Two: The Wine of Hela

The journey home was fraught, for the fortress has been remote and they knew they needed to get him back to Berk, for his injuries needed Gothi. Hiccup had passed out once they had taken off, pain and exhaustion overcoming what little strength he had left and Astrid had cradled his broken body in her arms, feeling him shockingly light. He was tall, his long shape cuddled to her but it was no burden-because Hiccup would never be a burden. When she became his girlfriend, when she became his Betrothed, she accepted him-all of him, including his unerring ability to get into trouble and his propensity for surrendering to save his friends. And she loved him fiercely.

The journey was largely silent because her frayed patience had run out long before they were anywhere near halfway home and even the twins and Snotlout had shut up as the furious blonde had yelled at them. But no one argued with her authority, because they were all concerned. Heather remained close and Dagur on Sleuther was flying alongside Stormfly, his eyes drifting over to the unconscious shape. He had tried to kill Hiccup so many times before he had made his peace with his demons and now to see the auburn-haired viking so wounded made the Berserker feel ashamed. And he could read Astrid's white-hot fury and despair as she cradled her Betrothed on the long flight.

But he was mumbling and delirious long before the jagged shape of Berk was finally in sight, after a trip that had pushed the Riders to their limit. As ever, they flew at the pace of their slowest rider-FIshlegs on Meatlug-because they needed each other and though his dragon was slow, his knowledge of botany and basic healing was essential. But when they had short breaks to allow the dragons a brief respite and everyone to stretch their limbs and get some food, Astrid remained with Hiccup, holding his burning hand and staring into the battered face.

"How is he?" she asked in a low voice as she dripped water over his cracked lips, seeing his throat work as he swallowed. There were bruises there, marks of hands and certainly a collar that made her want to turn away in anger. Fishlegs sighed.

"Not getting any better," he admitted. "The fever is worrying, to be honest. There is no evidence of festering in his wounds-though they are all very severe, by the way." She grimaced and nodded, her eyes softening at the thought. And then she blinked and her mask was back up, the ferocious warrior protecting her chief, not the girl screaming in anguish at the wounds to her lover.

"What are you saying?" she asked him and the husky dragon rider sighed.

"They had him for a long period of time and they used everything at their disposal to make him talk," he said carefully. "There is evidence that they beat him, whipped and cut and burnt him. They used acid-probably Changewing acid-and some of the marks on him are very like dragon claws or spines." He took a shuddering breath. "They used parts of dragons to torture him with, Astrid. The man who loves dragons was broken to pieces using the creatures he protects."

She closed her eyes because tears were burning at that moment and one escaped, sliding down her cheek.

"And he'd do it again," she said hoarsely. "Because he's Hiccup and he's an idiot."

"Dragons also have venom," Fishlegs added quietly. "Some are very poisonous. And it's likely dragon hunters would have more practical experience of dragon venoms than we would. They...they could have poisoned him..." She rested a hand against his cheek, feeling the boggy swelling where his cheek was broken and absently noting how hot his skin was.

"They never meant for us to get him back," she murmured. "They were going to kill him when we arrived. And they made sure even if we did rescue him...he wouldn't survive."

"Gothi is the oldest and wisest healer in the Archipelago," Fishlegs told her with absolute confidence. "She will know what to do." And then Astrid looked up, the faintest hint of defeat in her clear azure gaze.

"And what if there is nothing to do?" she asked quietly. "Some venoms have no cure...Scauldron for example... So what if this is one of them? What if the only thing we can do is bring him home to die?" She swallowed. "What can I say to the Chief?"

"He trusted you to lead the mission to rescue him, Astrid," the other rider reminded her, his kindly eyes seeing her distress. "He knew you would do everything and more to bring his son back. You cannot undo what has been done. You can only rescue him and let others use their skills to save him." He swallowed. "And if there is nothing more that can be done, the Chief will still thank you for allowing him to be with his son at the end." She scrambled to her feet.

"I won't let it end like this," she said angrily. "He deserves more. He deserves everything! And I will make sure he gets it!" She looked around her weary friends and their wearier dragons. "Wings up in five! We have to get Hiccup home!"

oOo

The horns sounded as they swooped in over the Plaza and the A Team flew an escort for the leader of all the Dragon Riders of Berk as they came in to land. The huge, flaming-haired shape of Stoick came racing out, all thoughts of his dignity forgotten with Gobber limping alongside his concerned friend. And the desolate shape of Toothless came barrelling out as well, his eyes locked on the Nadder as she landed. Stoick was at her side in a second, his arms outstretched for the young man swathed in blankets.

"Give him here, lass," he said gruffly, his sharp eyes noting his son's limp shape damp with sweat and eyes closed. Reluctantly, Astrid handed him over and watched with a lump in her throat as the great Chief cradled his son like a child, tenderly resting his head against the chest to hear the galloping heartbeat and wincing at the scorching fever. Then he looked up. "Thank you, Astrid," he said softly. "Thank you for bringing my son home."

Toothless crooned and nudged Hiccup but the young man remained limp and unresponsive, his hand not moving to caress the distraught Night Fury. Big green eyes swung up to look at the Chief and the huge Viking gave a sympathetic nod.

"It's alright, Toothless-he'll be right as rain soon," he said with an assurance he didn't feel. "We'll get him to Gothi and she'll sort him out, no doubt!" But Astrid remained sitting on her dragon long after the others had scattered to see their families, after Stoick and Gobber had taken Hiccup to Gothi's hut high on the sea-stack outside the village and after the A Team had resumed their patrol. The Deadly Nadder shifted under her and gave a low croak, dragging her mind back to the present. Wearily, she leapt down and patted the dragon.

"You're right, girl," she said with a forced smile. "Let's get this saddle off you and then we can feed you. And maybe...I can visit my parents, before I go up to check on Hiccup." Trilling in concern, Stormfly nudged her and she sighed. "OK, maybe I can visit my parents after I have checked up on Hiccup," she conceded.

oOo

The hut was cool and dim, the fire in the fire pit bright and throwing out a deeply scented smoke as the pot boiled. Gothi stirred the mixture with a frown, then poured herself a cup of tea. There were the shuffling of feet and the creak of very heavy bodies trying not to crush the crude stools they were sitting on as Stoick and Gobber waited with almost no patience at all.

"Mebbe I could go and see what the old baggage is up to," Gobber offered but Stoick laid a heavy hand on his shoulder to restrain him.

"You know she hit you three times over the head to make you leave," he remained the blacksmith and the two-limbed man grimaced.

"Ornery as a hundred year old goat," he grumbled. "And half as pretty."

"But the best healer around," Stoick reminded his friend with relief. He had faith in Gothi who was smart, incredibly knowledgeable and stubborn-all of which seemed to be excellent traits for a healer. Unusually, the old woman had shooed them out immediately when they had brought in the battered shape of Hiccup and she had turned to her task immediately-and in private. Suspecting she must have picked up something that really concerned her, Stoick hadn't argued-as he would usually-because there was something about her manner that was worried. And usually, nothing scared Gothi.

They looked up as the door opened and the familiar lithe shape of Astrid walked in, her trusty axe still slung across her back. It was clear she hadn't rested or eaten since her return but Gothi poked her head round the doorway when she heard the door to her hut open and grinned, silently pointing to the unoccupied seat and hobbling to the pot, giving it another stir and then scooping out a big bowlful of fish stew, which she gave to Astrid with a wink. Obediently, the girl began to eat, her eyes flicking up to the hanging rug that separated the room where Hiccup was being treated from the main part of the wooden shack. Gobber sniffed and then gave a growl.

"And yer couldnae ha' offered us a bite as well?" he grumbled. Gothi grabbed her staff, scowled and scratched a few symbols on the floor. Stoick frowned.

"What does she say?" he asked. He had never got the hang of Gothi's language but he knew Gobber, Fishlegs and his son could all read her runes.

"She says the stew is for the lass because she knew that Astrid would come straight here to her beloved without caring for herself-so she would care for Astrid as well," she said. Gothi scratched another couple of symbols and underlined them. "Oh-and she knew the lazy good-for-nothing Gobber would eat the lot before she arrived if he knew. Hey!" Stoick chuckled. The Elder was ornery but she was very fond of Gobber, as she was of the Chief himself. Eating rapidly, Astrid smiled at the wizened old woman.

"Thank you, Gothi," she said. "How is he?"

There was a silent moment and then she beckoned all the concerned family forward, bringing them in to see him. Toothless was already curled by the bed, refusing to leave his Rider and blaming himself that he had been taken down and Hiccup had been hurt as a result. The black dragon was watching Hiccup very closely and Gothi limped in, a sorrowful look in her squinting gaze. She tossed some sand on the floor and began to explain, the scratch of her staff loud in the silence, only punctuated by Hiccup's raspy breaths. Gobber peered at the symbols and translated.

"He is dying," he read. There was a pause. "That can't be right..." Gothi hit him with her staff irritably. For a man who was a Council Elder of Berk, Gobber was really bad at trusting the Elder. She scratched some more.

"Please-what is she saying?" Astrid asked, her voice stricken.

"He has been tortured," Gobber read, his voice somber. "He has many wounds-some he would not want you to see, which is why I treated him in private." There was a pause and she smoothed out the symbols and began scratching once more. "But he has been whipped, cut, burnt, beaten, cauterised with acid, branded..." There was a pause.

"Branded?" Stoick's voice was stricken. Gothi nodded.

"There is a Hunter brand on his chest," Gobber read. Closing his eyes, the Chief groaned.

"Gods," he murmured.

"He must have endured unimaginable pain," Gobber read, his voice thick with emotion. "I cannot tell you all they did to hurt him. But it was horrible." His eyes flicked up to Astrid, her face white with horror. "He's still the man you knew-they haven't taken anything more than his freedom, lass. And quite a lot of blood..." He swallowed. "But he is feverish and his breathing is becoming difficult."

"They branded him," Stoick whispered. "My son. My boy. They...how dare they enslave him?"

"They are just animals," Astrid said. "They destroy intelligent, gentle creatures for profit. They kill without thought. Why would they not see human life as just another commodity?"

"But he's my son!" Stoick raged, his face growing red. He let out a furious roar that echoed across the village, stopping the riders in their tracks. Every eye turned towards Gothi's hut and as one, they excused themselves from their families and headed to find out what had happened to their leader.

"Stoick-no one need ever know," Gobber offered, resting his hand on the Chief's arm. Stoick was furious and devastated.

"They know!" he ground out. "They have taken his place as Heir, his very identity. They have made him property, not a Viking of Berk! And he is my son!"

"And my Betrothed..." Astrid reminded him sternly, her eyes resting on the battered shape. Quietly, she took his hand, heavily bandaged, and crouched at his side, lifting the hand to her lips. The skin was impossibly hot, heavy and without any sign of life. His eyes were deeply shadowed but closed and his face flushed with fever. Now she understood why Gothi had dressed him in a loose shirt-to hide his shame and she closed her eyes, allowing tears to slip down her face. "It doesn't matter, Hiccup," she whispered. "I love you. There will always be a Hiccup and Astrid. So you hold on-because we will make it right. I will make it right."

"After torture like this-so brutal for so long-he may well not be the same man you know, even if he survives and no one finds out about the brand," Gobber murmured, his saddened blue gaze sweeping over the skinny shape. Helping to raise Hiccup had made him love the young man like a son and Gobber's curmudgeonly old heart was broken to see him so wounded.

"Hiccup is strong," Astrid said with conviction. "He never broke." Gothi scowled at them, pointing at the symbols she had scratched, unnoticed, on the floor.

"But after an experience this brutal...well, it changes a man," the Chief agreed. "And with the knowledge of what they have done to him, what they have taken...he probably won't be the Hiccup we know."

Exasperated, Gothi swung her staff and caught both Stoick and Gobber across the face. Both men yelped and clutched at the points of impact, muttering curses.

"OW! I'm the Chief, you know!"

"Ornery old yak! Ye didnae need tae do that!"

"Chief...I think she wants you to look at the symbols!" Astrid pointed out, her hand still clasped around Hiccup's, her fingers feeling the breaks in his and cringing inwardly that those clever, dexterous hands were so damaged. Rubbing his ear, which was stinging from the clout of Gothi's staff, Gobber peered at the symbols-and then his eyes widened.

"Um...Stoick...she says that he has been poisoned," he read.

"What?" The Chief's voice was loud in the sudden silence.

"The Wine of Hela," Gobber read with mounting horror. "A poison derived from three dragon venoms, likely to take his life within seven moons of today."

"Is there a cure?" Stoick asked, his eyes boring into the old woman's gaze. She paused and nodded. She scratched again.

"But no one knows what it is," she wrote as Astrid's heart plummeted in despair. "It may be documented in the records on Frost Isle...but no one has looked there for over two hundred years...and it's a long way away by ship..."

"But far less by dragon," Stoick pointed out. "Astrid-can you round up the Riders and bring them here?" There was a pause and she shook her head.

"No," she said quietly, already hearing what she had expected. "They've already come." The door opened and the Riders entered, unusually quiet and somber as they glimpsed their felled leader. Snotlout paled and Fishlegs looked ill. Heather's hand found Dagur's and the Berserker Chief quietly stared at the beaten shape.

"How is he?" he asked as the Chief shook his head.

"He's dying," he managed in a gruff whisper. "Viggo poisoned him."

"There must be a cure right?" Snotlout put in, his eyes trailing to his cousin. "I mean, he wouldn't use a poison that he didn't have an antidote to. What if he accidentally scratched himself?"

"Oooh-I know the answer to that one!" Tuff offered before his twin slapped her hand over his mouth.

"Sorry," she said. "He doesn't handle sickness well..."

"The recipe to the cure may be on Frost Isle," Astrid said calmly, her eyes never leaving the flushed face of her Betrothed. "Fishlegs, we need you and Heather on this mission. You can decipher the cure." There was the thump of a staff on the wooden floor. "And you'll need to take Gothi," she added, seeing the old woman scowl. "I guess that means Gobber will be acting as Healer until she gets back..."

"Thor help us," Stoick muttered.

"Twins-you and Snotlout go with them to make sure they get safely there-and more importantly, safely back with the cure." Then she paused. "Chief-I need you and Dagur to use every contact, every favour you have to try to find a clue to this poison-and where Viggo and Krogan are." Brows dipping in a frown, Stoick looked at her.

"You seem to have a plan, Astrid-but I haven't heard what you will be doing while we find the cure?"

Finally, she looked up, her eyes hard as ice, her face set.

"I am going after Viggo and Krogan," she said. "They did this to Hiccup. It's never happening again." They stared at her, hearing the cold in her voice.

"Astrid?" the Chief asked. Finally, she rose from her crouch, Hiccup's scalding hand still held tenderly in hers.

"It's never happening again," she repeated. "Because I'm going to end them all."