The riders find a set of papers aboard a Dragon Hunter ship in a completely foreign language, and head for a mysterious island in search of a translator. The island of Sigrùn isn't what they expect, nor are the people who live there—but will the Hunters catch up with them before they get what they came for? Adventure and romance, set during RTTE3. Canon pairings pretty much.

Fishlegs sighed and put down the stack of papers.

"It's no use, guys," he said. "I've never seen any language like this before. I can't make heads or tails out of it."

Hiccup frowned. "But we have to figure out what these say," he said. "If these lead us to rare dragons, or give us any insight on anything we can use against Viggo and the Hunters, then we can't just let it go."

A thin rain was hitting the roof of the clubhouse at the Edge, and everyone had come to sit around the fire together after returning from the raid on a stray Dragon Hunter ship.

Snotlout, as usual, was not on board with Hiccup.

"Why do we even have to figure it out? This doesn't even look like a Viking language. It's not like the Hunters can read it either."

Hiccup sighed, exasperated. "Because, Snotlout, they're obviously going to try to figure it out. This material was under heavy guard, and they were clearly trying to translate it themselves."

"Yeah, okay, but we have it now, so—"

Hiccup cut him off. "This isn't the Dragon Eye, it's just papers," he said. "It would really surprise me if Viggo hasn't made a second copy. He wouldn't have left the original with those goons we ambushed today."

Astrid nodded. "Viggo is too smart to have made a dumb mistake like that. But that's not what I'm concerned about," she said. "Hiccup, how do we know this isn't some kind of trap to lead us into danger?"

Heather stood next to her, arms crossed. "I'm with you, Astrid—I don't like this."

Astrid took a step closer to him. "After all," she said, "we've been burned by false information before."

Hiccup's eyes clouded over as she stared at him, icy and serious. He knew she was remembering how Alvin and the Outcasts had captured him and Toothless using fake notes about night furies, mixing them in with Bork's papers. It still embarrassed him, and he felt a hot flush of shame creeping up his neck.

"Well," he started, "I guess we don't know."

This wasn't the answer Astrid was hoping for, and she looked even more concerned—and had Hiccup been looking anywhere else, he'd notice all the others were doing the same.

"But," he continued, confidence in his voice again, "we can't just ignore it because it might be dangerous. If this is what it seems to be—what with the maps, and the drawings of dragons we've never seen—then we can't risk Viggo figuring it out before we do."

Astrid kept her gaze steady. "Okay," she said, "but once we crack these papers, you need to promise that you're not going to do anything rash."

"Rash? When have I ever—I would never—" Hiccup gesticulated wildly, getting flustered.

Astrid smirked. "Seriously?"

The others laughed.

Heather moved closer to Astrid again. "Really, though, Hiccup—we need to know that whatever these papers say, we're all going to stop and think about it before you—before we—leap into any action."

The two women stared at him with such certainty that he knew there was no point arguing.

"Okay, okay, you're right," he said. "I promise not to do anything crazy. Nothing will happen without everybody's input."

The twins, at the far end of the room, suddenly perked up.

"Wow, okay, way to negate our contributions like that, Hiccup." Tuffnut said, indignant.

Ruffnut nodded, throwing her hands in the air. "No respect for the crazy input!"

Snotlout ignored them. "Whatever! So how do we translate the stupid papers if Fishbrains over here can't do it?"

All eyes in the room swung toward Fishlegs, sitting at the counter with the papers spread out in front of him.

"Well," he began, his voice nervous, "I'm okay at this stuff, but I'm not exactly a translator by trade. I bet if we did a bit of digging, we could find someone else who really knows what they're doing."

"I love it!" Tuffnut interjected. "Let's replace Fishlegs!"

"Hey!" Fishlegs and Heather protested in unison.

Heather crossed the room and placed a hand on Fishlegs' shoulder. "Nobody replaces Fishlegs," she said softly.

"No, you're right," Hiccup said. "It seems like we do need some outside help; it's just a question of where to find it." He paused, thinking.

"Heather," he said, "Do you know where to find Trader Johann?"

"Not exactly," she replied, "but I know where he should be heading. It shouldn't take me more than a day or two to bring him back."

"Can you leave tomorrow?"

"On it."

The skies cleared up overnight, and Heather and Windshear were back before noon the next day, touching down right outside Hiccup's hut. Hiccup heard them land and came rushing out to meet them.

"You're back!" He looked confused. "But…Where's Johann?"

Heather dismounted from her dragon, her expression annoyed. "He wouldn't come back with me," she said. "He said it's better if we meet him, and I didn't wanna risk waiting for him to sail all the way to the Edge."

"So, what—we all have to fly out to his ship?"

"Yeah," Heather nodded. "But he says he does know how to help us."

Hiccup's eyes lit up. "He does? How?"

"He wouldn't tell me much," Heather said, "But he said he knows just the person we need to see. He just wouldn't tell me how to find them—he said it's better if he's there to introduce us, whatever that means."

"Typical Trader Johann, huh?" Hiccup said, rolling his eyes. "Just can't get to the point without a struggle."

Heather laughed. "So," she said, "are we going, or not?"

"Of course we are," Hiccup said. "We might as well all go. I have a feeling we're going to need to guard these papers pretty closely now that Viggo knows we've got them."

About four hours later, all seven riders and six dragons touched down on Trader Johann's deck.

"Alright, Johann," Hiccup said, unhooking from Toothless' harness and walking toward the nervous sailor. "Where are we headed?"

"A most remote locale, Master Hiccup," Johann began, floating his hands through the air for effect. "One that few have heard of, and even fewer have visited. I know its location through my trade, and am sworn to secrecy to protect its inhabitants."

Hiccup was impatient. "And who might these inhabitants be?"

"The people of the Isle of Sigrùn, Master Hiccup," Johann said, "living under command of one Mad Marta the Poet."

Hiccup's expression didn't change, but behind him Fishlegs gasped.

"Mad Marta?!" he said, visibly excited. "We're going to meet the most renowned living poet in the Archipelago?!"

"Indeed," Johann said, pleased at the response. "But we must travel by sea, and your visit will depend on my introduction. Marta's people are quite—ah—wary of outsiders, especially outsiders on the backs of dragons."