This chapter sets the ball in place, and it is going to start rolling at massive speed. The pace will be quick as many things happen together – but for now, Welcome to Thuggory and Heather's wedding.

A quick note; Characters from the book are adopted into this story in a very cavalier manner, where they are not, necessarily, in the same role in this story as they are in the books. Dogsbreath, for instance, has been given a promotion and a personality transplant.

I would appreciate if you could all read the notes at the bottom, which help explain a number of elements that were not necessarily intrinsic to the story and would have bogged down the exposition side of things, but that I know some readers will be curious about.

Berkian Eddur - 1

Becoming Lífþrasir

Wedding Gifts

The ribaldry and the din swelled like a physical thing, rippling up the hall's ceiling in waves before it burst against the ramparts and echoed back like a tide. Heather looked on with a giddy smile, quite unable to get the foolish expression off her face as she adjusted her bridal crown and stopped it from falling into her eyes again.

The majority of their ally clans had replied to the summons with a variety of numbers. The Bogs had only brought the Chief's family and two other women, enough to handle the small skiff they'd come in, while the Trollguts and UglyThugs had sent a modest longboat of people, as had the Beserkers and Hopeless. The Hooligans, on the other hand had climbed the horizon with fifteen longboats strong, and Brawlknife had initially thought they were answering some unintentional offense in their invitation until Stoick had greeted him cordially at the docks.

Her eyes automatically sought out her brand spanking new husband, running over the intoxicated crowds. When she spotted him, head down with Stoick the Vast, his father, and a select group of others, however, her smile did begin to fade; she knew that look. It was not one of Thuggory's happy looks. Fingering her loose black hair (down for the last time), she contemplated going to them for a moment, but even as she looked, the group broke up. Judging by the collective expression, no one had much liked the agreement they had come to, but none of them disliked it enough to come to blows about it, or worse.

Right away, Thuggory caught her searching eyes and flinched slightly, before his stormy expression cleared into a something else and he made a beeline for his high seat beside her.

"Which husband leaves his beautiful wife alone on her wedding day," he said with chagrin. Heather simply shook her head and kissed his cheek.

"I know I'm marrying the chief's son. Some things have to be done." She scooted closer to him. "That is forgiven; but I won't forgive you keeping secrets."

He smirked. He knew as well as she did that though her offer of an ear was genuine, she was also dying with curiosity. "I didn't intend to," he placated her, throwing an arm around and speaking in her ear so no one would overhear. It had other … interesting repercussions on her state of mind.

"So, I know you're wondering why half of Berk came to Freezing to Death for our wedding. Not that the heir to the Meathead tribe isn't worth that, but moving on," he began. She nodded against his shoulder. "Well, apparently because they're on the way to somewhere else. Somewhere else huge."

"This 'somewhere else' has this furrow on your face, then?" she asked, running a finger pad down the line of his frown. As always, it had the effect of smoothing it out.

"Yeah … amongst other things." He bit his lip and moved his head back far enough to look at her. "Look, you know the deal with 'Cattongue', right?" he said, and waited for her to nod before he continued. "Well, that's actually his old clan. The chief's his dad, and … well, you know how he is, stubborn as a buck in rut? His dad's worse." He gave an eloquent groan. "And they're about to do something very, very stupid."

"And you've got a solution that will have repercussions," Heather concluded with a smile. Thuggory grinned at her.

"I knew there was a reason I married you beyond the good looks and hotness!" he cackled, and took the punch to the gut gamely. "But yeah, there'll be repercussions alright … and I'm not even sure it's a solution. See, I'll tell it all – 'specially since the repercussions are mostly you. My dad, too, and yours, but you're the one who'll roast me on the spit for five nights and then roll me in salt in the morning."

Heather merely raised a brow at him, trying to hide her alarm. They were already married, so the fear she'd had of Brawlknife's often mercenary thoughts of marrying his son off for a profit had faded. However, this somehow sounded solidly similar. Thuggory winced again, and brought his mouth close to her ear once more, which did nothing to help her concentrate.

"Thing is, they're planning to do the completely crazy and impossible. They plan to sail the long way to Helheim's Gate, back around the Boggies and towards Berk, then straight starboard. And this time, I have a good hunch they'll manage to find Dragon Island. And once they're there …"

"…They all plan to get slaughtered," Heather finished, aghast. Those of them who were taught dragon riding had learned what truly lay at the bottom of Dragon Island, in a not-so-dormant state. It had helped that Hiccup had shown Thuggory what to do in order to deal with the worst offenders in the dragon pilfering league, all without hurting them, but Freezing To Death didn't suffer as badly as Berk did, being that apparently, based upon Hiccup's calculations, the Hooligan's home was a mere day away from the volcano isle as the dragon flies.

"Yup, that's pretty much their plan and they don't know it, either. None of us have agreed to go – All the chiefs up here North know what's on that isle, but there's no way to tell Stoick without telling him about our dragon companions and who told us about it. Dad tried to dissuade Stoick, but he's stuck on the idea as a dog on a bone. Which is why, I thought the best thing to do is go find Hiccup on Fanghorn's back, and try to head them off before they all get turned to ash."

Heather looked at him for a moment, blinking. "You plan to fly that half-wild dragon of yours across the ocean, towards an isle you barely know the coordinates of, to get a man you don't know will be interested in saving these people?"

"He'll be, I know it." Looking at his expression told her everything. Heather nodded in agreement, but she still pursed her lips.

"When do they plan to leave?" she asked, trying to calculate it all in her mind. Subtlety was her job in this relationship, and she was frighteningly good at it. The Hooligans were going to have a considerable head-start, but even with favourable winds, there was a distance to travel, and they would only beat Hiccup to the isle by a few hours when he was riding a dragon.

"In two dawns, counting tomorrow," was the reply, and she nodded.

"At least I DO get a wedding night," she said cheekily, and enjoyed watching the great Meathead tribe heir blush to the roots. "I say you go after the morning gift, no one will come looking for you then if I stay in our bedroom." It was her turn to colour; she wasn't yet used to the plural.

"Ah, good plan! Hiccup left me the location of his island in case of emergency, and with Fanghorn I know I can get there by tomorrow night if we go really fast. Then we can just fly right to the island-"

"I want to know what's going on," hissed a voice right beside them. Thuggory and Heather jumped and swerved to find Cami's face inches from their own, looking mightily incensed. "And don't you dare tell me 'nothing', not unless you want Heather to be tragically widowed."

"Again with the sneaking," Thuggory growled. Cami simply smirked.

"What did you expect from the future chief of the Bog Burglars?" her chest puffed out, before she sat down more comfortably beside them. Dogsbreath stood stonily to the side waiting for Thuggory to signal, one way or another, what to do with the intrusion; the taciturn UglyThug Viking had only been outclassed by Hiccup in his propensity to utter a volume with one look. Glancing at Thuggory, Heather let him know once again that he had acquired a new set of nonverbal problems; she told him another little egg had hatched in her mind.

"Say; how are you and Sting coming along?" she asked Cami. The Boggy smirked.

"We're in business," she replied. Heather smirked back.

"Yes, we are," Heather replied smugly, and she could feel her new husband swallow beside her at her open display of her natural mischievous plotting. To help Hiccup, they were going to need all the help they could get, and Heather wasn't about to turn any grain away before the Winter.

=0=

Snotlout stood on the bow, one foot up on a barrel, back straight and chest out, watching the foam as the longboat cut the water, and felt proud. Here he was, the hero of his generation, standing tall and strong on the first longboat of their fleet as the Chief's family, headed for the mission of the century.

He snickered to himself; the other clans were all cowards. None of them had joined them, not even one longboat between the rest of the Viking archipelago was wrestled up among the ale-riddled participants of the wedding from the other isles of the barbaric territory. They, on the other hand, the proud Hooligan tribe were on their way to become legends. There was nothing anyone could do now but to prepare their edda of triumph.

He looked back towards the aft. Astrid stood there, a hand keeping balance on one of the mast's tethers, taking deep breaths of sea-air. The stupidly precious axe, which had been unused for so long, was strapped to her back, the head covered in cloth so that none of the salt would get to it. It was the only thing that marred Snotlout's perfect mood; by all rights, she should have been his by now. He had never stopped pursuing her, because why should he? She was engaged to another coward who had escaped so he didn't have to fight the Nightmare or be chief, and who wasn't there to protect the woman who was supposed to be his property. A small voice in Snotlout's head told him Astrid needed little protection, and he ignored it. It was a man's place – and his right and privilege – to protect his property. Since Hiccup wasn't doing his job properly, it was no one's fault but his own if someone else ended up usurping it – or flirting with it. Another voice told him it was probably Hiccup who needed protection, and he listened to this one, snickered to himself and totally agreeing. Because after all, it was the truth, and Hiccup the Useless wasn't called that for nothing. He'd only been 'the Promising' for a short while, after all, and the longer his 'journey' lasted, the better.

Snotlout'd seen through her game though, he was sure of it. Take the place of the Useless. Get into the Chief's good graces. Secure herself in his household and then wait out the time until the traitor run-away could be safely proclaimed dead and claim the headship for herself. This would have the convenient side effect of making her available for marriage in one fell swoop, and in that moment he'd be right there.

Because, come on; who was she going to choose? Tuffnut? Fishlegs the married guy?

A large wave splashed noisily against starboard, bringing him back to the present. He looked back again, and noticed that Astrid had turned to speak with Stoick and Gobber; in fact, it looked like they were having a heated, if hushed, discussion. The stocky youth bristled, both in curiosity and in annoyance; he was Berk's promise from the new generation (except for Astrid, but she was a woman) and had therefore the right to be included in any important conversation. The fact that Stoick was there, and that both he and Astrid were getting red in the face, told him enough.

Seeing as his father was steering the sister longboat of the two point-ships leading the fleet, Snotlout felt no compunction in stepping as nonchalantly as possible within hearing range while appearing to be taking care of some tackle. If he didn't burst into the conversation, he told himself in his own mind, as he had the right to, it was only because they seemed to be heatedly into it already, and an interruption might dismantle their temper completely.

"…something we don't know, Stoick. I can feel it; you saw how they looked at one another and talked in whispers."

"And I told you, that is because they were all sure we were lunatics to take this voyage. Hel, I'm sure we're lunatics to do so, but we have no alternatives now. This idea was yours, Astrid, why are you hesitating now?"

"It's not that, Stoick. Something … some of the way in which they talked and looked at one another. It didn't bode well for us." Her thunderous expression had receded from furious red to a more thrumming, underlying energy. Gobber put a hand on her shoulder.

"It's a'right, lass. We know this won't be a walk on the beach. We're ready for anything that Isle will throw at us. And if we're not… eh!" He shrugged his massive shoulder.

"We're Vikings, It's an occupational hazard."

Astrid didn't look convinced, but before she could say anything else, Sven yelled from the aft.

"Gate, sighted!"

The call was echoed eerily by the other 45 longboats in the fleet. They had joined the rest of them after the wedding on Freezing To Death, proceeding here as speedily as the winds allowed, which had taken long enough. And now, finally, they were there.

"Bring the terrors up!" Stoick bellowed, his frame going rigid. The rest of the longboat crew felt the change in him, and the tension bled like a spilt pail of yak milk across every pair of shoulders on board, then down the line of ships.

The pathetic creatures were brought up, snarling through her muzzles. Their legs were tied, but their wings were not, and once the rope harness around their torso was attached to the mast, they began flapping frantically; all towards Helheim's Gate.

What followed was a tense, horrible journey through the fog. Filed in a straight line, the boats began to navigate the treacherous, narrow channels. No Viking boat had ever come this far, and even later, Snotlout wouldn't remember much of this high-adrenaline, silent part of the ride save snatches. Astrid, unfurling the cloth around her axe; Stoick steering and giving instructions, which all the fleet followed in the hushed awe that seemed to have overtaken everyone; the terrors, flapping more and more frantically as they swerved this way and that on their tethers, always in unison.

Suddenly they were all struggling to remain upright as the boat marooned on a black rock beach. The croon that had been getting louder and louder, and been setting everyone's teeth on edge and everyone's voices to just above a whisper, was deafening now. A crimson tail disappeared into the rock face, and Snotlout almost felt it run up his belly and his back; it was happening. They were-

"We're here," Stoick hissed, jumping off the boat. The crooning stopped instantly. The terrors blinked, looked around, and began making screeching noises as they flew to the mast and tried to climb up it as far as their harness allowed, sharp claws sinking into the wood. Just as Snotlout excitedly rushed to the boat edge to join the preparations, he spotted Astrid looking at the dragons with narrowed eyes.

"You coming?" he said, giving her his best smile, and puffing his chest out to give her his best prospect. Her eyes narrowed further, never leaving the terrors, who were now scrambling up the mast against their ropes. They probably knew they were no longer useful now; there was no need for them to stay alive.

And right on cue, Astrid swung her axe; but instead of Terror heads, it cut through the ropes and dented the mast. The three tiny dragons flapped their wings as hard as they could, rope still dangling like an umbilical cord, as they hightailed it back into the fog.

"You missed," he said, putting a magnanimous tone. "Don't worry, babe, it happens to the best of us – even me, believe it or not. You should have brought your other axe; that one's old."

Astrid had pursed her lips and ignored him, eyes trained on the exiting dragons. On the last sentence she turned her narrowed eyes on him.

"Shut up and get to it," she said. With one fluid move, she was on the skittering rubble and jogging towards the ramparts builders. Snotlout huffed.

"I'll get you yet, and then we'll see how much you like snippy," he grumbled to himself, jumping off to join his father.

=0=

"Absolutely not!" Hiccup bellowed, yelling more than he strictly needed to be heard over the wind.

"As if you have a say in it!" Thuggory replied just as crossly. "You're not the chief of me! And even he has trouble putting a leash on all this!"

Hiccup winced. "You just got married!" Their dragons began dipping as Freezing To Death came in sight, and Thuggory had to struggle slightly to stop Fanghorn from doddering off to wherever he wanted to go on the island, instead of the main village square.

"And the woman is in total agreement!" As they landed, Hiccup steered Toothless to perform a somersault that brought them to land in front of Thuggory's thunderdrum, cutting them off. "Show off!"

"I won't let you, Thuggory. There is just no way. In fact, I'm going off right now; I couldn't let you fly out here on your own, with neither you nor Fang' being accustomed to flying alone yet, but I've already lost a whole day coming here, and I'll lose another making it to the Gate if you come. There isn't any way in which you can fly fast enough-"

"Thuggory! You found him!"

Hiccup's tirade was interrupted by Heather, who ran up to the two mounted men, her emerald green Nadder following behind her mellowly. Hiccup huffed in annoyance at being interrupted, but still smiled at the new bride.

"Heather!" he called out. "Thank you for interrupting your honey month to come and warn me."

"Hey, I did all the work!" Thuggory objected, and Fanghorn gave a snort. Hiccup reached down and patted the massive dragon between the eyes.

"Thank you, too." Before he could say something else (and before Thuggory could whine anymore), Heather began fastening a number of bags to her Nadder's saddle, who bent placidly to let her do so in comfort. Dogsbreath followed with a Gronkle, who stopped every few paces to eat a pebble or two. "What are you guys doing?!"

"Isn't it obvious?" the woman quipped back, patting her braids and tightening the saddle on Clover. "We're coming with."

"That's out of th-"

"What's going on here!"

Hiccup couldn't stop his face from splitting into a smile. It was the first time he'd been more than a little glad to see the chief of the Meatheads.

"Son, you're suppose` ta be locked up in'a that hut of yours, screwing the lights out of this girlie here!" Ok, already less glad to see him. Toothless gave a painful groan – his dragon was even less used to 'Viking subtlety' than Hiccup himself was. "Instead I find you out here, with these scallywags, off ta go on a caper. What's the story?!"

"Dad!" Thuggory responded before Hiccup could intervene. "Cattongue's off to save those stupid Hooligans, and I'm not about to let him go alone."

"And what business is it of yours!" the Chief bellowed back, standing akimbo and looking slightly on the mead. "In fact, what business do you have bein' out of that hut and not making me grandbabies!" Hiccup had the decency not to snicker, despite how red Thuggory's ears got. "Why, I ought to put you over m' knee and spank you like the lad you are, get back inside!"

A chill went down Hiccup's back, and he sat up straighter on Toothless. That order reminded him of another time, and he suddenly cottoned on to exactly what the worst case scenario to this hare-brained venture of his could be. A part of him hadn't yet realised what he was about to do; he was about to save half of Berk from its stupidity, yes, but in the process, he was going to expose himself to them, again. The feelings of being Hiccup the Useless, Hiccup the Unwanted, resurfaced uncomfortably through the layers of self-assuredness he'd gained in the past years, and he lost a precious few seconds to trample them down.

Seconds within which Cami, wearing her armour and a wide leer, landed her changewing right beside the Meathead chief, who jumped, and turned to glare at her.

"Yeah, stay at home Thug-Thug, while he and I go save the day and hog all the glory." The sing-song tone only made her condescending, half-lidded look worse. "It's no place for little boys. Though of course, Cattongue can take it." She turned her leer towards him, a wink ready on her eye.

"What!" Thuggory's father seemed to have increased three sizes, going red in the face as his chest swelled with anger. "Never let it be said tha' a Meadhead didn't do something a Bogger did!"

"No one said that but you, Chief," Cami went on, completely unafraid of enraging the Meathead Chief. Everyone knew not to make war with the Bog Burglars – not only where they jaw-droppingly powerful in battle. Odds were you would wake up on the morning of the battle in just your underpants, as you'd been robbed blind during the night – even if you were awake and on patrol. "And anyway, I agree. 'S no place for little boys. Not like Stoick will be grateful, or anything, and might sign a new treaty with you. After all, the constant dragon fighting hasn't made them tough at all; not good allies in a fight. They may not even need our help!"

Reverse psychology, fortunately, didn't always work.

"That's right!" the Chief said, pushing his fists farther into his hips. "Stoick's a good man and knows a good way to Valhalla, but he also wouldn'a slaughter `is own folk. He'll know a lost battle when he sees one, and he'll retreat."

"You obviously don't know him," Hiccup replied before he could stop himself. There was a moment of silence as the Chief turned to look at him.

"What'ya mean by that, boy?" Hiccup – or Cattongue as Chief Brawlknife knew him – had never once said a word out of place to Thuggory's father, as he was too conscious of his position as a guest every time he visited. But now, the tension was mounting on Hiccup's shoulders as he felt every moment passing by as if it were a dear life lost – like Gobber, or his father, of Phlegma, who always gave him honeyed berries as a child , or her – and the caution could sod off with the wind. "It's n'a like you can speak for the Hooligan Chief as if y'a knew him-"

"I would know my own father!" he said, finally losing his patience. Steering Toothless around, he took his helmet off its place tied on Toothless' saddle and slammed it on, securing it at the back by sliding the metal plates in place. It was a mistake, of course; he'd spoken out of turn and said too much. If he survived this battle, he would have one place less to go to, and he quite liked Freezing. But the odds of that were slim.

"Stoick's boy!" Then the Chief did something unexpected. He burst out laughing. Hiccup blinked at him through the eye-holes. "Oh I should'a seen it coming! He's been on and on at every Thing, talking abou' how his boy's out advent'ring. And who's the only one's been coming and going these years? Is you that's who is!" Hiccup blinked back at him, not quite knowing what to think of that. Brawlknife stood straighter and went serious (or as serious as his ruddy cheeks and state of at least slight inebriation could allow). "What you waiting for then, boy? Off you get after your people." He made a hand-waving motion, then turned to Thuggory. "And you, you'd better go off and come back better than this one. We can'a have the Hooligans being the ones with a better heir'n the Meatheads! We'd lose our reputation!"

Hiccup groaned behind his mask as the rest of his friends turned sly expressions on him. He'd unknowingly convinced the chief to let them go. Thuggory slapped his armoured shoulder. Within moments, Dogsbreath had gotten on Farthog and Heather had leapt on Clover, leaving them all looking at Hiccup expectantly. Dogsbreath's father, the Chief of the UglyThugs, was nowhere in sight, but Hiccup could simply delay no longer.

"Fine. But I'm making this up as I go… literally. Let me think some on the way there, and then I'll tell you what we'll do. Deal?"

"Deal with it," Cami answered cheekily. Hiccup sighed.

"Alright, team," he said, steeling his voice. The time to be sorry for himself about losing the argument would come later. "Let's go."

With a leap, the dragons left the island one after the other, headed towards Helheim's gate.

=0=

And the real action begins …

Most of you will probably be surprised that this is happening so quickly – please trust that the plot of this story is slightly different. Hiccup is a kind-hearted man hardened by life here, and drawing him out of his island and vagabond life necessitated something rather massive (pun intended), and that needs to occur first for him to face his past.

1) A note on the Tribes: Hiccup's teachings have NOT been overtly shared between tribes, except the Meatheads, Bog Burglars and UglyThugs who know of each other, for the same reason that Stoick hides all the dragons on Berk the first time Dagur appears as the new Berserker chief. Every tribe who had dragon companions could be seen as a threat by all the others, meaning that it has all been kept discreet. Hiccup has encouraged this, as it helps him keep his own secrecy while he travels the Viking archipelago.

The younger generations, of course, are more lax about things, especially since Thuggory and Cami already know who Hiccup is. These three tribes are also much closer together geographically than they are to Berk, so it is relatively easier to 'hide' the dragons from Berk. Berk is too busy fighting them off, and has no time to go snoop around their ally islands which are a long boat-ride away.

2) Which leads to Geography: Freezing to Death of the Meatheads and the UglyThug Island are relatively close together, and slightly further south between them is the Bog Burglar's island. Berserker Island is further South, on the same latitude as the Outcast Island, and the Trollguts's island is farther out West. Further down South then are Berk, Dragon Island, and Hopeless. Not all these tribes will be relevant to this story, and this geographical arrangement is completely arbitrary on my part because it is required for the story's timing.

3) A note on Snotlout: The Snot-man is one of my favourite characters, because he's irreverent, arrogant, more than a little stupid and utterly entertaining to watch as he blusters around. Sort of like a boxer puppy, battling against a huge teddybear and thinking he's winning when it falls over.

That said, his arrogance and ego have gone mostly unchecked and untested for five years here, the edges dulled by Hiccup's intellect, and the slight boyish hero-worship he developed for his cousin in the film, missing from his life in this continuity. He has therefore developed a head as big as the Red Death's arse, and it is going to need knocking down a few pegs before he can be safely adorable at a close distance again.

A public thank you to all those reviewers who have left a note as 'guests'. I cannot thank you personally, as you are not logged in, but your reviews are not any less appreciated.

The next chapter will be out on Friday 14th Febraury `14.