Nineteen: Departures

A chill wind blew through the small market on the rather isolated island of Boring. The larger Northern Markets were a preferable choice with a better selection of wares and larger crowds to get lost in but as Astrid moved carefully through the Boring stalls, she knew she couldn't risk running into Johann or any of his men. She had just survived one encounter and though she had warned Berk, she guessed the man would have sent Bounty Hunters after her in the same way that Viggo had after Hiccup. She was very certain, however, that his orders for the bounty would demand delivery of her head and that her body was nowhere near it.

Every sense was on alert as she moved gracefully through the stalls, her eyes scanning for necessities amid the wares. She and Stormfly could hunt and catch fish and meat but she needed bread, salt and other dried stores. Carefully, she bought her items, haggling hard and securing the best prices. The Traders were wary because she was an outsider, a pretty blonde in a hood and cloak, her shape poised and confident but they respected her politeness and skills in haggling. Within an hour, she had got all she needed and with a sigh, she looked around one last time. A large portion of her-the girl raised on Berk, firmly in the small but friendly and welcoming village surrounded by family-wanted to stay, craved company and people. But the pragmatic portion of Astrid the warrior reminded her that she had a target painted firmly on her back and that if she was anywhere near anyone she cared for, they would be in danger. She was better on her own.

As she was heading out, she suddenly found a pair of arms wrapped around her and a voice in her ear growling 'Keep still and this will go easy on you!' She felt the arms lift her off the ground, removing her leverage but the man who had her forgot to cover her mouth. She slammed her head back and heard the satisfying crunch of a nose breaking and as the arms loosened, she bellowed "STORMFLY!"

Eyes turned onto her as she slammed her head back again and the man bellowed, unable to breathe for the blood running from his smashed nose. Squirming free, she managed to get her feet on the ground, instantly using the leverage to hammer her elbow back into the man's gut and then spin free, slamming her boot into his knee, hearing another bellow as he stumbled.

She turned-and a second man grabbed at her, snaring her arm and attempting to pin it across her back. But before he could immobilise her, she flipped round and her feet cracked into his bearded jaw. He staggered and in the moment, she was able to snatch her axe and swung it round, the ferociously keen edge slicing deep into his crotch and splitting him open all the way up to his sternum. His urgent scream coincided with the release of pressure on her arm and a frantic scrabbling to try to stop the fat pink coils of his guts spewing all over the ground. Rolling away, Astrid's eyes locked on the man first with the mashed nose and face coated in blood as she expertly carved the axe round again, brutally decapitating him. And then she stood, breathing hard, her cloak askew and hood knocked back, the blood-smeared axe clamped in her hand as she glared over the corpses of her attackers.

People were standing back and pointing as she approached the closest corpse and searched him, finding a scroll with a terribly unflattering picture of her on above the description bounty of a thousand gold pieces. The Bounty demanded that she was brought dead to the rendez-vous with Viggo Grimborn on Huntersport Island...an island that Astrid had decimated and cleared of the Hunter Tribe. And she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this bounty was not set by Viggo but by Johann...using the dead Dragon Hunter's name as a shield to preserve his carefully cultivated anonymity. She snatched the dead Bounty Hunter's belt pouch and his knife then checked the other one out, using her foot to move aside his spilled guts before she relieved him of any money or weapons she could use. And then she looked up-to see a tentative crowd gathering, clasping what weapons they could muster. She rolled her eyes.

"These men attacked me and tried to kill me," she pointed out, holding up the Bounty poster to the shocked crowd.

"And they sure came off worse," one trader-a butcher- called. He was brandishing a meat cleaver that was no match for her axe. She nodded.

"I am a warrior," she announced. "These men's employer-Trader Johann-was working with Hunters who captured my Betrothed and harmed him terribly. I destroyed them."

There was a sudden silence.

"We will consign them to the seas," an older man, an Elder, announced, looking over his fellow villagers. "But you are not welcome here, stranger. We would ask that you leave and do not return. This is a peaceful place."

"I only defended myself!" she said angrily, her scornful blue gaze sweeping across them.

"The trouble followed you, stranger," the Elder called. "We do not need your dangers on our island." She nodded, cleaned her axe on the pants of one of the bounty hunters and then she gathered her scattered wares.

"If anyone asks about Astrid Hofferson, remind them what happened, will you?" she asked as a screech sounded. The villagers all cringed.

"We will!" the butcher promised as a blue Deadly Nadder with a raised golden frill screeched and landed a couple of yards from the girl. She nodded.

"Thor be with you," she called, swinging into the saddle on the dragon's back as people gaped. The awed words 'Dragon Rider' ran through the crowd like a breeze.

"I think you need his help more, Dragon Rider," the Elder called and Astrid nodded as she leaned low over Stormfly.

"Maybe-but I have you, my good girl, and that should be enough," she said as they launched into the grey sky as it began to rain.

oOo

Hiccup lay awake, the events of the day rolling around his head. His insecurities from before he met Toothless were swirling around him worse than ever. No matter what his father said, he was afraid of what his friends would say when they found out that he was branded. A slave. Nothing.

He shifted slightly in his bed, listening to Toothless's heavy breaths as he slept and the snores of his father, echoing up from lower down the roughly rebuilt house. He knew he should feel secure, that his father and Toothless would never permit anything to happen to him-but the only way they could guarantee that would be to keep Hiccup safely on Berk, within the arms of his friendly but indiscreet Tribe. And that would deny the young man his greatest love-of exploring, of discovering new places and new dragons. He would effectively be a prisoner, always staring at the distant horizon and knowing it was forever denied to him. He wondered if it would drive him mad.

But honestly, what was the alternative? No matter what his father said, he was branded by the Hunter Tribe, a slave. And though Astrid had killed Viggo and Krogan and destroyed the Hunter Tribe, he knew any man who uncovered the brand could claim him as an escaped slave and force him into servitude for the rest of his days. And then he would never see Toothless, Berk, his Dad-or Astrid again.

But would he ever see her again anyway? He knew that she had asked him to end their Betrothal, to forget her while she vanished off the face of Midgard. He knew as well as she did that Johann would send Bounty Hunters after her-charged with her death, not her capture-and anyone close to her was in danger. Everything told him that attacking Johann would not be simple-for who would suspect garrulous, inoffensive Johann of being the mastermind behind the Hunters and their appalling actions? And if she attacked him, wouldn't everyone leap to Johann's defence, bringing down Astrid and imprisoning her as insane and a danger to all right-thinking people? And while she was unarmed and in a jail, she would be easy prey for one of Johann's men to finish her. Quietly and without any fanfare, Astrid would die.

He had to find her and bring her home-and then they would find a way to end Johann together. Hiccup was sure that between them, they could formulate a plan that would outmanoeuvre the evil man and put an end to his schemes. She didn't mind that he was nothing...or did she? He blinked and focussed on the roof, the timbers dimly visible in the flickering light of the tiny candle that burned by his bed. He had suffered nightmares since he woke from his coma, visions of the torture swirling around him, the distorted faces of Viggo, Krogan and their men looming at him from the dark. He could still see Krogan as he branded him, the man's deep brown eyes wide with savage enjoyment as he pressed the red-hot brand hard onto Hiccup's bruised skin, the almost orgasmic look of pleasure as Hiccup had screamed in agony at the sizzling burn of his flesh. Instinctively, he pressed his hand onto the healing wound, still tender and pink but clean and he winced. The others could never know.

But Tuff had almost ripped the last shreds of Hiccup's hope away and uncovered the brand. And the young Viking had been astonished at his reaction to the intrusion and that he had hit Tuff, had wanted to hurt him for what he had almost done...and the thought made him horrified at himself. What if he snapped and actually hurt his friends...or worse? Or he asked Toothless? The Night Fury would protect him against anyone Hiccup seemed to be threatened by...and if he snapped, loyal Toothless could kill one of them.

He dug his hands on his auburn hair, tugging as he struggled with his guilt. He had gotten himself captured, ended up poisoned, caused his friends to chase all over the Archipelago and risk their lives to get him the cure, Berk had been attacked to kill him and the woman who loved him had set out to avenge him, losing her home and family in the process. And it was all for nothing because he was a worthless slave.

He slowly sat up, his shoulders slumped and his head bowed. His body felt heavy and the residual weakness of the Wine of Hela meant his stump still jabbed pain at odd times. His left hand, with the healing breaks in his fingers, was stiff and he wondered if he would ever regain what had been taken from him. If he would ever be able to look after himself or if he would always be a burden on others? He sighed and then reached under his bed, pulling out his old satchel, marked with the Berk crest then stared at the image. It was everything that was his birthright and yet he was no longer entitled to claim it. Slowly, he grasped the flask of water by his bed and stuffed it, his notebook and pencil, a couple of knives, spare cartridges for his Dragon Sword and a spare tunic into the satchel. Then he took a deep breath and strapped on his leg, biting down on his lip against the pain. Washed by guilt and a sudden feeling of relief and despair, he looked up-to meet the huge green eyes of the Night Fury, who was inspecting him worriedly.

"We gotta go," he sighed in a low voice. "If we stay here, Berk remains a target...and I am no longer worthy..." The Night Fury gave a small croon and quietly got to his feet, nuzzling his outstretched hand. Hiccup swallowed. "And I am sorry, Toothless-because I know that you would rather remain on Berk...but I can't. I-I just can't..."

The Night Fury licked Hiccup's hand as the young man grabbed his blanket and wrapped it around himself.

"I'm ready," he said and lowered himself to his knees, carefully strapping on the saddle and tail, which had been placed in his room. Pausing multiple times to listen and check his father was still snoring loudly, he finally managed to finish putting the saddle and tail assembly on. Levering himself up to his feet, he swung himself into the saddle and secured his satchel, then checked he was ready. Toothless gave a small whirr.

"Let's go," the young Viking said as they leapt up through the roof hatch and once they had carefully closed it, the Night Fury flapped off into the freezing night.

oOo

Stoick left early because there was a storm forecast and he wanted to assist the fishermen in getting out quickly to the fishing grounds and maximising the catches before the weather closed in. He and Skullcrusher, his Rumblehorn, helped tow the ships out quicker than the light winds could carry them-but it meant he was away and then Chiefing until mid-morning. And it was only then that he returned home-to find his son wasn't there. Puzzled, he headed for the Great Hall...and when no one had seen him, he began to really worry.

Finding the other Riders, he sternly asked them if they had seen his son-and when none of them had, he asked Fishlegs and Heather if they would check Hiccup's room. Usually, he would only have trusted Astrid but in her absence, he knew that Fishlegs was smart and a friend to his son and Heather was trusted by both Hiccup and Astrid. The verdict was stunning.

"He's gone," Fishlegs said. "His satchel, journal, blanket and sword are all gone."

Stoick staggered and his eyes widened in shock.

"Why?" he breathed. "He was safe here. He's still recuperating. Why would the dragon take him away from where he was safe?"

"Because Hiccup asked him to," Heather sighed. "Sir-he loves Hiccup as much as we do. And if Hiccup begged him to take him away, he would. Something has been playing on Hiccup's mind, sir. You saw him yesterday. Do you have any idea why?" Treacherously, the Chief's mind slid back to the image of his son, head bowed and expression despondent, fearing his friends would find out what had been done to him. He nodded.

"He needs his friends," he said. "And he needs you to be supportive and-and kind to him. He will explain, I am sure...but don't give him a hard time. Can you do that?" Fishlegs nodded.

"Assuming we can find him..." he said. Stoick gave a low chuckle.

"I'll ask Skullcrusher to track him for you," he said. "I can't leave Berk at this time, leaving the village without a Chief as well as his Heir and all the most experienced Riders. My friend will find my son for you. What happens then...is up to you." Drawing himself up in pride at the mission he had been given, Fishlegs nodded.

"You can rely on us, sir," he said and glanced over to Heather. She nodded.

"We won't let anything to happen to him," she promised as the Chief nodded.

"Good luck," he said. "And remind my son that I love him, will you?" They nodded.

"We promise, sir," Heather said as they sped down the stairs and out into the cool late morning. The wind was already getting up and the sea was a menacing grey-green, the whitecaps much more prominent as the fishing vessels trailed into port, making ready to lash up tight against the storm. Fishlegs squinted at the iron-grey skies.

"I can't see the twins and Snotlout lining up to volunteer to go out in this," he commented. "Hiccup knew what he was doing." Heather gently rested a hand on his arm.

"I'm not sure what Hiccup is thinking," she reminded the husky Rider. "You saw him yesterday. He's really upset and...and angry at everything he has had to endure. Something triggered him. Something that Tuff did..." Sighing, Fishlegs stopped.

"And that is going to be a problem," he admitted. "The twins have a real downer on Hiccup for that...even though we explained why Hiccup was so upset. Sometimes, they are complete muttonheads!"

"Who are muttonheads?" Snotlout asked, falling in step alongside them. "Oh-let me guess. The muttonhead twins?" Heather nodded. "They're in the Great Hall playing stack the chop." Heather rolled her eyes and muttered:

"Thor help me." But Fishlegs forged ahead, his face very focussed for once. Snotlout chuckled.

"This is going to be fun to watch," he commented. "Fancy a wager, Heather? I'll put two chickens on the twins to not listen to anything Fishface has to say." Heather stopped and glared at him.

"You're on," she said. "Because he needs all our help to go and find Hiccup. To save Hiccup." Snotlout stared at her in outrage.

"Hey-you never said anything about Hiccup!" he protested. "That's not fair-because you know we'll all do everything to help Hiccup!" Heather smirked.

"Should I tell him you said that?" she teased him.

"What? No! Maybe. Yes. Perhaps..."

"Was that a yes?"

"Shut up, Heather!"

The twins were camped on a table to one side of the Great Hall, a wobbling tower of Yak chops placed in the middle of the table with both twins holding yak chops ready to try to add them to the construction. Even Snotlout could see that any attempt to add anything more would cause a catastrophic collapse and he sped forward, ready to help collect the scattered chops. His mouth was visibly watering.

"Guys-we need to talk," Fishlegs said in a determined voice. The twins ignored him.

"Now, dear sister, we complete our epic architectural creation, the Leaning Tower of Chops!" Tuff announced.

"Indubitably, my dear brother Nut," Ruff added-and as one, they added their chops.

There was a moment where it looked as if they had balanced the entire structure...before the whole thing collapsed all over the table. Snotlout and Heather swooped in and grabbed a handful of chops while the twins looked outraged.

"Gettoff our food!" they protested and tried to snatch the chops back off Snotlout. An unseemly brawl broke out before Fishlegs slammed his fists on the table.

"ENOUGH!" he bellowed and everyone froze, looking up in shock at the husky Rider whose outbursts were rarer than Gobber actually singing in tune. "This is important! Hiccup has gone missing!"

Predictably, the twins both glared at him and resumed their seats, folding their arms in unison and sulking at the husky rider.

"Well, that's just great," Tuff said. "Because he should be coming here to apologise to me for punching me!"

"Yeah!" Ruff agreed. "No one punches my brother."

"Except you," Snotlout pointed out through his mouthful of yak chops. "I mean, you punch him all the time."

"And Astrid has punched him as well-fully deserved, by the way," Heather added.

"But Hiccup has never punched him!" Ruff protested.

"No, he just shouts at you-even when you had Snotlout hit him!" Fishlegs pointed out.

"Tuff-what were you doing to make him snap?" Heather asked.

"I just wanted to see his scars," Tuff huffed. "I mean, he's been tortured by Viggo and Krogan so they are going to be AWESOME..."

There was a shocked pause and even Tuff frowned, realising that every set of eyes was fixed on him-and most of them were disgusted.

"Not awesome?" he tried.

"Absolutely not awesome," Heather said sternly.

"How many times has Hiccup stepped up and been captured and interrogated as our leader?" Fishegs asked in an exasperated voice.

"Is this a trick question?" Ruff asked, frowning. "Well, there was that time when..."

"We don't need a list!" Snotlout snapped. Fishlegs looked at him in surprise. "Sorry. But we really don't. The poor guy has never hesitated to make sure they fixated on him and left us alone."

"How many times has Hiccup yelled at you for being idiots and then still come along and helped you do what you wanted to do?" Fishlegs asked. Ruff shrugged.

"About 98 times out of a hundred," she admitted.

"And the other two times?" Fishlegs pressed.

"If he hadn't stopped us, we would have been killed," Ruff admitted.

"Guys-what happened to Hiccup was horrible," Fishlegs reminded them. "You guys may have enjoyed all the explosions and blowing things up and fighting-but I helped Astrid look after him and he was incredibly badly hurt. He was poisoned and he almost died. We chased all over the Archipelago to get the ingredients to save him. And even then, we thought he would never wake. Can you imagine, if you'd been through all of that, suddenly having Tuff coming grabbing at your clothes and wanting to see the wounds you've taken? That you may not..let me think...FREAK?"

"But I only..." Tuff began but Ruff slapped him in the face.

"You and your scar obsession!" she snapped. "Hiccup is our best friend. He's helped us all. No matter how crazy we are, he always has patience. He recognises our genius. He even shows occasional signs of coming over to the dark side and following Loki in some of his crazy plans! What you did hurt him."

"Hey-he hurt me!" Tuff protested. "He punches harder than anyone else here-even Astrid. Ask Snotlout-he's been punched by both of them. And Thor's mighty hammer completed laid out the Snotman!"

"Shut up, Tuffnut," Snotlout grumped.

"It was more than that," Heather said quietly. "He is really struggling. He's angry and hurt and...scared." She rubbed her arm self-consciously. "I can recognise it."

"He thinks he's lost everything," Fishlegs murmured. "I mean, Astrid has left...which we understand...but the rest..."

"Unless there was something else," Heather murmured. "Something that Tuff could see which would lose him his friends..." She looked over at Fishlegs. "You think they branded him?"

There was another silence.

"OOOH! Now that would definitely be AWES...why are you all staring at me?" Tuff exclaimed. "Not awesome either?"

"Definitely not," Fishlegs sighed. "If they branded him, he loses everything-his position as Heir, the tribe, his very freedom..."

"You mean number two may become...number one?" Snotlout asked thoughtfully. Heather glared at him.

"Ugh! I cannot believe that Hiccup has been so badly wounded and our friend is in real pain and distress-and you just think about yourself!" she said in disgust.

"Hey!" Snotlout snapped."I never said I wanted to. I mean, my Dad is obsessed with me taking over from Hiccup-because he has an inferiority complex about his relationship with the Chief and would love nothing more than to supplant Stoick's son with his own as Heir. but the truth is-no one in their right mind would take tactical or political advice from a man who goes down to the docks and bludgeons himself over the head competitively for fun! I never wanted to be Heir-I mean, I've watched Hiccup for years and quite frankly, it looks like far too much work! It would really cut into my beauty sleep. And I may not be good enough to remember all those laws and Treaties and not fall asleep when I'm meant to be being diplomatic. But mainly because I am a Jorgensen and our job is to keep the Haddocks in order, to challenge them and stop them getting too big for their boots. But could you imagine a Tribe with me in charge? I would move out."

Everyone stared at him again.

"That-that is the most remarkably cogent, insightful and frank response I have ever heard you give," Fishlegs stuttered. Snotlout punched him in the shoulder.

"My brain is hurting now so that ain't gonna happen again for another decade or so," he said. "And if you tell Hiccup I said that, I will deny it and get Hookfang to incinerate you."

"And he's back," Ruff grinned. There was a sob and Tuff was lying with his face on the table.

"That was beautiful!" he sniffed. "And I suddenly feel that we should give little Hiccy another chance. Shame on you, brazen hussy, for refusing to contemplate forgiveness for our poor, traumatised leader!"

"Hey! It was you refused to ever forgive him for hitting you!" Ruff snarked back. In a second, yak chops were flying and punches were being traded. Chicken squawked in distress and fluttered under the table as the other three sat down, grabbed a few chops and waited for the twins to finish their 'discussion'. Heather swallowed.

"These are good," she admitted. "So as soon as the twins finish their discussion, we round up the dragons and then we go after Hiccup."