18: Get Fury
Get Fury
Astrid took the opportunity of Eret's absence to take her axe to the forge in Berkisport for sharpening. Her husband didn't know she still had her mother's ancestral axe which she practiced with every day. She never used the range, instead going to the nearby forest to train and maintain her skills for the day when she would need to use the weapon against Eret. She was aware the man had been hiring new men for the establishment and had surrounded himself with staff loyal to him, not to House Hofferson. She was starting to feel uncomfortably like an outsider and prisoner in her own home.
The forge was traditional, maintained by the blacksmith, a crazy House Haddock adherent named Gobber the Belch. He had been friends with Governor Stoick since the two were boys but Gobber had served loyally in Berk's forces against pirates and raiders and had given his left hand and right leg in the service of the island. But despite being down two limbs, Gobber was acknowledged as the finest blacksmith in the Archipelago and the only person who Astrid would trust with her axe. Well...once, she would have gone to Hiccup in preference, since her friend had been Gobber's apprentice since he was about seven and it had presented the easiest way to visit him and get to know the young Haddock heir. It had in fact been the way the two had forged their friendship...the friendship that had cost the boy his life.
She blinked. Gobber had been Hiccup's mentor and the boy had idolised him. Yet she had heard the man had loudly and brutally rejected the starving boy when he had sought refuge and help in the forge. The reports she had heard-which made her cringe-told that he had literally thrown the boy from the forge, had struck him as he had pleaded for help and viciously spurned him. Gobber had chosen his friend over his apprentice, rejecting the boy as a traitor and a fool. And he had turned his back on Hiccup when he had needed him most.
The older man looked up, his blue eyes twinkling as he registered the identity of the customer. "Lady Astrid," he greeted her cheerily, waving at her with his prosthetic left hand-a hammer. She forced a smile onto her face: she was feeling more and more guilty with time at Hiccup's fate, her feelings stirred by that damned pirate. And though she blamed Gobber for his treatment of the boy who loved him like a surrogate son, she had no grounds to feel superior because she had rejected him just as cruelly. "How's married life treatin' yer?" She gave a wan smile.
"Better now my husband is out hunting the pirate," she admitted.
"Not ter yer likin' then," he surmised, taking her axe and eyeing the edge. "What've ye been chopping. Rocks?"
"Practicing for Eret," she quipped. "I maintain my practice because one day I may need it. But at least he's at sea..."
"They're all back, actually," Gobber told her mildly as he took the axe and began to sharpen the edge. "And this time, they're going with the Navy. I gather Stoick has decided the pirate is enough of a problem to justify using our Navy to hunt him down." Astrid scowled.
"Son of a half-troll," she muttered. "That bastard is cheating..."
"What was that, lassie?" the blacksmith asked her, checking the edge. She shook her head.
"So my husband will be at sea again?" she checked. Gobber nodded, satisfied with the results and giving the blade a swift polish.
"Until the pirate is caught," he confirmed and she smiled and paid the fee. "See yer soon, lass." She nodded absently and headed for the Hofferson townhouse. She would need to remain in the town while Eret was at sea-away from the treacherous spying eyes of his retainers and close enough to hear any news of the pirate. Her grip on the axe tightened: her fate was bound to the pirate and if he was lost, so was she...
oOo
It had been almost two weeks and no sign of the remaining two Jorgensen ships. Fury and the crew had raided a couple of trader vessels to keep the crew from getting bored but the Captain was getting very frustrated that Magne was hiding rather than facing up to his problems. But, of course, Fury knew he had time on his side. Magne had commitments, debts and creditors, all of which would grow more impatient and pressing with time. And every day the ships remained in port, the pressure on Magne grew more and more intense. He would have to flinch first...and all Fury had to do was wait...
He was sitting in his cabin, flicking through his papers and ledgers, through every word that he had stolen from Magne so that he could try to predict the man's next move. Arild was on the deck, learning knife-play slowly with Ruff and Tuff and Fury ran his fingers through his messy auburn hair. Of course, he knew basically what Magne would do: the vindictive man would do his best to trap Fury, capture him and then torment him horribly. But he wasn't even sure how Magne could achieve this. The failure to sail for the last two weeks rendered data of every route and planned delivery he had garnered useless. What was Magne waiting for?
He rose and paced back and forth, then saw his satchel. He grabbed it and emptied it onto the bed, eyeing the Jorgensen Princess's log...and a soft leather pouch of coins that he had snatched from the ship before she went down, almost taking him with it. He poked the little pouch disinterestedly and sighed, tossing it onto the desk. Stiffly, he cracked his neck and settled into the chair, beginning to scan the log once more.
His head was aching when Fishlegs let himself in, carrying a pitcher of ale and two earthenware mugs. The First Mate hauled up the second chair and sat across from his friend, sloshing the liquid into the mugs and pressing one into Fury's hand. The man gave a relieved sigh.
"Thanks," the pirate admitted softly. Fishlegs stared at him. Fury was looking pale and gaunt, focussing too much on his plans and not enough on himself.
"Can I say this as your friend? You look like warmed over yak dung!" Fish told him quietly. Fury raised an eyebrow and his mouth tilted in a sarcastic smile.
"Gee, thanks. Way to make me feel good," he replied dryly and Fish gave a small bow.
"You only have to ask," he riposted then sipped his ale. "But you need to get out of here," he repeated, his tone serious. "You're looking like a ghost. Arild scarcely sees you. And the crew are getting worried again." Fury pressed his face into his hands and sighed.
"Nothing to worry about this time," he sighed. "I'm not about to kill us all. I just want this finished-then I can let it go."
"So you meant it? That you'll go away and leave the Night Fury? That you'll take Arild away to a new life outside the Archipelago?" Fury nodded.
"I wasn't born a pirate or even a sailor," he reminded the husky man. "I can adapt to a landlubber life very easily."
"Doing what?" Fish asked him pointedly. "Not much call for ex-pirates in most settlements."
"More for blacksmiths or scholars," Fury told him calmly. "I am well-educated-to University level in Natural Sciences and Literature. I am a qualified blacksmith, having trained a full seven year apprenticeship with our own blacksmith on Berk. I can navigate. I can pilot. And I will work my hands to the bone if it means that boy doesn't have to face another day of hunger or fear in his life."
"Every day you remain as a pirate is a day he lives in fear of what will happen to you," Fish reminded him.
"So when I go, I go for good," Fury told him. "Captain Fury will die. I'll adopt a new name...or maybe an old one. But I won't be the pirate everyone seeks. I'll be his father...for as long as he needs me."
"And you-what about you?" Fish asked him calculatingly. "Don't you have anything you want?" Fury flinched.
"You may have noticed, I have trust issues with women," he admitted. "I didn't treat Heather well because of that-and now she and her Deranged brother are on our tail. I never loved her...and I'm not sure I can ever trust a woman not to betray me again. Gods, Fish...is that how my life will be? Never able to have...a wife, a family, a proper home because of what they did to me?" He stared at his mug. "How much more penance do I have to do for falling in love with a girl who says she never really loved me? Is this going to haunt me to my death?" Fishlegs sighed.
"One day, you'll find the right girl," he assured his Captain.
"I already did," Fury whispered, "but she ripped out my heart." Fish stared at him.
"Do you have enough saved?" he asked. Fury nodded.
"I may not always take my cut, my friend, but I am not without a generous hoard," he admitted. "Some is stashed here but most...is in a secret place where it won't be found. It will keep me comfortable for the rest of my life." He frowned and grasped the pouch. "I almost forgot: this was from the Jorgensen Princess. It kinda got forgotten when I returned..."
"After we all thought you were lost," Fish reminded him, unlacing the pouch and pouring the small cold coins into his hand. And then he frowned and poured them onto the Captain's desk. "I've never seen anything like these before..." he murmured. Fury lifted one, peered at the symbol, then dropped it as if scalded, his hand slapping protectively to his chest. His green eyes were wide with sudden fear.
"I have..." he breathed. "Odin..."
The coins were marked with the 'crowned dragon' symbol of the Bewilderbeast. It was the mark of Drago Bludvist. Fishlegs stared at him in shock, reading the terror and pain in his gaze. His blue eyes focussed and he recognised the symbol as well.
"What did they do to you on that ship?" he asked. Fury closed his eyes.
"What are Drago's coins doing on a Jorgensen ship?" he replied, parrying the question. Fish sighed.
"Number of possible options...but it's probably because he's a treacherous little bastard," he suggested. "Halvard and Jorgen came back. The talk in Berkisport is that Berk Navy are going looking for you towards Dragon Island. They presume you will be patrolling the usual Jorgensen routes. Magne will be sending his ships via the seasick maze towards Outcast Island and through their waters to the Mainland."
"It's brilliant," Fury said slowly. "Lots of places for ambushes-for both sides. He could hide an entire Navy there to catch us...and that channel is far better known by the Outcasts than us." He gave a small smile.
"You're not giving in, are you?" Fishlegs asked. Fury sighed.
"My head tells me to go and wait for them in that port and pick them off when they arrive since they will have to be in open sea at that point," he admitted. "But the bait is them unprotected in the maze. Is us vulnerable in the maze."
"And your heart?"
"Says kill every last ship and bring him to his knees," Fury said coldly. "But in doing that, I'll get us all killed. This is a trap."
"The crew will want to go for it," Fish told him. "They already know-Halvard already told them what we learned. They're getting mighty edgy, just hanging around, waiting to be found by his privateers."
"Since when was this ship run by committee?" Fury snapped.
"Since you asked us to work with you as a team!" his First Mate growled back. "They have taken on your vengeance and the risks to help you, Captain because they trust you! You are their Captain and they have give you their loyalty! You owe them this..." Fury sighed and ran his fingers tiredly through his hair once more.
"It's a mistake, Fish," he sighed. He was very tired, so desperately weary and he no longer had the energy to argue "But if they all insist...then I will go. But when it all goes to Hel, you have to promise to abandon ship on my mark. You have to go-and take my son with you. Leave me to face my fate!"
"I could never leave you, Hiccup," Fishlegs told him suddenly, his rare use of the Captain's real name emphasising his sincerity. "You know what I swore..." Fury rose to his feet, snatched a soft leather pouch from under his pillow and pressed it into the other man's large hand.
"Then swear now to protect my son!" he snarled, his eyes chunks of green ice. "This is enough to keep him comfortable until he is an adult. I trust you, Fish. I trust you with my most precious treasure. And in return, I will walk into this trap because the crew wishes it." Fishlegs stared at him.
"Are you sure?" he breathed, shaken by the man's total conviction. Fury nodded.
"Certain, my friend," he sighed. "But you are right: they have every right to demand this of me. Somehow, this will have to work..." And then he paused and his brow furrowed a little. "Fish...get the prototypes ready. If they want a dirty fight-by Thor, we'll give them one!"
oOo
The Loki's Staff was slaloming slowly through the Outcast seasick maze, the Hookfang a hundred yards ahead, carefully navigating the channel. Her Outcast escorts were a long way back, their effectiveness diluted by the narrowness of the passage. Fury peered through his spyglass at the prow of the Night Fury, concealed between two seasacks in the safe, deep but narrow passage they had used to escape the first time they had been here. He lowered the device and stared for a long moment. Clad in his armour, a sword and pistol on each hip and his scarf obscuring his face, he looked every inch the pirate. He turned back to his crew.
"No signs of the Navy," he said sternly.
"Maybe they're not here, dude," Tuff suggested.
"They're here-and all his privateers," Fury said definitely. "Those are his last two ships. he'll have literally everything he has protecting them. We need a distraction..." He turned to Jorgen and Fishlegs. "It's time to see if those prototypes work." The men eased down the ladder on the side of the hull and lowered two of the floating shot that Fury had built, lighting the internal fuses and pushing them into the current, heading for the Jorgensen ships gliding through the channel. The grey metal shapes were almost invisible in the shifting greyish waters of the overcast day. Fury tensed, leaning forward, his hands gripping the rail until his knuckles went white.
"You know the signal," he called. "Attack on my mark."
The metal discs floated closer and closer. The Hookfang glided past, her bow wave sending the devices spinning and bobbing wildly. Fury held his breath, wondering of they would collide and destroy each other...but they floated apart and into the path of the Loki's Staff. The metal discs spun, bobbed...and impacted.
The Loki's Staff was wrenched sideways by two enormous explosions that blew holes half a dozen feet wide on her hull, allowing the water to pour in. The ship dived forward, her deck tilting as she gracefully and almost immediately sank.
"NOW!" Fury shouted and the pirates unfurled the black sails. The ship immediately leapt forward, the guns lining up on the remaining ship and firing. They punched holes in her sails and shot the figurehead off.
"TEN POINTS!" Tuff whooped. Fury snapped his head round, his instincts telling him it wouldn't be that easy. And then he saw the Outcast ships heading for them from one direction-and the Berk Navy from the other.
"Oh gods," he breathed. "Bjarne-get us the Hel out of here!"
"But Captain..." Halvard protested. Fury turned on him, his eyes arctic.
"Did I not just give an order?" he snarled. "I thought I was the suicidal one! If we stay in a crossfire, we are matchwood! Now get us outta here!" The ship swung round in a tight arc, the hull scraping hideously on the hidden rocks edging the channel. Fury shouted at the twins and they fired furiously but cannon raked the Night Fury and the crunch of splintering wood sounded overhead. Fury snapped his head up and saw the yard snap and tumble, ripping away most of the mainmast sails. The pirate ship leaned as she turned, her speed slowing as she slid between the seastacks...but Fury stared ahead of them, hearing the thud of cannon around-and ahead. He peered at the open sea...to see Berk Naval vessels closing the gap.
"Captain..." Fishlegs gasped and saw Fury breathing hard, his hands fisted. He watched the man hang his head for a telling moment.
"Get to the boats!" he commanded. "Take my son and get away. It's me they want, Fish!"
"I think they want us all," the First Mate told him but he shook his head.
"Magne wants Captain Fury," he said. "You can go through the channels they can't in their ships and lose them among the seastacks. There should be small islands you can shelter on. I'll divert them. Once they have me, they won't bother with you."
"Fury..."
"GO!" he shouted. "Gods damn it, Fishlegs! I gave an order-and you made me a promise! Get to the boats!" He turned to his crew. "I promised when this went to Hel, I would take the rap. It's okay. They'll want me alive...and I want my day in court. It's okay..."
"Dad! No!" Arild ran forward, his eyes terrified. "Dad...I want to stay with you..." Fury grabbed the boy and swept him into his arms, staring into the desperate face. The man pulled his scarf down and kissed the boy on the forehead.
"Son...I promised I would look after you," he whispered. "And the only way I can do that now is to get you to safety. Please bud, do this for me."
"D-dad...I don't want to go," he whispered.
"I love you, son..." he said and kissed the boy again, then handed him to Ruff. "Go," he mouthed as she carried the struggling boy away. He heard the thuds of cannon again and swiftly loaded their four cannons, then lined the first up and fired straight at their closest pursuer. The shot slammed into the main deck and he heard screams. He gave a grim smile, checked the wheel, then watched as the first boat slid away, the oars dipping in and out of the water. "Goodbye, son," he murmured.
Ruff turned to help her brother push the second boat away as she heard the cannon shot. She smiled: the Captain was keeping his promise. Now she would keep hers...but as she turned, she saw the small shape swarming up the ladder, a foot slipping but not stopping the boy. She cast an agonised glance but Halvard, who was at the back, leapt for the ladder.
"I'll get him," he said, nodding to her. "Get away, Ruff! We'll find another way off!"
Fury was lining up the cannons and ensuring all the muskets were loaded and ready to fire, his eyes sweeping the ships ahead of him. One was definitely a privateer with the unmistakeable shapes of Magne and Eret on the deck. He swung a cannon round and fired at them, holing the mainsail and causing them to duck. He was reaching for the next cannon when he heard Arild scream a warning:
"Dad! Behind you!"
Instincts kicked in and he ducked, a sword missing his head by a whisker. He staggered back-to see Halvard lining up to behead him on the backswing. He scrambled his swords out and blocked the next attack, being driven back and off-balance. He braced himself and shoved the bigger man back.
"How did they get to you?" Fury asked him breathlessly. Halvard gave a short laugh.
"When we sent scouting in Berkisport, I went for a walk...and found your friend..." he scoffed. Fury felt his face pale and his blood turn cold. Halvard was working for Magne? He had fed them the intelligence...which had manoeuvred them into the deadly trap. His grips tightened on his swords.
"How much?" Fury growled. "I want to know what it cost to betray us all?" Halvard gave a scornful smile.
"A free pardon, a ship of my own...and a chest of gold," he sneered. "I'm not a greedy man..." Fury attacked him them, his swords clanging off Halvard's cutlass and driving him back. "You know, they want you alive, Fury. I hear they have some very inventive tortures planned for you..."
"They're gonna be disappointed," Fury said tonelessly, his eyes locking on Halvard's. The traitor blocked the strokes pounding at his body with difficulty. He had lost the element of surprise and though Fury was lean and lanky, he was a matchless swordsman. The crew knew that he was predominantly left-handed-but with the sword, Fury was ambidextrous and could fight like a dremon with both hands. His memory slid back to those moments on Drago's ship after Arild had fallen...and the carnage the pirate had wreaked in his rage. The same rage facing him now. Halvard backed away, looking for the boy: if he had Arild, he had the upper hand. But as he half-turned, Fury slashed his hand with one sword and the other impaled him, the blade sliding easily through his heart. The Captain stared coldly into the other man's shocked eyes as the light faded-and then he tipped the man from his blade.
Cannon impacted on the sails and the second yard came down, the black sails being punched to pieces. While Halvard had distracted him, they had been surrounded. He checked the remaining cannons and fired them at the ships surrounding him, but they were too close to drive them away. So he grabbed the loaded muskets and fired, one after another, men dead or badly wounded slumping at his accurate aim. Magne's privateer was closing to boarding range and the pirate could see the men preparing to board the Night Fury. His heart accelerated and his breathing suddenly became difficult: there was no way he could escape now.
"Dad!" His head snapped round and he saw the boy running to his side: he felt his heart plummet to his boots and he closed his eyes.
"Son...you have to hide," he murmured sadly. "Gods, I wanted you to be safe, Arild. I wanted you away from this. Because they may treat you badly if you are with me." And they WILL treat me badly, son. I didn't want you to watch...
"D-dad...I will die if I l-lose you," the boy whimpered, looking scared. "If anything happens, I want to be here. I don't want to be anywhere else." Fury briefly dropped to one knee and hugged the boy.
"Bud...stay back," he begged the boy, feeling those thin arms tighten around his neck. "When they capture me, don't fight. Please...don't fight." Slowly, the boy nodded, hearing the sorrow in his father's voice.
"I promise," he whispered as his father broke away, drawing his pistols and standing forward as the gangplank slammed down.
"You're boarding me?" he asked ironically, watching as Eret ran across, accompanied by two of Savage's men. Without hesitation, Fury shot both dead, tossing his spent pistols aside and grabbing his sword, launching towards the General. Eret's face was scarlet with rage as he ran forward. Fury rolled his eyes, ducked under a wild swipe and slammed his fist hard across the man's jaw, knocking him out cold. He stood back as more men boiled onto the deck, swords raised and his eyes glazed at the sight, the fire fading to artic rage.
"Come on," he growled. "You want Fury? Come and get him!" And with that, he attacked, swords swinging round in deadly arcs, parrying and slashing. Each movement was measured as the men attacking found out that he was a deadly foe. Man after man fell, blood smearing the deck as he kicked sideway, half-turning and dropping to a knee as his swords stabbed back, impaling the would-be killer. Fury jumped forward, over dead and dying men and finally impaled the last. "Is that all you got?" he taunted them.
But more men swung over as Eret began to stir. He watched the pirate ready himself for the second wave and tried to get up, tripping and cursing as he slithered in the bloody deck. With a roll of the eyes, Fury turned and slammed the hilt of his sword back across the man's face, knocking him senseless again. But as he turned back, he saw more men...and muskets lined up on his lean shape. Magne Jorgensen stalked across the gangplank onto the deck and stared at the pirate.
"So we meet at last, Fury," he said coldly. "It's over. Surrender!" Fury glared at him for a very long moment, breathing hard and resisting the urge to kill the man. He would certainly pay with his life...and he would probably still not succeed. And he didn't want Arild to watch. He lifted his swords very slowly, breathing hard...and then his hands relaxed. The double clang of the metal hitting the deck was loud in the sudden silence.
"You got me," the pirate said. Magne punched him, hard. Caught off-guard, he slammed to the deck, his head ringing with the blow. Men hauled him up, hands forcing his arms behind his back and ropes biting deep into his wrists. Magne hit him again and he staggered, shaking his head. Then he heard a cry and saw a man lift a struggling shape, heard a small stream of childish cursing. "NO! Arild..." the pirate groaned, taking another blow, His knees buckled. The boy was roped up tightly and thrown at his side. his face streaked with tears. Carefully, the pirate leaned against him, flinching as a kick thudded into his side. "Buddy," he said in a tight voice, trying to be reassuring.
"Dad," the boy whimpered, his green eyes terrified. "I'm s-so sorry..." Fury pressed his body close to the boy, feeling the terrified child curl against him, seeking protection. Magne grabbed the boy's hair and dragged him away, then inspected the writhing shape.
"What's this?" he sneered. Arild spat at him and the punch Magne automatically dealt him slammed the boy to the deck, stunned. The truncated cry made the pirate flinch in guilt and rage boiled in his chest once more. Fury lurched forward, shoulder-charging him back and earning another vicious punch for his pains. He crashed to the deck and bowed forward as Jorgensen circled him, his cold blue eyes inspecting the helpless prisoner. He nodded and one his men lifted the butt of the musket over Fury's unprotected head...
"HALT!" The bellow froze everyone in his tracks, the man lowering his musket obediently as Magne started and lifted his head in a scornful smile.
"Hello, Uncle," he greeted the man, seeing the flagship of the Berk Navy pull alongside. "I see you finally arrived safely."
"And I see you have him," Stoick said bluntly. He didn't like his younger nephew-the tales he had heard as Governor from men and women too terrified to press charges had him always watching his back around Magne. "Hand him over, son. He's to be tried in front of the people of Berk."
"I'd like a little longer, sir-just to treat him to the same level of inconvenience that he's caused us..." Magne growled. The Governor inspected the bowed shape on his knees, blood dripping from a cut on his cheek, his scarf barely covering the tip of his nose and mouth, his body bowed over a trembling child.
"Now," the Governor insisted. "I want him alive, Magne. And the little boy." Magne gritted his teeth and gestured to his men and Fury found himself hauled up and shoved across to the Governor's ship. He turned his head to check Arild was okay and saw the boy handed over like a sack.
And he found himself trembling, the proximity to his father almost too much to bear. The memories shuddered through him, completely disorientating him. It was just as if he had never left: he was back here at the beginning of his nightmare, vulnerable and bound and in pain, awaiting the damning verdict of his father. But now he was guilty and he had his innocent son here, facing the same penalties.
"Please, my Lord-let the boy go," he said gruffly, staring at the floor.
"What?" Stoick's voice was a hostile growl. He half-turned his bulk, his piercing gaze raking the bound shape in leather armour with the half-concealed face. The scruffy auburn hair half-covered his face, the scarf over his lower face. The man's green eyes were suddenly dark with despair.
"Arild is an orphaned lad who is my cabin boy," Fury said heavily. "He refused to leave my side. He hasn't hurt anyone or stolen anything. Please...don't punish him for my crimes..."
"He was with you before...and he did attack one of Drago's men during the escape," the Governor reported.
"Only to save my life," Fury pleaded. "There is nothing to be gained by tormenting a small child. Give him a chance. Don't put him in the jail. Don't make him watch my death." Stoick gestured and his marines dragged the pirate to his feet, lifting the boy as well.
"Take them to the cage!" he growled and watched as the pirate was hauled away. He gestured and the whimpering boy was lifted and taken with him. His eyes lingered on the pirate for a long moment, the plea for his son rolling around his head before he turned away and bellowed to the Captain.
"SET COURSE FOR BERK!"
oOo
The news hit Berkisport before the ships entered the harbour because the lookouts had seen the entire fleet, Magne's ships and the captured Night Fury heading for the docks. Word swept the town and all the population dropped what they had been doing and raced for the moorings. Astrid, who had remained in the townhouse, went too, shoving through the throng and claiming her place amongst the dignitaries. After all, her husband was a senior commander on the mission.
Magne's ship, captained by the privateer Savage and the Governor's flagship, the Rumblehorn, docked at almost the same time and Magne and Eret almost ran from the ship to greet the Governor as he disembarked.
"WE HAVE HIM!" Stock announced to thunderous cheers from the crowd. And then he was brought forward, heavily bound and escorted by two hefty guards. His head was downcast as he walked down the gangplank and back onto the docks. Behind him, the small shape of Arild was dragged along, his face white with fear and eyes shining with tears. For a moment, Fury straightened up and struggled until he saw Astrid. There was a plea in his wide green eyes, desperation on his bruised face.
"Lady Astrid!" he said urgently, earning a rough blow from his guards. "Please-I have to beg you for a favour!" She folded her arms and glared at him. He had let her down by being captured and she knew Eret would gloat at his triumph. And he had humiliated her several times. She sighed: though she had seen his gentler side, witnessed his devotion to the child and his crew, she couldn't betray her feelings for him. She couldn't reveal her sympathy at seeing the cocky pirate captured like an animal.
"Why should I grant you any help when all you did was humiliate and taunt me?" she snapped, completely aware that every eye had fallen on her-including the Governor and her loathsome husband.
"I did save your life," he protested, but the confidence, the cockiness was gone. "Please-the favour isn't for me...but for the boy..." She tore her gaze from his mesmerising eyes, dark with desperation and inspected the little bowed shape, trembling with tears streaking his cheeks.
"What about him?" she asked in a gentler voice, recalling the boy's bravery and devotion to his Captain. And the fact that he had brought them the key that enabled them to escape from Drago's clutches. Fury swallowed.
"Please-care for him," he begged. "Take him into your home." She started at such a bold and inappropriate request.
"Why should I take in your bastard?" she asked him though her eyes held a silent plea for him alone. Please give me a reason...
"Because he saved your life, because he's a child and because he's innocent," he said softly. "I...won't be able to care for him. He deserves some good fortune in his life. Please..."
"No!" Eret snapped.
"Yes," she said quietly. "If the Governor permits...?" Stoick stared at her and then at the trembling child. He nodded once.
"There are no charges against the boy," he confirmed. "Thank you, Lady Hofferson."
"Eretson!" Eret snapped and the Governor glared at him. He recoiled, suddenly recalling the man's rank. Astrid walked forward and the guard cut the boy's ropes. He immediately ran to Fury and flung himself at the man's legs.
"Dad!" he wailed. "NO! I wanna be with you..." Fury dropped to his knees and stared into the distraught little face.
"It's okay, buddy," he said gently. "Lady Astrid will look after you now. I want you to protect her, okay? Make me proud, bud. And always remember...I love you..." Arild hugged him desperately until Astrid lifted him and pulled him away. He clung to her, whimpering as Fury was dragged to his feet. "Thank you," he whispered then turned to the Governor, lifting his chin defiantly. "I'm ready," he announced before he was hauled away the the jail. Stoick faced the people of Berk.
"The trial is in three days."
A/N: Yes, Hiccup has just invented the mine. (Well, he is a clever lad...)
At the beginning, I said this was based on various pirate films etc that I have seen over the years but on reviewing it also seems to have a generous slug of one of my favourite books 'The Count of Monte Cristo' in the mix. So acknowledgements to Alexandre Dumas also.
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