A/N: Remembrance Sunday approaches and this year, I wanted to mark it with a story. The centenaries of various battles have been coming and going over the last couple of years and the numbers of dead when you hear them, are staggering. When I was very small, my grandmother used to tell me about her brothers, Victor and Bertie, who died in the Great War (World War I, 1914-8) and especially Bertie, who died in the Battle of the Somme. And while I could see our heroes volunteering to fight for their homes, it was a very dangerous and not everyone came home...

Imagine Berk is somewhere in middle England in 1914...

Disclaimer: I do not own How To Train Your Dragon. Rights remain with Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks.

...

ONE:

The posters had gone up weeks earlier and Snotlout and the twins had been among the first in the small town of Berk to sign up for the Expeditionary Force to France. Spirits had been high and Snotlout had been brash and confident as he went for in fitting his khakis.

"We'll be home by Christmas," he had assured his cousin cheerfully as they stood together for the photograph for the family. A head shorter than his lanky cousin, Snotlout's stocky body looked meant for the uniform, his ice blue eyes glittering with eagerness to do his bit and beat the enemy. Even the fact that Ruffnut had somehow persuaded the recruiter than she was a guy so she could accompany her brother to war hadn't raised any alarm. The sense of confidence and optimism was intoxicating. All the propaganda was unanimous: the enemy would be dealt with easily and then everyone would be home so that life could continue as it always had.

"Shame you can't come with us, Hicc," Tuffnut said amiably. The male twin was lanky and strong, his blonde hair cut to the collar and eyes filed with amusement at his sister suffering the same fate. She looked eerily like him and her determination not to be separated from him had meant she had sacrificed her traditional braids without a murmur.

"I asked-but Spitelout insisted I stay-as the senior engineer for Berk Munitions and Ordnance," Hiccup admitted. He was tall, lean and slightly awkward, with his messy auburn hair framing his sharp-jawed face and expressive emerald eyes. His few faded freckles marked his pale skin and he always managed to look slightly rumpled. "I wish I was going with you guys. It-it won't be the same here without you." Snotlout clapped him on the shoulder so hard he almost fell over.

"Well, we need the best guns and ammunition if we're to finish them off," he said without rancour. "You're as important as we are. I mean, we can't throw rocks at the enemy, can we?" Hiccup shrugged.

"I guess not," he sighed. "I'm gonna miss you guys. Things will just be so quiet around here without you." Predictably, Snotlout burst out laughing and clapped his cousin hard on his shoulder, almost knocking him sideways again.

"Yeah-they won't know what's hit 'em!" he sniggered as the friends laughed and joked and the new recruits showed off their new uniforms. And there in the sunny September day, Hiccup looked at his friends and felt a weird and eerie sense of dislocation, wondering when they would be together again. So he invited them all round to dinner that evening and made sure he warned Astrid to expect guests.

In their beautiful two bedroom house at the edge of town, they welcomed their friends around the heavy oak dining table, Astrid, Hiccup's childhood sweetheart and only love, was in charge, her golden hair swept up into a functional and fashionable braided bun, wisps framing her beautiful face. Her azure eyes sparkled as she carried the bird to the table, her brisk manner very Astrid. Hiccup was an engineer, a creative and brilliant young man who could prevaricate forever but who would do anything for anyone while Astrid was brisk, efficient and practical. She loved Hiccup with all her heart and he had softened her aggressive and angry personality while she had given him confidence in his own abilities. And while she wasn't the best cook, her roast chicken dinner was very acceptable. Hiccup carved and his friends-Snotlout, the twins, Fishlegs Ingerman, Heather Bazerk and Dagur Bazerk-sat round the table.

"To our friends," Astrid said, raising her glass and the others all sipped their ale and murmured the toast. Fishlegs-a husky young man with short blonde hair who taught in the local grammar school-sighed.

"I wish I could go with you but at the moment, I'm in a reserved occupation," he admitted. Heather-a raven-haired young woman with green eyes who was his paramour as well as the school nurse-drifted her hand to gently rest on his.

"I, for one, an grateful," she admitted. "So many are going-and it should all be over by Christmas-so I'm happier that you will be safe here."

"So am I," Dagur added cheerfully. He was her older brother, buff and brave and a little wild but devoted to his sister and his friends. His carrot-red hair was cut short though his green eyes matched hers and his face was marked with three pale scars over his left eye-from a childhood argument with a wolf while on holiday in Norway. "Especially since I joined up today." All heads snapped round and Heather's gasp was loud in the room.

"What?" Astrid asked, her eyes flicking to look at her friend. Heather's eyes were swimming with tears.

"Well, I couldn't have Snoteye here taking all the glory when we kick the enemy out of France," he said cheerfully. "And the Berkian Regiment could do with another Viking warrior." Hiccup swallowed and met Astrid's blue eyes. She was shocked but sanguine and nodded for him to speak.

"Well, we'll all sleep safer knowing all of you are out there, protecting us," he said and raised his glass. "To our heroes." Heather buried her head in Fishlegs's shoulder as Dagur sighed and walked to her side, crouching down and lifting her chin with a gentle finger.

"It's okay, sis," he reassured her "You know me-I'm always fighting anyway-so this should be a breeze. The twins are gamekeepers so they are excellent shots. And Snotlegs has been trained to fight and shoot from when he was a little boy by his Uncle. He always wanted to join the army anyway so this came at the perfect time for him!" Heather nodded and swiped her eyes with her handkerchief.

"I know," she admitted, swallowing against any more tears. Dagur was her only relative, for her father had died in the Boer Wars and her mother had perished shortly after. Hiccup's father, General Stoick Haddock, a hero of the Colonial Wars, had immediately taken them in and he had raised them as siblings to his only child. "But you're so reckless, Dagur." He grinned.

"You know me, sis," he smiled. "I always come back. Stoick made sure we all knew how to shoot like demons, fight hand to hand and were fit as Helheim."

"And he'll be there as well," Hiccup added. "I know he'll keep an eye on you all." Heather nodded.

"At least you are here," she said in a relieved voice. "As long as you and Fish are here, I know I'm not alone." Astrid rose and took her hands.

"I'm here as well," she reminded her best friend. "You don't ever need to worry."

"Yeah," Tuff confirmed. "The enemy won't stand a chance!"

oOo

Hiccup, Astrid, Heather and Fishlegs were all on the platform with the other families as the train carrying the recruits was almost ready to leave. Hiccup had hugged his cousin and friends and then stepped back as Heather clung to her brother, tears shining in her eyes. They had only had each other for so long that they both hated parting-a reason why Dagur had remained in Berk rather than pursuing a career in a bigger town. The twins' mother had hugged them both and Spitelout Jorgensen-Snotlout's father who was an older copy of his stocky, jet-haired son-shook his son's hand and ordered him to make him proud. Snotlout had been brash, loud and very touched. But never moreso than when Hiccup's father, the great General Stoick 'the Vast' Haddock, had come up to wish the friends good fortune.

Stoick was a huge man, well over six and a half feet high and build like a bull yak with cool grey-green eyes and an enormous flaming red beard. His massive chest was arrayed with his campaign medals and he was an imposing presence. He was accompanied as ever by his best friend-and Hiccup's godfather and mentor-Major Gordon 'Gobber' Belcher. Gobber was the semi-retired senior engineer at Berk Munitions and Ordnance, though he had handed the reins over to Hiccup the moment he had completed his degree-but there was nothing on Midgard that would have prevented accompanying his childhood friend on another adventure. The two men had travelled all over the world in the service of the Empire, fighting everyone they were asked and epitomising the spirit of derring-do...even though Gobber had returned without his left hand and right foot. But the man was irascible, irrepressible and cheerily indiscreet. His solid shape, with the belt straining round the middle, limped alongside his friend. Even his long braided blonde moustache had been trimmed for mobilisation.

"Laddie-I'm trusting yer not tae wreck meh factory!" he said to Hiccup, winking cheerily.

"I think you'll find it's my factory!" Spitelout protested irritably, giving a few last words to his son. Gobber winked.

"Ye keep telling' yerself that, Spitelout," he grinned and grasped Hiccup's shoulder. "I'm relying on yer tae keep improving. Yer a skilled mechanic and more inventive than I could ever be. Let that lass o'yours support yer and dinnae get obsessed. Yer tae much of a fishbone already!" Hiccup smiled, his hand entwined with Astrid's before he pulled away and hugged the older engineer.

"You take care of yourself, Gobber," he said genuinely. "Even though you'll be with Dad in HQ, I know you two will get to the Front as much as you can and you're not as young as you used to be." Gobber chuckled and hugged him tightly, the auburn haired young man's ribs creaking.

"Rub it in, why don't ye," he grumbled and smiled as he released Hiccup, who grimaced. "Astrid lass-look after this lad. We need him here!" She flashed her beautiful smile and captured his hand once more, her azure gaze sparkling with her love.

"Of course, Gobber," she said sincerely. "I will protect him against everything I can. But you know Hiccup-stubborn as a rock..."

"And I thought you were on my side," Hiccup protested gently, a smile lifting his lips.

"I am on your side, babe," she reminded him, leaning against him. "And that means stopping you overworking, making sure you eat and rest and that you keep things going here while the others go off and win this war for us." Stoick finished speaking with Mrs Thorston as Astrid finished her stern words and he smiled at her fierce voice before approaching the four friends in uniform, who saying final farewells to their friends.

"I couldn't be more proud," he said in his booming voice as the friends all scrambled to attention. "At ease, soldiers. I'm here as a friend." He nodded to the twins and shook their hands then stared at his nephew and his sort-of adopted son. "Snotlout, Dagur-I am proud and pleased that you are fighting for your friends. I cannot be by your side so you must take care, follow all orders and for the Gods' sake, duck!" Snotlout grinned.

"Of course Uncle-sir," he replied enthusiastically.

"Yes, sir," Dagur said firmly. "I'll make you proud, sir." Stoick rested his huge hands on the young men's shoulders and then turned to his son and Hiccup's wife.

"Hiccup," he said, "I'm glad you aren't coming, son. Not that I doubt your courage-because you are a brave and determined young man-but because you create. You don't destroy. You've never killed anything in your life. And I hope and pray you don't have to." The young auburn haired man smiled, tilting his brown trilby hat backwards and staring up into his father's eyes.

"Thanks, Dad-though maybe I need to remind you that I work in a Munitions and Ordnance Factory?" he replied, his sarcasm instinctive. "I may not personally kill people but I think up bigger and better ways for others to do it." Stoick sighed.

"Son-you are so like your mother," he said gently. "She could never kill-and she hated when I went to war, even though it was for the good of the Empire. But I knew that you were her son and I never resented it...because you have to be who you are." Hiccup flung himself into a fierce embrace, his arms wrapped around his father.

"Dad," he whispered, "be careful." Stoick squeezed him tight then lifted his eyes to stare into Astrid's bright blue gaze.

"Look after him, lass," he said gruffly. "You're his rock. Don't let him become what he isn't. He's not a man built for destruction and horror: I rely on you to protect him." She walked forward and took Hiccup's hand, pulling it to her heart.

"I promise, sir," she said clearly. The last of a military family, Astrid would have gone to war if it had been permitted-but as it was not, she would do everything she could. Fierce and protective, she would defend her husband against the horrors of the world as much as she was able and already loved him enough to put him back together if he was damaged. She had heard her father-in-law talking and neither she nor Hiccup were convinced that the war would be simple or quick but they had agreed not to say anything to their friends who had signed up. All they could do was pray they would come back safe and well.

Finally Stoick pulled away as the whistle sounded and there was a scramble for the carriages. The whistle sounded again and the steam from the engine thickened as the doors slammed. Hiccup stared up into the carriage at his father, his emerald eyes wide.

"Take care, Dad," he said clearly as Astrid rested against his side, her arm around him as he wrapped his arm around her and the General nodded.

"You too, son," he smiled and stood back as the friends all crammed into the window and waved wildly.

"Take care!" Heather yelled and Astrid added her voice. Then the carriage lurched and the chuff of the stream engine grew louder as the train slowly pulled out of Berk station. Heather and Fishlegs moved alongside and they all waved fiercely, watching the train slowly recede and all the way until it vanished out of sight round the bend in the tracks. Fishlegs grasped Heather's hand and squeezed.

"Now it's in the hands of the Gods," he sighed.

oOo

News from France was slow and as none of their friends were good at writing letters, the friends relied on reports in the papers of how the war was going. Time passed and the weather deteriorated but little progress seemed to have been made. Stoick wrote a few times to Hiccup and he devoured every letter eagerly, learning his friends were well but that fighting had become bogged down with trenches dug on both sides and fighting across the disputed No Man's Land. It soon became clear that the war wouldn't be over by Christmas.

News began to trickle back that there were mounting casualties from repeated attacks against the machine guns of the enemy. When the third man from the factory had been confirmed dead, Hiccup knew that his friends were in danger and he redoubled his efforts to develop and refine the weapons they produced-though the diminishing number of men working in the factory made production harder. Spitelout was resistant but Hiccup insisted that they employ women to start to fill the gaps. The facts were very simple-more and more men were going to war and the factory would be unable to fulfil orders unless they started to take women on. And among the first was Astrid.

Honestly, Hiccup didn't have a problem with women working the same jobs that had been performed mere months earlier by men because he already knew that Astrid was as strong as he was, as determined as he was and definitely as stubborn. She was bright, grasped concepts immediately and was unafraid of hard work, of being scorned or teased. She knew her worth and railed against the constraints of society, of the inferior status that society decreed women in the early twentieth century had to accept. She knew that in the Viking times they all referred to as the lost golden age, she had equal status to a man, could vote and fight and own property and divorce a man...but now, in the England of George V, she had no vote, very little legal voice and an inferior status.

So he walked into the factory with pride as she entered on her first day at his side, wearing a serviceable floor length brown skirt, a durable white blouse and her hair braided firmly off her beautiful face. She was given her apron, gloves, cap and a short induction-and then she took her place at the assembly line. Hiccup walked up to his office and cast her a small look-just enough to see her cast him a quick smile before returning to her duties with a solemn expression. Smiling, he shed his coat, lifted his pencil and furrowed his brow as he turned back to his new design for a more efficient machine gun...

oOo

Christmas came and went and Fishlegs and Heather became betrothed as the new year of 1915 dawned. News was scanty from the Western Front though all their friends wrote home for the holidays-even though Tuff's letter consisted of the words 'Told you!' Snotlout's letter boasted how well he had done in the soccer game that had broken out spontaneously in No Man's Land on Christmas Day while Dagur's had asked after Heather and told Fishlegs not to hurt his sister and that he expected to return to find his sister married and settled.

Hiccup was working harder than ever-long hours, creating and prototyping new weapons and better ammunition that could save lives and shorten the war. He grew thin and exhausted and Astrid had to work harder than ever to support him, wrapping him in her own unique brand of protective love. So she worked hard with Heather and they turned the neat garden into a vegetable plot and she took to keeping chickens to ensure they had plentiful eggs and fresh produce to feed him up. She made sure he had a warm fire to sleep by. And she loved him with her fierce passion, ensuring he knew he was valued and hers.

The news of deaths continued, the number of women in the town wearing the black of mourning slowly increasing. The seasons slowly cycled and more women worked in the factory, replacing men who volunteered or who were called up. Astrid remained grateful the Hiccup's status as a scientist and engineer protected him because she couldn't bear to think of him in the trenches on the Western Front, being shelled or wading through miles of mud...or being blown to pieces.

It was early summer and the weather was warming when Heather and Fishlegs came to dinner. Astrid had slaughtered one of the chickens-an especially fat one named Esmerelda-and the friends were sitting round the same sturdy table that the entire gang had sat around before the others went to war. Before they ate, they all said prayers for their friends and family in France before Astrid served up an excellent roast with roasted potatoes, greens and bread sauce. They had finally finished eating and were resting before the apple pie when Fishlegs cleared his throat.

"Heather and I are getting married in three weeks," he said as Astrid and Hiccup stared.

"I...why...congratulations..." Hiccup gaped and then he pulled himself together past the shock and smiled. "Congratulations, Fish, Heather..." The girl gave a shy smile.

"I-I was hoping you would walk me down the aisle, Hiccup," she asked him shyly. Heather was a strong woman but it was a big ask...thought not that large, since Hiccup was her de facto brother and the only male 'relative' available with her brother and foster father in France and her real father dead. "And Astrid...if you would be my Maid of Honour...?" The blonde woman caught her best friend's hands and she smiled.

"It would be my pleasure-and I would have been hurt if you had asked anyone else," she admitted.

"Um...same here," Hiccup added, getting up and kissing Heather on the cheek.

"And then you need to move onto best man duties," Fishlegs asked him and the auburn-haired man gave a grin.

"Wow," he managed. "Double duties...but I would be honoured, Fish. I mean-you're my best friend and I wouldn't want you to get married without me being there...though..." He looked up, his green eyes suddenly serious. "Why now? Why such a hurry?"

There was an awkward pause and Hiccup felt Astrid's hand grip his tight under the table. It was the question she had been an ace from asking but she knew he was better-because Fishlegs was hiding something. They all knew the husky man well enough to know there was something worrying him-for he was a dreadful liar and couldn't dissemble to save his life.

"I just can't do it any more," Fishlegs said in a heavy voice. "The eyes, watching me as I walk through town or the voices whispering in church or in the street. I mean, I am the youngest master in the school by over forty years! All the younger masters have already gone to war and even a few of the final year boys have signed up and shipped out. And they look at me...like I'm a coward. They're asking why I'm not doing my bit..."

"But you are doing your bit," Astrid said urgently. "You are in a reserved profession because we need a next generation after the war is won-and they need to be educated."

"There are older, retired masters who have come back to do that," Fishlegs said softly. "So I will do my bit. I've signed up-and I'll ship out two days after the wedding."

"I support him," Heather said, her voice thick with emotion and her eyes saying very much that she wasn't alright with it. "But my brother and the others will look after him so I know he'll be safe..."

Twelve men have died from the Berkian Regiment this year, Hiccup thought but forced himself to nod.

"Snotlout will love another person to brag to," Astrid smiled, her forced cheerfulness fooling no-one. Then she rose. "Goodness-the apple pie. This is turning into a celebration. I'll fetch some cream and a little sherry to toast the happy news!" Her hand trailed over Hiccup's shoulder as she walked past, the slight squeeze reminding him to keep the other couple talking because she could see how upset Heather was.

"So you've got your suit and gown already organised?" Hiccup asked, seeing Heather force a smile on her face. She nodded.

"It was my mother's wedding dress-though I've altered it a bit," she admitted. "Cream lace and satin and a cream silk veil." Fishlegs held her hand and she leaned into his shoulder.

"She will look perfect," he said lovingly. "And though I know she doesn't want me to go, we both know that I have to. She can see me, getting more and more frustrated and ashamed as everyone judges me for not being on the Western Front. And though I really want to be with her, I can't be the man she wants without leaving her."

"And while that actually makes no sense if you listen to the words, I know what you mean," Hiccup sighed and sipped his water as Astrid arrived back in the Dining Room. Her eyes widened and he heard her gasp. In a second, he was on his feet, grasping the tray before it fell from her nerveless hands. He swiftly laid it on the table and pulled her close to him, staring into her wide and scared azure eyes. "Milady, I know what he's going through because I am too," he whispered. "They look at me like I am the lowest of the low. I hear whispers of 'coward' and the judgement that I'm not 'doing my bit'. And I know that I am...because I make sure our boys have weapons and bullets...but people don't see that."

"I don't want you to go," she mouthed. "You're no killer, Hiccup. And going there, seeing all that death and destruction would...break you..." He leaned close and pressed a very gentle kiss on her lips.

"I know," he sighed. "But if the war drags on, everyone will be conscripted-even engineers. And then there will be no choice." His gently stroked her cheek and kissed her again. "Fish will be with our friends and I will make sure we have the best weapons for them." He smiled. "Now that pie looks perfect. Let's celebrate our friends' upcoming wedding. And who knows? Maybe the war will be over soon."

oOo

The wedding was a small affair in the Temple of Odin on the Main Plaza. Hiccup kept his word and both gave Heather away and acted as Best Man to Fishlegs. A few teachers from the Grammar School and Fishlegs's parents were in attendance but otherwise, it was a depressingly small congregation. The pranks of the twins and even Snotlout's self-importance were missed and thoughts were more and more with those who were already fighting. Fishlegs attended in his new khaki uniform and Heather's eyes widened as she saw him waiting-and then she smiled in pride. It wasn't her wish but she had given her blessing and she was proud he would stand by her brother and friends in the trenches. Everyone pitched in with the cakes and sandwiches for the wedding meal and Fishlegs's parents had welcomed their new daughter warmly and promised to look after her while their son was fighting in the war.

After they had seen Fishlegs off with the few recruits on the train heading for the boat to France, Heather quit working at the school and moved to work in the factory with Astrid. Hiccup saw her struggle but her natural determination and intelligence meant she quickly picked up the intricacies of her new role and settled in. She spent many evenings with Hiccup and Astrid or with her in-laws and the trio all took to walking their dogs together. Hiccup's black labrador Toothless, Astrid's golden retriever Stormfly and Heather's steel-grey Weimaraner Windshear were already friends so walking them was no chore and allowed the three to cling to a small semblance of normality amid increasing shortages and a dull air of desperation.

And then the new offensive began and reports of casualties began to trickle back to Berk. But Hiccup was very sad when he received a letter from his father, who still wrote occasionally, though areas were blanked out by the army censors. But this letter was delivered intact and he sat at the breakfast table with Astrid holding his hand, reading the words and blinking hard.

July 11th 1916

My Dear Son,

I write to you with a heavy heart. There is no easy way to put this, but I have sad news for you.

On the first day of the offensive, your friend Tuffnut Thorston was killed. It was I believe instantaneous-a shell impact as he and his squad went over the top and advanced towards the enemy lines. His body was never found but there was no doubt that he was killed, even though he has been declared Missing in Action.

His 'brother' 'Rafe'-who we both know was in fact his twin sister, Ruffnut-never recovered from the loss. She never spoke again after his death despite the best efforts of Snotlout, Dagur and Fishlegs to try to support and comfort her. But I have seen it before and I wasn't at all surprised when two nights after he was lost, she walked out into No Man's Land and never returned. She was lost without him and I have to believe that she is happier now she is reunited with him.

I have written personally to their parents. Odin only knows how their poor mother will react.

Please tell Astrid and Heather. Snotlout, Dagur and Fishlegs are well and I will watch over them, as much as I can in this Hel. I am glad you are away from this, son. Men are beginning to break at the sight and the constant alarms and barrages. The sights of mud, explosions, friends blown apart or gassed are taking their toll. People are calling it 'Shell Shock' but General Haig and the Military Commanders officially do not recognise it.

Fools.

All men have their breaking points and I pray this madness is over before we all pass ours.

You have my love and thoughts always,

Dad.

Hiccup looked up, tears falling unashamedly from his eyes as Astrid leaned against him, wrapping her arms protective around his shoulders.

"We've lost the twins," he said tonelessly. "Who's next?"