A/N- The first few chapters of this story felt very disconnected, so I moved them to their own story. Chapter numbers have been changed accordingly. The story now starts immediately following Loki's adventures.

*Port city, early morning*

"DRAGONS!"

"Archers, to your posts!"

"Ready your weapons! Aim…fire!"

"Sound the alarm bells! Go, go go!"

"Archers, again! Aim…fire!"

"Guard! You there! Go tell the Lord that dragons have been sighted! Run!"

"They're turning, sir! Look, they're leaving!"

"Archers, be at the ready. It could be a trick."

"No…they are gone. See, sir? They flew off south. Must have thought we would make easy pickings!"

"Archers, bows at the ready and stay at your posts. Captain, order your men to be alert and keep their eyes to the sky. I am going to go report to our Lord. If any of you see so much as a bird over the water, shoot it down."

"Yes, sir!"

*Tristan*

Tristan and Jorn flapped their wings tiredly, leaving the yelling humans far behind them. The rest of the dragons bunched around them, some panting after the hours of flight.

Loki will be furious, Tristan commented.

About? Jorn glanced at him.

How the humans reacted. He will see it as another stumbling block, keeping us from that betrayer.

It is. Just our luck that the Viking were able to escape into the Archipelago.

But… Tristan trailed off.

What is it?

If this is how they reacted to us, how did that black devil weasel his way in? I don't think his magic could convince that many people to ignore him, or that he was harmless, or whatever illusion he could come up with.

We don't know anything about his power, Jorn answered. Really, all we can do is guess. What happens when we catch him?

Then we rip his sorry hide to pieces and make him rue the day he was born.

Jorn sighed, the wind whipping the sound away. More bloodshed.

Tristan raised his spikes in anger. After what he did to us? To your family? You feel, what, mercy?

No, of course not! Jorn hissed. I'm not as young as I once was. I just want to settle down somewhere with plenty of fish and…relax. I'm tired of fighting and running and fear.

I understand. We have all lost much. The Nadder shook his head, spikes rattling. I miss Ash and Ellie.

We all do, Tristan. We all do. The two dragons trailed off into heavy silence as the Viking ships came into view.

*Loki*

The Monstrous Nightmare felt his heart grow heavy as he heard Jorn and Tristan's news. If these Norsemen, as Hiccup called them, feared dragons, there was nothing they could do to change it.

Hiccup approached the red dragon. "Loki? I've been talking to my dad and he said that we could take the ships to each island and ask about the Dreknor. Either we will find the ship or someone will have heard of it. As soon as we find out where these Vikings have made port, we can reassess our situation from there."

What will we dragons do?

Toothless repeated the question to Hiccup, since he still had trouble hearing other dragon's thoughts. "There are a lot of outlying islands here with food and shelter. The dragons can break into smaller flocks and stay on the islands. You shouldn't have to stay there long. Just make sure that the dragons stay away from the shorelines. We don't want a stray ship seeing them."

Loki thought a long moment, but there was nothing he could do about the situation. As you wish, he finally answered. Dejected, he went to tell his flock and the other dragons the news.

*Vashdin*

The dragon listened to the roars and shouts of the Vikings he traveled with, drunk to the bone. Outcasts, they were, no longer Vikings. He shifted in the barn, causing startled squeals from the horses. He snapped at them, blasting their minds with dark energy. They froze, eyes rolling, but stopped the awful noise. Yawning, the dragon examined his wounds. His thigh used blood, but that would heal quickly. It was his wing he was more worried about. The velvety membrane of one wing was torn from claws and a large chunk was missing from the other where the smaller black dragon's fireball had hit it. Another dragon might have bleed to death, unable to sustain the weight on their torn wings, but Vashdin was not another dragon. As soon as he had escaped he had gone to work with his power, stopping the blood flow till he landed on the Viking ship. He'd been working on re-growing the skin and muscles ever since, but even with his power it was a long process.

Crashing sounds echoed from the tavern. A brawl had broken out and the participants tumbled onto the street, cheered by the onlookers. Unsteady footsteps approached the barn, probably a drunk coming for his horse. Spitting curses to himself Vashdin threw all his power into shifting his form. Bone stretched, shrunk, and re-arranged themselves. A few seconds later a man lay half buried in the straw, apparently asleep. The drunk paid him no mind, instead concentrating on the ordeal of getting himself onto his horses back. Once settled he slapped the horses sides. A look of surprise came over his face as the horse reared and he slid onto the ground. He got up blearily and swayed, eyeing the horse. Finally deciding he had climbed on backwards, he mumbled to himself and went about the task of getting on again, this time the correct way. Half collapsed on the horse's shoulder the pair plodded off, the animal knowing the way home out of long habit.

As soon as the duo left Vashdin let go of the form shifting power, groaning as his bones reshaped themselves. He hated switching forms. He'd had to though, to be able to stay out in the barn. Exchanging words with the fat tavern owner had left him in a foul mood, along with his wounds, which remained in human form. However, he'd been able to use the Viking Outcast's money to barter for sleeping in the barn. When people came, of course, he had to switch forms, but he was safe enough to work on his wounds. He hoped to stay only for one night and be off at first light. He focused again on his wing, channeling power into the muscles and skin, willing them reform.

*Hiccup*

The Viking teen's eyes were round as saucers as he walked with his dad through the Norse marketplace. The Vikings had split into small groups, each investigating a different island for signs of their prey. Hiccup hurried after his father's vast figure, determined not to lose site of him.

"Hiccup!" Stoic turned abruptly to his son. "Stay here, out of trouble, and entertain yourself for a while. I'm going to stop at that pub there and see if I can find out any information. Got that? Out of trouble. Anything happens, come find me." He handed Hiccup some Norse coins, probably from a raid, and strode off, decidedly more eager at the promise of a drink with his search. Hiccup rolled his eyes and dove back into the crush of the market.

The air was colder here than at Berk and a chill wind slid through the narrow streets. It carried with it the ever-present scent of fish, but a variety of new smells as well. Spices, baked foods, fresh bread, the metallic scent of metal and oil, and host of other unidentifiable items. The island was a trading port, as all the islands were, attracting ships from all over the world.

Hiccup flitted from booth to booth, eyes spinning with curiosity. He bought a hot pastry from a booth, filled with meat and yellow sauce. It was spicy and exotic, like nothing he'd tasted before.
"You like?" The booth tender asked. He was dark skinned and wore a pile of cloth on his head like a tower.

Hiccup nodded as he bit into his meal. "What is it?"

"Curry! Curry is magic spice, no? Sweet, yet with a bite! From India, my country. Add to meat, fish, anything! You buy?" He held up a little pouch of yellow powder. Hiccup thought a moment and then nodded, passing over the right amount of coins. It would certainly add some flavor to the food at home. The trader seemed surprised Hiccup hadn't started bargaining, but then smiled and handed him another pastry along with the curry powder. "Many thanks, many thanks!" He called as Hiccup walked away smiling. He'd hoped his generosity would gain him another pastry and he'd been correct.

Another booth caught his attention. The table flashed with gold and silver bracelets, rings, necklaces, and more. His thoughts immediately strayed to Astrid, but she would never wear such things. He was about to turn away when a small dagger caught his eye. The handle was worked with fine silver in a varying and never ending series of knots and loops. He picked it up.

"Celtic work, that is. Celtic knots to protect you from evil and be sure your hand strikes true. Lovely, isn't it? Useful, yet beautiful."

"How much?"

The trader thought and named a price. Hiccup shook his head and suggested a much lower one. And so it went, haggling till they both came to a decision. Hiccup walked away with a much lighter wallet, but a small silver dagger tucked under his arm. He couldn't wait to give it to Astrid. Shopping now done, Hiccup turned his ears to the chatter around him, giving his full attention to anything that might help them find the Vikings and dragon.

"How much are you asking?"

"Fine china? Hah! I'll bet its pewter painted over!"

"Fresh fruit! Ship just came in! Come and taste the tropics!"

"Silk for your lady friend? Only the finest!"

"Fresh fish, just caught!"

"Did you hear what Hilda said the other day?"

"Jared! Get out of the muck!"

"An engagement? Those two? I should knock their heads together!"

Hiccup moved through the market, looking for a more open space. The street opened onto a dock full of fishers, housewives, the odd Viking, and a variety of other people.

"Do you know where I can get purple thread? No one here has the color I need."

"Well they didn't land here, but my husband said that a cloth trading ship came through early this morning."

"Really? Do you know where it docked?"

"No, sorry. They came blazing through and ship that size, you know they won't be able to dock anywhere around here. Too crowded. Probably going to the Mid or Inner circle. You just wait, I bet the goods will trickle back here."

"What was it called? Ralph said he was heading to the Mid islands tomorrow for the day."

"Don't remember…Viking ship though. I can ask Ern when he gets home. Said they were rather rough looking; clothes all patched together. But if they have the goods…"

"…who cares how fair the face!" The two women laughed and their conversation turned to the local gossip. Hiccup had heard all he needed though. He bounded back through the marketplace towards the pub. They had a lead, and that's all they needed. One step closer to saving his friends. Hiccup pushed his legs to move faster.