his body, and the hunters were nowhere to be seen. Neither was Toothless. They must have taken him, but we have no idea if he's alive or dead. Odds are…it's probably the latter" he said regretfully.

"Does Johann know?" Heather couldn't help but ask. "About what happened, I mean?" She could only imagine how horrified the man would have been, or would be, when he found out.

Astrid nodded sadly. "He stayed an extra day to resupply and make some repairs to his ship…and talk. When he heard that Hiccup had left he waited for us to come back with him" she explained.

When they had returned without Hiccup and Toothless, Johann had been devastated. He blamed himself; after all, it was his story that gave Hiccup the idea to go to Myrkr. Timidly, Johann asked Gobber to pass on to Stoick his deepest condolences…and a request for continued safe passage through Berk's waters. Gobber assured him there wouldn't be any trouble, but suggested that perhaps it was best if he departed. Nobody had seen the trader since.

"Gods" Heather breathed out, "I'm so sorry, Astrid. I can't imagine how hard this is for you" she murmured sympathetically, keeping an arm around her friends' shoulder. Heather could hardly believe it; the thought of Hiccup and Toothless not being here was just…inconceivable. She was putting a brave face for Astrid's sake, but she too wanted to scream and rage at the gods and the cruel hunters who had taken Hiccup's life, just as Dagur was doing.

Brushing away her tears, Astrid shakily replied "Y-yeah, it's…I don't know what to do" she confessed, fresh tears welling up in her eyes. She had never cried this much, not even when her favourite uncle had died. It was as if the empty space Hiccup had left in her heart was filled with her weeping. Ruffnut's right. I'm a horrible leader. At least, she was compared to Hiccup. He wouldn't have criticised the team…his friends…and insulted them the way she had.

"Ruffnut? Look, I'm…I'm sorry, okay? You guys aren't screw-ups" she admitted, hoping to ease the ache of guilt in her chest. Ruffnut magnanimously accepted her apology, and even agreed that she might have gone a bit too far herself.

Dagur ran out of steam at last and came back from his circling to join them. "Isn't there any way to find these wretches?" he demanded.

"As a matter of fact, there is" Snotlout replied, "The chief found a map to the hunter's village. He's just declared war on them. We're going to head there tomorrow and make them pay for what they've done" he declared, punching one fist into the palm of his other hand.

Fishlegs interjected, "We're also going to try and rescue Toothless, if he's still alive, and they have him held captive. It's a long shot…but it's what Hiccup would have wanted." He didn't even really care about getting revenge; if there was a chance they could honour Hiccup's memory by rescuing his dragon, or any other dragons these horrible people had imprisoned, then they had to take it.

"You're waging war? The Berserkers will wage war on the hunters with you!"

"Uh, Dagur, I'm not sure that's a good" –

"Where is Stoick? Never mind, I'll find him" Dagur announced, rushing back to Sleuther and taking off. Heather stared after him, and then rolled her eyes in exasperation. This is so typical of him she thought resignedly.

The first place that Dagur looked for the chief of Berk was his own house. This proved to be more fruitful than he expected, because when he knocked on the door (and Heather thought he couldn't be polite!), he was met with an impatient shout of "Go away!" from the man himself. Taking the shout as an invitation, Dagur opened the door and strode right in.

Stoick looked up from where he was polishing his axe, glaring fiercely. "Are you deaf? I just said…" He trailed off when he saw who it was. "Dagur? What in Thor's name are you doing here? On Berk? In my house?"

Dagur got right to business. "Chief Stoick, the Berserker tribe stands with yours in this most difficult time, and when you attack the murderers village you will have my entire armada backing you up" he declared. "Vengeance will be ours!"

Stoick sighed, and set his weapon aside. "You've heard, then."

"Heather and I came for a visit. We didn't expect this." Dagur hesitated. "Listen, Chief; I know we don't have the best, uh, history…but you have to believe me when I say that I am so very sorry for your loss. Hiccup and I…we might have been enemies for a time, but he really did become like a little brother to me. I just…I can't believe he's gone" he lamented.

Thus was Stoick treated to the awkward sight of the Berserker chieftain on the verge of breaking down in tears. Now I know how everyone else feels. "None of us can" he admitted solemnly. Unsure how to offer comfort, or even if he should, Stoick instead settled a hand on the other man's shoulder. "Thank you, Dagur. For offering your support."

Dagur took a deep breath and replied, "Don't forget about the armada."

"Ah…it's not that I don't appreciate the offer, but I don't think the armada will be necessary" said Stoick, as tactfully as he could manage.

"But it is. If you're declaring war on these nithingrs, you need to attack from a position of strength. Show that you are no tribe to be messed with. That's why I always sailed with the armada whenever I attacked Berk…" Dagur trailed off when he saw the expression on Stoick's face. "Right. Bad time. The point is, you don't just wanna declare war, you want to win it. And the only way to do that is to make them more afraid to attack you back" he argued.

Stoick nodded slowly. "Alright. Let's say I agree…I still think your whole armada would be a bit, well, overkill." They both winced a bit at that last word.

"Can I at least bring along half?" Dagur pouted.

"There's no time" Stoick insisted. He relented a little though, and declared "But if you and Heather agree to it, you can come with us to deliver this first strike."

Dagur nodded vigorously. "Oh, we're coming. Wild dragons couldn't keep us away! Besides, I never told anyone how long we'd be gone for…how long is that, exactly?" he inquired tentatively.

"Six days."

"Oh, that's alright" Dagur shrugged dismissively, "I've been away much longer than that before. So, what's our battle strategy? I think we should attack at night to have the element of surprise…"

"I'll let Astrid explain all that to you" Stoick announced, all but pushing Dagur out of the door. "And remember, Dagur; I am commanding this battle, and I will be the one to take vengeance for my son's death. You and the other riders, your task is to rescue the dragons, including Toothless if it's possible. That must be your priority" the chief insisted.

"Yes – okay, got it. You're the boss. Chief. Whatever. Are you sure you don't want my" – Stoick slammed the door in his face. "…help?"

Four days later, the dragon riders were approaching the southern shores of Myrkr. It appeared the tales that no-one could go to the Land of Darkness and come back alive were somewhat exaggerated. Further south, below the forests and the mountains that dominated this strange land, there were a few scattered farming and fishing villages. Not too different from Berk, really.

As they flew towards the village of Raudabein, it occurred to Astrid that if she could have seen Berk from the air, during the war, it would look like this. Bristling with anti-dragon defences, catapults, flaming torches (unlit in the daylight) and mounted crossbows. Then she remembered that she had seen Berk from the air during the war; only that had been in the middle of the night.

A cold pang hit her chest at the memory. Every memory of Hiccup hurt; especially the moments they had shared. She didn't think she'd ever meet anyone as perfect as him; certainly not on Berk, probably not in the whole archipelago. He was…incomparable. Astrid couldn't help but pray that they would find Toothless; even though the dragon would surely be heartbroken, they could grieve together, and she'd keep a little more of Hiccup with her.

They were getting closer. Astrid couldn't hear much over the rush of wind around Stormfly's wings, but she could see tiny figures hurrying to load catapults and aim crossbows. They were attacking in broad daylight; they'd lost the element of surprise, but for all his grief-fuelled anger, Stoick was still honorable. He wouldn't just set upon the village and burn it to the ground (even if it was what they deserved) without giving them a chance to fight back.

"Okay, guys, this is it! You know what to do. Remember, stay in formation!"

The gap was closing quickly. The dragons began to descend; the fleet was swiftly approaching the fjord that formed a natural harbour. The seconds ticked down. Stoick raised his war-hammer high above his head, and yelled out, "CHARGE!"

Stormfly, Hookfang, Kingstail and Fanghook dived to meet the first wave of arrows loosed in their direction. Swathes of fire erupted from their jaws, scorching the shafts to ash and leaving the poisoned tips to tumble harmlessly back to the ground or into the sea. The Monstrous Nightmares peeled off and flamed up; the Nadders shot precisely aimed quills through their flames that sped, now alight, towards the hunters, who yelled and scattered.

Boulders were launched; the Zipplebacks released clouds of gas that engulfed the rocks and sparked it up. The explosion turned rocks into rubble, and the Gronckles made short work of any left over. That only left the nets to deal with; but Windshear's white-hot fire and slicing tail made short work of those, whilst Sleuther took out the launchers with streams of flame.

Skull Crusher made a rush for a gap in their defences. Two nets spun towards him, one from each side. "Skull Crusher, drop!" Stoick yelled, just as the nets were about to ensnare them. The Rumblehorn snapped his wings to his sides and plummeted a few metres, just enough for the nets to clash and tangle above their heads. Stoick swatted them aside with his hammer as the dragon regained control and blasted the trebuchet in front of him to ashes.

That was it; they were past the defences. Skull Crusher landed on the remains of the trebuchet; Stoick leapt down from the saddle and charged, bellowing, at the nearest hunter. One swing of his hammer sent the man's sword flying out of his hands, and Stoick grabbed him by the neck. "Where is your Chief?!"

"He's not here!" the hunter protested, scrabbling at Stoick's fingers wrapped around his throat. "I swear, he's not here, please don't hurt me!"

Skull Crusher was keeping the other hunters nearby at bay, growling at them and pawing the ground. They kept their distance, eyes fixed on him and Stoick. "I didn't ask where he's not!" the Berkian Chief glared at the man struggling and cowering in his grasp. "I asked where he is! Tell him to come out and face me!"

This he shouted at the watching hunters…although, now that he thought about it, they were dressed oddly. All wearing the same plain brown long sleeved tunic and trousers, barely any armour, and they were hardly fighting back. One of them fell to his knees before Stoick and pleaded, "Please, sir, we can't. The chief isn't here; he left with his hunters more than a week ago, none of us know where they went. Please, I beg you, have mercy. We only followed orders!"

Now thoroughly disturbed, Stoick released his grip on the man, who scrambled away. "What do you mean, 'left with his hunters'?" he demanded, scowling. "You are dragon hunters!"

There was a silence that lasted seconds but seemed to stretch for hours. Then the man he had threatened shook his head and replied, "No, not us." He reached up, and pulled down the collar of his tunic to reveal, branded on his left shoulder…a slavemark. He wasn't the only one; all over, the dragon riders were cornering hunters, only to discover they weren't hunters at all, but thralls.

Stoick was taken aback, but only for a moment. "Dragon hunters killed my son" he growled, "and I know they come from this village. If you don't know where they are, then who does? Answer me!"

The man flinched. "His wife" he answered at once, "she might know. I'll take you to her." He got to his feet and beckoned for Stoick to follow him, nervously watching Skull Crusher as he did so.

"Thank you" Stoick nodded to him. The man blinked as if surprised, and then replied, "…You're welcome, sir."

A shadow fell over them; Astrid and Stormfly hovered overhead. The thralls cringed; a few raised weapons, but didn't use them. "Chief! We've taken out all the defences, but these people, they're not"-

"I know, Astrid. Find out if they have any dragons held captive and free them. I'm going to find out where the chief of this charming village has gone."

"You mean they're not here?!"

"Go, Astrid!"

"…Aye, Chief. Good luck!"

"You too, lass."

The thralls led Stoick to an underground cavern, in which the rest of the tribe – the women, children, elderly and infirm – were hiding. They huddled together as the bear of a Chief strode in, armed and furious, Skull Crusher close on his heels. Then one of them, a lovely if beleaguered looking woman with dark hair, stepped forwards as if she alone could shield her people from Stoick the Vast.

"Who are you?" she demanded, and then to the thrall who had led him there, "How dare you lead the enemy here. You've betrayed us!"

He fell to his knees in supplication. "Please, forgive me, mistress. I never meant to betray you or your husband; you may punish me as you see fit."

Deeply disturbed by the man's words, Stoick insisted "Leave him be! I made him bring me here. It's not his fault. I am Stoick the Vast, Chief of the Hooligan Tribe of Berk. And you must be the wife of the chief of this tribe" he surmised.

She drew herself up and nodded, once. "I am Kalda, wife of Hauke. If you've come for my husband, you won't find him here. He won't be returning to Raudabein for months." Kalda didn't sound too regretful about that.

"But where has he gone?" Stoick demanded impatiently. "My son was slain by dragon hunters five days past, and I know they came from this village. Tell me where they went, and we will leave in peace." He meant it; discovering that the 'hunters' attacking them were really slaves following orders, and seeing all these civilians huddled in hiding, made Stoick realise that he had declared war on a whole village for the crime of a few. Hiccup would never have wanted this.

Kalda shook her head. "I don't know where he is. No, really, I don't!" she protested, when Stoick's fingers tightened around the shaft of his hammer. "He leaves, but he never tells me where he goes. He doesn't want me to betray him. All I know is that he and his men will have gone to rendezvous with the army and drop off their latest catch of dragons."

Army? Dragons? Those two words made the hairs on the back of Stoick's neck stand up. "What army?" he questioned immediately, praying it wasn't what he feared. It can't be that. Please, don't let it be that, don't let it be him…

Despite his silent pleas, Kalda replied with the one answer he didn't want to hear. "You mean you don't know? Hauke sells the dragons he captures on voyages to Drago Bludvist. You're lucky, if you've never heard of him."

"No…no, I know him…I've seen him…" Stoick whispered, hammer going slack in his hand. I alone control the dragons…if you bow down and follow me…then see how well you do without me! The Althing Hall, bursting into flames; armoured dragons crashing through the roof; everyone running and screaming; Stoick throwing himself through burning timbers to escape, watching as his fellow chiefs were trapped by the collapsing building, as men flew away on dragons…

He blinked, realising that Kalda was speaking again. "I've told you all I know. Now keep your side of the bargain and leave. You and all those dragon riders."

Slowly, he nodded. "Of course. Come on, Skull Crusher." The dragon snorted as if impatient, and wheeled around to trudge out of the doorway.

"Wait!" Kalda suddenly cried out. Stoick paused, looking back over his shoulder at her. She swallowed, looking less like a shield-maiden standing up to invaders in her home, and more like a frightened mother. "Please…my eldest son is with Hauke. He's under his father's thumb, but Adulfr is..he's not…I know your son must have died on Hauke's orders, if not by his hand, so it's only fair that you…but please, have mercy on mine" she begged Stoick, tears in her eyes.

He could hardly believe what she was saying. Did she honestly think he would kill her son just because her husband had killed his? "I won't harm your son" he promised. He would make no such pledge about not killing this 'Hauke'. Any man who kept thralls, who tried to control his wife, who worked for that madman…Stoick would probably want him dead even if he wasn't responsible for Hiccup's death. With that, he climbed up onto the saddle, and they took off.

Skull Crusher hovered high above the village. Fortunately, from what Stoick could see, the houses had escaped destruction. His ill-conceived plan of vengeance would not disrupt Raudabein too much, or so he hoped. How strange to wish that for the village of his enemy…but they were not the enemy. Stoick knew exactly who was, now. His dragon roared, and the others gathered.

From their expressions, he could tell their mission had not gone entirely to plan either. "We freed every dragon we could" Astrid informed the chief, "but Toothless…he's not here. Those hunters still have him…if he's even alive. We failed" she said despondently. Unbeknownst to her, at almost this very moment, Hiccup and Toothless were trying and failing to escape from the hunters.

Stoick denied it. "You haven't failed, Astrid. Releasing those dragons was not a failure. Besides, we're finished here. The call to war is off. Let's go home." His tone brook no disagreement, and although a few of them – well, one of them – looked ready to protest, a single glare from the chief had everyone dutifully flying back east. Kalda's words ran in his ears. Hauke works for Drago Bludvist.

When they returned to Berk three days later, Stoick called the dragon riders – the original team – to the training ring for an emergency meeting. In solemn tones, he explained to them what he'd learned from Kalda. He told them of Drago Bludvist, and what happened the last time that monster came to the archipelago, and what it meant if he had truly returned.

They listened wide-eyed, and when he was finished, Fishlegs asked shakily, "Th-there's…there's someone gathering a dragon armyout there? B-but what about our dragons?" He clutched nervously at his Gronckle as if afraid she'd be snatched away right there and then. She rumbled and licked his cheek.

"That's what I'm worried about, Fishlegs" Stoick admitted. "Drago Bludvist is a madman, without conscience or mercy…and if he's raised a dragon army, then gods help us. That's why I need you all to shake down the archipelago and see if you can track down the whereabouts of this army, or whether it's heading for us. No, it's not a matter of if – it's a matter of when. We need to be prepared."

"Don't try to take them on" he warned sternly. "Whatever you find out, come straight back here and tell me. Don't go out alone, travel in pairs. Which in your case", he looked pointedly at the twins, "does not mean just the two of you. Take someone from the A-Team with you, if you have to. Keep out of trouble, don't draw attention to yourselves, and make sure your dragons do the same. This is a matter of life and death. Do you all understand?" Stoick questioned.

All of them nodded – except Tuffnut, who saluted. Astrid stepped forwards and boldly met the chieftain's eyes. "The hunters from Raudabein. Their chief, you said his wife told you they had gone to rendezvous with this army. Which means…if we find the army, we find whoever killed Hiccup."

"This isn't about revenge anymore, Astrid" Stoick tried to insist. "It's about protecting our tribe. I hate to say it, but this is bigger than Hiccup…oh, who am I kidding? A bit of vengeance would go down a treat…but I don't want you lot taking unnecessary risks trying to avenge my son, okay? Leave that to me."

"Okay, Chief. But if this is our only chance to find the bastards that took him from us and make them pay, then we're in. Aren't we, girl?" she asked Stormfly, who rattled her spines and croaked an affirmative.

Expressions of resolve came over the other rider's faces. "Hiccup was our best friend" Fishlegs declared, "Meatlug and I are in." She set her feet and snarled.

"Hey, don't count out me and Fangster. Those hunters are gonna get roasted for what they did to Hiccup." Hookfang flamed up and growled menacingly.

"As my sister-nut and I like to say, if you mess with one rider, you get the whole…uh…what do you call a group of dragon riders? Team? Posse? Flock?"

"We'll worry about that later. Point is, we're in. All four of us" Ruffnut announced, gesturing to herself, her brother and Barf&Belch.

All of them were determined to find this army; to protect their home, and their dragons from this madman Bludvist; and, Thor willing, to find the hunters responsible for Hiccup's death, and avenge the heir of Berk once and for all.