"Bored now," Snotlout announced from his seat by the fire in the little tavern the squires had found. It was a meagre place with thick walls, unkept thatched roof and plentiful but poor quality ale, yet it commanded a clear and unobstructed view of the main road south from Bazerk and had sufficient stabling and rooms for the errant apprentice knights. Dogsbreath looked up from where he was arm-wrestling Halvard and scowled.

"I'm not," he commended, winning again. "We can wait here all week for all I care. There's mead, good food and hospitality...what more could we want?"

"Who's watching the road?" Thuggory asked from the corner, where he was wagering with Knut over a deck of cards.

"Derek and Ulf?" Snotlout asked. "This was your idea...otherwise I would have asked Fishface and the twins..." There was a pause and Thuggory slowly got to his feet.

"I think that they didn't come this way-or they were intercepted," he said gravely, looking at the relaxed squires across the room. "And if they were intercepted...they would be sent north...towards Count Drago..."

"Meaning we're in the wrong place?" Snotlout huffed, rolling his eyes. "So let me get this right. We have to ride across Bazerk, avoiding the Berserker patrols and get to the north road to Nordlund assuming they haven't already passed...?" Thuggory nodded. "Well, that should be straightforward."

"Except Dagur is insane and hostile to everyone and is rumoured to make his prisoners fight to the death in the arena," he snapped back. Snotlout folded his arms.

"Not my problem," he sneered. "I can take anyone here."

"But can you take anyone there?" Thuggory retorted. He looked around the room and the unwilling-and in some cases, completely inebriated-shapes. "Okay-wake the others up. We need to move and intercept the Princess before we lose her forever..."

"Do we have to go now?" Snotlout whined, resuming his padded seat and inching closer to the roaring fire. "It's nearly Dinner! We'll wait for stew and pudding and then maybe we can head out and see if we can find her."

Thuggory glared at the senior squire: by the time they had eaten, almost all of them would be drunken and unfit to ride...and it would already be dark and cold and all sensible men would hunker down for the night, avoiding wild beasts and lawlessmen. Their departure would have to wait until after breakfast tomorrow. And in the meantime, it could already be too late-for Astrid and for their chances of ever becoming knights.

oOo

Stoick rode along after his son, watching the tall, skinny shape ride with a skill and precision he recognised from long years of hard practice. His instinctive style had Fury galloping up the main road north and Stoick was having to work hard to keep up. And honestly, he was kicking himself for not recognising his son immediately but he had stopped paying attention to the men in the arena; stopped looking at the faces of the men he would kill and he had paid little heed to the skinny young man, save that he had killed  his first opponent reluctantly. And Stoick had not expected to see his son, because he had been told he was dead, executed by his former Liege after Stoick's disappearance.

But it was clear time had not been kind to Hiccup, for he was thinner than he should be and there were more bruises and wounds on the young man than he would expect. His auburn hair was thicker and shaggier than he recalled but the emerald eyes were as bright and intelligent, though wary and shadowed with hurt. And he had no sword, pack or equipment, seeming to be dressed in a borrowed tunic and leggings. And no back up, no one waiting for him.

"Son?" he called and pulled the huge red charger alongside. The Commander was referring to him as 'Crusher' since he trampled his way through all obstacles-including two gatemen who had been foolish enough to try to get in his way-and curiously, the ferocity of the charger had been easier to deal with than his son's single-mindedness. "Hiccup?"

The young man inclined his head to inspect his father, emerald eyes shadowed. He was desperately trying not to mentally address the fact that his father, who he had mourned and missed every single second since he vanished, was alive. That the great Commander had survived and escaped, sparing his life. That he would have to own up to how hopelessly he had failed as an apprentice knight and a son. And as a protector of the Princess, in allowing her to be taken. Eret had much of a day's head start and he was riding straight and fast awards his master-and Hiccup knew he stood no hope of catching up...on his own. So he was heading to the east and the road into the Dragon Forest, hoping against hope that a certain black dragon would help him do what Toothless could not for himself and save his female.

"HICCUP!"

He jumped, eyes guiltily drifting back to his father. The Commander was inspecting him furiously and was insisting he slowed down and as he could feel Fury straining, he let the stallion drop to a walk as Stoick pulled in front of him.

"Son? What's wrong?" his father demanded, his tone imperious and booming-every bit as he had recalled, though a little gruffer from infrequent use. He completely missed the concern in the grey-green eyes and instead stared ahead along the road.

"Astrid is on her way to Count Drago with that treacherous slime, Eret," Hiccup said shortly. "Our Heir-who I promised to protect-is almost lost." Stoick ket him in his laser-like glare.

"Where are the others, son?" he asked.

"Others?"

"The squires? The knights?"

After me to drag me back and execute me for supposedly kidnapping her.

"There are no others," the son said tonelessly.

"But your brothers-in-arms should be here when..."

"When WHAT?" Hiccup snapped, eyes flicking up to meet the confused look. "When the Princess rode off after Eret hunting? When she was kidnapped by Alvin de Traitre? When she needed rescuing from Outcast or Reaper or Bazerk? Or maybe when the King declared you a traitor and failure for vanishing with secret letters and gold which you definitely must have handed over to the enemy and thus betrayed him...? And then when I was declared without honour and family, when I was expelled from the squires for your disgrace, when I was condemned to the drudges without  a word of complaint from my supposed brothers-in-arms?"

Stoick stared at him, jaw dropping open as he took a couple of shaky breaths, his mouth working soundlessly.

"Hiccup?" he breathed.

"Yeah-I am a failure," the young man said angrily. "I'm not a squire, not an apprentice, not the son you raised or hoped would carry on the Haddock family honour, Dad. I'm an imposter! The only reason why I was here was that I was so desperate to be given a scrap of hope beyond my miserable existence that when Thuggory Tete de Carne asked me to ride out in his place in payment for supporting my right to take the Tests, I agreed. And then the squires and knights were so drunk-thanks to Eret-that they failed to protect Astrid."

"Wait...they got drunk?" Stoick growled, eyes narrowing. "Who would allow...?"

"The Captain of the Guard," Hiccup told him bitterly. "Your brother. And the leading apprentice-his son."

There was a sudden silence, save the creak of Stoick's knuckles tightening.

"Spitelout is in charge-and he allowed you to be dishonoured and expelled to get his son your position?" he growled. Hiccup wheeled his horse away.

"Yup. Sorry. I'm not good enough to be a squire or a protector of the Heir as we all swore...or even be believed by someone I  trusted," he said tightly, the pain at that betrayal leaking into his bitter voice. "But I promised I would protect her, even if taking her back will cost me my neck..."

Stoick reached over and grabbed his arm, his bushy brows dipping.

"What the Helheim has been going on?" he demanded and Hiccup stared at him, then wrenched his arm away.

"I told you," he said bitterly. "I think Thuggory used me so he could spend the day with some women instead of doing his duty-and when Astrid went missing, he and Snot will have blamed me for the abduction. King Harild has a price on my head so when I bring his daughter back safe and sound, he'll kill me for pretending to be a squire." He turned away. "You should have remained dead, Dad. At least then you didn't have to find out what a complete failure I am." And he kicked Fury hard and galloped off up the track.

"You're my son and I am always proud of you," Stoick murmured, then kicked Crusher to gallop after Fury.

But Hiccup had accelerated up ahead, leaning low over the horse's neck, eyes wet with tears. His entire life, he had tried not to fail his father and had done everything possible to be the best that he could be, but he had miraculously found Stoick alive-just as he was defeated in the arena, the Princess was lost and he was utterly dishonoured. Thor, his father wouldn't even let him kill Dagur to avenge his wrongs. If there was any other way he could show his son he didn't trust him...

So he ignored Stoick's shouts and rode as hard as he could up the road, trying to ignore the burning in his heart and the heavy mantle of hopelessness on his shoulders. He only had one option-and it was so crazy he was sure his father would disown him for even contemplating it.

And up ahead, the line of trees of the Dragon Forest slowly grew darker amid the drizzle and mist.

Stoick thundered after his son, the words rolling around his head. It was obvious the young man felt incredibly badly that he had failed his father-even though, from what Stoick could gather, he had no options. It seemed his own brother and nephew, far from supporting the orphaned boy, had stolen his position and cast him aside, persuading the King to believe that Stoick was a traitor and dishonouring his beloved son.

But he had heard the Princess shout at Hiccup the previous day and the brief glimpse he had stolen had shown the young man was crushed by her words...even though he hadn't been listening closely enough to catch the actual conversation. He galloped after his son and saw the black stallion slow and wheel to the right, cantering down the slope and across the heathland to the forest's edge. And then the young man stopped and jumped from the saddle.

He screamed, a shout composed of utter frustration and despair...before he collapsed to his knees, his head bowed and shoulders slumped. Stoick walked Crusher up alongside Fury and then jumped to the ground and crouched down by his son. Quietly, he rested his hand on the bowed shoulder.

"Son-I wish you would tell me what is hurting you," he said gently.

"I-I'm so sorry Dad," he said quietly. "I'm a failure as your son-disgraced, just a useless drudge, not a squire or man of honour. I have failed the Princess and let her be taken to Drago. I...I..."

Stoick stood, pulling the young man to his feet then lifting his bowed chin and looking-really looking-into the shamed and despairing emerald eyes. Hiccup was battered and bruised, his sharp jaw and pale skin reminiscent of his dead and much-missed wife.

"Son-you did all you could," he said calmly. "You are my son-brave, determined, honourable. You protected the Princess when all those who should failed her, didn't you?" There was the slightest, shamed nod. "And you rescued her from Outcast and Reaper?" Another nod. "And had the lass not forgotten that you were loyal, I am sure you wold have come up with some crazy plan to rescue her."

"But you..." He sighed and tried not to sound petulant. "You wouldn't let me kill Dagur, Dad. You sent me away..."

"Because you are better than that," Stoick told him honestly. "You haven't killed except in battle, against enemies of our King. You haven't executed someone in cold blood. I have-more than I should. You aren't a killer, Hiccup. You're a brave squire and you will be a fine knight. I don't want you to have the memory of an unarmed, helpless man staring up into your face, knowing he is about to be killed in cold blood-at your hand..." He stopped and took a slow breath. "I am proud of you, son. I will always be proud of you. And I am so sorry I failed you."

The emerald eyes filled with confusion.

"You didn't, Dad," Hiccup said softly. "I just wasn't good enough..." Stoick tightened his grasp on his son's shoulders.

"No one is better," he told his son sternly. "The fact that you went to save the Princess when the others failed her just proves that, title or not, you are a knight." And he closed his arms around his son, feeling the skinny arms wrap around his bulky shape.

"I'm glad you're alive, Dad," Hiccup admitted, hugging his father tightly.

"Me too," Stoick admitted gruffly. "Now tell me your plan." Hiccup lifted his head and stared into the amused and proud eyes.

"Um...you may think it is completely crazy-but you have to trust me, Dad-and do exactly what I ask you to do. Please? Promise?" His father nodded.

"I promise," he said. Hiccup gulped and swiped his face dry.

"I do have a friend...um...sort of...and I am really hoping he will give us a chance to get Astrid back..." he said self-consciously. His father nodded.

"I trust you, son," Stoick said gruffly. Hiccup walked quietly to the edge of the forest, looking deep into the gloom beneath the trees and took a shuddering breath.

"SHARPSHOT! SNEAKY! GUYS-I NEED YOUR HELP!"

His voice echoed through the damp forest, the eerie silence interrupted only by the drip of water from branches, the faint trickle of water in the streams and the stamp of Crusher, impatiently turning to Fury as the horses nickered. Stoick's eyes swept over his son and saw the bony shoulders slump, the auburn head dipping in resignation.

And then there was a chitter, the slightly leathery flapping of wings and a shape like a large bird appeared from the misty gloom-and resolved into the outline of a green dragon with curious large eyes and a goofy expression that slammed into Hiccup's chest. The auburn head snapped up and Hiccup's arms carefully prised the dragon off his chest and stared into its yellow eyes, seeing the creature casually lick its own left eyeball.

"Hiccup-is that a dragon?" the Commander asked in a surprised voice. There was a pause and Hiccup turned to face him, a relieved smile on his pale face.

"Sharpshot is a Terrible Terror," Hiccup explained cheerfully. "I met him and my other friend after we escaped from the Hunters. And while we cannot hope to catch Eret and the Princess just by riding after them, there are quicker means."

"That's a dragon," Stoick repeated, eyes wide. "So they do still exist. I-I heard rumours but..." Hiccup grinned and stared at the Terrible Terror.

"Sharpshot...get Toothless!" he said earnestly, staring into the acid yellow eyes. "Fetch Toothless!" But the little dragon had barely leapt into the air when a roar echoed through the forest and Stoick grasped for his sword. Hiccup spun and grabbed his wrist in both hands: it was like trying to move a rock. "Dad-put the sword down. Now!" The roar echoed again and the irregular sound of wings flapped in the gloom overhead. "Seriously-NOW!" Forcing himself to trust the young man who was his son, Stoick resheathed his sword and stepped back as a large black shape dropped in front of the men, wings unfurled and head lowered.

"Thor and Odin, protect me now," the Commander breathed as his son spun to face the black, smooth dragon and walked forward, offering his palm to the beast. There was a pause and then the dragon gave a small croon and pressed his nose into the young man's hand. Stoick reeled and backed off a pace as his son grinned. "Hiya, bud. Glad to see you because I really really need your help." The dragon folded his wings and sat down, his pupils dilating to make his eyes look wide and inoffensive.

"Hiccup?" Stoick murmured.

"Bud, you remember Astrid? The girl with me?" There was a croon and the dragon gave a gummy smile. "She's in trouble, bud. They've taken her north." There was a small warble. "Is there any way you can help me and my Dad to catch them up?" The dragon looked at the huge man and then his ears pricked. He nudged Hiccup and turned to begin to gallop into the forest, before pausing and looking over his shoulder.

"I think he wants us to follow," Hiccup said, heading back for Fury.

"But...that's a dragon..." Stoick murmured. Hiccup nodded, swinging into the saddle.

"Yes, that is a Night Fury, the most dangerous and rare of dragons," he replied quickly, wheeling Fury around. The spirited stallion whinnied urgently. "I found him in Reaper, imprisoned and condemned to be slaughtered for spare parts. He was hurt. And I promised to set him free. A knight protects the weak and helpless. So I freed him-and he saved the Princess and I, then helped us get away. He became my friend..."

Stoick found himself in the saddle, cantering Crusher after his son, though he was really running on autopilot. His brain was overflowing with the intelligence he had learned and the knowledge that his absence had allowed others to disgrace and damage his son. Rage boiled in his gut that his own brother, Spitelout, should abandon and treat his son so badly when Stoick knew in the same situation, he would care for his son's boy as if he were his own. And the bruises and wounds his son bore made him feel ashamed-for Hiccup was a brave a decent young man who did not deserve what had happened.

But Princess Astrid was in peril-and the Commander knew he was duty bound to rescue her-and if his son could help them catch up with the servants of Count Drago, then all the better. And the change when Hiccup saw the dragon had been astonishing: his eyes and face had lit up with hope once more and Stoick realised he hated seeing his son almost crushed. He trusted his son, because Hiccup had survived, despite everything he had suffered and had protected the Princess through an astonishing odyssey. He leaned forward as they rounded a bend in the path and slowed as they arrived in a wide, level clearing with a flat wall of rock to one side with a large cave in it. The dragon landed and gave a satisfied whirring noise before letting out a small roar.

Hiccup leapt from the saddle and soothed Fury before grabbing Crusher's reins and holding him steady for his father to dismount. Stoick smiled at his son, recalling when his son-his squire-would perform this duty for him every time they returned home to Berk Castle.

"Thank you, son," he said gruffly and for a moment, Hiccup felt a warm wash of familiarity and relief before he nodded.

"My honour, Sir Stoick," he replied automatically before Stoick moved to stand in front of him, resting a paternal hand on his shoulder. He stared deep into the bright emerald eyes.

"It's 'Dad', Hiccup," he reminded his son gently. "Thor, I can't believe you are still alive but I thank Odin for that fact. When they told me you had died, been slain because I failed to return I felt such grief, such pain, such hopelessness..." His voice almost cracked and he forced a small smile onto his face. "Losing you was...unbearable..." The younger man nodded, managing a wan smile.

"I missed you, Dad," he said gruffly. "And I felt so ashamed I had let you down. I mean, you would never have let yourself be disgraced and forced to be a mere drudge in the castle! You would have fought, would have forced them to acknowledge your honour. But no one listened to me-and Gobber was forbidden to speak. You were dishonoured, I was disgraced and expelled and the Haddock name was ruined. And it was all my fault." Stoick hugged him strongly.

"Son, others did this, gained advancement at the expense of you and I," he said softly. "We will regain our honour. And free the Princess." Hiccup briefly rested his head against his father's shoulder and closed his eyes.

"Thanks, Dad," he murmured. "I'm really really glad you're here..." And then he pulled away to see Toothless looking curiously at him. The dragon crooned gently and the young man crouched before the bowed head. "Bud-we need to get north..." He gestured. "Astrid is in trouble..."

Toothless tilted his head then gave a roar. There were answering roars and the sounds of flapping coming closer. Hiccup looked up, his face confused and then his expression cleared as four large dragons landed behind them. A large, long-necked red and brown dragon with horns and wings that seemed to double as front limbs; a blue and gold bird-like dragon with beaky snout and a frill behind its head; a green two-necked dragon and a brown lumpy dragon with small pointed ears, small wings and a dog-like face.

"Toothless?" Hiccup asked and the dragon gave a small croon, then lowered his head and presented his neck and shoulders to the young imposter. "You want me to get on, bud?" The dragon nodded and cautiously, Hiccup walked up and threw his leg over the dragon's neck, tightening his thighs on the dragon's neck to hold himself in place. "Doesn't feel amazingly safe, by the way..." he muttered as his father stared at him.

"Son? What are you doing?" he asked warily.

"Apparently, riding a dragon," he replied and looked up at his father. The red and brown dragon made a grumbling noise and walked towards Stoick, growling as the man kept his hand on his sword. "Dad-hand off the sword..."

"Oh, sorry..." the Commander said and obviously lifted his hands away. The red and brown dragon rolled his acid-yellow eyes and lowered his neck, his face unimpressed. He made a small growling noise but Toothless gave a reassuring croon and the the unenthusiastic red-and-brown dragon almost shrugged but pointedly wagged his shoulder, inviting Stoick to climb on. "Son?"

"Dad-I think he wants you to climb on..."

"He doesn't look too keen," Stock noted and Hiccup grinned at the dragon's expression. It was almost as if the dragon was saying 'if you must...'

"But he's still offering...even though he's never been ridden before and you are a large guy..."

"Is that a crack about my weight?" Stoick asked though there was a twinkle in his eye. For a moment, Hiccup felt a surge of relief and familiarity: his father had always been sensitive about his physique-especially alongside his scrawny son. It was as if he had never been gone.

"Not even thinking it!" his son teased him, grinning broadly. "Though I know Toothless is laughing at your dragon..." Stoick patted the red and brown dragon warily then swung his leg over the neck and sat uncomfortably, holding onto the slightly crooked horns for stability.

"Why would you call him 'Toothless' anyway?" Stoick called as the dragon shuffled from side to side. "Easy, dragon," he added a trifle nervously.

"Retractable teeth," Hiccup grinned, instinctively leaning forwards on the Night Fury's neck. "You okay, bud?" The dragon gave a small grumble. "I think he wants you to give your dragon a name, Dad. I mean, calling him 'dragon' is a bit unfriendly."

"Unfriendly?" Stoick repeated, his knuckles whitening. "This overgrown lizard is wiggling around like a horse that's about to buck and..." Hiccup gave him a stern look. "Okay! I accept that you know more about this than I do, son." He sighed and looked at the dragon, his eyes falling on the mouthful of fearsome teeth. "Hookfang? How does that sound, dragon?" The orange and brown dragon gave a sniggering noise and Stoick sighed again. "Satisfied?"

"Very," his son agreed. "Okay, bud. Over to you..."

Then Toothless roared and flung himself into the air, his young rider hanging on for dear life. The newly-named Hookfang launched after him to a very audible scream by the great Knight Commander. Toothless made a laughing noise and wheeled round, his paws grabbing Fury and then rising over the trees as the horse kicked and whinnied. Hookfang grabbed Crusher and the huge red beast gave a shattering shriek that had everyone wincing.

"It's okay," Hiccup said as the other dragons took off and followed, with Sharpshot and Sneaky orbiting the Night Fury gently. "Fury! I'm here! Still, boy!" The horse gave an unhappy nicker but ceased struggling, though Crusher continued kicking and growling. "And...I see your horse takes after you."

"Very funny," Stoick grumbled. "So this was your plan?" Glancing over at his father, the young man managed a shrug as he hunched over the dragon's neck.

"I was hoping," he admitted as they soared over the forest and arrow straight and true towards the distant iron-grey mountains that formed the southern portion of Count Drago's lands, bounded by a twenty foot high wall with a massive armoured iron gate at the intersection of road and wall. The road wiggled beneath them, a brown line amid the green lands of northern Berserker Territory. Here and there, small hamlets or isolated farmhouses were huddled in little hollows, meagre outbuildings and ragged patchworks of fields the only signs of habitation in the wild countryside. The dragons were crossing the lands far faster than any horse and Hiccup was astonished at how fast the mountains were approaching.

"Son," Stoick yelled to him above the rush of the wind, "have you considered what you are going to do to get her back?" Hiccup stared at him and paused, his shoulders sagging. Despite his hurt at her assumptions, he was still the determined young squire who had rushed to her aid and he was adamant that he would retrieve her and return her home-because now more than ever, he needed proof of his honour. But though a hundred crazy plans whirled around his head, nothing had seemed at all possible.

And then he saw it-the little train paused right at the gates of Drago's lands, waiting as the huge doors slowly winched open. He leaned forward.

"Faster, bud!" he yelled, leaning forward and the Night Fury responded, his wings pumping harder and a piercing whistle sounding in the air. He glanced over his shoulder to see the other dragons closing as well but ahead of them, the little train of horses was passing through the gates, the blue roan of the Princess among them. And though they were arrowing in as fast as they could, it was with complete despair that Hiccup saw them vanish through the gate and it slam shut.

Astrid was at the mercy of Count Drago. He had failed.