A/N: Doing an unwise thing in releasing both chapters today, as my buffer is empty again. But you guys have waited long enough so I'll just have to do better I guess. Not that I'll succeed though.
...
The Range Rover rolled to a halt outside the high gates of the military base, the wheels kicking up dust as it settled. The guard stationed in the booth, accustomed to the comings and goings of soldiers and occasional dignitaries, was taken slightly aback as he peered out and saw none other than the imposing figure of Stoick the Vast, mayor of Berk, behind the tinted windows.
With a practised motion, the guard straightened in his seat and slid open the window of the booth. "Can I help you, sir?" he inquired, his tone respectful yet guarded.
Stoick inclined his head, the lowered window revealing his stern but concerned expression. "Yes, I want to speak with my son. Is Captain Haddock—"
"He's on leave, Sir," the soldier interjected, his voice tinged with an air of reverence. "For a week. He told me personally."
The mayor's brow furrowed in thought, processing this unexpected information. "On leave?" Stoick echoed, seeking confirmation, to which the guard nodded crisply. "Okay, thank you. I'll be going then."
The guard, well-trained in the art of discretion, offered no further details, simply closing the booth window as Stoick's vehicle manoeuvred away.
As the Range Rover made its way toward Hiccup's residence, Stoick wrestled with the weight of the news he bore. How to broach the delicate topic of the bomb discovered in his office weighed heavily on his mind. He knew his son deserved to know, yet he grappled with the best approach.
Lost in contemplation, Stoick arrived at Hiccup's house, a formidable structure that stood proudly against the backdrop of Berk. He rapped on the door, the sound echoing through the quiet neighbourhood.
Seconds ticked by, each one stretching into eternity as anticipation built.
No response.
Again, Stoick's fist met the sturdy wooden door, the reverberation more forceful this time.
Minutes slipped away, but there was still no sign of movement from within.
Frustration tinged with concern crept into Stoick's features. Retrieving his phone from his pocket, he dialled his son's number, the ringing breaking the silence of the deserted porch. But the call went to voicemail.
And then he heard it mere seconds later—a distant, faint ringing emanating from within Hiccup's home.
Realization dawned upon Stoick. His son's phone must have been forgotten or misplaced, its insistent ring muffled within the walls. His mind accepted this as an explanation, failing to register how the call had gone to voicemail a moment or two prior.
Turning away, a foreboding feeling settling over him, Stoick marched back to his car, a singular question echoing in his mind.
Son, where are you?
But fate intervened cruelly. The deafening explosion tore through the serene neighbourhood, engulfing Hiccup's house in a cataclysmic blast that shattered the quietude of that particular corner of Berk. Stoick, caught in the midst, was instantly taken from the world.
Down the street, a man observed the devastation from the confines of his vehicle. His gaze was cold and calculating as he watched the chaos unfold. Toothless, sedated and unaware in his guardian's lap, stirred slightly but failed to wake. A faint smirk tugged at the corner of the man's lips as he scanned the street for any signs of approaching witnesses. Satisfied, he started the engine and smoothly drove away, leaving a scene of tragedy in his wake.
…
Elsewhere on Berk at that very moment, the passenger side door of a particular car was jerked open. "Step out. I need to show you something."
"What?" Grimmel asked, glancing over at Hiccup.
His reply was simple. "Follow me to find out."
So that is what Grimmel did, driven by the possibility of obtaining answers from Hiccup, even as the man turned away.
A cautious trek followed, both of them avoiding puddles and the chance of slipping while ignoring the rain that continued to fall on them and the stone footpath as they traversed the area. Which Grimmel quickly realised was a graveyard.
Up ahead, Hiccup came to a halt in front of an open grave. Or rather two graves, as Grimmel found with a closer look when he reached Hiccup.
Grimmel looked around, quickly making out several figures spread out across the graveyard in a circle, all of them armed, he noted, but each weapon concealed on their persons.
"I had assumed, especially considering your previous line of work, you wouldn't stoop to clichés. Killing someone in a graveyard is too on the nose."
Hiccup finally turned and looked at him, speaking before trailing off. "You won't die here today. Unless…"
"Unless what?" Grimmel questioned
"Unless you refuse to tell us everything you know about Drago. War is coming Grimmel, and knowing you, you'd hate to die and be left to rot in an unmarked grave; forgotten about completely."
Hiccup took a step closer to Grimmel. "In death, you can be known as the man who ended a war in the shadows. A more favourable alternative in your opinion, wouldn't you agree?"
Grimmel stared at him for a long moment. Then it all clicked.
"You're planning to take on Drago. The second grave is for him. Haddock, that might not go how you imagine, even if I did tell you everything I know about him."
"Then it won't be my problem, will it? The powers that be can handle things afterwards."
"Are you forgetting a certain someone? That girl you were with. Your fiancé…"
Hiccup raised an eyebrow at him.
"I noticed the ring on her finger; you always were the sentimental sort… but right now you don't seem to care… why?"
A shadow fell across his face. "I do care about her, but apathy is a powerful thing. There are others, spawned on this Odin forsaken rock I care nothing at all for."
Hiccup sighed, and his face brightened again.
"Back to the matter at hand. Are you going to help us, or die unknown, buried in an unmarked grave? Time to choose, Grimmel. We don't exactly have all day, lest we all risk getting spotted together by the police. You have one minute before we dump you here, literally or figuratively."
"It would take longer than that to fill either one of those graves in, again."
"Correct, so that's why we won't be doing that, in the event that we need to kill you. Just dump your would-be corpse in the empty grave, the police or the undertaker or even a grave visitor notice you, and you get taken to the morgue. Rest assured there will be no DNA evidence to speak of, aside from your own blood."
Hiccup snapped his fingers, and each of the men on the sidelines drew their guns and took aim.
"How very thorough and morbid of you," Grimmel drawled, rolling his eyes. "But I suppose with that degree of thoroughness, Alvin has a fighting chance in this 'war in the shadows' as you put it. I'll tell you about Drago on one condition."
"Not really in a position to give conditions, but let's hear it."
"I want to use some of Alvin's men to fight Drago in this 'war in the shadows'"
"Absolutely not. If given the chance, you'll convince them to help you escape."
"It's Alvin who has the final say, is it not? Call him. See what he thinks. Or shoot me, and lose everything I know."
Hiccup glared, fury flashing in his eyes as Grimmel smirked. "Yes, Grimmel, I really should shoot you. Then we can get out of here."
"Sir…" one of the men standing close by, interjected, possessing a deep voice. "Shouldn't we let Alvin know about this, like he said?"
"Yes, Scott. You're right…"
Grimmel's smirk widened at Hiccup's reluctant admission. "You were saying something about me dying to be forgotten about. I think I'll be remembered for a little bit, which is good enough for me. Otherwise, you'd have to kill Scott too."
Hiccup took out his phone and called Alvin, turning his back to ignore Grimmel entirely. "No, Alvin, not yet. The idiot is making conditions and stuck in a self imposed delusion of his own grandeur. He wants to become a General in our war. Really? Really. Fine. Yes sir."
When Hiccup pocketed his phone, Grimmel could see he was anything but pleased, judging by his shoulders and neck tension.
"Scott. Take him to Alvin. The boss wants to talk to him. This is where I part ways with you fine gentlemen for the time being."
Scott stepped over to Hiccup. He had ginger hair and was a few inches taller than Hiccup, reaching 6'4, with a physique that made him suitable for a career as a wrestler or a boxer.
When Scott reached him, Hiccup turned to face Grimmel. "This is Scott McCartney. Treat him with respect because he's part of the reason you're still alive. If you don't, I will personally introduce you to my toolkit when we're done with Drago."
Grimmel smirked once more. "Now, now. Is that any way to speak to a general?"
Hiccup shook his head. Laying a hand on his shoulder, he whispered into Grimmel's ear. "I outrank you, Grimmel. You overestimate how valuable you are to Alvin. Don't forget the grave behind me with your name on it; I could kill you, and after chewing me out, Alvin would ultimately not give a fuck."
The smirk was wiped from Grimmel's face. As a result, Hiccup wore a smile as he set off, back down the path towards the car they had arrived in, to leave.
But then Hiccup returned home, and soon he too, was no longer smiling.
...
As Hiccup navigated his car into the parking spot, the faint scent of gasoline lingered in the air, a grim reminder of the destruction that had recently ravaged his home. The remnants of charred smoky wood and blackened stone created an eerie backdrop as he killed the engine, the sudden silence accentuating the gravity of the situation.
His grip tightened on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening in tension and frustration. With a heavy exhale, he reached for his phone, the screen casting a bluish glow against his face as he engaged in the tense conversation.
"I highly recommend you cut him loose, Alvin. He is too hot to handle, thanks to his associates. In fact, say the word and I'll do it myself."
"That's not going to happen. It can't, following the agreement I reached with Drago."
"Then this is my resignation. You can be at Drago's beck and call if you want, but not me. I don't work for him."
Hiccup hung up before stepping out onto the pavement, the metallic click of the door locking echoed across the silent street he was standing in.
Leaning on the car door, the cold, smooth metal beneath his hand provided a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing within him. His movements caught the attention of a nearby police officer, whose footsteps on the asphalt resonated faintly, growing louder as he approached.
The officer's uniform rustled slightly with each step, the crisp sound of fabric rubbing together adding a sense of authority to his presence. "Are you the owner of the house, sir?" he inquired, his voice a steady yet empathetic tone amid the chaos.
Hiccup nodded, his gaze shifting from the officer to the charred remains. "Yes. What happened?"
The officer's breath expelled audibly in a sympathetic sigh, carrying the faint aroma of coffee. "Gas explosion, as far as we can tell. Do you have anywhere else to stay?"
The acrid scent of smoke still hung in the air, mingling with the officer's words as Hiccup processed the situation. "Yeah, I can talk to my godfather, or check into a hotel."
"Alright, sir. I'll leave you be then," the officer offered, turning to leave.
Hiccup's voice halted the officer in his tracks. "Wait," he called out, drawing the man's attention back. "Did you see any sign of a cat in there? I have a pet cat, and I'm wondering if he died in the explosion."
A sense of hope mingled with dread as Hiccup awaited the officer's response. The officer's brow furrowed slightly, conveying regret. "We found no dead cat, sir. Just a blackened bowl and burnt cat litter. I'm sorry."
Hiccup's shoulders sagged, the weight of loss settling in as he processed the information. "It's okay… I'll survive, eventually."
The officer's offer lingered in the air like a gentle breeze, offering a semblance of solace. "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Thanks," Hiccup replied softly, the tremor in his voice barely perceptible amidst the turmoil of emotions swirling within him. "I-I'll be going now. Got somewhere to be."
...
There was a casino on Berk called the Caledonian Casino. It was relatively new; open for business for less than a year.
Hiccup's car was in the car park directly across the street from the entrance of said casino, which consisted of a set of double doors made of glass framed by metal, guarded by two men.
Hiccup started counting in his head. One. Two. Three...
He reached twenty before one of the guards looked in his direction.
But then the other guard picked his nose, wiping his finger clean on his uniform
So, neither very observant nor disciplined it seems. No military training or former Police Scotland. Entirely civilian mindset. Or very, very new to this kind of job. Assuming the latter for now, I wonder if the owner has better stock inside...
Hiccup got out of his car at a relaxed pace and strolled over the casino, walking right up to the guard who had picked his nose. "Tell Drago I would like to arrange a meeting."
Confusion flickered across the guard's face. "Who is Drago? And who are you?"
"Apologies, I was thinking of someone I know. Can I talk to the owner? I would like to make a proposition to him." So Drago doesn't run the place, but he has someone doing it for him. Krogan? Or someone else...
The guard, uncertain but cooperative, inquired, "Mr...?"
Hiccup flashed a disarming smile. "Haddock. Please inform the owner that I'm waiting at the entrance."
So the nose-picker left, leaving Hiccup with the other guard, who now looked at him. "So, your uniform... are you a soldier or something?"
"Army captain."
"Okay... so did you go on tours or is that just for the lower ranks? I know there are two different ways to become an officer."
"I went on tour. I was promoted because they needed a replacement for someone who retired."
"Who?"
"Sorry, that's classified. I can't tell you."
The guard shrugged. "I get it. My boss doesn't want us telling our secrets either."
The conversation between Hiccup and the second guard died long before the first guard returned, but when the man emerged, his arrival was heralded by the door sliding open with a whirr. "The owner is waiting to meet you. This way."
Hiccup was led across the lobby, navigating between various machines and past a few tables where poker and similar games were taking place, to the far end of the building where an iron spiral staircase, painted black, stood waiting.
Hiccup hesitated briefly, his mind flickering with thoughts about his prosthetic leg. Thankfully, however, his escort seemed oblivious to his situation, allowing Hiccup to swiftly compose himself and never once looked back as they began to ascend the staircase. Reaching the top, Hiccup relaxed even more, finding himself and his travelling companion standing on a lush red carpet stretched across a wide open space. In front of him, and to either side, there was an expanse of wall, painted cream, the colour broken by a single mahogany door, with the dark shade giving sharp contrast to the wall that surrounded it.
The guard moved forward and knocked on the door while Hiccup stood silent as the grave.
The door creaked open, revealing a figure within the room. "You can go. I'll handle our guest," the figure declared, dismissing the guard who turned away, leaving Hiccup face-to-face with the enigmatic owner.
Hiccup watched the guard leave for a few moments to ensure the guard didn't overhear him. "Krogan, you better not have harmed any recently acquired black cats, or quite soon, a pen will be sticking out of your neck."
Krogan didn't say anything. Instead, he walked back into the room, crouched by the desk, then stood to reveal Toothless safe and sound.
"You should take better care of your pet. Leaving it in an exploding house? Not the best plan."
Hiccup stepped into the room and shut the door., then held out his arms. "Give him here."
...
"People usually call or send a letter to those they want to talk to. You decided, 'no, let's blow up his house, kill his father in the process and kidnap his pet cat, as if the former two things weren't enough. So, Krogan, you mind telling me why you and Drago and all of Drago's men, collectively have a death wish?"
Hiccup was now sitting in Krogan's office, Toothless cradled securely in his arms. Meanwhile, Krogan had his legs propped up on the table, on the edge closest to him, leaning back with his arms crossed behind his head.
"You know, you're really expressing your fondness for the cat. People could exploit that."
Hiccup's face showed no change. No pursing of lips or any kind of glare to express anger. Rather, he held Toothless just a little tighter. Almost imperceptibly so.
"Oh don't worry. You won't manage it a second time. If I was there, you never would have suceeded."
"Careful. I might just put it to the test. Try for killing the last Haddock as well as get the cat back from you in one piece."
Hiccup set Toothless down on the floor, but the feline refused to move from his side and instead sat beside his right leg, practically leaning on it, in true cat fashion.
"Do I hear fondness for my pet cat there? I didn't know you liked cats. Anyway, I suggest you don't taunt the abyss into staring into you, Krogan."
Krogan took his hands from behind his head and his feet off of the table. "And... you consider yourself the abyss, do you?"
"More or less. Best metaphor I can think of, at the moment."
Krogan rolled his eyes and stood. "Are we done here? Because I do have work to do."
"Getting rid of me so soon? I'm sure Drago would be happy you let a potential asset slip through your fingers."
Krogan sat back down. "A way into Drago's good books? Explain how my birthday came early for me."
"I'm, as of maybe twenty minutes ago, no longer affiliated with Alvin, thanks to Grimmel, but spurred on your sudden dislike of my house. In short, I can tell you and your boss how Alvin operates. Locations, number of personnel, even where he might be holed up. Emphasis on might. He'll likely have moved by now. All I ask in return is if you find Grimmel, you kill him."
Krogan stood again, but this time walked over to stand near the floor-to-ceiling window in the room and took out his phone. "I need to make a call," Krogan needlessly explained. "Where might Alvin be holed up in?"
...
Getting back to his car after his visit with Krogan, Hiccup carefully laid Toothless down in the passenger seat, in which the feline immediately curled up.
Hiccup climbed into the driver's seat and then plucked out his phone. He called Gobber, but he proved to be unavailable.
"Gobber, call me back as soon as you get this. It's incredibly urgent. I'm on the way to your bar at the time of this message, so I should see you soon anyway. Find Gustav as well. He should hear what I'm about to say too."
Ending the message, Hiccup made another call.
"Hello?"
"Mrs Hofferson, are you interested in information? Because I have some for you and your colleagues."
"Convienient timing, Mr Haddock. I have things to brief you on. Meet me at the heritage museum as soon as possible."
"Alright. I should be there in twenty minutes or so." With nothing more to add, he swiftly hung up and started his car.
His destination was Gobber's bar. He pulled up in front of it, seeing Gobber pause in the process of raising the metal shutter to allow access to the building, glancing at Hiccup before pushing it up the rest of the way.
Hiccup got out as Gobber headed inside. "Bad news Gobber: you should consider closing your bar again, and taking the day off."
Gobber emerged to stand in the doorway with arms crossed. "And why's that?"
"That's a question for the man behind the curtain. Said man is a fool, and as a result, you could get caught in the crosshairs. You and Gustav both."
"I'm going to need more than just words, Hiccup. You're asking me to stop working here."
"Then it's a good thing I've got more than words. Get in my car. Want to show you something."
A few minutes later, Hiccup got out of his car, followed after a pause by Gobber. "Where are we?"
Hiccup didn't answer immediately. Instead, he approached a certain Range Rover, which stood, still untouched from when Hiccup saw it earlier. "Three guesses as to whose car this is, Gobber."
"Stoick..." the man said, his voice almost a whisper.
"Yep," came Hiccup's reply, just as quiet.
Both men fell silent after that, but it was short-lived on Hiccup's part. "You see my house? My father's car? This is who the man behind the curtain is up against. What chance do you have? Swear you'll leave Berk for a bit. Or at least make it look that way. I want you alive to officiate at my wedding, because Thor knows we both need some happiness in our lives now."
Gobber stared at him. "Are you not happy with Astrid?"
"We're standing ten meters away from my dead father's car and you ask me that. You know damn well what I meant."
"Just had to be sure."
"Just had to- Gobber, she moved up our wedding date to a week from now, rather than five months like before. She moved in with me, without me asking. Trust me, if I was unhappy with Astrid, you'd know by now."
"So that's why you want me to officiate at your wedding. It all makes sense now. But promise me one thing."
"What?"
"When you get married, you leave Berk and take her with you. Find somewhere better to settle down. With your father dead, what's left for you here? And no, your job, colleagues, friends, or even little old me, don't count."
"That's not solely up to me, but I'll pass the suggestion along."
"I'm sure Astrid will come around, provided she gets to visit her family every so often. But enough about that. What do we do now?"
"I, am going to do something bold. You, we've already discussed."
"Discussed, sure. I've changed my mind. I'm going to do something bold too."
"Gobber-"
"Laddie, someone needs to keep an eye out for you. Might as well be me. This way, you can keep an eye on me."
"And who keeps an eye on Gustav?"
"I'll pay for his hotel room. Now, tell me about your plan. I want all the details.'
"Get in the car. I'll tell you on the way. You can hold Toothless in your lap again for me. But in short, we're going to meet with Mrs Hofferson."
Hiccup ignored Gobber's utterly bemused expression as he walked the short distance to his car and climbed into the driver's seat. "Are you coming or what?"
Gobber ambled over. "Hey, I'm not as fast as I was when I was your age."
"Were you ever as fast as I am?"
The older man chuckled. "I'll allow that one. Your next joke better not be low-hanging fruit."
Hiccup started the engine, a smile playing on his lips. "Oh, I promise nothing."