23 - Damage Control

Throst paced in front of the council in the Great Hall on Berserker Island. The councilmen were quickly transitioning from rude to just plain insulting so quickly it was tempting to take one of the many weapons mounted on the walls and throw it at these fools. Ever since he clambered onto the shore, everybody has been questioning him unceasingly. At the news of Dagur's death, the council quickly assembled to do some damage control to keep the tribe in order.

Apparently, "damage control" consisted of asking the same questions over and over again when the answer didn't sufficiently stroke their ego.

"This is the fifth time you've asked me this question," Throst snapped in annoyance. "The only ships that were attacked by dragons were the ones surrounding the flagship. It's as if their attack was some sort of coordinated extraction effort solely for Berk's heir."

One of the councilmen, somewhere in his forties, shifted anxiously in his seat. Throst never bothered to learn their names. They never did anything but talk anyway, sending younger men to die meaningless deaths. These brainless fools have never considered that there was more to expansion and conquest than simply throwing warriors at an enemy.

"But they're dragons."

Throst sighed. "An astute observation. You impress me with your vast intellect."

The old man scowled. "And they worked together as a unit?"

"My answer to that question still has not changed. Perhaps, if you ask five more times, I'll have a more satisfying-"

"And they just secured the boy and left?"

Throst stopped his pacing and walked up to stand in front of the councilman, scowling at him. "I get the feeling you're calling me a liar. Don't mire your message in excessive words. Say it plainly."

The young commander grabbed a tankard full of water that was sitting on the table in front of the councilman. His throat was starting to feel dry from all the talking and he took pleasure in the brief scowl in the councilman's face as he drank it down.

"It's just a lot of strange things to take in all at once," the older man said. "Dragons don't do that."

Another council member spoke up. He was the youngest of them, being in his mid-thirties, not much older than Throst. "Perhaps we should call for a Thing. With the Hooligans and all the other tribes in the area gathered together-"

He was cut off, though, by angry glares and grumblings of the other six on the council.

"We are not so weak that we need to wait in hopes for handouts!" shouted an older member of the council, encroaching on his sixties. "As Throst mentioned, the chief of Berk said it himself. If they had not captured the heir, then the invading fleet would have encountered seven dragons instead of hundreds. We can gather the forces again and get some of our allies to join. Swing wide of the island and approach from upwind so they have less time to react by the time we're spotted."

Throst was reminded, once again, of how glad he was that he did not mention his involvement in securing the Hooligan heir. Anyone who knew of his involvement was killed in the dragon raid. The council would gladly pin everything on him if they could, leaving a horrible lineup of candidates for chiefdom.

"You're missing the point, old man!" Throst snapped in irritation. "If the dragons have developed some sort of messiah complex around Berk's heir, then it doesn't matter if he's on a ship or the mainland. The dragons will defend him wherever he is."

One of the councilmen seemed to be chomping at the bit to retort, but the door to the great hall slammed open and a warrior came running in. He stopped in front of Throst, breathing hard, and snapped a salute.

"Sir! Messenger hawk. Addressed to you."

Throst took the offered vellum. He recognized this man to be one of the warriors in the invading fleet, but his normal duties were to patrol around the island.

"Did you see where the hawk returned, Sod?"

Sod flushed at being addressed by name in front of so many higher-ups and quickly said, "Y-Yessir. It flew back to the top of the sea stack, off the docks, to the North. There was a dragon, i-it was black. When the hawk was taken by whoever must have been up there, the dragon... fanned its wings and gave a roar, but that's it. Maybe they're waiting for a response?"

"Did you see the rider?" Throst knew the answer before he even asked the question.

"No, sorry, sir. I think I may have seen a head poke out from beside the dragon, but it was too far away to tell."

"Thank you, Sod. You may return to your duties."

Sod snapped a salute and briskly walked out. Throst unrolled the vellum, taking his time, enjoying the baited silence and suspense that fell over the council. As he scanned the document, his lips curled up into a smile.

Finally, a councilman snapped, "So, what's it say?"

Throst handed the vellum to the nearest councilman, the grumpy old one who practically called him a liar, earlier. "A Thing. Berk has called for a Thing in a week. They're asking all the tribes in the Archipelago to attend to discuss dragon training for everyone. On an island they named... Toothless Tackle."

He couldn't help but chuckle at that as the councilmen crowded around the vellum. "They named an island after one of their tamed dragons. Message says it's five leagues South of Berk and three East of the Meatheads."

Throst sensed a storm brewing and held his peace as the councilmen spoke their mind.

"Not exactly in the neighborhood..."

"Ass-end of nowhere!"

"Says Bogs, Hysterics, and Meatheads have already agreed to join the Thing."

"If I see Mogadon or Bertha on a dragon, I will shoot them down myself!"

"Think Big Bertha would just break the dragon's back with her... girth."

"Ha!"

"No more than five members per tribe on the island?! Who do they think they are?!"

"They really think that we will agree to such-"

"But they will train us to ride dragons!"

"They say they will..."

"And what image will we give ourselves, begging for such handouts?"

"Bet it's just a ruse and they'll have a dragon army waiting to roast us."

"Foolish!"

"A longboat and a few men is a small risk for such gain."

"And whose life will we just throw away like that? And don't say you're going, young rascal."

"I'm not young. I'm thirty-seven!"

"I was, too, once. If you die on such a fool's errand, it'd be all for the better, but you will not be riding a dragon before me."

"Then go yourself, old man. Sometimes, you have to take a risk."

"Kids these days."

"Like the risk we took in that failed invasion a couple weeks ago?"

"Dagur said he was sure their dragon count was small."

"Dagur is dead!"

"And good riddance!"

"Draw your sword and say that to my face! I dare you!"

"Gentlemen!"

Throst diverted his attention away from the councilmen to conceal his amused smile. Watching these pretentious fools bicker back and forth could sometimes be entertaining, but it was starting to get boring, anyway. Eventually, as they started to settle down, the oldest one - and grumpiest - spoke up.

"Berk will, no doubt, send their heir to this Thing. The dragons all raided to protect him. We still have most of our fleet and can surely get help from the Murderous and Outcast tribes in time. If an invading fleet just happens to attack Berk while the heir is away..."

The other councilmen murmured their consent. Such plan would be destined to fail, though. Berk was not indomitable - even with dragons - but subtlety and tact would win the day, not haste.

Throst realized, though, that such failure would actually be good for him. The council was already cast in a bad light after the fallout with Dagur and their full support of the failed Berk invasion. If they send a fleet to invading attack Berk only to be repelled or destroyed again, he could paint himself in the people's eyes as the voice of reason they should have listened to. Again.

Dagur was thorough in securing his chiefdom by eliminating all of his brothers and cousins, so there was no lineage for the new chief. Throst was already a candidate. If he made it clear to his peers that he would suggest diplomacy while the council pushes for another act of war, then another failed invasion would elevate him and destroy the council's credibility when they speak against him. Then, as chief, these ignorant fools could be eliminated and replaced with people who recognize the cost of blood and would pay for only that which would yield returns.

If I get the right message to the right person at the right time, I can even have the Hooligans and their dragons scare off the invading fleet and save some good warriors while earning favor with Berk, too.

Throst pretended to be distracted by other matters while the council wrote their response at the bottom of the vellum. They rolled it up, tied it, and gave it to him, telling him to make sure Berk gets their reply. With a salute of feigned respect, he turned and walked out of the Great Hall to the docks along the seaside. On the way, he stopped by the barracks and grabbed an empty coin purse, a small chunk of cured yak meat, and a short length of twine.

Stepping out onto the docks, he looked out at the sea stack off the coast. As he waited for whoever was there to spot him, he unrolled the vellum to read the response. As expected, the council had agreed that the Berserkers would attend the Thing. He grabbed a charcoal pencil, quickly wrote a note at the bottom, and signed it.

Rolling up the vellum again, he noticed a figure had come into view from the top of the sea stack, but it was too far away to see any detail. However, he knew it must be the heir if the dragon with him was the black Night Fury. Throst waved the rolled up vellum in the air over his head and a hawk was shortly sent to him, swooping down to land on his outstretched arm.

The hawk immediately stuck its head into the cloth sack to retrieve the scrap of meat. With a couple well-practiced motions, Throst secured the cloth bag over the bird's head and perched it on the dock so he could tie the vellum to its leg. He had seen enough people lose little bits of flesh when handling hawks and didn't want to repeat their mistakes.

With the message secured, he faced the hawk out toward sea and removed the bag from its head. It stood there, uncertainly blinking in the light, until Throst tapped the back of its legs with the toe of his boot, setting the bird off to fly back to the top of the sea stack.

He would make sure he was at the Thing. After all, if the council was foolish enough to send a hastily arranged invading fleet, he would not want to be on any of those ships.

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Hiccup was bored.

Very bored.

It was hardly any consolation to see that his dragon was bored, too. They had already gone through the normal activities to pass the idle time, such as wrestling together, counting the freckles on the rider's face, counting the scales on the dragon's face, lounging around, and watching the sky. Hiccup even grabbed some saddle soap and oil from the saddlebag and made sure the leather and iron were in as perfect condition as possible.

"This sucks." Hiccup idly grabbed a small stone and chucked it over the edge, watching it fall.

And fall.

And fall.

It dropped out of sight below the edge of the sea stack they were lounging on. He couldn't even see any splash to indicate it hit the water.

"I mean, we don't even know if they'll accept the idea in the first place. They're probably just too prideful to accept training from me just because I don't bash my head on rocks every day. Why do Vikings have to be... Aghhhh, Vikings!"

Toothless pressed his snout into his rider's hand so his projected thoughts could be heard. {Did you just insult yourself?}

Hiccup stood up, suddenly, waving his arms in agitation. "I am not a Viking!"

His mind flashed back to the day he shot down the Night Fury and loudly declared the exact opposite, way back when he was still trying to be more like his father, more like a Viking. A snort from Toothless told the rider his dragon made the same connection.

Hiccup dropped down to his dragon's side again. "No, I am not a Viking. I am a different type of person. I don't respect our traditions and I stopped caring about anyone who is offended by that."

The dragon voice his thoughts with a wet tongue on his rider's cheek

"Hel, why not even change what gods I'm supposed to believe in. How about, ummmm, what's-his-name who fasted for forty days and, uhhh, beat up Loki with a stone and bread? I think that's how it went. One of the traders wouldn't stop yammering about it. I think he just really wanted to sell me his books. I don't even want to think about how I would fare if I fasted for so long."

Hiccup felt a scaly nose press into his hand and was presented with an image of himself, skin clinging to his bones, weakly trying to crawl forward. Imagination was a new talent Toothless was slowly learning from his rider.

"Ha!" Hiccup snorted. "Yeah, that's about right. I guess I'll stick with good ol' Zeus and company."

Walking to the edge of the sea stack, he looked over toward Toothless Tackle island, where the Thing was being held. Though uninhabited, it was a sizable chunk of land with a dense forest, marshy swamps, and some high, rocky basins that held water and fed streams and creeks that trickled through the island and into the sea. Ships were spread out off the shore, anchored down, and little dinghies were moored up on the sandy beach. The sun peaked through the clouds here and there and Hiccup enjoyed watching a patch of sunlight float across the sea, past his sea stack, and then scoot across the island as the clouds marched along.

Though it was difficult to see from this distance, he could tell there was a sizable campfire that the people were gathered around. Hiccup had been to intertribal Things before, although this was the first he's heard of that wasn't on a tribe's main island. Supposedly, many years ago, one Thing ended when a bunch of dragons attacked, burning down the hall in which they gathered. A lot of people died in the confines of the burning hall. So, given the dragon-centric nature of this discussion, they felt safer outside with a forest nearby to negate the flight of dragons and several ships just offshore.

As much as Hiccup wanted to join his father in the Thing, he had to obey the old man. The chief did raise a very good point in the past that just as Hiccup understood dragons better than anyone else, Stoick understood people. So, he told Hiccup to stay at the top of this sea stack with his dragon until he received word that it was safe to join the Thing. The Vikings arriving from the tribes in the area would be anxious to shout their demands and, being Vikings, prone to start hitting each other. Once Stoick was satisfied they were calm enough, he would send for his son.

With everyone agreeing to have only five members per tribe on the island, Stoick was joined by Spitelout, Gobber, Snotlout, and Hookfang. Stoick already had plans for when everyone would immediately object to having a dragon on the island. If they didn't allow it, then Berk would withdraw and bye-bye dragon training. Forcing the other tribes to accept a dragon as a tribe member would help hammer home the point that dragons were more than dumb beasts. Hiccup had objected to including the hot-headed rider and his dragon and recommended Astrid and Stormfly or Fishlegs and Meatlug instead, but Stoick insisted. Hookfang was actually a pretty calm dragon - as long as Snotlout could be managed - and, if they had to beat a hasty retreat, the dragon could simply belch out a line of smoky fire to buy them some time.

In preparation for this day, the heir had spent the past two weeks with some of the dragons from the dragon safe islands who wanted to accept a rider to get to know them better and warm them up to living with Vikings. Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout, and the twins also pitched in to spend some time with them, too. There were thirty in total, including Zipplebacks, Gronckles, Nadders, Monstrous Nightmares, and a couple Timberjacks. After speaking with the dragon leaders of the surrounding islands, Hiccup set up days for small groups of these dragons to come visit Berk, where the riders would tour them around the village.

It was a tall order to fill, but if it was possible to get through to these thick-headed Vikings down there at the Thing to send some younger people who have a genuine desire to be friends with dragons, then this could be a big step towards helping the dragons be something other than targets to kill or capture in the eyes of the Vikings.

That is, if they don't just give me a bunch of Snotlouts...

As he went back to his dragon, Hiccup said, "Well, Bud, I think it's safe to say they're past their shouting contest and brawling phase of the meeting. Hopefully shouldn't be too much longer."

A thought suddenly crossed his mind. Before his body language or emotional hum could give away his intent, he quickly spun around and jumped up onto the back of the Night Fury's neck, lunging forward and reaching underneath the dragon's head, trying to scratch the base of his jawline.

Hiccup cackled maniacally and shouted, "I'm gonna getcha!"

{Oh, my poor rider, you just bit off more than you can chew.}

Toothless twisted his neck as he jumped up on his hind legs and thrashed about. Hiccup could tell the dragon was "pulling his punches", so to speak. They had learned a long time ago that if Toothless ever wanted to win a wrestling bout and pin his diminutive rider to the ground, he could, every time. A weak, one-legged boy just couldn't do much against a creature with four legs, a large tail, and a low center of gravity.

Still, Hiccup had become quite the ferret in learning how to twist and jump around. Sometimes, he couldn't tell if he was actually outmaneuvering his dragon or just being allowed such an illusion. In the early days, these wrestling bouts were very one-sided, with Hiccup being slower and more timid and Toothless being so bent on demonstrating his physical prowess. Now, though, it has become a fun little distraction.

Hiccup was thrown to the side and rolled on the ground, coming up into a crouch as Toothless squared against him, weight forward on his front legs, tail waving in the air. This was probably quite foolish with the healing rib and Hiccup knew it, but he didn't care. Besides, the rib wasn't completely broken in the first place, just a hairline crack that stopped hurting after a couple days. After two weeks, it felt fully healed, even though nobody believed him. Toothless insisted all his purring was to thank for that and there was no reason to doubt it.

Hiccup grinned at his dragon, who was playfully waving his rump back and forth.

"Here, kitty kitty."

Toothless gave a bark and lunged forward. Hiccup surprised his dragon by leaping to his right, pushing off of his stump instead of his good right leg. He ducked past a gummy snap of the maw and twisted around to jump on top of the dragon's neck, trying the same move again. This time, Toothless rolled to the side, depositing his rider on the ground. However, Hiccup had a death grip on the dragon's neck and was trying to scratch his knock-out spot at the base of his jawline again.

A paw came down on top of his chest, but he was able to scratch the base of the dragon's jawline an instant longer and a large, black head came crashing down, knocking the air out of him. Resigned to his fate, trapped under a head that weighs as much as he does, Hiccup started to stroke the scaly nose as Toothless woke up a moment later.

"I think we'll call that one a draw, eh Bud?"

Toothless licked his rider's cheek in answer.

"Also, we need to rewrite the rules. Even if I win, you're just like, Ahhhhh, that was relaxing. I, on the other hand, look like I just fought in a war... and lost... and then tripped down the stairs."

The dragon gave his rider another lick for good measure and gently lowered his head to rest on top of his rider's chest again, taking slow, deep breaths. Any wrestling match that ended with such contentment was a win for both rider and dragon. Hiccup closed his eyes and resigned himself to a nap.

"Excuse me, ladies, am I interrupting something?"

His hearts sank as he opened his eyes to see Snotlout dismounting from his crimson dragon. So much for that nap. The two walked over and leaned over the flattened rider with amused looks.

"Tag, you're it, dragon boy. Also, you have slobber on your face."

Hiccup started to pick himself up as his dragon lifted his head. "How'd the Berserker tribe react when they were told their invading fleet was spotted ten whole leagues out? I gather Throst's information was actually accurate?"

Hiccup already had a fairly good idea how things went. While Hookfang didn't know Norse, he did project everything he heard. With his impressive array of sensor lobes, Toothless was able to hear and relay everything to his rider. It was as if Hiccup was there, listening through the Monstrous Nightmare's ears. It didn't take him long to lose interest, though, when the discussion dissolved into a nonstop shouting contest.

Snotlout chuckled. "They turned red, alright. Said it was just some training exercises or something. When we mentioned that this fleet was a paltry forty ships as opposed to their hundred plus they had a few weeks ago and that we couldn't promise our three hundred dragons wouldn't burn them all if they got much closer... well, let's just say they accepted our offer to deliver a message with their seal of authority on it telling them to scoot. When they learned that Astrid and Stormfly were conveniently on the ship just offshore to deliver said message… Man, you shoulda been there. It was priceless!"

Hiccup scrunched his eyebrows. "You know we don't command those dragons, right? We would never ask them to fight our wars for us and, even if we did ask, they simply wouldn't do it."

The burly teen grinned. "Ya ya, but they don't need to know that. Astrid and Storm shadowed them for a bit and told everyone at the Thing that, after receiving the threat, the 'training exercise' fleet turned about and headed towards Berserker island."

"I dunno," said Hiccup grimacing. "It's a lie and we know it."

"Hiccup," Snotlout turned to give a hard stare to his nephew, "This lie bought us some time so we could continue with this Thing instead of fight a battle. How many Vikings and dragons do you think would have died if we did not deceive them?"

Hiccup was stunned. He stood there, holding his cousin's stare before casting his eyes down. This was one of the few times Snotlout ever spoke so seriously and actually seemed intelligent.

"I... I guess you're right."

"Damn straight, I'm right! You don't know how pissed I am that we passed up an opportunity to crack some skulls. Do you know how tempting it is to get you captured by an enemy tribe again so Hookey and I get to annihilate some more? And I really wanted to see Toothless in action again. That takedown was awesome, Mr. T."

Hiccup sighed. Usual Snotlout.

Snotlout said, "Now go preach your lovey dovey shit."

Both teens grinned.

Reaching into his saddlebag, Hiccup grabbed the saddle soap and oil and tossed it to Snotlout. "Something to keep you busy."

Snotlout rolled his eyes as he snatched the airborne items. "I still can't believe I gotta stay up here. I mean, just take Hookfang. He'll drop you and me off and then we'll still be following the 'no more than five members per tribe' rule."

Hiccup leaned against his dragon, patting his shoulder affectionately. "Ya, you just try to hold back Toothless. See what happens. Maybe you'll see that "awesome" takedown from a different angle."

Snotlout actually smiled at that. "Actually, that would be fun. Whaddya say to some friendly sparring, T? No sharp stuff, of course. My speed and warrior prowess against your… adorableness."

Toothless squared against Snotlout and wriggled his rump playfully. Hiccup smacked his dragon's snout. "Not now. Got things to do."

Snotlout threw his hands up in the air. "I mean, I can see how Toothless would count as one of the five, but it's not like you are threatening at all. We can call you plus Toothless one tribe member so I can still be there."

The larger rider looked over to see a rider and his dragon sticking their tongues out at him and rolling their eyes.

"Don't worry," Hiccup said as he saddled his dragon. "No matter how things go down, this shouldn't take long. The 'here's my offer' phase of the meeting is a lot shorter than the shouting contest and brawling phase.

Hiccup looked over at his dragon with a grin as a mischievous idea came to mind. Toothless, sensing what his rider was probably about to do, sent a sideways glare.

"Hey, Toothless, wanna make a flashy entrance?"

"Wait!" Snotlout shouted in alarm. "There's no way you're-"

He was cut off, though, by a loud roar from both Toothless and Hookfang as a one-legged boy and a black dragon dove off the edge of the sea stack.

Snotlout huffed at the edge where Hiccup and Toothless had dropped below.

"Show off!"

Hookfang leveled his head with his rider's and looked at him pointedly.

"Oh, don't you start with me!" Snotlout hefted the saddle soap in his hand. "Now Gimme your saddle."

A/N:
Thanks for reading! One chapter to go.

Also, thanks for the review, 10Blue10. Yeah, that dream Hiccup had was the start of me realizing that dreams could be a fun way to drive plot/character development. Besides, who doesn't wanna see Hiccup put his pacifist ways aside and kick some dragon ass?