Team Effort

The crew stared at him silently as he finished his tale, his green eyes scanning shocked and astonished faces. He had left out a few details-his real name and family, mainly. But the tough crew slowly began to process his words, sharing glances and inspecting the lanky, lean shape before them with thoughtful expressions. Fury was leaning against the mast with Arild in his arms, exhausted and at their mercy.

"Dude-Astrid as in Lady Hofferson?" Tuff asked. Fury rolled his eyes.

"Er...yes," he said.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"The one who keeps hitting you?"

"Yes-that Lady Astrid Hofferson!" Fury sighed. Fishlegs frowned and paced back and forth.

"We knew it was revenge...but Gods, we never knew exactly how bad it had been," he admitted. Fury sighed.

"I've known you since I first came onto the Thor's Hammer," Fury sighed. "And you knew how miserable I was. How tough it was. I wouldn't have survived without you."

"But I wish to Odin you'd told me all this sooner, my friend," Fishlegs sighed and Fury offered him a wan smile.

"You know, you could have told us all sooner," Mulch reminded him. "Cap'n, we want to help." There was general nodding-even Jorgen who had been looking the most hostile. The pirate hugged the sleepy boy to his chest. Arild mumbled and gave a small smile, his head nuzzling against Fury's chest.

"I thought I could do it myself," he murmured. "I thought I had to do it myself. Until I realised that I have a son who needs me. I can't go round getting killed all the time..."

"No-that's our jobs!" Ruff grinned.

"Yeah-getting killed rocks!" Tuff added. Sven One frowned.

"Cap'n...you risked us all on your personal mission," he accused the man and Fury nodded, his head bowing. "But none of us would not want vengeance for what you went through. Tell us what you want and we will help."

"I-I..." Fury began and stopped. He blinked. Arild opened his eyes and smiled.

"'sokay, Dad," he mumbled.

"You know, we all feel like Arild is ours, Cap'n," Mulch added. "We know he is yours but we all feel like Uncles."

"Hey!"

"And Aunt!"

"But we can't do this again," Fishlegs said. "We almost got killed, Fury. No matter how good the twins are, we don't have the guns to take on that many ships at close quarters. And even the darkness only gave a little edge. We thought we'd lost you. Your son thought he'd lost you..." Fury closed his eyes in shame and the big First Mate grasped his shoulder.

"I thought I'd lost him," he admitted. "I can't do that again. I need a better plan. Because I am so close..."

"You know they'll be even more protected now?" Fishlegs asked him. He nodded resignedly.

"And that ass Eret was there, trying to kill me," he added. "Apparently, he didn't appreciate the lesson we gave him in how pirates deal with mutineers..." He gave a thin smile. "He didn't realise what we normally do is run the bastards through and pitch them into the water for the sharks!"

"We all thought you were being too lenient on the General...when he tried to kill you again-and Arild!" Jorge added.

"Yeah, we don't like people who threaten our little Toothless!" Ruff announced.

"He'll be there, thinking we've given up..." Fury said feeling the boy snuggle hard against him and paused, his eyes narrowing. "Because we don't attack them at sea..."

"What? We're pirates!" Halvard protested.

"Which doesn't just involve shouting 'yo-ho!' and quaffing mead!" Fury replied sarcastically. "Pirates attack at sea and on land. They raid and steal. And destroy."

"You're still Hel-bent on this, Captain?" Sven clarified. Fury nodded.

"Jorgensen did me the most harm...and I intend to sink his fleet," he said grimly. "Four to go..." And then he gave a little smile, "And the next attack may be more profitable," The Svens and Jorgen all cheered up visibly while Fishlegs watched him closely. He knew his Captain was a very clever man...for all he was scrawny and lean. And he had shown extraordinary courage when had revealed his secret to his crew. The First Mate knew that he had withheld some things from the tale, some things that were still too personal to share. But Fishlegs and the others were grateful he had trusted them with his deepest secret.

And in truth, they all felt their sympathies swell at the trials their Captain had faced. And they had realised, as he had spoken, that Fury was younger than they had guessed and he had been through a worse time than any of them. He was a good Captain...and they all unanimously voted to help him. And they wanted to protect Arild in the process...from Fury's recklessness as much as the enemy. Though Fishlegs was sure the man was wracked by enormous guilt for endangering the lad. And there was not one single member of the crew who doubted his affection for the boy when they saw him with Arild.

Fury gave a small smile and lifted Arild's chin, staring into his eyes. "D'you wanna help me, bud?" he asked softly. The boy's eyes widened and he gave a gappy smile, nodding eagerly.

"Of course, Dad!" he said happily. "What do you want me to do?" Fury grinned.

"I need you and the crew to help me steal everything they have..." he said, his eyes bright with excitement. "Gather round. I have a plan..."

oOo

The Jorgensen convoy reached the main port of Meathead ahead of schedule, their three escorts mooring in the harbour while the two ships- the Alva and the Pride of Berk-had docked and were being unloaded at top speed. Both were carrying expensive cargos: wool, mead and weapons. The Captains diligently negotiated, completed the paperwork and closed the deals. And once they had done their business, they headed out with their crew for some shore leave.

The scruffy father and son walked easily through the port, eyes trailing lazily over the moored vessels and noting Berkian, Lavalout, Meathead and Berserker colours on the masts. The tall lean man inclined his auburn head and narrowed green eyes while his son dragged on his arm and whined. "Dad-can we see the boats?" he begged. The man smiled at his eagerness and tightened his grip on his hand.

"Okay, bud," he murmured as the boy hauled him forward. Arild was thoroughly excited, his bright green eyes sweeping the ships. They walked slowly along the waterfront until they reached the Jorgensen vessels, when the father ever so slightly eased his grip on the boy, allowing him to slip free and race up the gangplank onto the nearest vessel. "COME BACK!" the man called and trotted after him.

Arild was running over the deck, looking excited. "Dad! Have you seen this?" he asked, small hands exploring the carelessly stacked empty chests and sacks and scrambling up the stairs to play at the wheel.

"Get away from that, brat!" a voice bellowed and Arild started, hearing the anger. His smile slipped and he backed away from the bulky, angry-looking crewman who advanced rapidly on him. He scooted anxiously back to his father, the man straightening up and holding the boy securely against his legs. "And you-this isn't a public walkway! Learn to control your brat!" The father anxiously looked up, his green gaze apologetic.

"I-I'm sorry. He meant no harm," he said quietly, backing away as the man advanced. The guard knocked him to the ground without hesitation, aiming a kick at the boy. The father scrambled in the way, taking the impact as he wrapped himself round his son.

"Get off my ship, worm!" the crewman snarled, kicking again. There was a thud and the father groaned, then painfully staggered to his feet. A second crewman punched him and he stumbled back, the boy protected in his arms. The two crewmen shared a nasty smile and grabbed him roughly, then bodily threw him from the ship. His lean shape slammed to the dock, still curled around his boy. "And STAY OFF!"

"Hey-you need help?" The cry echoed from the sister-ship and two more very buff crewmen came onto the gangplank. The auburn head lifted, emerald eyes scanning the threat. He was breathing hard.

"Nah-just some rancid little rat and his scabby brat thought they'd do some sightseeing on the Pride. I've just given him a kicking to remind him his place!" The crewmen closed and the father swiftly raised a hand.

"Please...I'm sorry," he gasped, earning another kick. Finally, the crew turned away from the bowed shape, still on his knees, protecting his trembling boy. It was only when they had gone that he lifted his face, briefly turning to check Arild was safe. "You okay, little bud?" The boy nodded, his eyes shining in worry. He hated seeing his Dad hurt.

"Are you okay, Dad?" he asked worriedly.

"Exactly what I was expecting," he admitted and stroked the boy's cheek. "You were great, bud." The boy managed a watery smile.

"Did you see what you wanted, Dad?" he asked as Fury achingly rose to his feet. He gave a smile.

"Everything I needed," he said as he led his son away, his hand clamped round the boy's. "Say, I saw a roast boar stall back up in the town. I think you've earned a sandwich.' The boy grinned as they weaved their way back up to the town and the rest of the crew.

oOo

"Two men in both?" Fishlegs asked. Fury nodded, sipping his ale as Arild munched his way through a huge roast boar batch.

"Big buggers," he muttered. "And not afraid to use force."

"Do you think they'll buy the inspection?" Sven asked shortly. Fury nodded and gave a lopsided smirk.

"Big but not bright," he confirmed. "Remember-confidence, confidence, confidence. You believe what you're saying and they will too." Tuff stared at him and paused.

"You sure you don't wanna do this, dude?" he asked softly, his tone unfamiliar: he sounded concerned. Fury nodded.

"They've seen me," he sighed. Tuff and Fishlegs shared a look and the First Mate put a brown hairy object on the table. Fury frowned and Arild reached out and stroked it curiously.

"It's scratchy," he said with a frown.

"It's a beard," Tuff said unhelpfully. "The guys all put some in...whatever they could spare...if you get my meaning..." Fury's eyes widened in shock and mild horror: this was a fake beard made from whatever hair the crew could volunteer? He looked around them and read the optimism and pride in their eyes: they had made this in secret for him? He forced a smile onto his face and picked the thing up. He was going to have to wear it. He just wished he could have washed it first.

"But..." he began and then Ruff tapped his arm.

"I'll look after little Toothless," she said, earning a scowl from the boy. Fury raised an eyebrow.

"Who are you and what have you done with Ruffnut Thorsten?" he asked half-joking. She huffed.

"Look, much as I am a pirate and gunner and helmsman and proud of all of those, no one here is going to believe a woman is part of any official party. So I'll look after your son and you look after my lunatic bother. Deal?" she said in a sharp voice. He gave an apologetic smile and offered her his hand. She spat on her palm then he wearily withdrew his hand, mirrored the action and then shook.

"Deal," he agreed. Then he turned to the rest of the crew. "Now, let's do this!"

oOo

The two crewmen guarding the Pride of Berk were bored out of their minds and hugely resentful that they had missed out on shore leave to the friendly and very well-stocked taverns of Meathead Island. The only bright spot had been the change to give the young father and his kid a kicking but even that had been far too brief and so, despite the injunctions their Captains had laid on them, they had been illicitly enjoying a few meads. As a result, they were well off their guards when two delegations approached the ships , one group boldly boarding each. The guards jerked themselves to their feet and frowned, moving to intercept the boarders.

"What d'you think you're doing?" the guards on the Alva growled. Tuffnut waved a piece of paper furiously under their noses, moving ceaselessly.

"Customs inspection!" he snapped. "Did you think you could just swan in here and dump a load of substandard Berkian tat on the good people of Meathead? There are laws and regulations to prevent this kind of abuse!"

"Hey-what are you calling tat?" the first guard protested.

"Then show me the manifests, the ship's log and the bills of lading right now!" Tuff snapped.

"You need to wait until our Captain returns..." the second protested in a growl but Sven Two stepped forward, inspecting a large ledger and shook his head.

"No, the inspection is now," he said sternly. "D'you think we were born yesterday? We step off this boat and suddenly a load of duty receipts miraculously 'appear'? Suddenly you pen a sheath of quality guarantees? We've been watching these ships for a while and we've had complaints all over about your merchandise. So we inspect now or the Port Master will confiscate the vessels and Jorgensen Shipping can argue it through the Governor of our island in court!"

The guards shared an alarmed look. There were only two of them so they didn't have enough people to send a runner for the Captain and they had been ordered to protect the ship. Letting it get confiscated really didn't seem to be a good way of doing this. "Um...the Captain's cabin is this way..." the second said warily. Tuff glanced over his shoulder.

"Sven, Slim-you're with me," he said, nodding to Sven and a man dressed in a patched padded grey tunic with a cap and a bushy brown beard. Fury nodded, keeping his eyes fixed on his ledger. The guards on the Alva hadn't gotten such a close look at him and he was very much a supporting player in this scam. "You others-check the hold for contraband and evidence of their perfidy!" The guards looked shocked and they muttered between them. Then both went down with the hold crew, leaving Tuff, Sven and Fury to amble to the cabin. The Captain glanced over to the other ship and saw exactly the same was happening, leaving Fishlegs, Mulch and Halvard free rein in the Captain's cabin.

As soon as they were in, Fury took over, directing Sven and Tuff to find and open the strongbox while he grabbed the ledgers, the itineraries, the freight logs and the bills of lading. With a smirk, he bundled them into his 'ledger' which was merely an empty leather cover. Sven and Tuff grunted and finally forced the strongbox open...and smiled.

"Dude-you gotta see this!" Tuff said in an awed voice. Fury glanced over...and saw the box filled to the brim with gold coins. His eyes widened and he froze.

"Thor..." he breathed and then pulled himself together. "Okay-you know the plan. Take the money and replace it with our gift..." He pulled up the padded tunic and Sven and Tuff unstrapped the packets of explosive he had smuggled on board. Swiftly, they emptied the strongbox and packed it with explosives, then sprinkled a layer of gold coins over the bomb. Tuff checked the fuse and glanced up as Sven and Fury packed their satchels and pockets with the loot. Tuff took his share and sighed.

"Seems such a waste," he muttered as he stared at the coins over the bombs as Fury peered round the door. The others had returned and Jorgen threw a mock salute at the crewmen-the signal they had accomplished their task. Fury turned to Tuff and the male twin lit the fuse then gently closed the strongbox. As the guards headed for the cabin, the three men emerged, frowning and sharing glances.

"There's going to be a heavy duty to pay," Tuff told them grimly. "We have evidence of widespread evasion of Port taxes and excise payments..."

"Oh yeah?" the first guard growled. Sven gave a nasty grin.

"Yeah!" he threw back at them. "We will come back to see your Captain about the payment...unless you have the money now...?" His cocky smirk, asking for a bribe, had the desired effect.

"GET OFF OUR SHIP!" the guard roared and the 'customs team' gave a shrug and turned to the gangplank.

"Shame," Tuff commented. "We would have taken less...but now we're gonna have to ask your Captain for the whole amount!" Then he strode away with the rest of the team following. Fishlegs's team was already on the dock talking amongst themselves. Fury nodded and they headed back towards the town, chatting between themselves as if comparing notes.

"All the charges laid?" the Captain asked them. Fishlegs flipped a page in his ledger.

"Bjarne and Sven One managed to get three into the hold at the critical points," he murmured. "And do you know how much we got from the strongbox?" Fury leaned closer, as if inspecting the tally.

"Probably as much as we did," he said with a smirk. He stared at Fishlegs from over his horrible fake beard. It was really itchy. "Let's get outta here, Fish. Things are gonna get more interesting around here very soon." He strode off, the rest trailing after him as they clambered up the slope and stood on the rise overlooking the bowl of the harbour, the two Jorgensen ships moored with their three escorts protectively stationed beyond them to prevent any attacks by pirates. Ruff grinned and head-butted her brother: both staggered back with dazed grins. Arild ran up to his father and peered up.

"Dad," he said thoughtfully. "Beard doesn't suit you."

"Oh, thank Thor," Fury sighed and pulled the wretched thing off, stuffing it into his bulging satchel. Then he crouched down and lifted the boy up so he could see the ships. "Okay, buddy? Let's see what happens...and what happens when you annoy Captain Fury and his little dragon!" Arild grinned and they turned to the ships.

It almost happened in slow motion. The Pride of Berk went first, an explosion blossoming at her prow, a second at her stern and the third below the waterline. The guards lurched and ran for the gangplank as the ship began to list and break apart. And then the Captain's cabin exploded ferociously, sending shockwaves ripping through the vessel. The stern split apart and the vessel sagged, water rushing into the hold and taking the ship down. The guards on the Alva shared a look of horror as their ship was also rocked by the huge explosions. Their deck exploded up in a shower of splintered wood and the mast toppled, crashing down on the prow and shattering it. Finally, the strongbox bomb blasted the stern apart and the Alva joined her sister under the waves, the remains of the mast and wreckage all that marked her mooring.

The twins were whooping in triumph, Fishlegs clapped Mulch across the shoulder and Sven and Jorgen high-fived. Arild gave a small grin. "That'll teach them to hurt my Dad," he said grimly. Fury sighed and nuzzled the boy.

"Generally speaking, son, taking bloody vengeance is a very bad thing," he sighed. "It will only get you in trouble."

"But you're doing it," Arild protested with completely childish logic. Fury stared back at the chaos. The crews had sprinted drunkenly down to the docks and were arguing, trying to see if they could salvage anything and had started to fight amongst themselves.

"And I'm a very bad man," he admitted. "Even so, I'm almost done. Once I get those last two ships, I'm leaving the Archipelago. We'll go somewhere else and start a new life, away from the people who hurt me and the pirates who really don't like me and that bastard Drago and his his war. You shouldn't ever think this is normal or right, bud. It's not. It's cruel and destructive and won't make up for everything they did to me. But...I have to do it." His voice had dropped, he couldn't meet his son's eye and his expression was a mixture of anger and shame. The boy nodded, still not really understanding. "C'mon-let's get back to the ship before those idiots manage to describe the 'customs team' and someone puts two and two together..."

"Yeah-and we have loot to count and divvy out!" Sven One reminded him. Fishlegs nodded and the gang headed calmly out of town and away to the little bay where they had left their ship. Arild hugged his Dad.

"Two left," he murmured. "Then we can be a proper family."

oOo

"Of all the incompetent, yak-brained, drunken..." Magne Jorgensen was almost beyond words, his face puce, eyes bulging and spittle praying with ever furious word. He had already wrecked his office, punched out and fired Lars and laid charges against the returned crews for aiding and abetting piracy. The Captains had protested but Magne was vengeful and cold: he wanted them to suffer. Because he was on the brink.

He stared through the window down to the harbour, to the two remaining ships at his command. The Hookfang and the Loki's Staff were all that was left of his once-proud fleet. And he would give both of them now to have Fury in his grasp, the watch the man scream and plead and beg for his life as Magne and his allies slowly broken him piece by piece until there was only the wrecked shell left...

The door opened and heavy steps sounded. He turned-and his eyes widened at the huge shape standing before him, the grey-green eyes glittering and fists on hips. He ignored the second shape as a matter of course.

"Uncle," he greeted. Stoick inclined his head and took a seat. Snotlout stood at his side and folded his arms: he was used to being ignored by his little brother, even when he asked about the family business he co-owned. He could tell Magne was under stress, his face tight and skin beaded with sweat. Secretly, he felt a twinge of satisfaction, knowing what his brother had done.

"I heard of your losses," the Governor said gruffly. "And I am being pressed by other parties-traders, other owners, General Eretson-that this problem needs to be resolved. It seems that your misfortunes and my own...recent experiences warrant resolution." Magne gave him a scornful look.

"Great. So I have to lose almost everything before you decide to intervene...Uncle?" he scoffed. Snotlout narrowed his eyes. He had subtly counselled against using the Navy for Magne's protection but he knew his father had been bending the Governor's ear to support the shipping business. He knew this wouldn't augur well for Hiccup but it seemed that his Uncle had made his mind up. Stoick folded his arms.

"No, I have just calculated the cumulative effect on Berkian commerce of the attacks," he said grimly. "You got your wish, Magne. We'll send the Berk Navy. And we won't stop until we have Fury!"