Eleven: The Bigger Picture

Lightning crackled around the Skrill as it brushed past Toothless and Hiccup found himself ducking, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as the static washed over him. The Night Fury effortlessly flipped and dived down towards the water, knowing the Skrill avoided water as a matter of course because it prevented the dragon from utilising its electricity. Snapping a quick look over his shoulder, Hiccup leaned into the turn and saw the Skrill chasing after him, his eyes wide with surprise before he got his game face on. Somehow, despite the fact he was still injured and down a leg, he was feeling more like himself, his mind clicking through the probabilities and a grin stretching his battered face.

"Head for those seastacks-and the glacier behind them," he said in a low voice and they ripped across the waves. The roar closed as the Skrill raced after them, trying to collapse the lip of the glacier on the Night Fury as they tried to lure the other dragon in. The Skrill recalled being trapped in the ice for so long and tricked back by the same Night Fury that was facing it now...and anger rippled through its veins. A bolt of lightning seared past Hiccup and he yelled in pain as it scorched his thigh. He looked up in anger.

"Hey-you attacked us!" he shouted at it. "And I'm trying not to harm you. Thor-I released you when I should have trapped you again-because it wasn't going to be as bad as the Hunters. It wasn't your fault that we found you in the ice. It wasn't your fault that you were the symbol of the Berserkers and that Dagur wanted you to destroy us. You just wanted to be free. And we were wrong when we trapped you. I mean, I thought I was right when I did it because we couldn't let Dagur have you because he probably would kill us and destroy Berk if you were under his control...but it wasn't fair. I'm sorry."

The dragon stopped and glared at him. Toothless glared back, his pupils narrowed and body tensed, ready to fight. But Hiccup stared at the dragon and slowly reached forward, offering his hand.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was willing to give my life to stop Ryker shooting you. So was Toothless. And if Odin wills it, I will continue to protect dragons-for as long as I am granted on Midgard."

The dragon paused, then flapped backwards, settling on the seastack. Toothless landed beside it, nuzzling it briefly before the Skrill bowed his head and then turned away, flapping off up into the clouds. Hiccup stared after it and then fumbled in Toothless's saddlebag, finding his spare leg. And despite the fact his stump was a horrendous mess, he strapped it on wth relief, gritting his teeth against the pain. No matter the discomfort, he hated being without the leg and feeling weak and useless, dependent on others. Sitting up straight, a small shiver running through him in the cold breeze, he stared at the horizon.

"Can you sense her, bud?" he murmured. Ears flicking, Toothless gave him a 'really?' look and warbled. Hiccup leaned forward. "Good," he said and clipped his prosthetic into the saddle. "Now let's go find Astrid!"

oOo

The sounds of explosions and roars jerked Astrid from sleep, automatically reaching for her axe and wincing as she pulled the knife wound. Stormfly gave a desperate roar and she raced from her lodging-to see Fliers attacking the village, the Defenders running from the Singetails, for their beliefs would not conscience them attacking any dragon. Throwing herself into the saddle, she urged the Deadly Nadder into the air, determined to drive the Singetails away from the village-and then she saw them attack the main dais and blast apart Mala's throne.

She screamed and arrowed straight up at the Singetail's soft underbelly, spines stabbing into the much larger dragon's hide. It roared and peeled away, though two more took its place. But Astrid flipped round, directing Stormfly to loop the loop, her Rider clinging on with her knees and her axe swinging viciously, decapitating the two Fliers before they even realised she was aiming for them. Freed of their control-and Astrid noted once again the dragons were harnessed with chains and didn't seem at all concerned that their humans had been slaughtered-the Singetails broke off the attack and headed away. The remaining Fliers were still strafing the village and Stormfly swooped down, rolling to use her wing to shield a mother and child, running from their collapsing house. There were flames and screams. Mala and Throk were shepherding the villagers away, directing the bucket chains and trying to save what they had...and Astrid felt guilt crash around her.

"You want me-you come for me!" she yelled, spraying spines at the Singetails. They ducked away, many glancing off or not doing much damage through the large dragons' thick hides. Astrid felt despair swathe her: alone, she couldn't hope to beat the Fliers. But suddenly, there was a roar and a huge shape accelerated towards the Fliers, impervious to their most powerful explosions and though not especially fast, solid and unstoppable. Mala looked up, her eyes wide in shock.

"The Great Protector," she murmured, bowing her head slightly as the young Eruptodon-still several times larger than a Singetail-slammed straight through the attacking Fliers and drove them off the village. It roared ferociously and used its bulk to batter them away, its lava-proof hide completely impervious to their best efforts. Astrid swiftly orbited it and fired again at them, unseating a couple more Fliers who fell into the crowd of furious Defenders. Glancing down at the village and her allies-attacked because of her-she directed Stormfly down and dived through the now shattered roof of her lodging. Leaning down, she grabbed her pack, the discarded blanket and her other weapons and soared up, casting one last glance at the village before arrowing out to sea. And, as she hoped, the Fliers broke off the collapsing attack to follow her, leaving the damaged village under the hovering Great Protector.

She knew she could outfly them, for though the tetrapterous Singetails were much bigger, more aggressive and ferociously armed, Stormfly was faster and much more manoeuvrable. Securing her possessions and checking her axe was safe, she leaned low over her dragon's neck. Johann and the Fliers were hunting her now and there was no place that was safe.

"Come on, girl," she murmured. "Let's lose these monsters and go hunting. If Johann wants there to be no respite, I can make it cut both ways...and I have an idea..."

oOo

Dagur arrived on Sleuther at dusk, looking windblown and thoughtful. He greeted the Riders carefully, hugged his sister and immediately went to check on Hiccup and see Stoick. The Riders watched as he trudged up the hill, his eyes fixed on the House and he sighed.

Within, he found Stoick sitting by Hiccup's bed, gently dribbling a thin gruel over his dry, chapped lips. For a long moment, Dagur stared at the motionless shape and then he cleared his throat, partly elated that his friend was still alive and party concerned at how pale and sick the Hooligan Heir looked. Stoick looked up and frowned as he saw the shape at the door, momentarily reminded of the trouble this man had caused his son-before somehow-however improbably-Dagur changed his side, his character and his entire beliefs. He nodded.

"Dagur," he said guardedly.

"Stoick," the Berserker Chief greeted his host, not coming closer. "How is he?"

"Alive," Stoick answered evenly. "Against all hope, he's still alive. But he sleeps." Dagur folded his arms, trying to read between the lines.

"When he's going to wake?" he asked. "I can come back when..."

"He's not woken since he had the antidote, a week ago," the Chief said heavily. "We have managed to get fluids down him and washed and cared for him...but if he doesn't return to consciousness soon, he will die. I know he was out for a week after the Red Death...but he was fine before then. This time...he was poisoned and his body was collapsing even before he fell into unconsciousness."

"I'm sorry," Dagur said, feeling awkward. He had never felt comfortable with Stoick, ever since he had made his peace with Hiccup and the Riders. Stoick wasn't quick to forgive everything that Dagur had done to his son-and the Berserker was pretty certain that Hiccup didn't tell his father the half of what he had put the Riders through. But Hiccup had insisted that his father had sat down with Dagur and reaffirmed the peace treaty with the Berserker Tribe, using every ounce of his persuasion to stop his father from attacking his friend.

"Aye, well it wasn't your fault this time," Stoick grumbled and Dagur nodded.

"No-and if I could have stopped it, I would have," he said honestly. "He brought us together, he gave me a chance when I didn't deserve it...though he is incredibly determined and bone-headed. And strangely suspicious. From you, I guess?" Stoick looked up, gently stroking his son's forehead.

"He's a man who sees the good in others where I see only darkness-but he isn't a fool," he told the Berserker. "He has learned some lessons I rather he would not have-from you and that Viggo. I know things have happened to him that he hasn't told me but I know he considers you a friend. Please tell me you didn't know about this plan?" Dagur shook his head.

"If I had any inkling they planned this, I would have stopped it," he said quietly. "I know you hate when I call him 'brother' and I know he isn't...in blood. But he brought Heather and me back together and he gave me Shattermaster, my first dragon, and taught me to ride and train dragons properly. He gave me a chance. He looked after Heather when she-and they-all thought I had died attacking Viggo's ambush. They helped me get my Shattermaster back-and gave me the chance to meet Sleuther as well. And though he doesn't always listen to sense, he isn't that reckless. This was Krogan, not Viggo."

Stoick grunted, absently stroking the auburn hair.

"He looks so frail," he murmured. "And yes, I know he's far tougher than he looks, Dagur-but he's not eaten for over a week and his fever is only just settled. He has so many wounds that need to heal. And he's my son, my boy, the tiny baby I held in my hands, scared that he wouldn't survive. But then I heard that cry, so fierce and determined and the grip on my finger was so tenacious I knew he would be the strongest of them all. And I know I and Gobber and any other of my warriors would have died by now...but he's still fighting. He's fighting to be with Toothless and Astrid."

Dagur took a step forward, his green eyes serious.

"Where is she?" he asked. "I thought she wouldn't leave his side..."

"She's gone," the Chief said baldly. "When we had passed the last point where Gothi said that the antidote would work, where he was fading before our eyes, she swore her vengeance and went after them. She said she wanted to remember him as he was-alive, not as a funeral pyre. But he survived." Dagur walked to the other side of the bed and gently grasped Hiccup's hand.

"Hello, brother," he said in his normal, cheerful voice. "I knew you wouldn't leave us-you're far too stubborn. Now I think we need you to wake up. Because Astrid needs you." Stoick looked up.

"Dagur?" he asked. The Berserker took a seat and continued to hold Hiccup's hand.

"It's all rumours and whispers but people have seen wreckage...and bodies, floating on the seas. Hunters."

"Good," Stoick muttered. "About time..." But Dagur shook his head.

"No," he said calmly. "Not like this. There are refugees. A small number of women and children, of old men and one deposed Chief. The Dragon Hunter Tribe has been destroyed and they have renounced everything." At the words, Stoick started and stared at the younger Chief.

"How...?" he murmured.

"The village was destroyed and razed to the ground by a dragon attack-all Deadly Nadders, led by a blonde women who rode a dragon," he said.

"Astrid."

"Yes-and she told them in no uncertain terms that she would have slaughtered every single one, down to the last babe in arms-but that she was only sparing them because her Betrothed would have done so," he reported. "She made the former Chief sign a document for the council of Chiefs, declaring the tribe disbanded and that all their possessions were No Man's." Stoick's head turned and he stared at the still figure. Dagur inhaled sharply. "Oh please tell me they didn't..." he murmured as Stoick gently twitched the neck of the tunic open to reveal the pink faded brand, the only wound that had healed so far.

"Yes," Stoick murmured sadly. "And it doesn't surprise me that she would have made sure they were gone, that they suffered for making her beloved Hiccup, my son, property..." He spat the word in anger and then calmed himself. "And the words mean he is freed. He is No Man's."

"You have my word this is a secret I will never betray," Dagur said in a low voice. "But Stoick, do you understand what this means?" The Chief nodded.

"Those of us who ride dragons-Hooligans, Outcasts, Berserkers-will be isolated and maybe feared by the others," he said grimly. "They may act against us-or make us sign Treaties never to use dragons in war against them."

"And to deal with the renegade," Dagur hissed. "I have already heard outrage and rumours. She's annihilated a dragon auction as well. Men have died. Some of them from the other Tribes...men on official business, in fact."

"Who were already breaking the pacts they signed with us over the last three years," Stoick reminded him. Dagur shook his head and ran his fingers through his short, spiky carrot red hair.

"They see watching a dragon fight as a bit of fun over which we will not go to war...but for one person-just one-to lead a whole island worth of dragons and wipe out a Tribe...well, that's a level of threat that they may suddenly decide they can't stomach," he warned.

"Of course, my son would go to war over auctions, dragon fights and dragon hunting," Stoick sighed. "Which is why we are where we are..." Dagur shook his head.

"No-there's something more," he revealed. "Viggo survived and so did the DragonEye. Hiccup has built one of his own-which he hasn't revealed to them. They wanted his lenses...but we don't know for what. But Krogan is a ruthless enemy. He tried to buy Toothless at the auction where the riders were captured and he captured Hiccup when there was a bounty on him-he was the 'masked viking'. He rides a Singetail and he is utterly ruthless."

"A dangerous enemy," Stoick agreed, his eyes never leaving Dagur's face. "Why are you here?" Dagur sighed.

"Astrid is being hunted by Viggo and Krogan," he revealed. "Hunters have put a bounty on her. They want there to be no respite for her."

"Fishlegs received a Terror Mail from Queen Mala that they were attacked," Stoick mused. "I guess it was to stop Astrid receiving help..."

"Or to try to kill her..." Dagur murmured. "They may come here next." The Chief rested a hand possessively over his son's.

"They will get nowhere," he promised. "The Riders and Tribe will protect Hiccup and keep them away. Toothless won't leave his side." Dagur looked over at the Night Fury, still curled miserably a few yards from the bed and nodded.

"I'll feed him, if I may?" he asked. "I want to speak to hum as well..." Stoick raised his bushy eyebrows and stared at his fellow Chief. From the man who wanted the dragon's skull as a helmet to a Rider who wanted to talk to the dragon as an equal and fellow defender of Hiccup, sometimes he found the volte-face very hard to accept. But he was in no doubt that the Berserker was completely sincere.

"I'll stay with Hiccup," he promised as the Night Fury slowly got to his feet. It was obvious that the dragon had lost a lot of condition, spending almost all his time with his sick Rider. "Go, dragon. Eat. Fly. Keep yourself healthy-because Hiccup will need you. You may be his last hope if they do attack Berk." Staring into the Chief's face for a long moment, the Night Fury looked away and ambled to the door, making a crooning noise to Dagur as if inviting him to come along. The buff Berserker Chief got to his feet.

"We won't be long, brother-and I will make sure he eats properly and has a good flight before he comes back," he promised. And then he looked over towards the Chief of the Hooligans. "But I need you to think about one thing. What will you do, Stoick, if the Council of Chiefs asks you to stop Astrid? What will you do if they ask you to kill her for taking the vengeance that I know we all crave? Will you risk isolation or war for one vengeful Rider?"

Stoick waited until he had left with the dragon and the door had closed before he leaned close to his son, enclosing his limp hand in his huge grasp.

"We both know the answer, son," he murmured. "They have to fall...because if we leave them, they will come here and kill you. So I will risk it all to ensure that you and our dragons are safe...and that Astrid is allowed to finish her quest."