Fifty: A Hero's Welcome.

Shouts went up all over Berkisport as the ragged black sails of the Night Fury were sighted the next morning. Without any invitation, most of the population headed down to the cliffs and the harbour to greet the last hero of the battle for Berk. Stoick and Snotlout had to bellow to be let through the throng and take their places on the dock as the ship trimmed her sails and drew alongside. Camicazi, Mathilda and BJ all sped up, with the female pirate captain winking knowingly at Snotlout, who grinned broadly back. There was muttering and complaining as the other pirates-Viggo, Thuggory and Leifur-pushed through the crowds to join them.

The Night Fury had certainly seen better days: her sails ragged and torn, her rails smashed and rigging coming down. The crew were working hard and on the poop deck, by Ruff at the wheel, the small jet-haired boy was standing thoughtfully alongside the grey and purple dragon that was nuzzling into his hand and purring reassuringly. Eager hands grasped the ropes the ship threw over and the dock-workers couldn't moor her quickly enough. Finally, as Stoick shuffled his feet and Snotlout scuffed his heel a few times, the gangplank was lowered and Fishlegs appeared at the end.

"We need Gothi the medic," he said.

Snotlout's eyes instantly widened with worry, staring across the deck and realising there was no sign of Hiccup or Astrid. He started forward, his face concerned.

"Are they...?"

"Astrid was stabbed in the back by Heather and Hiccup..." Then he paused. Snotlout walked closer, reading the worry in his face.

"Fishlegs?" he asked in a low voice. "Is he alive?" The First Mate nodded but wouldn't meet his eye.

"But he's dying," he revealed miserably. Snotlout frowned and grabbed his hand.

"Show me..." he insisted but Fishlegs shook his head.

"We need to get them both to Gothi," he said, beckoning. Roar and Mulch emerged with a bier, carrying Astrid, swathed in blankets but conscious, though deathly pale. Her hand snaked out and grabbed Snotlout's arm, the grip fierce.

"Hiccup?" she whispered. "They won't...let me see..." The Heir looked up helplessly-as Sven and Tuff emerged with another stretcher, carrying Hiccup...and immediately, Snotlout saw what Fishlegs had meant. The Captain was colourless save red spots on his cheeks, his emerald eyes glazed with fever. His dark auburn hair was stuck to his sweat-sheered face in tendrils and he was breathing raspily. He was moaning and whining, mumbling to his wife and his son without seeing a thing around him. Despite her own injuries, Astrid reached out for his hand: it was scorching hot and he thrashed in agitation.

"ASTRID? Please...where are you? Please...tell me I didn't fail! Please tell me it wasn't true...that it wasn't all a lie...that once, you did...like me...please...I love you...don't leave me..."

Tears stood out on his face and Astrid felt her heart break just a little more: the desolation in his fevered voice reminded her of how horribly she had hurt him by making the choice she had...and how dismally he had suffered.

"I'm here, babe," she called, wincing as he jerked on her arm. "Don't leave me now I've finally got you back!"

"What's happened?" Snotlout demanded, his blue eyes grim. Tuff sighed.

"It was..."

"If you say awesome, I will punch you!" Snotlout threatened. Tuff blinked and stared at him, hurt.

"I was going to say TOTALLY AWESOME actually!" he protested as Snotlout growled. "Look, he took on a giant dragon, a vortex, Drago, Dagur and a storm. Not surprising our skinny Captain came off second best."

"Though he did defeat all of them," his sister pointed out, frowning.

"Well, yeah-all of the others are dead except the dragon which just kinda slunk away but even so..." Tuff conceded.

"His leg's really badly broken, he's got a horrible fever, he's delirious and I think...he's given up," Fishlegs continued. "He thinks he made a deal with the Gods...with his life as the payment..."

"Oh no he didn't..." Astrid grunted. "He's MINE! And I'm not handing him over. Can you get us to my house in town and..."

"It was damaged in the bombardment..." Snotlout explained with a regretful tone. "I'd offer mine but...you guys blew it up!" Astrid groaned.

"The Haddock townhouse is close by," Stoick suggested calmly, walking onto the ship and staring down at the restless, feverish shape. The glazed green eyes swept over the huge shape looming over him and he shook his head, seeing not the man now but his counterpart five years earlier.

"I'm sorry, Dad..." he groaned. "But I...I ...I love her. C-Can't you understand? Why does your problem have to ruin my life? Why do you punish me for doing what you and Mom did? If...if I had to choose between you and Astrid...I will choose her...even though she denies she ever loved me...because she did! And that means she did what you never could...."

Stoick closed his eyes, shame surging through him. This was the man to whom Berk owed its existence-and he had been wronged so badly by his father. He had been astonished when Snotlout had insisted on speaking to him and had every calmly and determinedly laid out the case for his son, insisting that Stoick's initial reaction was excessively cruel and vicious...and his persisting prejudice against the pirate had damaged Hiccup. And that Captain Fury had done everything possible-and more-in stopping Drago. Prepared for a fight, Stoick had turned puce in rage...but Snotlout had remained calm and reasonable and no matter how much Stoick had blustered and shouted, he had ending up feeling foolish and petty.

And now...this. Just as he was prepared to approach Hiccup, to begin the awkward conversation that he knew in his heart he had owed his son for far too long, the boy had only gone and raced off the end Drago on his own...and come back in this state. He sighed, feeling the weight of Gobber's scowl on his back. "I know, Gobber," he said gruffly before the blacksmith could open his mouth. "I should have made things right when I had the chance...instead of arresting him and threatening to turn him over to the enemy..."

"Yer a fool, Stoick!" the blacksmith said bluntly, his blue eyes inspecting his friend and reading the shamed expression on his face. "Yer son is a remarkable, brave and canny man. If he weren't, we wouldnae ha' known of Drago until he marched up the cliff and put us all tae the sword! And yer couldnae ha' even gi'en him the dues he earned from saving us! It took Snotlout, who bullied him like Hel when he was small, tae point this out tae ye!" Sighing, the Governor closed his eyes.

"And now...I'm out of time," he sighed. "I lost my wife a long time ago and then there was no second chance...but here, now, I have squandered every chance I had...until it's too late!"

"No..." Astrid murmured, his eyes locked on her husband. "No...I'm not losing him..." She peered up, tired blue eyes still sparkling with her determination. "We'll take it!" she said determinedly. "Send Gothi now. Guys-get us there!"

Watching as they were borne away, Stoick and Gobber sighed...and then stiffened as the patter of small feet heralded the arrival of their son. Arild was scampering after his parents when Stoick stepped in his way. Eyes wide and fearful, the boy backed up. Stoick scratched his bearded chin loudly.

"Arron..." he began.

"Arild!" Gobber hissed and Stoick hmphed, then turned back to the boy, as if it was his fault he had the wrong name.

"As you know, I am your grandfather..." he began but the lad shook his head urgently.

"No, you're not," he said suddenly. "You made that very clear, sir. You left me with the bad man because I wasn't your blood. So you aren't my grandfather and I don't want you to be either. Now please, let me go...I need to be with Mom and Dad!"

"Wait a minute..." Stoick blustered but there was a growl and Stormy slunk to Arild's side, his pupils narrowing in response to his rider's anxiety. Staring at the beast, Stoick backed up and the boy and dragon scampered past, after the slow-moving stretchers.

"Way to go, Uncle!" Snotlout commented sarcastically. "I'm not sure you could have managed to alienate the boy better."

"I'm trying!" the Governor growled.

"Try harder! And attempt to understand the boy's position. You left him to Magne, who beat him badly, terrorised him and broke his arm. You had a chance to rescue him when he was desperate and afraid, simply because he meant something to Hiccup...but instead, you tossed him aside like trash! Why should he give you a chance when you have nothing he needs or wants?"

"Yer Heir is right!" Gobber added. "He's a scamp, that one, but he loves his Dad dearly...and Hiccup is a doting and loving father...because yer never was!" Lifting his heavy head, Stoick stared after the party, the little boy and dragon protectively following the injured pair as they topped the ramp and made it to the main part of the town. "I'll tell yer now...if Hiccup dies, ye'll ne'er see that boy again!" Stoick covered his eyes with his huge palm.

"Gobber...what have I done?"

oOo

Gothi's verdict was damning...not of Hiccup's attempts in saving his wife's life, because that had been successful...but of the Captain's condition. His broken and shattered ankle had been poorly realigned and splinted, causing the man far more pain than it should and the stab wound had effectively compounded the break, allowing infection to sweep into the muscle and bone. The cold and rain had just sealed the deal and her prescription was the same as Sven's: the leg was lost.

Astrid had listened patiently, sitting propped up on a bed laden with pillows and bolsters and then tears had trickled down her cheeks. Arild had scrambled onto the bed and into her lap, tears streaking his face and the two had hugged for a long time.

"And there is no other option?" she checked.

'Death,' Gothi had written down, her piercing eyes apologetic. 'He is dying. That leg will never heal and will cause him constant pain...constant agony.'

"Can I speak to him?" she asked softly.

'Speak but I doubt he will hear. He is beyond already...he is not resisting...'

"Take me to my husband!" Astrid ordered, grimacing but tightening her arms around the boy. Arild swiped his face dry and scrambled down as Fishlegs lifted her and carried her through to the adjacent room, her body still very sore whenever she was moved. Arild scampered along, waving at the twins who were lounging outside the sick room idly kicking each other. They stared in shock as Astrid was carried in and gently placed in a chair laden with cushions and then grabbed Arild, holding him comfortingly at the back of the room while Astrid spoke to her dying husband. Pale but brave, she leaned forward and grasped Hiccup's scorching hand, watching him writhe and whimper, his white, sweat-streaked face twisted in terror and pain.

"No, DAGUR! NO! Please...NO..." he wailed, waving his hands wildly, his unseeing eyes darting from side to side, seeing shades from his past trials. "Don't hurt them...please..." Heart breaking at his confusion and fear, she leaned forward and kissed him, feeling the heat in his skin, his lips dry and cracked.

"It's me...I'm here," she said desperately, squeezing his hand to her face. "Hiccup...it's Astrid! Please...I need to talk..."

"Astrid...please...I-I love you..." he whimpered. "I don't know why you said you never loved me, you never liked me but...I know it wasn't true and I don't understand w-why..."

"Hiccup...I'm sorry..." she whispered, tears rolling down her face and dripping onto his skin. "I should have been stronger...I should have accepted the threats and waited for you!" He blinked and for a moment, his vision cleared.

"Milady..." he murmured. Her eyes flicked up to see his weary face.

"My pirate," she whispered, her cool hand resting against his scorching face. "Hiccup...your leg...its badly infected...you'll die...unless-unless..."

"Amputate?" he breathed, closing his eyes and turning his head away. "Astrid, I..."

"I love you and can't lose you," she told him softly. "I own half of Berk and it means nothing. I don't care that you are a pirate, that you have a stash and a ship and a crazy crew. I don't care if you have two legs or one or none. I just want Hiccup. I want you..."

"Not all of me..." he breathed with grim humour. She kissed him again, while he was still conscious of her and felt him respond this time, very gentle and weary but definitely a real and desperate response. And she could tell he was terrified: no matter his brave words, he didn't want to die.

"You are everything that matters to me," she reminded him softly, staring into his frightened face.

"So are you...you and Arild..." he breathed wearily. "Promise me...promise me you will look after him if..."

"Of course," she assured him, stroking his strained face. "But it's not going to go wrong."

"It almost did," he breathed, swallowing painfully. "I nearly lost you. So I made a bargain...and I'll pay what price the Gods demand for sparing you both..."

"Babe-do you trust me?" she whispered. Swallowing, he nodded once. "Then trust me in this. You won't die. We will save you. I'm calling Gothi and we will do what we have to..."

"I love you, Milady," he sighed. "And I'll pay what price the Gods demand." His breathing hitched and he groaned and whimpered, eyes glazing again. He flung his head back, writhing in misery. "No! Dagur...please..." Astrid stared at his frightened face and kissed his hand, then lifted her gaze.

"Do it," she said. "How...how much will you need to take?"

'The lower half of his shin and the foot,' Gothi scribbled. Astrid groaned as Fishlegs shook his head.

"No! This is wrong!" he shouted. "He needs both legs to..."

"What? Walk to his coffin?" she shot back. "He's going to die!" And she grabbed the blanket and sheet, dragging them down to reveal the horror that was his left ankle and foot. Fish, Ruff and Tuff stilled, eyes wide and shocked at the mess. Wearily, Astrid dragged the blankets back up. "I want him to live, more than anything. He wasn't a pirate five years ago and if he can't be again, then he has so many other skills. I am sure he has a little money put by...and I have more than enough to ensure we, Arild and any other children never want for anything. But I want him...and I wronged him once by letting him go without a fight: this time, I will fight the Gods of Valhalla to keep him. Because I didn't fight against the darkness that was calling to me when I was stabbed, when he asked me to stay only to have him up and leave me!"

There was a pregnant silence...before Ruff spoke up, Arild's face buried in her shoulder as he wept at his Mom's words.

"Do what you must," she said quietly. "He's still our Captain, no matter how many limbs he has!"

oOo

They had been ordered to wait outside as Gothi and three of her assistants headed into the room, followed by Fishlegs, Sven and Roar who had been asked to hold the patient down. Gothi was considered unique because she boiled her instruments before use and washed her arms and the patent's limb down with alcohol. But outside the room, in a padded chair, Astrid sat and watched as the door slammed closed, blocking the view of the shapes closing around her dying husband, performing a desperate procedure to try to save his life.

Arild was staring at the door, small hands resting on the wood and shoulders shaking. Astrid leaned forward with a groan, gritting her teeth against the hot pull on the knife wound in her back and gently called him. The small shape looked round, his bright green eyes tragic and face soaked with tears that ran without cease down the pale skin.

"He's going to die, isn't he?" he whimpered. She beckoned him closer and pulled him into her lap and her arms, wrapping a tight embrace around the skinny body. His arms stretched around her and his head burrowed into her chest.

"This is their best chance to save him," she said as she heard voices in the room.

"But they want to cut his leg off," Arild whimpered. Astrid nodded, resting her cheek on the top of his head.

"The infection there will kill him," she tried to explain. "If-if they remove it, he may live."

A low cry sounded from the room. Arild flinched and curled tighter into her body.

"You didn't let me say goodbye," he accused her, his voice thick with grief. She stroked the back of his head tenderly as another scream sounded, breaking her heart even more.

"He wouldn't know you, Arild," she said, tears starting in her own eyes. "He barely knew me...and only for a moment. You have to remember him as he was, not how he is now. Your Dad is brave and he is strong and he will fight as hard as he can to stay with us. But we have to be brave as well." There was another scream and the boy curled up further, his hands pressed over his ears.

"I don't want to be brave," he whimpered. "I just want my Dad."

"So do I," she whispered, flinching at another desperate howl of pain.

A final scream echoed through the room...and then there was an abrupt silence.

"Forgive me, my love," she murmured, staring at the door, praying and hoping he had survived the operation. "Stay with me. Stay with us." Arild buried his head against her. "And whatever happens, Arild, I will always look after you," she promised. Tears trickled down her cheeks. "I'll keep my promise my love-but I want you to keep yours and come back to me!"

oOo

"So the rumour is that he's dying," Leifur said, staring at his mug of mead. The pirate Captains had all been following what was happening with distinct interest because they suspected their welcome in Berkisport would rapidly evaporate once Fury breathed his last. Sloshing a fresh slug into his own mug, Thuggory slammed the pitcher down loudly.

"They've amputated his left leg," he reported. "Poor bastard was so out of it that all they had to do was hold him down and saw." Gilder-Mildew's First Mate and the acting-Captain of the Fungus-pulled a face.

"Didn't need to know that!" he grumbled, draining his mug and reaching for a refill. Though the Fungus had lost her Captain, the crew were still generally grumpy and cantankerous after enduring Mildew's dubious leadership.

"No, any intelligence is valuable," Viggo said smoothly, sitting back in his seat and rolling the mug in his hands. His dark eyes swept over his remaining Captains and sighed: Thuggory was self-absorbed and brave but a generally straightforward character; Leifur was suspicious, experienced and deadly; Gilder was untried but would probably be easy to manipulate; Dogsbreath of the Deadly Nadder was violent, stupid and vicious-hence very easy to direct and Camicazi was...crazy, belligerent and loathed Viggo. And whether he wanted to or not, Viggo missed his brother: enforcing his will would be more difficult now...though Dogsbreath would be worth cultivating. But there were more immediate concerns.

"It's unlikely Fury will be continuing, even if he does survive," Cami reported, taking a long sip of her own mead. "He's married Lady Astrid, got a kid and longs to settle down and resume the life he once dreamed of."

"How sweet!" Gilder snarked.

"How pathetic!" Dogsbreath scoffed, slurping his ale. Violent and generally reckoned to be achingly stupid, he was a big, ugly and brutal man who enjoyed inflicting pain-and had been out doing just that in the eastern Archipelago during the crisis, arriving at Dragon Island after the battle. Having found it deserted, he had engaged in a little light looting until he encountered the Fungus, which had been sent to search for survivors and had then followed the ship back to Berk.

"Which begs the question: what will become of his ship?" Thuggory asked brashly. "I mean, she's not as handsome as the Nightmare..."

"I am more concerned with his ordnance," Viggo commented. "I saw the weaponry they acquired to defeat Drago and am I the only one concerned that all that power is in the hands of one man?"

"I, too, have reservations," Leifur admitted.

"I don't!" Thuggory stated brashly. "Fury is the least aggressive of all of us. He won't turn them against us."

"And his crew?" Viggo suggested subtly. "Fury may be a decent man...but are all of them?"

"Probably not-they're pirates, after all!" Leifur commented.

"And what happens when they get bored...or greedy? Those weapons will be on sale to the highest bidder!" Viggo suggested. "Such as...that Governor? Do you want a weapon that can cut a ship's masts off in one-or slice the whole hull in half-in official hands? Or that cannon that explodes a vessel? None of us would be safe!"

"And we would be if you had them, Viggo?" Cami asked him pointedly, reading his intentions. "Transition from Head of the Pirate Council to Pirate King in one fell swoop? Did you not understand why Wrinkly hid them from the pirates?"

"So what is your suggestion, Camicazi?" Viggo challenged her coolly. She gave a grin.

"See what happens?" she said easily. "I'm still not betting against Fury surviving. The man has too much to live for-and when he's back, he will do what needs to be done with the weapons." She paused. "I can tell you one thing: he is prepared to dump them at the bottom of the Sullen Sea rather than let you get your hands on them, Viggo!"

"While he was happy to give you his precious secret weapon, Cami? Did you warm his sheets for the honour?" Viggo asked her pointedly.

"Maybe you should be asking Thuggory the same questions since he carried them as well?" she taunted him to a loud guffaw from the handsome master of the Nightmare.

"Not sure Fury swings both ways," he scoffed. "And to be honest-not my type. I prefer buxom blondes, not skinny redheads!"

"While I am so over him...and his wife would kill if I made a move on him...as she demonstrated on the voyage," Cami finished with a rueful grin.

"Though not over the handsome Heir to Berk?" Leifur accused her. She grinned confidently.

"Let's see where the wind blows us!" she said cheerfully. "A girl's gotta look out for herself. Each pirate for himself, remember?"

"I recall," Viggo said in an arctic voice. The others smirked: they all knew he and his brother had never adhered to the code in that respect, each looking out for the other-until they had miscalculated and faced an enemy that needed every pirate-and Berk-to defeat.

"But Fury really didn't believe in that either-which is why we're here, not at the bottom of the sea or sailing around the Archipelago, scattered and leaderless," Thuggory reminded them, voicing what they were all thinking. "He's found us temporary harbour at Berk and ensured we were made welcome!"

"Welcome-hah!" Leifur sneered. "I saw how welcome the Governor made us!" Cami rose, nodding to the assembled group.

"Is he any more or less than one of us?" she asked thoughtfully. "He protects his own. He has let us stay provided we don't cause too much mayhem...and I think it's a better arrangement than any other on offer. Have you found us a new harbour, Viggo? You're welcome to come up with an alternative!" Then she grinned. "And now...I have a date!" Thuggory rose and winked.

"And i have a pretty little thing I have my eye on," he smirked and headed out as well. Viggo watched them go with a suspicious eye...then turned to his remaining pirates.

"I'm not sure either of those two are especially trustworthy either," he commented. "Both are too close to Fury."

"I don't want those weapons going to Berk," Leifur growled.

"Or that female," Gilder sneered. Viggo frowned.

"No-they need to be in our hands," he decided calmly. "Approach his crew members. There must be one who wants a new berth or a very fat purse in return for helping us get the weapons. After all-their Captain is dying and they are all enjoying the Port. How many will be keeping their eyes on the cannons?"

oOo

It was like waking up from a nightmare, still confused and uneasy and weak but slowly, the world was making more sense.

He felt ridiculously weak, every pore aching, his head feeling like it was stuffed full of shot and weighing a ton at least. His eyes hurt (how did that happen?) and his mouth and throat were like sandpaper. His limbs felt like string and his muscles felt as if he had been fighting for days. He blinked against the painful light and realised he was lying on one of those wonderful soft mattresses, rather than the hard boards of his bed on the ship...

...the ship! Was she safe? Were the crew fine...no wait, the twins would be okay, it was everyone else who would be in trouble...

...ASTRID! Gods, he had no idea how she was...the last he recalled was her sleeping in his arms when he was called out to find the ship under attack by Dagur and the last four ships of the Berserker fleet. The attack in that freezing storm where they sank the ships, defeated the fleet and the dragon killed Dagur...though not after he had mangled his leg some more...

...ARILD! Was his son safe? But he had the dragon, the twins and Fish who would look out for him...he knew they would care for the boy...

...his leg? It had been appallingly painful...he wasn't shy in admitting he had shed tears of pain when he had woken and Astrid had innocently rested on the shattered limb in her stupor...and he could scarcely recall what Dagur had done to him...except that it had completely washed his vision with red and he had done something crazy like dragging a sword out of his own leg and stabbing the man...and then he had fainted...

Something warm brushed against his hand and he rocked his head to stare down at a hand twined with his, soft fingers with one wearing Thuggory's ring curled around his. He moved very slightly and tightened his grip on Astrid's hand, seeing her snuggled in a large chair, pillows packed around her and a blanket tucked around her legs. Her eyes fluttered in response to the gentle alteration in pressure and she instantly moved her head to stare at him...and the relief and love in her azure gaze at seeing his forest green eyes meet hers filled his chest with warmth.

"Afternoon...Milady," he rasped, his lips tilting in a very slight smile. She scrabbled forward, never letting his hand go, and flung herself onto him, her arms latching on like a limpet.

"You're alive!" she said obviously, hugging him for all she was worth. He cautiously wrapped an arm around her and their lips met, gentle and careful, both aware how injured the other had been.

"Why, thank you," Hiccup murmured when she pulled away a little to inspect his ashen face, his few freckles the only colour he had. Her fingers gently combed through his matted auburn hair and she sighed.

"You very nearly weren't, babe," she told him gently. "You were very sick..." Frowning, he shook his head...

...dreams and nightmares had clustered around him with a few brighter, clearer moments that felt...safe...

'Amputate?'

"I love you and can't lose you...I want Hiccup...I want you...'

'Do you trust me?'

"My leg?" he asked her, his face suddenly still. With a sigh, she braced herself and lifted herself up, her grimace reminding him of her own life-threatening wound. "Are you...?" She slid to sit on the side of the bed, right by him and she nodded.

"Gothi is pleased," she admitted. "You saved my life, babe. She stitched it and I'm bandaged up but I'll live. And so will you."

"But not all of me," he realised quietly, feeling her hand tighten on his. She shook her head.

"I want you alive, my love, because I know you will cope with whatever life throws at you-and I am here beside you..."

"Whatever the Gods decree," he murmured. "So...they gave me a choice as well." He blinked. "Couldn't resist having a peg-legged pirate for a husband, eh?" he teased her as she leaned towards him, kissing his forehead.

"No chance! You're mine, Mr Pirate!" she smiled gently, staring into his green eyes. "Ready?" He gave a small nod and she quietly pulled the blanket and sheet down, revealing his left leg that ended about six inches below the knee, the stump bandaged firmly with crisp white linen. He tilted his head from side to side, breathing hard.

"Could've been worse," he admitted, breathing hard. He was shaking, overwhelmed with grief and loss and a overwhelming sense of failure...so he didn't resist as she curled over him, instead burying his face in her body, hugging her and feeling safe cocooned in her arms. He felt her kiss land lightly on his head.

"I'm sorry, my love," she murmured, tugging the blankets up and sliding down beside him in the bed. Feeling her body against his, he lifted his head, his emerald gaze shining.

"You saved me," he murmured. "I trust you. I need you. Just...stay with me. Please?"

"I am NEVER going anywhere again..." she promised, wrapping her arms around him. "I just want to spend time with my husband..."

"DAD! YOU'RE AWAKE!"

"...and my son..." she sighed, though there was a smile as Arild raced in and leapt onto the bed.

"DAD!" he shouted and crawled up to snuggle against him. The boy managed to worm his way into his arms, with Astrid also draping an arm around the skinny boy and he gave a contented little sigh. "I'm glad you're awake, Dad," he said tiredly. "Mom has been at your side all the time and its been so boring and its been over two weeks and the crew are getting bored...well, not really but they say they are only because Fishlegs is making them mend the ship and tidy up and we all know Tuff hates cleaning and I love you both and I love being your son, Dad..."

His eyes snapped open. "TWO WEEKS?" he gasped but Astrid snuggled against him.

"No reason to worry, babe," she said. "Snotlout is making sure the pirates are being treated fairly and your crew are basking in your glory, Hero of Berk!" He lay back with a groan.

"Oh, Gods," he groaned but she placed a finger firmly on his lips.

"You, mister pirate, need to keep your mouth shut and stop getting into trouble with Thor!" she told him tartly. He kissed her finger gently.

"Shutting up!" he sighed and snuggled against his family.

oOo