It had been a long week. Dragon hunters and flyers were everywhere and nothing seemed to stop them for good. Despite this, they could not succeed in their work. Even though they dedicated their lives to capturing and killing dragons, the reptiles had vikings who were on their side and fought for them. The Berkians, Berserkers, Defenders, and Wing Maidens relentlessly protected the dragons against any and all attacks. Under their watch, no more dragons would be hunted to extinction or anywhere near. It was rewarding work, but it was equally exhausting.
The group had stopped in Berk for a moment to give their dragons a rest and regroup. For the first time in a while, it seemed like there was no enemy to fight (yet at least). Still, the vikings could not bring themselves to relax. They had been on edge for too long. Suddenly, Tuffnut spoke up.
"We need to have a night out," he said, causing the others to look at him.
"A night out?" Hiccup asked. "We just went out."
"Not like that. A night at a tavern or something. Ruff and I found this great one not too far from the Northern Markets. Very nice crowd," he revealed, with a big grin that made the others doubt he was telling the truth.
Snotlout shrugged. "Going to a tavern does sound kind of nice. We never have fun anymore."
"This is fun," Hiccup protested. "We're protecting dragons."
"And that's great," Astrid added, "but it doesn't hurt to wind down sometimes."
"She has a point," Fishlegs chimed in. "Not that I personally like the idea of a tavern per se, but going somewhere together without it requiring a fight would be a welcome change."
"Plus, I'd be able to show Minden my great drinking skills," Snotlout said, eyes twinkling.
The Wing Maiden looked hesitant. "Um, Snotlout, that's not necessary–"
"You're going to be so impressed."
"No, she won't," Ruff claimed. "Everyone knows Tuff and I can hold our mead the best! You won't last two cups."
"I'll make it past four!"
"But we'll make it past fourteen!" Tuff declared dramatically.
"First to pass out wins!" Ruff added.
"You're on!" Snotlout agreed, then stopped. "Wait…"
Hiccup ignored them and looked at the others. "Dad?"
Stoick was patting Skullcrusher's head. "There's nothing wrong with having leisure time after a job well done."
"You should've seen your father in his youth," Gobber said, laughing. "He'd drink a barrel full and then attack everyone in the tavern."
The chief frowned at him. "I wasn't that bad."
"You were to anyone within ax throwing distance."
While they reminisced, Hiccup turned his attention to the other members of their defense team. Heather was talking over this idea with Fishlegs. Throk, who had been riding Windshear with her, was near the married couple. Suddenly, a certain thought occurred to Hiccup.
"We shouldn't go to a tavern."
"Why not?" Heather asked.
The Berkian struggled to word his answer, but she followed his gaze. He was looking at Dagur who realized what he meant.
"Brother, you don't have to worry about me. I don't get drunk."
"How do you just not get drunk?"
The Berserker shrugged. "I don't know how, but I don't. I guess there's not too much more that can go wrong up here," he said, pointing to his head.
"I did not know that," Mala mentioned.
"What about you?" her husband asked. "What are you like drunk?"
The chieftess paused, becoming thoughtful. "I don't believe the situation has ever occurred."
"It has not, my queen," Throk informed her. "If anyone ever tried to intoxicate you, I would have killed them…but I suppose this circumstance is more casual."
There was a brief pause before Atali spoke. "Then, it seems like we are agreed that we will go to the tavern Tuffnut found."
"Yes!" the twins cheered.
They hopped on Barf and Belch and were soon followed by the others. The last to take off was Hiccup who glanced down at Toothless.
"Well, I guess we're off, Bud. I just hope the poor tavern remains standing by the time we're done with it."
The twins were leading the charge and had the others fly a relatively short distance to the new island. As they got closer, Mala glanced around.
"Is this island home to friends of dragons?" she asked.
"Oh, I knew we were forgetting something."
"Tuff," Astrid chastised.
The viking still looked undeterred. "Eh, there's a spot to hide all of them. This isn't home to dragon enemies at least so that's something."
"Exactly," Ruff added. "They won't try to kill them. They just won't want to pet them either."
Ruff and Tuff flew to the other side of the island and landed near a cave. As soon as they got off Barf and Belch, the dragons went inside as though it were a habit of theirs. Cautiously, the other dragons did the same. Then, the twins started walking towards a large building in the center of the island.
"The party has arrived!" they exclaimed in unison.
Seeing who they were, the other patrons cheered.
"Ruffnut and Tuffnut are back!" someone said happily. "Drinks on the house for everyone!"
The vikings regarded the twins in shock.
"We also might have left out how we come here sometimes when you're sleeping," Tuff admitted.
"But why would they be happy to see you?" Snotlout asked.
"Because we bring the party. Can't have one without us," Ruff told him. "Many a viking has tried and all have failed miserably."
"Yeah, just because you find out and crash their parties anyway," the Jorgenson said.
Before the twins could argue, they were handed cups of mead. Their eyes widened in excitement and they downed the beverages in a few gulps. Snotlout's jaw dropped and he stared.
"Give me one," he told the bartender. "I can do that." When he was given a cup, he took a big swig and nearly choked. "Ugh! What is this?"
"Mead, Snotty," Tuff told him. "Haven't you had some before?"
"Of course I have…I just…it's been a while, so I forgot."
Minden came up to him and put a hand on his arm. "It's alright if you haven't had any before."
"I've had it. I can do this."
Snotlout frowned at the cup and took a bigger swallow, shuddering afterwards. To his dismay, when he looked up, two more empty cups were in front of the twins.
"How did you–"
"Catch us!" they called out, leaping off the counter and into the crowd of vikings back first.
As they were lifted by the others, the vikings they brought went up to the bar. Heather sat down and ordered one for herself and Fishlegs.
"Do you drink?" she asked him.
"I don't often. Of course, I could make an exception today."
They were quickly presented with drinks. Throk unhappily watched Ruffnut being carried and approached the bartender.
"I'll take one as well."
He gulped down the drink he was given. Within a few minutes, everyone had received at least one drink. After a few more, they were beginning to feel the effects. Atali was unconscious and leaning against a wall. She had been like that since her third cup. Minden was not doing too much better, but she was still awake even if her eyelids wanted to contest that claim.
"You look tired, Minden," Snotlout teased, swaying in his seat.
"Yeah well…" she slurred, "I-I've had four. You're s-still on one."
Snotlout's expression turned hurt. "This is my second cup. I just haven't sipped it yet. I'm not even drunk, though." He changed and began smiling. "I'm so glad we came here! We never hang out like this. We need to more often. Right, Minmin?"
Minden's snoring woke her up and she jolted. "What?"
"You fell asleep on me?" the Dragon Rider asked tearfully.
The next set of snores only caused the weeping to continue. From a few chairs over, Dagur watched in amusement. He was still getting used to fighting with the others, but he had even less experience with just spending time with them. Snotlout kept switching between moods faster than Minden could pass out which was quite the feat. Something drew the chief's attention from the couple. It was an awful sound which he soon recognized as an attempt at singing.
"Ruffnut Thorston," Throk sang, "how I love thee."
Ruffnut was not paying attention and kept dancing with her brother and getting several more vikings to join. Realizing that he was not being noticed, Throk sang louder.
"Will thou return to Caldera Cay with me?!"
As the supposed singing continued, Tuffnut frowned and stopped dancing long enough to go over to the Defender.
"You sound awful," he commented. "Ruff only likes it when I sing badly. We sing together sometimes."
"I can sing far worse," Throk protested.
He started to clear his throat and tried. Soon, he and the Thorston were in a match to see who could sound worse. Ruff noticed this and went over to see what was going on. She got another mead and gulped it down.
"You two are having an ear bleed off without me?"
Just as she began her screeching, Throk held her hand in his.
"My love, this is to show my affection for you."
"Still? I thought that was a phase or something. I guess I just have it like that." Ruff looked intrigued. "I wonder if I could make anyone else fall in love with me. Thanks for the idea!"
"Ruffnut, no!" Throk cried, falling to his knees.
He forced himself to get up and went to get another cup. Before he could drink from it, he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"I think you've had enough, Throk," Dagur said.
"No, I…I still remember what she said," he stated, eyes locked on the flirting Berkian.
The redhead's expression turned sympathetic. "You'll find someone else, buddy."
"Not like Ruffnut," Throk moaned pitifully.
"That's kinda the hope," Dagur thought. Aloud he said, "You'll find a great viking who's really into you too."
"Do you really believe that?"
"Hey, if Snothat could find love, why couldn't you?"
"I heard that!" the Berkian called out.
Throk began smiling. "Thank you, Your Majesty. That means a lot." His eyes looked less sad, but they were still glossed over and his speech was still slurred. "I wasn't sure about you at first. I thought you were not suited for marriage with Queen Mala–mainly due to the deranged portion of your personality–but I was wrong. If such a thought is madness, consider me equally deranged! I am glad you are my king. Or chief. I am still not quite sure as to which title I need to refer to you."
The Defender slumped against the bar counter with a content smile. Dagur chuckled and patted his back before heading back to his seat. When he looked over to where Minden and Snotlout were, he saw she was officially out cold. Snotlout pitifully poked her head, trying in vain to awaken her. Shrugging, Dagur grabbed his cup and joined the Jorgenson. Snotlout's quivering lip stopped upon seeing the company.
"Dagster!"
"Stop calling me that!" Dagur saw how the Berkian shrunk, then sighed and pointed at the mead in the younger viking's hands. "You don't have to drink it. The twins haven't been paying attention since we got here. They won't even know to tease you."
"I have to win, though. It'll impress Minden."
The Berserker glanced at the snoring Wing Maiden. "I think she'd be most impressed with whichever blanket is the snuggliest."
"I bet the blanket is snugglier than me."
"Probably. Not snugglier than Hiccup, though. Just don't tell him I said that again," the Berserker said, cackling.
"You don't get it," Snotlout said, becoming unusually dreamy. "Minden's great. She's my first girlfriend. She's going to become Mrs. Jorgenson one day." Just as quickly as joy had come, he was overcome with sadness. "She's the first girl to actually like me. I'm going to ruin it if I can't drink with the others. Even Fishlegs drank more than I did!"
Dagur tilted his head at the weeping viking. It was weird seeing Snotlout like that. He knew he was more emotional than the other Riders (despite what the dark-haired man would want to admit), but the extremes reminded him almost of himself.
"Well, she didn't want to date Fishlegs–she likes you–so I doubt he's your competition."
Snotlout's eyes got wide. "You're right. I might still have a chance with her!" He glanced down at the mead. "I should probably finish this still, though, to not waste the coins."
"It's on the house, remember?"
"Oh yeah…"
Dagur rolled his eyes and swiped the cup away before Snotlout was tempted to drink more. "I'll just take that off your hands for you, Buddy."
Jaw dropping, the Berkian became teary-eyed again as a big smile crossed his face. "I knew we were buds!"
The Berserker just walked back to his seat and drank the new mead in his possession. He noticed that the seat next to him was empty. As he glanced around for Mala, he spotted Heather and Fishlegs. The warrior was barely able to stand and leaned heavily on the blond. He did not appear upset, but he did look paranoid and kept looking around with a skeptical gaze. When Dagur approached, Fishlegs protectively lifted Heather, her in one hand and a cup in the other.
"You see them, don't you?"
The chief raised an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Them! If I say their name, they'll know that we're talking about them."
Quickly, Fishlegs took a swig of the mead, eyes shifting left and right to stay aware of his surroundings.
"Have you had a lot of those?"
"Enough so that they won't think anything is up."
"Maybe you should stop."
"If I do, they'll start!"
"Oh. Um, did you see Mala?"
"No, but I bet they have. Will you let me know if they start nibbling on vikings?"
"You'll be the first I tell."
Fishlegs began frowning. "That's what they all say. You're probably one of them."
"He's not one of them, Fishlegs," Heather said drowsily. "Can you put me back down?"
"They can't get you if your feet aren't on the ground."
"Then, aren't you in danger?" Dagur asked, crossing his arms.
The Ingerman squealed at the realization and jumped, dropping the cup as the contents spilled. When he did, Dagur got Heather and put an arm around her.
"I can walk," she complained, moving.
Dagur cringed as he heard a thud. "Into walls apparently." Seeing a new red circle on her forehead, he laughed and went back to guiding her to a seat. "You and Hiccup. Can't take either of you anywhere apparently." He paused and put a hand to his chin. "Speaking of him, where is Hiccup? I also haven't seen him anywhere."
"He was drinking with Astrid when I last saw him, but I think she started doing cartwheels around the back of the tavern."
"Sure," Dagur said, shrugging. "Why shouldn't she? Stay here."
"I don't wanna," Heather said, eyes looking more closed than open.
"Better here than on the floor, which is where you'll end up if you rely on your balance."
Resignedly, Heather nodded and Dagur went off to the back of the tavern. Maybe Mala was with Astrid. This theory proved to be untrue, but the Berkian had moved on from cartwheeling and was instead part of a group dance. When she spotted him, she grabbed his wrist.
"Dagur!" she called, laughing in joy. "You've got to join us! Look what the twins started!"
In the center of a circle, the twins were either having violent convulsions or dancing. Judging by the cheering vikings, Dagur assumed it was the former. The other patrons were doing far more conventional dances and Astrid seemed to be having the time of her life with joining them.
"It's weird seeing you so happy," he mentioned. "You almost seem giddy."
"I am giddy. What's there to not be giddy about? We do great work with the dragons and have great friends. Life is amazing! I'm so glad we came here! We should come every weekend." She pointed to her right in excitement. "Gobber's dancing too! Go, Gobber! Woo!"
The blacksmith had locked arms with another viking and was going round and round. His face was flushed, but that did not stop him from taking one more sip before rejoining the dance as the music picked up again. Seeing there was no point in resisting, Dagur joined the dance for a song. Gobber had hobbled his way over by this time and was laughing with as much glee as Astrid.
"I haven't had this much fun since I was a lad!" He gestured upwards. "Since when did the air get a makeover? It does look pretty in purple, though."
He wobbled a bit and the Berserker helped him catch his balance. Gobber put a hand to his forehead.
"It's possible I might be getting too old for this type of fun. Of course, I heard I wasn't much better at holding my mead back then either, so I'm probably fine."
The Berkian went to get another cup, but Dagur snagged it in time. "No more for this one," he told the server.
"That's not fair," the older viking said, hiccuping. "I…I should drink that one at least."
The chief swallowed the beverage and set down the cup again. Gobber sadly looked at the container.
"I was going to drink it."
"I know. That's why I did first." Dagur paused. "When you stop seeing purple in the air–or other colors–I won't stop you."
He left the man to continue his search. This tavern was bigger than it looked. Of course, nothing seemed big when compared to Stoick the Vast. In one corner, the Berkian chief was nursing his fifth mead and had bright red cheeks.
"I wonder if those Dragon Riders got stopped yet," one of the bartenders mentioned to another patron.
"I bet that skinny viking with one leg got taken down a while ago. Poor little guy."
"What?!" Stoick bellowed, reaching for his ax.
Dagur stopped him in time and was sent a death glare as a result. "I don't think they're hoping it happened. They're just talking."
The other chief hesitated and then lowered his hand away from the weapon. He huffed and grasped the cup again.
"They shouldn't talk that way."
Dagur paused, then started laughing.
"What's so funny?" Stoick asked, frowning at him.
"Gobber did say you were an angry drunk. I guess he was right."
"I'm not angry! They're just insufferable! So is Gobber sometimes." The father eyed the Berserker, then the seat. "Well, are you going to join me for a drink?"
Deciding it would be easier to do this quickly, Dagur sat down and ordered another mead.
"You Berkians get…riled at taverns, huh?"
"What is that supposed to mean?" Stoick asked, lifting a brow.
"Nothing bad," Dagur said, taking his drink. "No need to get defensive."
"I wasn't!"
"Sure," the younger chief said, chuckling. "And I don't have a temper either."
The Berserker finished his drink and was about to get up when Stoick ordered two more. Dagur's face took on a concerned look.
"Not to be bossy, but maybe you should start putting some cups of water in the mix."
"Bah," the father said, flicking his wrist and leaning forward even more. "Chiefs need times like this. You get how it is. There's a lot on our shoulders." He paused. "On that topic, think you could take Gustav for another week?"
"Nope," Dagur told him, shaking his head. "Not doing that again. Sorry big guy. He's all yours."
Peeking at him with an eye, the Berserker made sure that Stoick's hands did not venture near the ax. The older viking sighed and reached for the cups, then missed.
"All the…more reason I need these."
"Can you get him some water?" the redhead asked the bartender, seizing one of the cups.
"Hey!"
Dagur just grinned. "You'll thank me in the morning." He stopped and glanced towards a crowd of vikings who were not at stools. "Do you think you'll kill anyone if I'm not here?"
"Depends on what they say."
The younger viking called to the bartenders and others sitting nearby. "Hey, don't talk about dragons if you want your torsos and legs to stay closely acquainted."
At first, they were confused, but as they saw the fuming viking on the stool, they understood and nodded.
Dagur clapped his hands together happily. "Good. Handled that problem. Now, to find Malapoo," he sang.
He went through the crowd, but it was becoming increasingly difficult as two conga lines started. Naturally, the twins were at the front of each. After going around a couple of times, they wiggled free and went back to the bar, though their movements were noticeably more sluggish and they kept falling into each other.
"Maybe it's time to slow down with the meads," Dagur commented.
"No, no, our deranged friend," Tuff said, looking in the wrong direction.
"I'm over here."
Spinning, Tuff made a full circle, making Dagur chuckle.
"I think you two are finally drunk."
"We're…so sober right now. It's insane!" Tuff told him. "More than you even."
"I'm still not over there."
"It's like we didn't even drink eight cups," Ruff said, bumping into Tuff who was mid spin and seemed not to even feel anything.
"Besides, we agreed to only stop when someone passed out." Tuff added.
"You look pretty close to it."
"We've still got lots of partying in us!"
"Oh yeah?"
"Yeah!" they cried simultaneously.
Dagur conceded. "Fine, but don't give yourselves alcohol poisoning."
Tuffnut's eyes bulged. "Poisoning? Wait, we can actually die from this?"
"If you drink too much, you could."
The twin turned to his sister. "Um, m-maybe we have had enough."
Ruffnut shoved him away. "He's bluffing."
"I don't bluff, Ruff."
"He doesn't," Tuff chimed in. "He really was going to take off my legs that one time."
"See? Better listen to us, Ruffy."
Ruffnut seemed to take this as a personal challenge.
"You said you don't get drunk."
"I don't."
"How many cups have you had?"
Dagur paused to think. "Um, nine maybe."
The twins gasped. "He's winning!"
"I wasn't really competing with–"
"Okay, big drinker. If you can drink three more with us and not even feel a little tipsy, we'll stop."
"I could save you the time and tell you I'm not going to feel differently."
"We have to see for ourselves."
"It's true," Tuff admitted. "Thor cursed us with curious minds. We must know!"
Reluctantly, Dagur went over to the counter again and ordered nine cups. He drank his first two in a matter of seconds, earning competitive frowns from the siblings. Tuffnut tried to speed through his. When he was halfway through the second cup, he passed out. Ruffnut glanced at the limp body and kept going, eyes locked on Dagur's.
"Feeling…dizzy?" she asked, swaying slightly.
"Nope."
"Not even the you to my right?" she inquired, pointing to the viking in her doubled vision.
"Not even that me."
Dagur drank the third cup and Ruffnut sadly regarded him. She took off her helmet.
"You have beaten us, oh Berserker chief and Defender king. Well played."
As soon as she was done speaking, she joined her brother in slumber. Dagur moved them to a corner where they would not be bothered by anybody and kept looking around the tavern. At this rate, he would not have been surprised if he saw the queen digging a hole to get to the ocean. It would be normal considering how everyone else was acting. To add to this bizarreness, he saw Hiccup in a fighting stance.
"You take that back!" the young man ordered, struggling to stay firmly planted in his position.
A viking was about to punch him when he saw Dagur's glare and stopped. He did an about face and went back to the counter.
"I would've been fine," Hiccup said lazily.
Dagur sighed. "Fair point. I guess you don't really need your brain inside your head. Did he say something about dragons?"
"Said that the hunters were doing Odin's work."
The Berserker frowned. "That sucks, but there could be a lot of vikings here who feel the same and the others are way too out of it to be in a fight. You included."
"I'm fine," Hiccup assured him.
"How many fingers am I holding up?"
"Two."
"My arms are behind my back."
The Berkian rubbed his eyes. "Okay, maybe you have a point."
"Ah, I never get tired of hearing that. When are you going to learn to listen to me more?" he asked with a wide grin. "Big brothers are just wise. Comes with the territory. Sorry it's not something you'll understand."
Hiccup was too drowsy to sigh properly. Instead, he opted for sitting down before he fell.
"How many cups did you have?"
"I lost count after Astrid started doing handstands. I was trying to keep up with her."
"That was your first mistake. Have you seen Mala?"
"A little while ago. She was arguing with someone I think."
Dagur felt himself tense. "Was it getting heated?" He realized he was asking the wrong person for anything involving memory accuracy. "Try not to get into any more bar fights until I get back."
"No promises."
The chief picked up his pace and listened closely for sounds of someone getting killed. He did not hear that, but he did hear more cheering. A group of vikings had gathered around a table. Sitting down were a large viking and Mala. They were arm wrestling and the queen was winning easily. Her tidy hair was messy and she had a taunting smile on her usually calm face. She finally ended the match by bringing her hand to the table with enough force that it flipped the other viking.
"Queen Mala! Queen Mala!" the onlookers chanted.
The queen stood on the table, basking in the praise. When she spotted her husband, she leapt down and into his arms.
"I won! That viking thought he was stronger than I was. How foolish of him," she said, snuggling her nose against Dagur's.
"No one's stronger than my beloved," he said, squeezing her.
Unlike Hiccup, her bones did not threaten to break when he hugged her. Mala began to laugh and wrapped her arms around him. She put a hand to the side of his face.
"I never noticed how your tattoos are the color of the deepest parts of the ocean. I like them. I should get tattoos as well. It has been decided. Let's see if anyone here knows how to do it. I can get them tonight."
"How about we hold off on that, Malapoo. I don't know if clear-headed you would be as happy about that decision as you think she'd be."
"Nonsense. I am completely clear-headed." She held a couple strands of her hair. "It is so clear that I can practically look through this."
Dagur kissed her forehead. "Kind of helping prove my point."
A sad look appeared on the queen's face. "I thought we could match. I am chieftess of the Berserkers now. Isn't it customary? You wear the Defender king crown for ceremonies."
"If you still want them in the morning, I'll do them myself."
Mala's face lit up. "That would be wonderful!"
The queen kissed him and got down from his arms. There was a blush on her face not caused by her intoxication. She kissed him again, moving a hand to the back of his head. After a few moments, the queen whispered something in his ear and Dagur's face became red.
"Mala," he said, wearing a slightly bashful smile, "we're not exactly alone."
"Does that matter? I want the world to know of our love."
"Well, that's fine, but…maybe they don't need a demonstration."
Mala looked disappointed, but her droopy eyes went to the floor. She tilted her head and pointed in fascination.
"There is a rather large dragon coming through the floor. Should we alert Hiccup Haddock?"
Dagur followed her gaze and saw how incredibly normal and dragonless the floor was. He took her hand in his and smiled.
"I think we can tell him later."
Mala gave a goofy grin and nodded enthusiastically. She took his other hand and went to the center of the tavern.
"Dance with me," she requested.
Happily obliging, the two danced, but it was less graceful than their dance of blades. Twice, Mala nearly tripped over her own feet, but Dagur held her close enough to not let her fall. When the song ended, she excitedly clapped and cheered for the musicians. Dagur began to laugh, looking at her.
"Why are you laughing at me?" she asked, frowning slightly but appearing more silly than stern.
"Because I've never seen you not being proper in public before."
Mala was going to argue, but suddenly she felt very ill. She began turning green and Dagur's brows creased.
"You've had too much to drink. It's time for us to go back home."
"But everyone is having fun," she weakly protested.
"Everyone is drunk out of their minds or unconscious. I'll come back for them, but I'm getting you back first."
Gently, the chief lifted his wife up and went to where the dragons had been hidden. They got on Sleuther's back and flew back to Defenders of the Wing Island since it would have allowed for him to fly directly to their home instead of having to first go to the stables like on Berserker Island. When they reached the hut, Dagur gingerly put the queen on a bed and put on a fire to burn some water and herbs. The scents began to ease her upset stomach. Sure that she was fine, Dagur got back on the Triple Stryke and flew out to the tavern once more.
This time, he got a large ship. The other vikings were in no shape to sail or ride dragons since they likely would have fallen off. Dagur got the dragons and had them wait on the vessel for their riders. Then, he found the twins still nuzzled up to each other and asleep, so he put each over his shoulder and tossed them onto the ship. He did this with everyone until he got to Gobber and Stoick. They were the tricky ones. Tapping his chin, his face brightened with an idea.
"Gobber," he called out, "there's a Lycanwing that's going to get Hiccup."
"What?!"
"He went this way. Come on!"
Hurriedly, the blond followed him to the ship and glanced around, confused until he forgot what he had come there to do anyway. He quickly began to amuse himself with the floorboard. That just left Stoick. He was mostly asleep, but he would wake up long enough to growl at some vikings who got too close.
"Stoick," Dagur said, trying to see how aware of his surroundings he was.
The Berkian groggily opened his eyes. "Where is everyone?"
"I'm taking everyone back home. Most of you were already asleep."
"Were they?" the man asked, rubbing his eyes.
He slowly stood from the counter and began leaving. After being redirected, he changed his course from towards the dragon hiding spot and to the ships. Dagur made his stops along the way to first drop Minden and Atali off, then Heather, and finally the Berkians. The other vikings of the islands were helpful in getting them back to their homes, so he was able to keep going. When there was just Throk, he told the Berkians to be sure the ship was returned and took the guard and Sleuther back to Defenders of the Wing Island. He was thoroughly tired by the time he got to his hut but still smiled at the sight of his peacefully sleeping wife. Before long, he joined her in that slumber.
When morning came, Mala felt much better. She rolled over and grinned, seeing the chief. She caressed the side of his face.
"Last night was fun…I think. I do not remember much of it."
Dagur's eyes stayed closed as he smiled. "Should I get the blue tattoo ink out?"
"Tattoo ink?"
The man chuckled, but it was a little pitiful. Mala looked at him with worry.
"Are you alright?"
"Eh…"
"I thought you said you don't get drunk."
"I don't. Never said anything about hangovers, though."
After a few moments of contemplation, Mala left and the head throbbing continued. She was not gone for a long and returned, gently putting a cup in her husband's hand.
"No," he groaned, trying to give it back and burying himself in his pillow. "No more mead for a year. I always knew those Berkians had it in for me."
"This is not mead," she informed him warmly. "It is tea made from willow bark. Though the people of Caldera Cay do not often become intoxicated, we have remedies for its effects."
Dagur raised his head and took a sip. It was surprisingly delicious and he could already feel the aching stop.
"You're the best, Malapoo."
He drank the rest and engulfed the queen in a bear hug, tickling her. She giggled and lightly punched his arm. An ornery look crossed his face.
"We're alone," he mentioned. "Too bad you forget everything that happened yesterday."
Mala smiled and went to close the bedroom door. "I did not say that I forgot everything."
With a half-crazed but wholly thrilled laugh, Dagur picked her up. Those Berkians might have had a point. Every once in a while, some times like these could be very fun.