Work begins among the Hooligans to make sure the Red Death receives the proper reception – all on Cattongue's orders.

Berkian Eddur - 1

Becoming Lífþrasir

Day 2

"Aaah!"

It was normal to hear war-cries and the ringing of metal coming from the dragon arena, so no passers-by would have given it a second glance. The only thing that was different today, in fact, was that the participants of the all-out brawl were not all from the same village.

They were waiting for Cattongue, and Cami had gotten bored. The men were off to the side, the fat blond kid booking bets about axe-throwing accuracy. Pussies. Cami had tackled the girl twin to the ground, and the rest was history. Heather and other Berk girl had tried to stop them, but it had ended up being a four-way fight, all-out match.

"Hate to admit it, but you're good," she told the shorter blonde woman with no helmet. The girl twin – 'nut something – saw an opening and charged, taking Cami down with a waist tackle and then getting flipped on her stomach. Throwing her off was not as easy as she thought, and by the time she had the other blonde in a headlock, Heather was going at the other – Astrid? Some stupid name like that.

"Your friend is toast," Nut-girl said in a croaky gloat, still in the headlock. Cami twisted the other girl's spine backwards. "Ow, ow, ow… yeah, do that again!"

Cami blinked. Then smirked. "Ha! I knew there was a reason why our villages were allies!"

"Same here. You're almost as good as my brother at this. But don't tell him that."

"Almost?" Cami narrowed her eyes, but battle cries interrupted her choke-a-tete with her new buddy as Heather and Astrid went at each other, axes raised, and crossed blades. Their axe-heads got stuck, and neither one of them would budge, turning the mock fight into a very real tug of war.

"There is NO way you're winning this, Mrs Married Woman," Astrid taunted, squaring her feet and pulling. Heather almost came off the ground, but then she braced and tugged herself. "I've been training with an axe since I was five, and this axe was made by the best smith on Berk!"

"Oh yeah?" Cami started cheering Heather on. Nut-girl underneath her started cheering Astrid. Cami was suddenly tackled from behind and ended up in a tangle of limbs between the two twins; but in the end she was the one holding both of their heads down. "Well, this is my wedding axe, Ms single girl, and it was made by the best smith in the archipelago! Let's see how your handle holds!"

"That's my line!"

Both girls twisted at the same time, and there was a teeth-clenching screeching noise as they came apart, panting, flushed and grinning; then both girls looked at their axes and yelped in dismay. Each axe had hewn a long curl of wood out of the other's handle, and a metal core was exposed underneath.

"Heather!" Thuggory said, looking annoyed as he came up, "Wife, that axe is three days old!" He unholstered his own and held it up like a baby. "They're not a matching set anymore! The marriage is ruined!" Cami and both the twins she was sitting on burst out laughing. The man could be such a sentimental idiot sometimes.

"Odin, he's stupid," the boy twin said, slightly slurred as his mouth was mooshed under her shoe. "What's the point of a weapon if it doesn't have a good dent or scar here and there."

"I totally concur," Cami snickered. He looked at her in confusion.

"It means she agrees!" Nut-girl grunted, head pulled back as Cami held her hair like reigns. "Gods you boys are all stupid." Cami beamed. "Glad I married the intelligent one." Darn, she was already saddled with a man. Ung, they could be so annoying at times, these men; she'd even gotten a yelling at by Gobber earlier for frightening his skivvies off with her changewing when she'd been visiting the forge earlier. Poor Berk woman had so much potential. Well...

"Hey, ever thought of moving to Bog?"

"Hello, everyone. Sorry I'm late, but I had to go… er…"

Cattongue had finally arrived, and he was looking at them all from atop Toothless, his body language hesitant. The stupid boy had decided to refuse to remove his helmet, giving some bogus excuse that he was hideously scarred and was uncomfortable without it (which had started Snot-man's quips about ugliness, which had instantly made him Cami's favourite verbal-barb-target). It was highly inconvenient, because Cami adored making Hiccup – pardon – Cattongue uncomfortable, and now she couldn't enjoy watching his face twist into the oddest shapes when she flirted and nagged at him.

Any other conversation was cut off when a gronkle with no tack or saddle buzzed into the ring, roosting next to Toothless. The two dragons greeted each other with a head-nudge, and all the Hooligans stiffened. Cattongue got off the night fury, and he was suddenly all business. Oh yes! Real show was about to start.

"Ok," he started. "I'd like everyone with a dragon on one side, and everyone without on the other." Cami got off the twins and headed to the right, where Heather and Thuggory were standing beside Fanghorn and Clover. Dogsbreath nudged the fat man when he looked like he was too lost taking notes around Farthog, and Cami snickered as the twins rolled their way there in a wrestling match. Cattongue probably looked exasperated under that mask. She liked them.

"What dragons do you have in the holding pens?" Cattongue asked the blond man who was still taking notes and rubbing his stubbly beard, evidently deciding to ignore the wrestling twins. The man jumped at being addressed, but rattled off a nightmare, a zippleback and a nadder who apparently had become efficient in the art of escaping, and sometimes taking others with her.

"It's the tenth time we've caught this one in the last five years," he said. "It almost seems to do it on purpose. If you ask me, it turned the whole escaping thing into a game."

"Or maybe it's escaping from something else, on its island."

"What..? Oh…"

"We'll start with the nadder then. Escape artist or not, it's the least destructive of the ones you have." He walked by Snot-face, who had resolutely refused to go with the other Hooligans and stood in the middle, defiantly folding his arms and pointing his jaw at Hicc- Cattongue. Idiot; he hadn't realised yet that Cattongue had made ignoring stupid people a Thawfest sport. "Heather, can you line up with your dragon, please? Toothless, come here." It always amazed Cami how the most terrifying of the dragons obeyed Hiccup like a faithful hound. Cattongue. Oh, whatever!

Hiccup walked up to the pen he was told contained the nadder and released it, getting out of the way of a few spikes before Toothless growled menacingly at it, giving Hiccup an opening to begin working his magic. He removed the dagger he always carried on his wrist, giving it to Toothless who carried it to a corner and returned beside his rider. Next he called Heather, who brought Clover, and the two nadders began squawking at each other, opening and closing their wings, raising and lowering their heads as if they were doing an elaborate greeting dance. Oh wait, they were; Hiccup told them that last time.

Finally, when the two dragons had stopped bowing and wing-waving, Hiccup approached Clover, offering a hand and letting him nuzzle it. After a few moments, he approached the blue nadder, more slowly, and let it take its time before it hesitantly approached him, and even more hesitantly placed its nose next to Hiccup's palm. The moment it finally allowed itself to touch him, he began to scratch it tenderly.

"Frigga, you're a beautiful one," he said, and the thing preened and gargled happily. Turning to look at the rest of them (and she winked at him, just to make him uncomfortable), he gestured to Astrid and Toothless, one coming next to him much faster than the other. "Ok, girl," he continued, addressing the nadder, "I want you to meet some people. This is Toothless. He is my dragon companion, and he allows me to fly with him."

Toothless gave a grunt, and allowed himself to get sniffed by the curious blue dragon, who gargled at him too.

"Hofferson, grab a fish and move five feet behind her, please. Now, girl, there's someone else I'd like you to meet. Toothless and I enjoy flying together, and Clover over there is taken care of by Heather. Look at how well groomed he is, and how shiny his scales are. Would you like a rider of your own?" The dragon seemed to consider it, twisting its head to look at Hiccup first with one eye and then the other. Cami was beginning to understand why her friend the toothpick had asked her to leave the changewing in the forest; Sting would have been roaringly bored by now, and started creating mischief. Like the wrestling twins…

"Hofferson," Hiccup said again, catching Cami's attention. Aah, smart boy. Trying to keep a distance with her, was he? Pity it was useless, Cami knew; the sentimental idiot. "Approach her from the back." Astrid protested. Hiccup insisted; they went round in circles for a few moments until Hiccup asked her to simply move two steps forward. In the end, she managed to smooth the nadder's spines down and feed it.

It was all soooo veeery exciiiiiiting! Like watching grass grow.

"Heather, can you take Hofferson to the glade with Clover and her new friend, please? Cami," oh yes! Something to do! "Take the twins there too. I want to get them familiar with a dragon before I introduce them to their own." Score! This was going to be fun. "Give them all some long-grass, ok? And make sure Clover stops our pretty blue one here from making a break for it."

The dragon thrilled. Hiccup was an idiot; that dragon wasn't going anywhere, it was half in love with him already, like nearly all the women on Freezing and half the ones on Bog – though they'd never admit it, crusty warriors that they were. And oh-ho! So was a certain blonde!

Well ok, she was looking at him funny, like she couldn't decide whether he was mad, or a genius, or a mad genius; or whether he'd grown another head. But she was looking. The stupid Snot-man was still standing in the middle of the arena defiantly, occasionally passing a bad joke everyone was too busy to take notice of. He seemed about to latch onto blonde axe-woman, but she walked away from him briskly and Hiccup continued.

"Thug, you're staying. You too, please." The blond boy – Fishgills? Fishlungs? - had been measuring the wingspan of Hiccup's gronkle and comparing it to Farthog, so he nodded absently. "I'll really need you guys here. Jorgensen volunteered to get the nightmare."

Cami laughed all the way to the glade, and the twins, never mind them being from the same village, were making Fried-Snot jokes and screams-like-a-sissy jokes all through the hike there. Cami was seriously considering adopting these two.

=0=

There was something disturbing, and yet altogether too familiar, about sharing space in the smithy again. Gobber had ditched his shirt a while ago because the inside was a furnace, never mind the storm raging outside, and he couldn't understand how that boy hadn't ditched his mask yet as he banged at his portion of the metal dome they were constructing.

Trying to be surreptitious, Gobber angled himself so he could see the young man he was working with through the reflection on some shields. He'd shed the majority of his armour – it made Gobber wonder whether he was trusting, or crafty, because he'd kept just enough on to be protected – and even opened his tunic at the front half-way. It was like no tunic Gobber had ever seen – it had buckles all the way down its front, was sleeveless, and short around his waist.

The beast was in there with them, too. It was snoozing at the boy's feet, like a giant hound from Loki's own kennel. And yet it hadn't once been aggressive towards the old blacksmith – it'd growled at him once before being sharply called back by the boy. Something about him, and the air he had when he was around the beasts, simply left Gobber rubbing his stubbly chin.

He was a slip of a man, hardly one at all, even though he was taller than the one-legged, one-handed blacksmith. He didn't take to crowds well at all, if what he'd seen in the Hall was any indication, and only slapped back if you pinched too hard. But there was something about him, something that had shivers running up and down Gobber's spine. Possibly, it was the fact that he seemed to be able to tame and command any one of these scaly mongrels, and they were all running after his heels like pups within a few hours of being scratched and murmured a few words; he controlled the beasts almost like Odin had given him right over them. He could raise an army of them and have the whole archipelago to himself within months if he so wished, and instead, he went around helping people.

Pounding away now, one wouldn't think twice about the lad, if you didn't look at the odd helmet on his head – which was one Hel of a work of craftsmanship, he would admit – and the shadowy dragon at his feet. He seemed like an ordinary smith, down on the anvil with all his strength and disregarding the rest of the world.

But no, there were too many contradictions. The helmet and the dragon already couldn't be ignored; then there was the armour, which was so complicated it looked like something out of an old saga. The clothes were off too – some were honest to Thor Viking furs, the rest seemed a patchwork of weirdness.

Gobber shook his head – it was just useless to try to decipher this lad by looking at him. He looked like Loki, in disguise. Odin got his mighty steed from that – but an untold amount of mischief also got had, so this could go either way.

They were silent for a while more as Gobber got re-absorbed in his task of making half the metal dome. It was made of a shining, lightweight metal that the Meathead heir swore by up and down was the best thing since roasted yak meat. Why they were making this strange semi-circular shaped thing out of it (and where the lad had procured it) Gobber didn't know. Truly, though, he was enjoying the work, something new to do and learn in the profession he'd known since he was a wee lad, and that he'd taught to another wee lad –

No, that way lay a sleepless night and an unhealthy amount of mead.

His hammar hand gave a last ringing hit on the cooling metal before he saw that he needed to bend the rim a little. Perhaps it was his recent thoughts, perhaps he had just forgotten himself with someone else in the smithy. As it was, he held out his arm and asked for the pincers – which were promptly given to him from the rack of interchangeable hands.

Gobber blinked at them resting on his flesh hand, then up at the lad. He'd not stopped hammering at all, the much smaller mallet doing the work strongly yet precisely on his half of the dome. Gobber admitted that it was neater, finer work than his own, and for a moment envied his master for having made such a smart smith, before a shiver of cold when up his spine again.

It was an odd feeling, as he'd felt on the boat on the way here while the boy spoke to Stoick and the lass, but he still couldn't put his finger on it. Gobber looked for a moment at the strong shoulders and slim but powerful muscles, tapered with nimble but calloused fingers directing the small mallet just so, before he shook his head and got back to work. He couldn't let himself be shown up by this foreign smith after all. He'd survived losing a hand and a foot; he really wasn't sure he'd survive losing his job.

=0=

It took Astrid all day to get to the forge. Her new 'friend', a rather overly-enthusiastic nadder who had obsessively tried to groom her hair all afternoon, had kept her in the woods through the waning hours of light; a good sign, according to Heather. A bother and unwelcome adrenaline jump every few seconds, according to her.

In fact, the beast was still following her, despite the weather. It was winding through the wide, thankfully near-empty streets of Berk behind her, attempting to be stealthy about it. The odd upturned basket and support beam whipped by the colourful tail was giving it away.

She stopped as she approached the forge, and felt the nadder's light footsteps stop behind her. It was strangely comforting – almost like the dragon had her back – while at the same time set the fine hairs on her neck standing stiff as boards. Astrid almost felt like she had trained a shark to help guard her while she swam.

She took a moment to steel herself, because the nadder was not the only reason she was on edge. There was something odd about that man, something that simply did not add up, and Astrid was not about to leave a stone unturned. She was also not comfortable with him being in the smithy while she spoke to Gobber about what she'd come for.

She rolled her shoulders and walked around the forge's open wall. The two men were still there; Gobber was clanging away at what looked like half a massive bath, while Cattongue worked on a number of small, circular objects, his portion of whatever Gobber was doing lying upright against the wall. As soon as she walked in, the dragon's head rose, eyes trained on her. Then it looked behind her, gave a huff and put its big black head back down.

"You have a new shadow. A rather colourful one," Gobber jibed while nodding his head behind her, and with more good humour than Astrid had seen in a while. The nadder had 'hidden' behind a nearby house, and was occasionally peeking at her before ducking its still-visible head behind the chimney. A number of startled Vikings were looking at the normally aggressive creature behaving like a child in utter confusion.

"I hadn't noticed," she answered in the same light tone. Then she reluctantly brought the axe out with a side glance to the other smith banging at his own, seemingly imported anvil. "Look, Gobber, I know you're busy, but I really need you to look at this for me."

"Ah, lass," he said disapprovingly, and she ducked her head. A gurgle from the dragon behind her alerted her that the creature had decided to disapprove of Gobber's disapproval. "Takin' a liking to you, it has! Well then..." He hefted the weapon, twirling it in his grip and shining the blade. "Lass, you know I can't fix this."

A sinking feeling dragged everything to the bottom of her belly.

"Gobber, you're the best smith on Berk, you taught him. Please take another look." Gobber gave her a pitying glance, and she felt herself flush when she felt Cattongue's eyes on her as well. For some incongruous reason, when Gobber gave her the axe back with a shake of the head, Astrid held it to herself and tried to cover most of it from his prying eyes.

"I can't work that handle, lass, too much finagling for my old fingers. Never did have fingers as nimble as that boy's own, anyway. Only thing I can do for you is fix that wood with some metal, or try to stick it back with tree sap, but id'a be unbalanced, and you know that. I warned you last time when you chipped the blade that there was only so much I could do on it."

She nodded, feeling despondent. She'd managed to ruin Hiccup's axe, and since he wasn't around to fix it, she would have to put the damaged, though still beautiful, weapon on the wall for good.

"He did warn to check the third axel. It's always the protective ring that comes off."

A loud clang. The black dragon's head shot out of its doze, and he snorted in alarm, Astrid and Gobber turned towards the guest smith, weapons ready, to find him staring wide-eyed at Astrid herself, hammer having missed his target completely to clang loudly against the anvil.

"What is it?" she hissed, lowering her weapon when she saw the dragon eying it. She didn't want it charred, too. The nadder came up behind her cautiously, and sniffed her as she put the weapon away. Thinking it best not to agitate a ten-foot toothed creature in the middle of the village, she cautiously began scratching its chin.

Cattongue's eyes moved from her to the now-blissful nadder, a sight she still found hard to believe, but that did not distract her enough from the startled look he'd given her. She couldn't understand the shock there had been there for a moment, and wished, not for the first time, that he'd remove the damn helmet so she could see what the rest of his face gave away, scars or no scars.

"Nothing, sorry. Just missed."

Astrid didn't buy that for one second. She opened her mouth to retort, but the nadder nuzzled her more strongly, as if sensing her unease. Was it possible? She just scratched the creature under the chin harder, and it gave a soothing rumble. Then the rain began again, and the nadder extended a wing over her, keeping her dry.

Astrid looked up at it open-mouthed. The dragon merely nuzzled her, as if waiting for approval. Gobber was wearing her same gobsmacked expression, she was sure. Cattongue, on the other hand, had a crinkle in his eyes that told her he was smiling, and the black night fury beside him was giving an equivalently silly look, a stupid grin with his tongue hanging out between his gums-

Gums?

"No teeth?" she said before she could stop herself, and her nadder grumbled slightly at not having all the attention. Astrid simply rubbed her behind the spike ridge, as she seemed to enjoy that. Cattongue seemed to be enjoying the situation, too.

"I told you it was a tradition. Show her, Toothless." And the night fury opened its mouth wide before its teeth came out sharply, and then snapped in again. Astrid exchanged a blinking glance with Gobber and resisted the urge to ask it to do it again. Cattongue seemed to read her mind; he gave his dragon a nudge, which caused the night fury to show off its teeth again, but not before rolling its eyes and whacking its rider with its tail. "Ow! Hey, watch the tail fin, stupid reptile!' The dragon snorted at him. The nadder beside her gurgled out what was almost a laugh.

Astrid found herself feeling as if she was in an unfamiliar home - everything around her was Berk, and yet at the same time, not. The dragons she had fought and trained against all her life had personalities similar to men and women; a deadly nadder was currently re-aligning her fur and spiked skirt gently with her teeth before rubbing her nose against Astrid's shoulder. A night fury, the deadliest of dragons, was playing a game of tug-the-rag with Cattongue, who was laughing and gamely trying not to fly off his feet. She looked at Gobber again and she was sure she saw, apart from the slack-jaw, a shadow of pain in his eyes. She made up her mind to pass by later so that she could make sure he was doing well; it must not be easy on him, to have someone else in the smithy with him again.

Her eyes moved sharply to the hook - the small leather apron was still hanging there, thankfully. It was a good thing; hero or not, debt or not, Cattongue's head would have rolled if he'd touched it.

With a sigh, she stepped out into the rain - or she would have, if her dragon hadn't kept a wing over her. Astrid couldn't help smiling and petting the nadder once again. The feeling was dizzying; they were still in Berk - the houses and desolate weather said so - but a nadder was keeping her warm and dry, a night fury was playing and smirking, and the smithy was a bright place to go again. It was like she had woken up in the morning and found everything in her room moved just by two fingers' width to the right.

"Hoy, my brother!" Thuggory said as he passed her and he stepped into the smithy, shaking water drops and making the night fury grumble. Astrid paused; Thuggory had just addressed Cattongue as his brother? That was some familiarity! She moved back towards the smithy, the nadder somehow managing to stay quiet and keep her dry. "I've brought you the missus' axe. She was mighty upset. That Astrid did a number on it!" Pride welled; at least, her beautiful axe had taken a victim - one of almost equal craftsmanship to her own, she had noticed. In fact, that handle had been almost identical to hers.

A shiver of doubt ran up her stomach.

"Hm … Thug, you know I have to make all the defence weapons. And axes aren't my speciality. And that I … didn't make you that axe. I worked with him, yes, but I'm not him."

"Wha… oh, yeah. Well, I … you're a good smith, too. And you did work with him… So …"

A ball had formed in Astrid's throat as the doubt congealed; She had been right, Heather's axe had not just seemed familiar. The craftmanship had been too similar to her own to be ignored, too beautiful, light and balanced to be anyone else's work. Heather's axe was Hiccup's creation. It took all of her stubbornness not to leap into the smithy.

"I'll give it a look. Leave it here, ok? I have this mail to finish for Stoick."

"Fine!" Thuggory huffed, but he had a smile on his face as he exited. Astrid flattened herself against the wall, and her dragon somehow hopped onto the roof nearly noiselessly in the nick of time - a distant part of her mind noted that she STILL kept her wing extended over Astrid to keep her dry. There was something to be said about the work ethic of this dragon that made Astrid decide what she did next.

There was no use interrogating Cattongue - she could already hear Gobber nailing him with a few questions, and there was no need to add another voice to that chorus. Thuggory, however, was the son of an allied clan chief, and if he knew where Hiccup was, she could use his status against him. So tucking her hair into her clothes and raising her fur hood, Astrid called the nadder down and after asking permission, was allowed on top.

"Ok girl, here goes," she told the excited reptile. "Follow that man for me, the one who just came out? Let's see if we can herd him towards the woods, shall we?"

Astrid didn't have time to feel stupid for speaking to a dragon before the nadder took off, and the drenching she had been avoiding till now begun to seep through her clothing. The nadder swerved, forcing Astrid to hold on to the crest spikes and hook her knees around the dragon's wing joints. After a few moments, however, the exhilaration took over - she was flying, and this time, it was different from holding onto Cattongue and worrying about so many things. This time, she was flying, and she was also hunting.

The dragon gargled, Astrid's eyes sharpened through the storm and spotted Thuggory's bowed head as he tried to run from shelter to shelter before he reached her and Stoick's house, where all the heirs were staying.

"Let's give him a lift, shall we?" Astrid could swear her dragon laughed. Cattongue was right about one thing; she could feel that this was the start of a beautiful friendship. And in fact, the dragon dove without question, grabbed the Meathead heir and carried him yelling and yelping into the air. Astrid couldn't help laughing as the mighty Thuggory screamed like a girl as they flew through the storm, swearing and yelling up at her once he noticed it was her doing.

"Put me down!" he bellowed as they began grazing tree-tops, and his legs paddled frantically to avoid a wallop to the delicates.

"As you wish!" she called back, and somehow her dragon understood before Astrid could even puzzle out how to tell her what to do. Thuggory found himself falling, grunting as he bounced through the branches until he found a sturdy one. That is, until he slipped on the wet pine and fell flat on his back in the muddy undergrowth.

Again, she could swear her nadder laughed. Astrid was so giving her dragon a rub-down with polish.

Smirking maniacally, Astrid slid off the dragon's back, unholstered her still damaged axe and stepped on Thuggory's chest.

"What is WRONG with you! Why in Hel's teeth would you do that!" He quieted down when she held the blade of her axe close enough to cut him.

"I'll tell you right away," she hissed into the quiet of the undergrowth and the pattering rain. "Tell me where Hiccup is and I won't have to feed you to my nadder!"

He swallowed visibly as he looked at her, and her dragon approached from the side, eyeing him with interest. Astrid had to be careful with what she said; she didn't really want her nadder to eat her only source of information in years. He opened his mouth.

"And don't you dare lie to me," she warned. "I saw your axe and Heather's - they're exactly like this one, and there is only one person who can make an axe like this! My betrothed; so start talking!"

His mouth hung open like a fish. "Your what?"

"Betrothed, promised; what Heather was before you married her - are you dull in the head?"

"You're engaged to Hiccup!"

"So I was right! You do know something of him!" she said triumphantly. "Talk, or I'll shave you so close your head will fall off!"

=0=

This must be the most surreal experience of my life, Thuggory found himself thinking as he looked up at the blonde Hooligan girl.

Hiccup was going to die when he told him. He was engaged and he didn't know it! Ha! Or, wait, did he?

And hadn't there been a girl he was mad about? The one that he'd made the axe for and got all bluesy about because she was married back home and - hang on, an axe? Like the one that was about to kill him right now!

Oh haha! This was priceless - or it was a joke, a ploy to get information out of him about Hiccup's whereabouts. After all, his friend had warned him that they may have Outcast the fellow heir. And did he REALLY not know? Thuggory could almost hear himself saying - the axe was almost a bride price. Still, Hiccup was engaged...

A grin spread on his face before he could stop it. The Astrid's glare clearly threatened to make his grin as wide as his head would go if he didn't take it seriously.

"So I take it my man Hiccup doesn't know he's got you waiting for him back home, aye?" he said cheekily, eyeing her up and down. "I don't see him staying away if he did." His gambit paid off. The girl moved off him like he burned her and stepped away. She was still looking at him with death in her eyes, though, and the nadder that had taken a fancy to her was still giving him a beady look, so he hastily got to his feet. "Why'd you get me out here, then?"

"I've already told you. I want to know where my betrothed is," she said, looking at him steadily. There was no doubt that if he tried to leg it, Thuggory would end up somewhere or somehow unpleasant, so he sighed and just sat back down in the mud, the rain pattering around them mutely among the pine trees.

"Why do you want to know?"

"Well, firstly, as I've just said, he's my betrothed, and I have a right to know. And secondly, he's the heir to our tribe! You should have at least mentioned something! He's been missing for years!"

"Missing, huh? I thought he was on a journey," Thuggory replied, enjoying the way she went white. However, something else passed over her face before she looked down.

"He is," she said, her tone still hard, but having lost some of its edge. "We've just … lost contact with him. The tribe needs to know he's ok. And I said some things to him before he left. Some things I'd like to apologise for."

Thuggory didn't reply; just let her stew in her own soup.

"How long … how long has it been, since you last saw him?" she asked, hesitantly. Thuggory looked at her some more. She had pushed her hood down and her fringe was wet, clinging to her forehead and off her eyes, for once. There was an honest, earnest look on her face that she couldn't fake if she wanted to - even his wily wife couldn't. In fact, if she had known what she looked like, she would probably have schooled her features. So he signed, and answered truthfully.

"They were his wedding gifts," he said as he waved to his own axe. The relief and gladness on her face took him by surprise.

"So, recently? He's ok? Alive and well?" she asked, more openly eager this time. Something didn't add up here; Thuggory didn't peg Hiccup as a liar, and yet this girl had always been a rather painful subject for him. He was, in fact, under the impression that she had hated him, or disregarded him completely, from the little Hiccup had said the one time they'd gotten him drunk. Yet here she was, acting like, well, a real betrothed. He decided to play a potentially cruel but necessary game.

"Depends what you mean by 'well'."

"What?"

"He was fine, physically, but he's got no place to go, really. Wouldn't really say anything about home, and my dad came home from the Thing every time saying Hiccup was travelling, and on a real man's voyage to prove himself, but every time I saw him, he didn't seem like he was happy to me."

There; guilt, sadness and worry on her face. Now for the parting shot.

"First time he came, he said he was 'Hiccup the Unwanted'."

Her eyes had gone wide, and she was looking at him in utter horror. Then she rolled her shoulders in what he interpreted to be a decision made.

"Where is he? Do you know?" When he didn't say anything and didn't budge, she added, "Please!"

"Tell me this first," he asked, ignoring the chittering dragon behind the woman who had taken umbrage with him upsetting the human girl. "Were you the reason why he told me that?"

Astrid looked down, her lips still pressed and bitten by anxious teeth before she nodded.

"I need to apologise. To do it a thousand times if I have to. I said what I did in a moment of anger and he just …"

"Hmm," Thuggory replied. What had really happened between these two? After all, they were engaged. Had that happened before or after he had left? Had he left to free her from something she hadn't wanted at the time but had since regretted losing?

Ah, this was all so romantic. He had to tell Heather about it later so she could scoff at him, the dear manipulative woman.

"Do you know, or not?" she finally asked impatiently. Ah, he'd got lost in a romantic daydream of dramatic heroics and rescues, and he'd forgotten to answer her.

"No," he lied, feeling surprisingly guilty about it when her face fell. "He comes and goes, doesn't leave us anything except his good smithing."

"Oh … Still a good smith, huh?" she said sadly, looking at her own axe and then holstering it with a sigh. She turned away and walked towards her dragon, which began to nuzzle her before it lowered itself to let her on. And whoa was she a fast learner, now that he realised it.

"The best!" he confirmed. "But tell me something. Were you engaged before he left?"

"No. That was … that was after."

"He doesn't know?" Oh, oh this was priceless. Gold!

"Since when does a groom have a say in who he marries?" she replied with a wry smile. He gave a hearty laugh, still sitting on the wet grass. As the dragon rose again, with the blonde on her back, she hesitated for a moment. "If you … when you see him again. Would you tell him something?"

"What?"

"Tell him that Astrid says sorry. And please, please come back."

Then she took off. Thuggory just looked after her slack-jawed. Until a smirk began to spread on his face, that is, one that Heather and Cami were about to share real soon. Oh boy, he wanted to see Hiccup's face so bad when he told him this.

=0=

There was a small, abandoned hut at Troll Peak that had once belonged to a sheep farmer who had since moved on to the afterlife, and left no one in possession of it. The dilapidated building was seeing new life tonight in the form of large, burly men, the leaders and generals of the village, crammed into its tiny space. The silence of the dead of the night kept their voices low, but the subject was not any less heated for all that.

"Are we in agreement, then?" Stoick asked. His war council said aye. He fiercely looked at each one of them, stopping with Gobber, Spitelout and Hacknee the longest. "We do have a debt to repay, and we will repay it as best we can, but if this damn foreigner starts showing signs of wanting anything else, like sticking his hands on all of Berk, then we truss him up and ship him off to Ras's mercy. And if he resists, or that devil of his thinks it can get one-up on us, then Thor have mercy on their hides."

Nods and Ayes all around. There was a fiercely determined expression on each of the faces that were surrounding him. Stoick felt more bolstered than he had since they'd left for that damned journey. Hel must have known they'd been trying to penetrate her realm, and was punishing them for it.

"What changed your mind?" Spitelout asked when all the other men left the hut for their homes, and only he, Gobber and Stoick were left. "You were not in favour of the idea when we first spoke of it, since he's a guest and we're in his debt." Stoick gave him a grin through his beard.

"Hiccup's the one who smithed Thuggory and Heather's wedding axes," he replied. "Was there on Freezing not three weeks before we arrived for the wedding. Maybe if he's that close, he's ready to come home, and I have a heritage to pass on to him when he does."

Spitelout wasn't kind enough to ignore the inconsistencies in Stoick's story, the chief should have known better than to share his good mood.

"Why didn't he wait on Freezing, then? We'd have feasted the reunion at someone else's expense!" Spitelout gave a rather sly look. "If you ask me, he's grown used to the freedom, the women and the ale. I don't see no young man turn all that down to come back to a life of drudgery and toil, and getting tied down to one girl, no matter who she is!"

Stoick rolled his shoulders as Spitelout left, laughing, and Gobber pat him on the back.

"You know he's right, Stoick," the smith said, and Stoick gave him a wounded look. "I don't think Hiccup's the sort to be too taken with whoring, but you know as well as I do that he's not coming back. Take heart that he's alive and well, at least. That's more than we knew before."

"Right," Stoick replied, swallowing hard. He and Gobber left the hut, stepping into the early autumn rain and heading towards their own homes.

=0=

The secret political manoeuvres are part and parcel of this story. Enjoy their hints and red herrings. What Stoick and his generals are doing here is to plan a pre-emptive strike should 'Cattongue' decide to over-step his part of the agreement. By, I don't know, trying to take over Berk, for example. Now that Stoick knows Hiccup's alive and close, he wants to make sure he stays chief of Berk long enough to pass on the mantel to his son. If only he knew…

I love dramatic irony. It is one of my favourite tools to use, so watch out for it!