20 - Fall

Skuf skidded to a stop in front of the hatch to the cargo hold at the stern of the ship, where Skullcrusher and Toothless were peering in, growling angrily. He pushed Toothless aside - well, more like gestured with all his might - but Toothless compiled and sidled over.

It was very dark inside and someone below deck could be hiding out of sight, so Skuf asked Toothless to use his sensor lobes for some insight on this. Through mechanisms beyond his comprehension, sensations beyond his senses flared into focus, depicting the direction and distance of every sentient creature nearby, their emotional state, and a thousand other things only a dragon so attuned as a Night Fury could detect. Nobody was in what Skuf figured must be the cargo hold directly below. Skuf and Dagger were towards the middle of the ship, below deck, far too close to each other for any good news.

Confident in his safety for the moment, Skuf dove into the opening, grabbing the lip on the deck to control his descent. Upon landing, he drew his sword and scanned the surroundings as his eyes adjusted to the darkened area. The only light to see by was what filtered in from the hatch above. Various bits of weaponry and sail rigging were strewn about the perimeter. There were small doors toward the port, starboard, and stern of the ship. Must be storage closets. A larger door led towards the bow. The handle turned, but the door would not budge. Something must be blocking it from the other side.

THUMP!

Skuf's heart jumped and he whirled around in a blur, sword held out at his side, ready to face whatever intruder just jumped down behind him, only to see that it was Stoick. The chief pushed past to test the door. He took a few steps back and rammed his shoulder into it. The door held rock-solid.

Skuf looked up at the dragons peering in from above. {Toothless, can you shoot a fireball at this door without starting a fire? Too much smoke could kill Hiccup and setting the whole ship ablaze will not help us.}

Toothless confirmed it should be possible. To form the fireball, he swirls a slower-burning viscous gel around a highly volatile core that instantly explodes when the boundary is disrupted. Bigger core, thinner shell, more impact with less fire, if the dragon finagles things right. In theory, it would be simple enough and shouldn't explode inside the dragon's mouth. Toothless was pretty confident.

A moment later, the room darkened as a large, black, scaly head with red highlights plunged in from the ceiling, blocking most of the sunlight. Skuf got Stoick's attention, pointing to the dragon, then the door. He opened the closet door on the port side of the ship and motioned the chief inside. A moment later, the signature high-pitched shrieking of a Night Fury on a fire run could be heard, followed by a loud explosion and splintering wood.

Immediately, Stoick thrust the closet door open, bracing his shield against his shoulder, and charged at what remained of the locked door. He burst through, vision impaired from the smoke and dust, Skuf right on his heels. The only threat of fire was some glowing embers and wisps of flame. Nothing immediately threatening.

Skuf hastily cleared the plume of smoke, but what he saw instantly stopped his feet. Sunlight weakly filtered in through portholes along the sides of the ship in long, dusty streaks, illuminating Hiccup, tied to a chair, with Dagur standing above him holding a blade to his throat. A Terrible Terror in sorry shape whimpered out from where it lay on the floor, chained to Hiccup's ankle.

Stoick stood to the side, also restraining his desire to attack for fear of that blade going right in. There was no doubt it was very sharp - Berserkers pride themselves on the condition of their knives and daggers. Most even use them to trim their beards.

The groaning and splintering sound of wood under extreme duress sounded out behind them as the dragons fought to gain purchase within. Skuf heard the sound of the Night Fury charging up another shot.

While he couldn't even vocalize a squeak, he shouted as loud as he could with his projected thoughts. {No more fire, Toothless! You will kill us with the smoke if you do that. Just use your teeth and claws.}

"It's over, Dagur," Stoick shouted. "Your fleet burns, your assault failed. Your haste to attack us without provocation or even allowing for negotiations has been your downfall. Release Hiccup unharmed and I will show mercy. But if you harm him, by the gods, I will make you suffer so much you will BEG for death before I grant you release."

Dagur smirked as he grabbed a handful of Hiccup's hair. The boy cried out in pain, then broke out in a drunken sort of laughter.

"What, you think I even NEED your boy anymore, old man? I already got EVERYTHING I WANT out of him! The drugs we developed to control the dragons failed miserably, but they worked magnificently on your son. I already sent out messenger pigeons. EVERYONE already knew you control dragons and they all want some for themselves. Now they know... well, let's just say little fish-bone, here, was very talkative. You can sink this fleet, you can kill me, but you will not defeat ALL the tribes united against you!"

Stoick took a step forward, but Dagur pressed the tip of his blade against Hiccup's neck. A little trickle of bright blood dribbled down to join a couple other slender rivulets.

Even if he could speak, Skuf wouldn't know what to say. Things were looking grim. There was no room to doubt that this deranged monster was half a thought away from killing Hiccup just to spite Stoick. To get the boy out of here alive would be a delicate walk along the edge of a knife.

However, Stoick displayed a wit that did not fit his image. Skuf could feel his emotional hum thrumming with focus and determination. It told the tale of a man who would not succumb to panic no matter how dire the circumstances. He not only put on a face that indicated he was in control of the situation, but he actually believed it, too.

"You're wrong about one thing, Dagur. I don't control the dragons."

He crossed his arms and spoke through a wide grin. "Skuf does."

Skuf blinked and shot a confused look at the chief for a moment, but then grinned as things slid into place in his mind. He could practically see the sawdust pouring out of Stoick's ears as he came up with a plan of action. Hiccup could not be rescued by brute force. One wrong move and he would be choking on his own blood. The only way he could survive this is if Dagur willingly released him. Politely asking wouldn't work. Dagur's a dead man and he knows it. They would need to give him a reason to release Hiccup - pander to his pride and ambition and give him some sense of gain for doing so.

"Skuf?" Dagur asked, uncertainly, as if just noticing that Stoick wasn't alone. "But the Night Fury killed you. It dragged you off... unless..."

"Unless he tamed the beast." Now Stoick wore the smirk. "It's a pity you didn't respect the Dragon Whisperer for the gift he is to the world. He must be blessed by Odin himself! With his unique ability, we rallied over three hundred dragons to rain down fire on your pathetic little fleet. Believe me, Dagur, this is hardly the beginning."

Dagur's breath hitched in his throat. His hand that held the blade against Hiccup's neck started to shake almost imperceptibly. Hiccup yelped as his head was jerked back by the hair. Dagur idly scraped the blade along Hiccup's throat. Skuf could sense the pure, murderous hatred in Stoick, but the chief did an admirable job of maintaining his outward composure.

"Bad idea, Dagur. You see, I'm here for Hiccup. If you kill him, then I have no reason to stay. And I'll PISSED! As will all the dragons. I am not leaving until you release Hiccup, but-"

An explosion rocked the entire ship and orange light flared through all the portholes on the starboard side. A rain of debris could be heard impacting the deck above and splashing all around.

"Well," Stoick said, gesturing to the destruction that claimed another ship, "Let's just say you're at the end of your rope. I am a reasonable man, but, well, let's just say your little fleet here is only the tip of the iceberg if you give me reason to lash out. Release Hiccup and I give you my word there will be no retaliation. We can all put this behind us. I'll even let you go home."

Stoick extended his right hand. He didn't dare take any steps to close the gap. There was a long pause. Nobody said anything or made any move.

CRACK!

The dragons, though, were not so patient. The entire door frame shattered away from the wall as Skullcrusher charged through. Both dragons roared and snarled at the enemy. Toothless was spitting mad, but heeded Skuf's frantic plea to keep a distance and let them use diplomacy. If he were to charge in, then Dagur would have nothing left to lose and that would be the end of Hiccup.

At long last, Dagur burst out laughing. "HA! HA HA HA HA HAAAAAAA! Oh, Stoick, you funny funny man." His expression instantly turned somber and serious. "You're a fool. I know you're not the benevolent sort. Why should I trust you?"

"I give you my word," Stoick said in a mildly hurt tone of voice.

Dagur dragged the tip of his dagger along Hiccup's collarbone and twisted a handful of hair, drawing out a pained yelp. "I'll think about it."

Stoick scowled in a heroic attempt to contain his rage. "Dagur, come now. Either we both lose or we both win. As much of a sacrifice as it is, I would let you go if I get what I want. All I'm asking you to do is meet me halfway and make a similar sacrifice by yielding Hiccup for your life. I never wanted conquest and Hiccup had been begging me to teach other tribes how to befriend dragons. I give you my word your Berserkers will learn how to befriend dragons as we have. You will gain dragon riders through mutual cooperation, but not through conquest."

Dagur paused in thought for a moment.

However," Stoick continued, "If you harm Hiccup any more, it's not just you who will suffer the consequences. I counted the tribal crests and ships. About four thousand warriors, right? That would account for almost every able fighter. Our dragons are hardly put out from this little skirmish. Everything you built up, I will burn down in a single day."

"However, it doesn't have to be that way. Let him go and I swear to the gods that I will send the dragons back to their nests and keep only the seven that have riders on my island. I will allow what remains of your fleet to return unhindered. The casualties are actually very low; it's the ships that suffered the most and we've burned maybe twenty surrounding this one. Most of your fleet is still intact as long as I hold back my dragons."

"YOUR dragons? Pah! Eat shit and DIE, worm! Skuf controls them. You just whisper sweet nothings in his ear to gain his cooperation. What did he promise you, Skuf? Money? Fame? The ugly whores on Berk? There is nothing for you on that backwards, run-down ARMPIT OF THE ARCHIPELAGO?!"

Skuf drew his sword in a flash and held it out at arms-length, tip pointed between Dagur's eyes. This was precisely the cue he was waiting for and it didn't come a moment too soon. Dagur was a breath away from just killing Hiccup in his building rage as he knew he was not leaving this situation alive. Even if he made it back to Berserker island, the fate awaiting the leader of such a massive failed assault would be far more torturous than a quick death by steel or fang here on this ship. It was already clear he was content to become a martyr, but a martyr needs to accomplish something with his death. He needed the promise of gain to his cause, some form of a carrot dangled from a stick in front of him.

The deranged chief was losing confidence fast. He wore a confident smirk on his face, but it wasn't enough to fool someone who could hear the unspoken words. He wouldn't be satisfied with how things could end right now. Killing Hiccup wouldn't be the fulfillment of his desires, only a last-ditch jab at his enemy on his way down. Skuf realized where to find the carrot to dangle in front of Dagur.

"C'mon, Skuf," Dagur pleaded with overplayed bravado. "Don't let this spineless bastard USE you. The Berserker tribe is your HOME. We are your FAMILY. If any tribe has the right to command the dragons, it's US! We have not forgotten what being a Viking is about. We have not PISSED on our ancestors' GRAVES as Berk has. Join me, Skuf. Together, we... shall..."

Skuf cut him off by taking an aggressive step forward. Stoick put a hand on Skuf's arm and said, "You don't have to do this. Hiccup is my son. I'll…"

He stopped, though, as Skuf slowly shook his head. There was no other way. To Dagur, Stoick represented just one more tribe to conquer. On the other hand, Skuf represented that power Dagur so desperately craved. He represented the power that defeated this army.

Besides, Nobody gets to kill this devil but me. This is for you, Svein.

He motioned with his sword to Hiccup, then tapped his knuckles against the flat of the blade. Hopefully, Hiccup's interrogation didn't reveal just how impossible it would be to get the dragons to do any more than they have done already. Skuf was using himself as the carrot and, if Dagur knew that all this was a bluff, that carrot would become worthless and Hiccup would die.

Dagur's emotional hum told it all, though. He recognized the threat in the story Stoick was weaving together and felt like he had been forced into a corner and had only one course of action. Killing Hiccup no longer seemed as appetizing as the carrot standing in front of him. A dual against the dragon whisperer would force his hand if he survived it or deprive Stoick of such a powerful ally if he didn't. Killing Hiccup would rob Dagur of both options and he knew it.

"Fine," he spat out. "A duel. First you, then that spineless bastard who has beguiled you. It's good to see that Stoick hasn't beaten ALL of our honorable traditions out of you, yet!

Skuf held a level stare, but was internally shaking his head. You do not know honor, only greed.

Dagur kicked over the chair Hiccup was tied to, sheathed his dagger, and drew his sword. Toothless snarled at the sight of his rider being so unceremoniously discarded and coiled up to lunge, but Stoick jumped in the way, smacking the dragon's shoulder to get his attention.

"Easy there, Toothless. Let them have their duel. Watch my back while I get Hiccup to a safer spot."

Low, rumbling growls from the dragons filled the room as Skuf and Dagur squared against each other. Skuf shot a wide grin at Stoick, whose quick wit and silken tongue carried the day. It would be a pleasure to be the one to put Dagur down for good and the fact that doing so has saved Hiccup only made it all the better.

Saving Hiccup, after all, was the sole driving motive for everything he had done today. That boy saw what no other Viking ever saw in dragons, even when he was deaf to them.

Skuf took a moment to assess his opponent. Dagur had the advantage of reach with a longer sword and limbs. This could also work against him, too, as they were fighting in an enclosed space where the shorter duelist would have more space to swing his shorter sword before hitting the ceiling.

Dagur also had a very substantial strength advantage. He wasn't as large as Stoick, but Skuf knew it would be suicidal to pit his own strength directly against Dagur's. In addition, Dagur was in his mid-thirties and has had significant combat experience, so Skuf had to remind himself that he probably couldn't get away with any cheap tricks that he used against others in the past. Sparring and dealing with ruffians was simply an inferior combat experience.

Still, Skuf felt confident as he positioned his sword into a defensive stance, hand near his hip, tip pointed directly at Dagur's eyes.

You will regret discounting this soothsayer sword-dancer, fool.

Dagur also assumed a defensive stance and seemed to be calmly waiting for his opponent to make the first move. This worried Skuf as most of his opponents in sparring or in the fight on top of the deck were very aggressive and he was comfortable simply dodging and deflecting, allowing his opponent to give him an opportunity to land a hit.

He took a couple deep breaths and focused his thinking. Settling on a method of approach, Skuf feinted a thrust, but pulled back before Dagur could knock his blade to the side. Dagur anticipated this and did not commit much strength to the swing of his own sword and instantly recovered. The two duelists continued to prod at each other in this manner, taking conservative swings, but avoiding any contact, feeling out each other's abilities and tendencies. Throughout it all, an angry Hooligan chief and two angry, growling dragons made sure the fight didn't stray too close to Hiccup.

"You can save yourself a lot of pain," Dagur said as they slowly circled about each other. "Just tell the dragons to BLAST Stoick to bits and you can be freed from his shackles. Berk is nothing more than a PISS POT. You are no more than a PAWN under Stoick's shadow. You and I, though, can rule the arctic - TOGETHER! We would be EQUALS! You would be rich and famous beyond your wildest dreams! If we control the dragons, WHO can stand against us?"

A feinted thrust was the only response the mute gave. There was no need to play nice now that Hiccup was safe. The sooner Dagur dies, the better.

The way you shout is giving me a headache, you deranged fool. Just quit preaching and die for me, already!

As they took tentative jabs and knocked attacks to the side, Dagur continued his tirade. "If you cast your lot with Stoick, he will only DRAG YOU DOWN, Skuf. He will only make you WEAK. You either rule over others or are ruled by somebody else. It is the natural order for the strong to dominate the weak, and nature has NO MORALS! Join me, Skuf. together, we shall RULE the arctic! No, the entire WORLD!

Skuf slowly shook his head. There will always be war. It is part of human nature, but dragons will not be the catalyst for it. Even if he controlled the dragons, which he couldn't, his personal vendetta against Dagur was too deeply seated to simply let the bastard go.

Your demise was set in motion when you killed a good man for selfish gain. Oswald was always a greater chief than you could ever hope to be.

Sometimes, Skuf really wished he wasn't mute.

Finally, Skuf committed to an actual attack. He thrust his sword forward and twisted out of the riposte. He landed a fist in Dagur's side and leaped away to dodge a desperate kick. His lips curled as he watched Dagur regain his footing. It was a rookie mistake to put himself in such a position in the first place. Taking your feet off the ground is never worth the risk.

Don't disappoint me with an easy kill, you greedy backstabber.

Skuf feinted forward. Dagur drew back. Their blades did not connect, but Dagur used his momentum to press into Skuf's space. He slashed in a downward arc that Skuf met with his blade, allowing it to slide past the tip as he quickly shifted to the side.

The two duelists continued to strike out at each other with relatively safe moves. Nothing was ever accomplished. Skuf was always forced to twist to the side and avoid a contest of strength. Dagur was too fast to allow himself to take any hits. On top of it all, Dagur snuck in a punch below the ribs that twinged with every movement. Skuf simply focused on gaining the upper hand in stamina. Since Dagur wasn't falling for the usual tricks, the only way to win was to outlast him.

Both combatants became quite frustrated with each other. They were breathing hard and dripping with sweat in the cold air. Every swing was dodged or deflected. Every grab was quickly released to avert the enemy's blade. Nobody made any progress and both duelists were shaking from the exertion. Skuf could feel his heart thudding in his temples. His wrists cried out for reprieve from the abuse they've taken. He idly spat out some sweat that dripped onto his lips in irritation.

The time for one-sided banter with a mute was passed. This had to end now.

I will piss on your grave!

Skuf pressed into a swing and pulled back just in time to parry Dagur's own thrust. They continued to whirl around each other, prodding for any sort of weak spot to exploit. Skuf's arms were shaking and Dagur had that annoying smirk on his face. The bastard was also exhausted, but had no fear in pressing the offensive.

Dagur lunged forward in a downward sweep. It was a feint and Skuf could tell. He brought his sword up, but jumped out of the way. Continuing the motion, Skuf swung his own sword at the opening left by Dagur, who was forced to twist to the side and hastily deflect the blow. He stumbled off balance just enough for Skuf to spin his sword around and drive it into the wrist of his opponent's sword arm. Even through the leather gauntlet, Skuf committed all his strength and Dagur's sword fell out of his grasp.

Be glad for a death swifter than you deserve, monster!

Before the sword could even clatter on the floor, Skuf lunged forward, thrusting into Dagur's belly. He tucked his head down low and weathered the blows from Dagur's forehead into the top of his skull. His face flushed and his breathing became ragged and harsh as he twisted his sword and wiggled it up and down, increasing the damage done by the blade.

It is done. I have avenged you, Oswald.

Victory was achieved. Dagur was gushing, his insides torn to shreds. However, it wasn't until Skuf saw the smirk on Dagur's face that he looked down to see a blade impaling his own torso. That bastard used his last bit of his adrenaline-induced strength to grab his dagger with his off-hand and thrust it into Skuf's belly, twisting it around maliciously.

Skullcrusher roared in anger. Dagur continued to smirk at his opponent, maniacal laughing giving way to wet coughs. The two duelists spent the next moment simply tearing each other's insides apart before stumbling backward to fall to the ground and slowly fade away.

Skuf could feel Skullcrusher's dread and frustration. {You silly fool! I could have easily killed him for you! That blade will take your life!}

Skuf looked up at his dragon as he fought to hold on to consciousness a little longer. {I did this to myself. I allowed my hatred to control me and now it has destroyed me. Remember this lesson, my friend. Hate can control and destroy. It is a Red Death that every creature carries in his heart. I should not have allowed myself to be driven by hatred and now I pay the price.}

Hatred was Dagur's Red Death, too. He was consumed with a lust for more and more power. He hated anyone who had something he didn't. He resented those who had any semblance of power over him. That's why he hated the Hooligans and tried to wipe them out.

And my hatred for Dagur and the terrible things he has done was my Red Death, too, and it has killed me.

Through his fading vision, Skuf could see Stoick kneel down over him to inspect the damage. There was no room for doubt that he would not survive this. However, his greatest regret was leaving Skullcrusher alone. The dragon would be taken care of on Berk and free to fly off on his own if he chooses. However, he has always needed an opponent to defeat or a challenge to overcome and Skuf really enjoyed finding useful ways to fulfill that need.

Seeing where Skuf's attention was focused, Stoick said, "Don't worry about Skullcrusher. He'll always have a home on Berk so long as he wishes to stay. You know that. You fought well, Skuf. I pray that Odin will grant you speedy passage to Valhalla. Your deeds will not be forgotten. You... you..." Stoick choked back the tears. "You saved my son!"

Skuf coughed up blood and looked up at the chief. Skullcrusher rested his head on the floor next to Skuf and whined. Skuf reached over and wrapped his fingers around the dragon's nostrils. His frustration ebbed and was replaced by a feeling of calmness and peace as he slowly drifted away.

It wasn't so bad, he decided. The pain was mind-numbing, but it would be over, soon.

After all, there was still a political fireball to face. It was none other than the dragon whisperer who got all these dragons involved. Stoick and Hiccup could freely pin all the blame on him. Then again, how would they know he'd gladly accept the blame in death?

A thought suddenly came to mind and Skuf fought to stay awake a little longer. {Skullcrusher, I want Hiccup and Stoick to blame everything on me. Tell them that I demand it as my dying wish. I want them to put as much blame as possible on me.}

Skullcrusher whined. {What will I do without you? You gave me direction and guidance. I cannot lose you!}

Skuf settled his head to the ground and fought to keep his eyes open as darkness crept in from the edge of his vision.

{Do as we have always done. Find something worth protecting. Find something worth fighting for. I would recommend you avoid dying, though. It hurts a lot.}

Skuf's last thought before darkness overtook him gave him consolation with how things turned out. Hiccup was safe. Dagur was dead. Berk now has an alibi that cannot be interrogated.

It is better this way.

A/N:
Thanks for reading! Also, thank you for all the encouragement, 10Blue10! Writing is a lot of fun all by itself, but I always love hearing from a reader about all things good, bad, and in between. If you would like to comment, I have only one request. Please don't spoil any surprises for any future readers.