To know that an enemy is defeated causes an indescribable emotion. Hiccup could hardly fathom how he was feeling. All he knew was that he was relieved, but there was so much more to it than that. The war with the Berserkers had not just ended, it had been won. It was over. No more vikings tricking Johann into getting Smothering Smokebreaths to steal all their metal; no more dragon root being left in their dragon training academy to make their dragons lose control; no more fighting and most importantly, no more Dagur. At least not after the trial. This is where the Berkians were. Hiccup and the other Riders were in the audience as Stoick and the members of the Berk counsel awaited the young chief's arrival. They knew he would not be late. It was not exactly as though he were able to go anywhere.
"I can't believe it's actually over," Hiccup said, whispering to Astrid.
The warrior nodded with a small frown on her face. "I'm just glad that no one really got hurt in all this. Now, Dagur can get what's coming to him." A sound caught her attention and she smirked. "Speak of the devil."
Entering the area were two vikings. Alvin had just gotten there and was holding chains. They were attached to the wrists of the viking walking behind him. As they walked past the crowd, there were sounds of mutterings and mocking. The Outcast had a somewhat unreadable expression on his face, but it was clear that he was glad about this day finally coming. Behind him, Hiccup was surprised as he saw Dagur. Naturally, he was not surprised to see him, but it was how he saw him which surprised the viking. The Berserker's helmet and armor were gone, but he still was walking like a chief instead of a prisoner. Whether it was arrogance or a facade, he seemed completely unfazed by where he was and what was happening, only scowling a few times when he heard someone laughing.
Dagur was not as proud as he looked. He had never felt more humiliated than he was then, chained up and being brought before his enemies for them to decide his fate. Still, he refused to give the Berkians the satisfaction of knowing he felt that way. So, he would walk with his head held high and with his eyes locked on Stoick. He knew how this was supposed to work and that he was the one who had the final say over his punishment. The Berserker knew weakness was a call to attack. He would die before giving his foes that.
When they got beyond the audience, Alvin put a heavy hand on Dagur's head, forcing him onto his knees. Instinctively, the chief snarled and started to push himself back up, but a sword was swiftly brought to the back of his neck. Eyes widening, he stopped and knelt like was expected of him. Not wanting this moment to last longer than necessary, he returned to glaring at Stoick.
"Chief Dagur the Deranged of the Berserker Tribe," the Berkian said, frowning, "you are guilty of the crime of violating the peace treaty between Berk and Berserker Island. In doing so, you have endangered the lives of my son, my vikings, and threatened my own. The counsel and I have discussed this and decided your punishment. You will be sentenced to death at dawn."
Dagur's stomach sank. Unbeknownst to him, Hiccup leaned forward in his seat, brows furrowed.
"I didn't know they were going to do an execution," he said under his breath.
"What did you expect?" Astrid asked him. "He broke the treaty."
"Yeah, I know but…"
Hiccup was not sure what he planned on saying or why he even cared at all. Maybe he did not. There was no reason to care. If Dagur was dead, then he was also harmless. That was what the Berkian heir should have wanted more than anything. When he heard the other viking's voice, he was ready to sigh.
"He's probably about to try to convince them why this is a mistake," he thought.
"What about my Berserkers?" Dagur asked, to the surprise of all the Berkians.
They were so shocked that they did not immediately respond. This caused him to become pale.
"They weren't part of what I did," he added. "I'm their chief. I ordered them to attack, so you can't kill them."
Alvin sneered down at him. "We can do whatever we want, boy."
Stoick had a more thoughtful look on his face and visually examined the other chief. His expression had changed. He no longer looked so proud, but pleading. His voice conveyed even more of his desperation. For the first time since knowing him, Stoick could relate to the viking. He was not thinking like a lunatic or a menace. He was thinking like a chief and the father could respect that.
"The Berserkers had to follow you," he said. "Their lives likely would have been in danger if they'd refused an order, so charging them with your crime is unjust. They won't be allowed to appoint a new chief for five years, but they won't be harmed."
Dagur visibly relaxed, hearing this. Stoick's eyebrow lifted and he could tell he was not the only one who was confused. Alvin was glaring at the young chief.
"Aren't you going to beg for your life?" he asked, tapping his sword on the Berserker's back.
"No," came the response. "It wouldn't work. At least my vikings will be fine."
Alvin's frown deepened as Stoick spoke again.
"Then, if this has concluded, you will be placed in a cell until daw–"
"Hold on, Stoick," Alvin interrupted.
"Is something wrong?"
"It is. I think we're making a mistake here. If we kill Dagur, then it's over. The Berserkers can forget about him."
"Wouldn't it be better if they did?"
"No, because then they can do what they did and attack again. If we spare him, he'll be a living reminder of what happens when you break a treaty."
Dagur turned slightly to look at the viking, a frown forming on his face. Stoick considered this, glancing at the counsel. They looked indifferent to the idea.
"I'll even be his jailer," Alvin volunteered. "Outcast Island has a prison suitable for him. He'll spend the rest of his miserable life there."
After another moment, Stoick made his decision. "Very well. As of now, Dagur will be your prisoner. This marks the end of the trial."
With a grin, Alvin yoked Dagur up by the chains. His face was distraught and he pulled against the restraints to stay where he was.
"Wait," he pleaded. "I didn't break a treaty with Alvin. He can't be my jailer. I broke the treaty with Berk. I'm supposed to be imprisoned here if I'm not getting killed."
Stoick was unmoving. "The decision has been made. Everyone, you are free to go home."
The Berkians began getting up, but Hiccup hesitated. He just kept watching the struggling viking. Alvin's expression looked furious as he began dragging the Berserker away by the chains. Dagur planted his feet, but the giant Outcast was too strong for this to be effective.
"He's treacherous! It's right there in the name. You can't leave me with him. I thought you were all about peace and mercy."
"That does not extend to vikings who ignore treaties which have been in place for decades. If you wanted to be treated as a friend, you would have made different decisions," Stoick stated, getting up from his seat.
Dagur nervously watched him return to the center of the island before he was yanked backwards. He kept trying in vain to get away, but it only resulted in the chains starting to make his skin raw. Hiccup was the last Berkian to leave, being the sole one to see what could only have been described as a pitiful look on the former chief's face. For a split second, Dagur noticed that Hiccup had not gone and locked eyes with him. He had a hopeful expression as he visually scanned the other viking's face. This was Hiccup. Of course he would have something to say on the matter. When the Berkian did not, the hopeful look changed. A chill went down Hiccup's spine. There was so much hatred in Dagur's eyes that the younger viking was certain he would have had a knife going through his heart had the Berserker not been chained. Fortunately for him, he did not have to receive the look for long since Alvin seemed to be in a rush to begin the imprisonment.
Regardless, something about this bothered Hiccup. He went off where he had seen Stoick go and found him in the Great Hall. It seemed like everyone was preparing a celebration to mark the end of the war. Though he did not want to ruin the mood, he approached the chief. Stoick immediately noticed something was going on with his son and motioned to be followed into a quieter area so that they could hear one another.
"You're troubled," he commented. "Why's that?"
"I don't really know," Hiccup admitted. "It seems weird to be upset about it. I mean, Dagur hates me more than anyone, so I should be the main one celebrating. I just…why isn't he being imprisoned here?"
"Because Alvin wants to be his jailer. He's still upset about him trying to electrocute him with the Skrill."
"Yeah, but that might be why it's a bad idea for him to be the jailer."
Stoick raised an eyebrow. "I don't think I follow."
Hiccup rubbed the back of his neck. "It's just that I know Alvin is our ally again, but he has a bit of a vindictive streak in him to put it lightly. After what happened between the two of them…"
"You're worried he'll be mistreated."
"I probably sound crazier than Dagur for saying so, but yeah."
"Whether he is or isn't will be the result of Dagur's own actions. If he hadn't attacked us, he would be fine right now."
"I don't disagree with that, but it does seem a little," he paused, considering the right word, "harsh to sentence him to spend the rest of his life with an angry Alvin the Treacherous."
"Again, it's a sentence he's brought on himself. You'll forget about him soon enough and won't even remember why you were upset. Until then, just try to enjoy the celebration. It's a good day, Hiccup," Stoick said, returning to where the others were. "We defeated a dangerous enemy. If we begin viewing that as a reason to be unhappy, then we're doomed to fail when worse threats come."
Despite how he was feeling, Hiccup nodded in agreement. Maybe his father was in fact right. He might just need some time to move on and realize how nice it is to not have to worry about someone attacking. As soon as that happened, he was certain that he would be glad Dagur was out of their hair. At least he hoped this would be the case.
As Hiccup was in the middle of trying to enjoy the festivities, Dagur was on an Outcast ship, heading to Alvin's island. It was not a very long voyage, but it felt like it was taking an eternity. All the while, swords were pointed at him by the Outcasts, just daring him to move a muscle. There was an annoying feeling of fear that he could not ignore. He had never been unable to get to his vikings. Having an armada at your command was quite the comfort. This time, he just felt remarkably alone.
"You really want to spend the rest of your life with me around?" he asked, looking at Alvin who was steering the ship. "You're kind of old. I'll probably outlive you."
The Outcast only smirked and continued steering until the island came into view. He pulled into the harbor and his vikings forced their prisoner to go up the dock and into a dark area. It stunk and had cells everywhere. With each step, Dagur felt like his spirits were sinking lower. Once they were at the very back of the prison, Alvin opened a cell door and had the Outcasts push Dagur inside. Once he was, Alvin entered as well. He pointed to the floor.
"On your knees."
Dagur indignantly stood tall. "I don't take orders from you."
The Outcast glared and closed the bar gate, stepping closer and drawing his weapon. "You're no chief anymore. You're practically nothing. All you are is my prisoner."
Alvin grabbed the chain, yanking Dagur. He scowled at him as his eyes trailed over the viking's face.
"You almost look sane. It's deceitful," he said.
He roughly grabbed the prisoner's shirt at several spots, causing it to tear. Then, he pointed the sword at the Berserker's throat.
"On your knees…unless you want me to bring the other Berserkers here."
Dagur's eyes widened. "Stoick said they'd be safe."
"Stoick did; I didn't. Do it."
Scowling, the viking obeyed the command. Alvin kept the weapon pointing at him to discourage any attempts at fighting. Briskly, he undid the neat braid, making the hair look messier. Next, Alvin cut Dagur's left arm with the blade. Blood started to go down his arm, but he only grimaced. Seeing the lack of a major reaction, the Outcast brought the sword down twice over his right shoulder and once over his left. The cuts were deep and quickly drew blood. Alvin moved so that he was in front of Dagur.
"Hold still," he ordered.
Dagur begrudgingly did and scowled as the sword was brought by his right cheekbone. Swiftly, Alvin cut and sliced down. Afterwards, he went under the eye and sliced down to his mouth.
"Done yet?" Dagur asked, feeling the warm blood dripping down his face.
"I'm done when I say so."
Alvin lifted the sword's tip to the eyebrow and went over the eye.
"I've saved the best for last," he informed the viking.
Finally, he brought the blade over his ear. As slowly as he could, he lowered the blade until it reached Dagur's chin after doing a bit of a diagonal. The viking had to close his right eye so that the blood did not enter. It kept dripping down his cheek and chin, getting onto his clothes.
"Now, you have a piece of me forever. Don't get used to this nice treatment for long. I just have a few things I want to prepare for tomorrow, so I'll be leaving earlier today. I think this is a good way to start our time together, though." Alvin almost removed the chains, then stopped. "I heard that you wanted vikings to kiss your boot."
"Not vikings. Hiccup."
"I don't care about the specifics. You can kiss mine."
Dagur scowled. "I'm not doing that."
"You will if you don't want my vikings going into Berserker Island in the middle of the night, killing whoever we see."
The former chief glared at him for a moment longer, then bent down. As he got closer to the boot, Alvin lifted his foot and stepped on his head. The pressure seemed enough to crack a skull, but the viking knew just how to make sure he did not end the fun too quickly. He lifted his foot and kicked the Berserker in the chest. Then, he removed the chains. With his hands free, Dagur wanted to strangle the Outcast, but it would be too risky given how his vikings would be in danger. As more blood went down his face, he put his right hand to his face to try to make it stop, but it did nothing and he angrily looked at the red coating on his hand. Snarling, he glared at Alvin with every bit of loathing in his body. With a parting smile, Alvin went to the cell bars.
"Welcome back to Outcast Island, Dagur. I imagine it'll be very different from your last time here." He exited and locked the cell. "See ya in the morning."
