Authors Note: I'm sorry that it took me so long to finish this chapter. Life got really busy and I ran out of time to write. But, I'm back and should have time now for a while. Please review, especially if I'm on your alert list and even if you have reviewed before. Reviews not only let me know that you want more story, but let me know what you think I could do better and what you would all like to see happen. Granted, the structure and arc is certainly finished, but there's some wiggle room. Thanks so much for reading!

Mjollnir is Norse for "Thor's Hammer"

Thanks to my beta reader: CelloDrew

If Only You'd Listened

Chapter 4

Where did the years go?

Sunshine rose over the east banks of the island of Berk. In the distance, a small group of hunters were returning from a trip around to the opposite side of the island. They walked together carrying their kills and laughing at some unknown joke. Among the group could be seen Fishlegs and Tuffnut. Snotlout was leading the group. The men seemed jovial and happy with their hunting.

On the cliff face of Berk, watching the small figures of the returning hunting group, Stoic smiled. It was a good kill and the village would have plenty of food for a good while. The village seemed to have a good supply of food most weeks now. There were some great new Vikings and the dragon raids had slowed in past weeks. Stoic took a moment (now rare) to think about his lost son.

Seven years had passed since his son had nearly killed him. No one in the village had seen nor heard from Hiccup since that night. As far as Stoic knew, or rather hoped, Hiccup was dead. His life would be considerably easier if Hiccup never showed his face in Berk again. That conflict had taken a serious toll on Stoic and his leadership in the village.

The first group that had left Berk left before Hiccup had returned and set fire to many homes and murdered several Viking archers. That group was rather small and was comprised mostly of couples with young children, as well as Astrid's parents. Almost immediately after Hiccup attacked Stoic, another larger group left. Since then, several more groups had left, both known to Stoic and unknown.

After the first couple of groups left, Stoic declared it treason to abandon the clan. When the next group tried to leave, his anger and frustration got the better of him and he had the majority of the adults killed as an example. The children were passed to other, more loyal families to raise. After that, groups had to leave under the cover of night. That all happened years ago.

There was still a good deal of the villagers left. At this point, those that remained were either completely loyal to Stoic or completely terrified of him. Really, this worked to Stoic's favor. His orders were now obeyed immediately and without question. He had been able to raise those kids, Snotlout, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, and Fishlegs into very prosperous Vikings. In fact, Snotlout was his third in command behind Gobber. The others were officers.

No one second guessed his decisions anymore and that suited him just fine. He had been merciful before Hiccup's departure; but after that debacle, he couldn't afford such emotional weakness as mercy. Mercy was why so many had perished at that dragon's… no… at his son's hands. There was no room in the cruel world for mercy, and his leadership showed it.

If anyone stepped out of line or failed to fulfill their responsibilities, they were met with harsh punishment. Of course this change in rule didn't happen overnight; but instead like a soup slowly simmering, Stoic also grew more and more angry. He let the memory of everything that had been taken from him fester and boil beneath his skin until it callused his heart to any real emotion.

Curiously, despite this emotional deadness, Stoic had found another wife. In the years since Hiccup's departure, Stoic decided to leave that part of his life behind. He would start anew. This meant also leaving behind the memory of his dead wife. Over time he began looking for another.

It had taken him quite some time to find a worthy woman. Many of the men that were loyal to him even offered him their wives. The small part of Stoic that still loved his previous wife was a little disgusted by these men so willingly giving up their spouses. Still, the generous offers exhibited loyalty beyond measure; that was good.

No, Stoic would not take a wife from someone else. His new wife had to be as pure a Viking as any. She was to be something that was his and his alone. He courted many women over the next few years with only one outlasting the others. She was the complete opposite of his first wife.

His first wife had been kind and loving. A gentle Viking well suited for raising Hiccup. Perhaps that was one reason Hiccup had grown up so soft. He loved his first wife beyond measure and, at the time, appreciated her difference to the normal Viking women.

The woman to whom he was now married couldn't have been more different. She was bred of the same stock that he was; big, muscular, and strong willed. She'd just as soon kill a dragon as eat her breakfast. In fact, this she did quite often. During the increasingly rare dragon attacks, Stoic was hard pressed to be the kill leader next to his wife. She was as viscous and certainly as terrifying as Stoic himself.

This, of course, worked out to Stoic's advantage. While he was busy strong arming the men into compliance, she could do the same with the women. He hadn't planned it this way, but it seemed like Odin's will. She also had one hell of an ugly Viking name; PigSpit.

Despite her considerably gruff exterior, Stoic loved her in his own way. It wasn't as pure as his first wife, but nonetheless he could finally find some semblance of happiness again. She too, seemed to love Stoic and the two of them ruled efficiently and ruthlessly over the Viking people of Berk.

Adding to his legacy, PigSpit bore Stoic a son. Mjollnir, as Stoic proudly named him, was now two years old. Stoic couldn't be more pleased with his son. Even at two years of age, he was exhibiting wonderful Viking traits. His arms were considerably more bulky then the rest of his body and he could already chew through pebbles. Stoic had even put a Terrible Terror in his crib, which Mjollnir had killed quickly.

Standing now at the top of the cliff watching the hunters bringing in their kill, Stoic turned and walked back into the Village proper. Those seven years had been kind to Stoic and his ambitions. He fancied his problems over. With a smile on his face, he walked up the hill toward his house.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"'Spit, I'm back!"

Stoic closed the massive wooden door shutting off his home from the world. Out of the back room came sprinting a little ball of energy and loudness. Stoic picked his son up and chuckled to himself.

"Daddy!" Mjollnir shouted with glee. In his hands were a club and a dragon skull. It was obvious his son had been practicing his already keen dragon killing skills. This boy would be one to challenge the gods themselves. Stoic smiled at his fortune.

"Where is Mommy, Nir?" He said, setting the boy down.

The small lump of energy bound out of the room without a response. Stoic chuckled quietly again to himself before walking toward the kitchen. Looking around on his way he noticed the differences to the house over the years. There was no longer any remnant of his previous life. He had burned all of Hiccup's things and buried their helmets next to his first wife. He knew Gobber visited every once in a while and laid flowers there for the both of them, but Stoic himself hadn't been in years.

He made sure that there was no physical reminder of that life in his domain. Though his wife knew the entire story, she never mentioned it. Stoic wasn't sure why he was dwelling on his past more often now. Odin must be messing with him.

PigSpit came around the corner holding their son. Nir was jabbering to himself happily and PigSpit gave Stoic one of her rare smiles. Despite her yellow and cracked teeth, Stoic couldn't help but admit to himself that he loved her smile. In those brief moments in time, he was allowed to be his old self again. His heart exposed itself to her for the shortest second before her smile faded and with it, his heart.

"How was the hunt?" She asked setting Mjollnir on the ground. He shot off into the other room again. She sat at the long dining table and Stoic followed suit.

"It looked good. Snotlout seemed to have led a successful hunt. The other young Vikings really look up to him. I'm glad he matured when he did."

As he spoke, PigSpit started sharpening a dagger. Her expression was stern with concentration. Stoic looked sadly at his wife and set his hand on hers. Her eyes momentarily betrayed her annoyance with her husband's interruption of her work.

"Hey, hon." Stoic spoke up. PigSpit stopped and set the dagger on the table. His expression caught her off guard.

"You know I love you, right?" Stoic asked; his voice shaking just slightly. There was an almost imperceptible tightening of his hands around hers.

"Of course, Stoic." Her eyes returned to the dagger. As she resumed sharpening, she added, without looking up, "I love you too."

The words felt like icy water running over his skin. He attributed her lack of visible emotion to her being a strong Viking woman, but it still stun slightly. However, he knew there was no chance at betrayal from PigSpit. She enjoyed her status in the village and at least enjoyed Stoic's company. Besides that, he was sure she loved Mjollnir as much as he did.

With that thought in mind, he leaned forward and kissed his wife before getting up from the table. He took another glance at PigSpit as he walked into the backroom to find Nir. He was sitting in a corner, facing outward and repeatedly bashing the dragon skull he had placed on the ground. He had a boyish and jovial smile as he did so. Stoic quietly approached, as Nir had not noticed his presence yet. As he observed his young son exhibiting youthful Viking violence, his skin was washed in warmth to replace the icy cold his wife had just thrown on him.

Stoic stooped behind the wrought iron stove and kept in the shadows. Soon, Nir stood up and began speaking to himself in the gibberish of a toddler. In one hand, Nir was swinging the skull about the room complete with "whooshing" noises. In the other hand, Nir was swinging the infant sized club. It was obvious to Stoic that Nir was now engaged in an epic battle for the survival of nothing less than all of mankind. Nir finally allowed his club hand to smash the skull and he let the bone drop to the ground. He was in the middle of congratulating himself on his heroic victory over the immortal beast when Stoic stomped out of the darkness.

Nir quickly turned and an impish grin spread across his lips upon recognizing his new foe. Stoic unleashed a guttural and feral growl and got down on all fours. Nir kicked the forgotten skull of his fallen adversary to the side and rushed his new enemy. Stoic braced himself and allowed Nir to club him straight across the forehead. He feigned pain and allowed Nir to get in a couple more hits before he launched his counter attacked. He then faked a left side dive and as Nir began to guard against it, Stoic instead dived to his son's right. His left arm grabbed Nir and the club flew from his tiny hands.

Nir was giggling and kicking in happiness while Stoic, still growling, was tickling him. He continued the attack for a few more seconds before setting his son down and retreating. Nir had the presence of mind to go for the club, but Stoic already stood between the hero and his weapon. Unperturbed by his enemy's thoughtfulness to block access to his weapon, Nir decided that a distraction was the best course of action.

The young hero ran from this small room of the castle, which was the site of this epic struggle, to the massive dining room. His mother, the Queen, was sitting at their gigantic table sharpening his other weapons. He could hear the monster stomping behind him, knowing the beast had taken the bait. He tried to warn his mother of the impending danger, but she insisted on continuing work on his weaponry; for she was a brave woman. Knowing the beast would be close behind; he turned the next corner to arrive back in the small room. It was obvious to Nir, the Mighty, that the monster had no knowledge of the second entrance to this room.

As Nir entered, he could see his weapon across the open space. He ran through the room glancing back over his shoulder intent on catching the monster as he entered. As he turned back to the weapon, he came to a halt, surprised. The monster was standing in front of him. He guessed the monster had tricked him and had stayed near the other entrance waiting for his return. In a slow and tragically heroic death scene, (and amidst plenty of raucous laughter) the hero was murdered by the dreaded tickle monster.

Queen PigSpit came around the corner to witness the brave death of her son, the hero. She smiled at Stoic and Nir rolling around playfully laughing. Despite her general Viking coldness, she appreciated the happiness she saw in Stoic when he was around their son. It was nice to see the change in Stoic that only she could witness in these private times. To everyone else in the village, Stoic was stern and merciless, but she alone could delight in his occasional emotional openness. She could only assume, based on his closed-ness about Hiccup, that the two hadn't shared nearly as intimate a relationship. It was obvious, though, seeing Hiccup's lack of Viking prowess, even as a child.

"No! My heroic son!" The Queen bellowed at the monster as she watched Nir the Mighty breathed his last. She joined the fray and returned fire at the dreaded tickle monster. The presence of his mother, the Queen, seemed to invigorate the hero and he watched as the Queen seemed to best the monster. In an odd turn of events, it seems that the attack the tickle monster hates most is, in fact, tickling. The Queen defeated the monster with his own weapon. As the monster lay dying, the hero was given the precious tonic of life, a kiss on the cheek, and he was revived. The two walked triumphantly into the next room. Little did they know that as they left, the monster regained his composure and slid back into the darkness, smiling to himself.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

While the epic battle between Nir the Mighty and the monster was being waged, the small band of familiar hunters was returning from the several days trip around the island.

The dragons had only ever attacked the Viking's food supplies on the island. It had apparently never occurred to them to scavenge the rest of the island. Due to several generations of this, most of the game had migrated to the opposite side of the island. For the hunters, this was a pain as a round trip of the island took around a week. Each group could only carry so much meat back to the village and so several groups would go out, each one staggered by a couple of days from the previous.

Each group had a lead and was assigned a total of ten Vikings. This particular group had become Stoic's go-to Vikings when he needed a job done. Snotlout was his most trusted man behind Gobber. He had proven himself apt in many battles and had been shown as loyal. He was well liked by the people of the village and was much kinder than Stoic. He didn't have the intelligence of Gobber, but he more than made up for that in brute strength.

Snotlout had chosen his boyhood friends, Tuffnut and Fishlegs as his officers. While Tuffnut had certainly not matured like he had, Snotlout still placed a great amount of trust in him and relied on his fighting ability, which had really come into its own over the years. Fishlegs served as his intelligence, often coming up with wartime strategies against the dragons and the occasional human invasion attempt from neighboring settlements. While not the most physically proficient, Fishlegs had proven that sometimes brain is better than brawn.

The others in Snotlout's regiment had been chosen from the stock of Viking warriors by Stoic himself. He wanted at least one group to have uniformly strong Vikings. And that this group did. Most groups would occasionally lose a man or two over the months to over strong dragons, weather, or illness; but no one had been lost under Snotlout's watch. He was very proud of that fact.

This trip around the island had been fairly uneventful. The group managed to get nearly the maximum capacity of meat they could carry back and lost only a small amount to spoiling before they could preserve it. All in all, Snotlout was very proud of this trip.

The group was approaching the lower levels of the piers of Berk now and those responsible for the dressing and storing of the supplies were coming out to meet them. As usual, Tuffnut and Fishlegs were busy bantering and cutting up much to the enjoyment of the rest of the group. He had to admit it; Snotlout enjoyed their occasionally immature sensibilities.

"Alright guys, settle down. We have to get this stuff ready before sundown."

With that, Tuffnut and Fishlegs snapped back to adults. The rest of the group fell in behind and they continued on toward the end of their mission. This respect was not out of fear, as it was with Stoic, it was out of admiration.

The ordeal with Hiccup had a profound maturing effect on him. He was there the night Astrid was murdered and watched the destroyed Hiccup fly off into the night. He changed a lot that night, resolving not only to be a better person and Viking, but also to find love like Hiccup's. He was now not only in high standing with Stoic, but with the entire village. Over the years, Snotlout had saved the lives of many of their friends and families. During attacks on Berk, coming through with crucial supplies in the dead of winter, or just generally being helpful to the villagers.

His marriage to Ruffnut had been a rather large event in the village. While Ruffnut still had a jagged personality, she was as well liked as Snotlout was. Along with her husband and brother, she had her fair share of successful war stories. She had more scars than most, but she liked it that way. While she was certainly very feminine on the inside and around Snotlout, she liked to keep up the masculine rocky exterior around the rest of the villagers. Their wedding had been one of the first truly happy events for the village in the couple of years following the tragic events of Hiccup and his dragon.

The hunting party dropped off their kill with the proper workers and made their way up the tall wooden stairs to the village proper. Most of the group headed off toward their homes and their much deserved rest. Tuffnut and Fishlegs followed Snotlout up to Stoic's hut to report in. The sun had set and the darkness of twilight was devouring the surroundings.

After a couple of knocks, Stoic appeared at the door and allowed the three in. To their surprise, Gobber was already sitting at the table. He was holding the small Mjollnir on his knee, bouncing him up and down. At the sight of the three, he set the small boy on the ground and sent him off to find his mother.

"Oy, Snotlout! The three of you sure are a sight for these eyes." Gobber said happily, welcoming them to sit down. Stoic smiled, but remained quiet. Gobber continued, "It looks like you've become a fine leader. I'd never have guessed it!"

Snotlout shot a friendly grin his way and took his seat. The meeting was customary for all hunting party leaders and acted as a short debriefing of the current state of the island. Stoic liked to keep tabs on certain animal population levels and on any news of strange events. He found that having these meetings every few days as each group came in kept him satisfactorily up to date with island affairs outside of the village.

These three in particular held special interest for Stoic. They were the only group leaders that Stoic would inquire the following:

"Any sign of him?"

The tone around the table became tense and nearly palpable. Snotlout was the only one to speak up.

"No sir. We made sure to take the detour to the cove he used and spoke with the lookout group hidden there. We brought two men of that group back and left the two replacements there. They are currently on four week rotations of six men. None of the outposts have seen any sign of him either."

The others nervously glanced at each other and back around to Snot and Stoic. The two were locked in a serious gaze and Snotlout ventured slightly off the norm.

"Stoic, should we really be keeping men all over the island to look out for someone that hasn't been seen on the island in over seven years,"

The huge fist of the Berk's chief slammed against the table.

"You are out of line, Snotlout. It is my order to keep those men there and they serve the mission well." The anger behind his eyes shone crystal clear.

"Of course. I'm sorry, sir." Snotlout quickly replied, hoping to abate the damage.

Stoic calmed and after listing out the supplies procured over the trip, sent the three home. Once outside, the three men parted ways; but not before Tuffnut, of course, made a quip about his sister and Snotlout. As he was eventually left alone, thoughts began swirling around in Snotlout's head. His loyalty was beyond question, but he could not understand Stoic's demanding on this issue. With a mild sense of foreboding, he made his way home to his wife.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

"Ruff! I'm home!"

Snotlout unintentionally slammed the front door shut.

"Quit slamming the damned door!"

Snotlout winced slightly at the booming voice of his wife from the other room. He set his hunting gear down next to a small table in the main room and took a seat. Carefully, he pulled his hunting knife, spear, and arrows from the ground.

He eyed the knife with a warm smile; it had been his father's. His relationship with his father had been just as strained as any other Viking youth. Growing up with a brute for a father doesn't exactly do wonders for one's social skills. Still, Snotlout and his father had made up shortly before his father had been killed in battle.

It was a blessing afforded to few Vikings in Berk to have reconciled with a father before their death. Each day, when Snotlout looked at his hunting knife, he lovingly remembered his father. Snotlout set the knife on the table and grabbed a cloth from his satchel.

He had washed the blood of the kill off in a river, as was his custom, but now it needed to be properly cleaned. He would clean the small amount of dried blood on the hilt before oiling and drying it. If needed, he would sharpen the edges. This only rarely happened as he was skilled with a knife. He knew how to avoid hitting bones and other hard things when fighting dragons or hunting.

He examined the edges and found they were just as sharp as they had been a week previously. With a smile, he oiled the blade, wiped it down, and left it out to dry.

Next, Snotlout grabbed his spear. It would take little maintenance to maintain this spear. Ruffnut had crafted it for him as a wedding gift and, truth be told, it wasn't a terribly sturdy spear. Still, he took it out every hunting trip and had even made a kill or two with it. This weapon he kept close to remind him of the woman he loved. Love in a marriage was also a blessing few in Berk received.

Lastly, he removed from his quiver two arrows that were streaked with dried blood. He cleaned and oiled the metal tips and removed one tip from its arrow. The arrow had broken when being removed from the boar. To his right was a tall container housing many tipless arrow staves. He grabbed a fresh one and attached the tip to the end. With his freshly filled quiver, Snotlout had finished his post hunt cleaning.

He could see the setting sun through the window to his right. It was a beautiful sunset. Unfortunately, for years sunsets only reminded him of the night Hiccup left and the oppression it had brought to Berk. Despite that, he took a second to thank Odin for the bountiful hunt, for his father, and for his wife. He took one last glance at the departing sun before standing and heading into the back room.

With a smile on his face, he entered to see Ruffnut lying in bed; a bump rising in the covers over her abdomen.

"How are my girls?" He asked, smiling mischievously.

"I told you, we are having a boy."

Ruffnut looked angrily at her husband. Her expression was intense and when she saw the smile on his face, it lightened. The two smiled at each other as Snotlout approached the bed and planted a kiss on his wife's forehead. They embraced and Ruffnut made room for Snotlout to sit next to her on the bed.

"I love you, Ruff," Snotlout said, placing his hands on her plump belly.

She placed her hands lovingly on his.

"I love you too, Snot," she chuckled as she said it and Snotlout smiled.

It had been a running gag of theirs since they had been married. While he had called her Ruff since they were kids (most people called her Ruff), she had only started calling him Snot since they'd been married. She wondered why she had never thought of it before, because Snot was a funny nickname.

"So, how'd the hunting trip go? How do they like their new leader?" She asked, hands still holding his above their growing child.

"It went well. We brought back a lot of supplies. Everyone seems to like me well enough. Stoic even said we did a great job! I hope we can keep up to his expectations."

"Ha! Who knew that you'd make a great leader? Man, we sure did mature a lot over the last few years." Ruffnut was staring at the wall in front of the bed deep in thought.

"Yea, having your dad die will do that to you." Snotlout winced a little as he said it and Ruffnut wrapped her arm around him.

Hah. Watching your leader viciously attack his own son and kill any dissenters will do that to you. Ruffnut thought coldly.

The young couple smiled at each other and snuggled in close, enjoying each other's company. Her scent making Snotlout feel like everything in the world was perfect as long as they were together. Ruffnut feeling the life inside her move as she neared her husband; and the comfort that brought. The two cuddled like that in silence for a long time until they had passed into sleep.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

The sun had set in Berk.

Unlike in the past, villagers of Berk now felt safe enough to walk around after dark. Those dragon attacks that did occur (and they were becoming rarer) usually weren't as bad as they used to be. Houses were typically still destroyed, but the attacks didn't last long and food usually wasn't stolen in nearly as high amounts. Even the number of houses destroyed seemed less.

However, the villagers had stopped immediately rebuilding the houses that were destroyed. If they rebuilt, the next night the dragons would attack the same building again and then leave. It was frustrating, but they developed a system. If they destroyed a building, wait for a few weeks and then rebuild it. By then it seemed as if the dragons had forgotten about it.

Fishlegs and Tuffnut walked through the town toward the tavern. It had been a successful hunt and they needed some relaxation. The two had become friends over the years. Despite Tuffnut spending the good part of their childhood taunting Fishlegs, the two had bonded.

When Ruffnut started spending more and more time with Snotlout, that left Tuffnut as the bully without a partner in crime. Ruff matured quickly and stopped playing pranks with him. It forced him to grow up. He put his energy toward learning archery and sword fighting.

Though Ruffnut would deny it any day, most people would agree that Tuffnut had become pretty good with his weapons of choice. All of this had led to a good friendship with Fishlegs.

Fishlegs had always been looked at as goofy kid because of his awkward size, but also because of his deep knowledge of dragons. Tuffnut and Fishlegs had been sent together with a hunting party shortly after the Hiccup incident seven years ago.

On that trip, the two had been fighting and wandered away from camp. Little did they know that a dragon had been following the hunting party, waiting for someone to wander off alone for an easy snack.

To the dragon, the duo was comprised of an awkward kid with little fighting prowess and a skinny kid with a stupid look on his face. They would be easy pickings.

The beast followed the two boys as they broke away from the rest of the humans. It was dark in this part of the forest and the humans had no idea they were being stalked. The dragon watched the boys as they yelled at each other and occasionally threw punches. Whatever they were fighting about, it was a big deal. After several minutes of them bickering further and further into the forest, the skinny one threw a punch and knocked the fat one down.

The dragon watched as the skinny human stood over the fat one and laughed while the fat one held his bleeding nose. The sight and smell of blood triggered the attack mechanism in the dragon and he readied himself for the kill.

Through the pain and blood, Fishlegs could see Tuffnut laughing above him. Anger clouded his thoughts and he readied a counter-attack. Just then, something yellow appeared in darkness behind the skinny boy. It looked as if a darkened sun was peaking through the trees.

Realization dawned on Fishlegs and he swung his legs out to trip Tuffnut. The gambit worked and scalding hot water shot just over the two boys heads. Tuffnut threw another angry punch at Fishlegs, not knowing what he had just been saved from. Fishlegs pointed at the yellow beast and gave Tuffnut a look that said, "Look, you idiot."

By now, the dragon was right over Tuffnut's body readying a fatal shot of boiling water. Tuffnut finally noticed the dragon and was frozen with fear, unable to move or speak. He visibly shook and emptied his bladder. Tears were welling beneath his eyes and he prayed to Odin to accept his soul. He couldn't see Fishlegs anymore and assumed that he had run off into the woods while the running was good.

All of the dragon's attention was focused on this next blast. Being a dragon that fired boiling water rather than fire meant that shots took longer for the dragon to heat. Tuffnut could hear the boiling sound from within the dragon and braced himself for the blow. He shut his eyes and lamented that the last thing on this earth that he would see was the ugly face of this beast.

Pain erupted seconds later as his face lit up with an agony he had never known. Time seemed to slow, to allow him to feel every ounce of pain the dragon would give him before the end. He yelled with the pain of a thousand daggers impaling his face. If his eyes had been opened, he was sure they'd have burnt out of his skull by now. Beneath this torture, he felt a thump across his body. Something heavy had dropped across him.

The excruciating pain still seared his face, but death did not come. He chanced an eye open and was shocked to see the body of the dragon lying across him. To his right, he could see Fishlegs with a giant heart in his hands. He was covered in blood but had a smile on his face. He walked over to Tuffnut, who was still underneath the corpse of the Scaldron.

"I remembered that Scaldron's have a weak spot just in front of their back legs. It's membranous back there so that they can soak up water easier. Perfect place for a broadsword to pierce. You're lucky that I got him and emptied his water reserves before he could boil you up," Fishlegs smiled and started moving the long neck of the creature off Tuffnut.

"Before he could get me? My face is on fire! He had to have gotten me!" Tuffnut yelled rather harshly.

"Oh get off it. You're fine. I see where maybe two drops hit your face. I mean, just look at my hands!"

Fishlegs shoved his hands forward and Tuffnut could see the damage. It was obvious that when Fishlegs had stabbed the dragon, its boiling water reserves had emptied through the wound and spilled all over his hands.

"… Thank you, Fish." Tuffnut managed to say as he laid back and savored being alive.

When the two returned to the camp, Fishlegs had presented the heart of the Scaldron to their hunting leader. The group recovered the body; field dressed it, and returned home with the spoils. Thanks to their antics, the hunting group got to come home several days early and spend some extra time with their families.

From that day on, Tuffnut was never mean to Fishlegs again. The two become good friends and were an excellent hunting team. They moved up the chain of command just behind Snotlout and Ruffnut. They were now an excellent team together with Snotlout, being three separate parts of a stronger more intelligent whole. Together, they had beaten overwhelming odds on more than one occasion.

Tonight, after the hunt, and while drinking up in the tavern, they reminisced about the past and postured on how ugly Snot and Ruff's kid would be. They laughed together long into the night.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXO

The night was pitch black. Silence clung to the air and the stillness was complete.

Ruffnut and Snotlout lay in bed asleep. Their child kicked slightly against Ruffnut's ribs but didn't wake her. Snotlout had an arm over her side and a hand on her enlarged abdomen. Moonlight shown in through the open curtains and threw a blanket of soft light across the family. Their dreams were peaceful and happy.

Across the village, Tuffnut and Fishlegs slept with their heads down on a tavern table. The two had enjoyed their ale until they succumbed to it. The bar tender was used to these two and gave the men a wry grin as he dried off freshly washed mugs. He would wake them up and send them on their way as he was leaving for the evening; they were usually good about paying their evening's tab and leaving a bit extra for his troubles.

At the head of the village, Stoic slept less peacefully than Snotlout. His dreams had been troubled lately; and to top it off, today had been the day for news on Hiccup. Despite the lack of any real news in years, his mind wouldn't let him forget the trauma unleashed on the village those years ago.

Gobber also was having a rough time sleeping. He was always disappointed to hear nothing from the outposts about Hiccup. Being the eternal optimist was tough sometimes. In his heart, he still held out hope that Hiccup and Stoic could be reconciled; even if his mind told him otherwise. To him, the village had been too quiet on most days since Hiccup left. Tonight, the quiet was almost deafening.

The bartender had finished drying the last of his dishes and was preparing to leave. He shook Fishlegs who barely opened his eyes. He mumbled something and the bartender chuckled. Before he could shake Fishlegs again, the entire building shook. The man fell over and the heat in the room erupted. Fishlegs jumped straight up.

It seemed to Fishlegs that the Earth was engulfed in flames. In fact, it was. The bar around them had been nearly entirely incinerated and the flames were quickly encroaching on the three men. It was all Fishlegs could do to hoist the bartender from the group and wake Tuffnut. The three scrambled quickly from the building to the cool air outside. They glanced up in fear.

The explosion at the tavern shook the entire village. Snotlout was nearly thrown out of bed by his surprised wife. The soft moonlight that had encompassed them was replaced now with the rise and fall of firelight. Through their window, they could see the burning tavern and the buildings around it being swallowed up by the spreading flames.

Snotlout was now yelling now at his wife to get into the stone cellar they had below the house. More explosions rocked the foundation and the thunderous noise of burning wreckage closed in on them. Ruffnut had fear in her eyes and was clutching her stomach. Her husband glanced at her stomach with terror in his eyes, but she caught his glance and gave him a reassuring nod that their child was ok. A brief expression of relief crossed his face and he clutched her to aid her descent into the cellar.

Her foot was on the top step when the house shook again and the wooden ceiling erupted into flames. The heat poured over the two as she lost her footing and slid several steps down. Snotlout kept a tight grip under her arms and managed to keep her from falling headlong down the stairs. The noise now was deafening. The two could only hear the sound of their burning home.

At the bottom of the stone steps, he rolled the large boulder serving as a doorway from the path to allow her entrance. Once she was inside, she held her hand to her husband; but with sadness in his eyes, he pulled his hand back. She saw him yell what looked like "I love you," but she could not hear him. With tears in his eyes, he rolled the boulder back into place.

The room was cool but dark. Only slivers of firelight broke in through the edges of the rock doorway. Most houses in Berk had a similar type of underground stone room. These places protected the young and the weak when such attacks happened. Fire could not get at the occupants and the room was naturally cool enough to suppress the heat of the flames. Each family kept some amount of food stocked below in case enough of the house collapsing in front of the doorway, causing the rescuers to take a few days to reach their families.

Ruffnut took a seat on a cold slab of rock and cried silently to herself, praying to Odin for the safety of her husband and child.

The first blast shook Stoic from his nightmares. Equipped with his Viking instinct it was a matter of seconds before he was wide awake and fully prepared for battle. His wife took only seconds longer before she was ready to fight as well. With a pained expression, Stoic asked her not to fight, but instead to keep Mjollnir safe. She relented and minutes later Stoic was sprinting from his home.

By the time he reached Gobber's smithy, the foundry was already alight and Gobber was prepping weapons. Several Vikings were trading in duller weapons for sharper ones. Stoic ran up to Gobber.

"Any sign of Night Furys?" He hollered across the counter top to Gobber.

The smith lifted the goggles from his eyes and peered incredulously at his chief.

"Of course not. There hasn't been a sign of a Night Fury in years." At this, he went back to work.

It was clear to Stoic from this vantage point that the damage was already fairly extensive. A quick glance and he figured six houses had been hit directly with fire blasts. Besides that, the tavern and several buildings around it were engulfed in flames. Another quick glance summed up the battlement positions. Men were preparing the giant torches to light the sky and several were already firing the trebuchets. Against his better judgment, an assortment of Hiccup's spring loaded weapons had been placed along the outer walls. Several men stood firing netting into the night sky.

Curiously, no dragons had landed yet and thus were out of range of the blunt weapons. This severely limited the amount of Vikings that could affectively attack. The attacks would have to come primarily from archers and those wielding the large net cannons. A few of the Vikings were proficient at axe throwing, but that number was small.

By this point, Snotlout had made his way to the front lines. As he had left his house, he turned in time to see the supports give way and the walls come crushing down. He prayed to Odin that his beloved was in the stone room. It took all his will power to continue on to the front lines. It would do Ruffnut no good to rescue her only to be killed by the dragons afterward.

He managed to find Tuffnut and Fishlegs, who were helping the archers by bringing quivers of arrows. It was the best they could do if the dragons weren't going to land and attack head on.

As the night wore on Stoic noticed something odd about the dragon attack. None of the livestock had yet been attacked and the dragons weren't attacking the Vikings at all. In fact, it was hard to even see the dragons now.

They were flying in at steep angles, releasing their payload, and swiftly retreating. Besides that, the dragons that had thick enough underbellies to deflect arrows were flying in front and below the attacking dragons. They were acting as a shield. Smaller dragons flew just inside the shield dragons and only attacked the nets that were launched their way.

All in all, Stoic was surprised by their resourcefulness. They had never shown such tactical use of their abilities before. Besides that, why weren't they attacking the Vikings or stealing food? Stoic knew that far less food was stolen in recent years than past, but they had always taken at least some.

Stoic was simply observing, awestruck at the organized nature in which the dragons were attacking. He had no idea how to combat this. As he watched, a small squad of dragons came barreling straight at him. He easily dodged the blast but watched in dismay as most of Gobber's smithy was engulfed in flames.

The blacksmith came hobbling out of the burning building and waddled up to Stoic.

"Is it just me, or do these dragons seemed to be being led by somethin?" Gobber said, only half joking.

"Or someone…"

The words came so coldly out of Stoic's mouth that Gobber could have sworn he saw the chief's breath, despite the heat of the flames.

Two more cadres of dragons blasted the row of houses to their left. The damage was far worse then it had been in many years. The noise of the burning village was roaring and few Vikings could hear anything but. The ground was shaking almost continuously now from the repeated explosions of fire slamming into still more buildings. Screams echoed through the village and the smithy directly behind Stoic and Gobber exploded in blueish fire. The explosion threw the two across the walkway and into the side of a burning house.

As the building exploded, a Monstrous Nightmare flew in from the opposite direction and landed feet from the crumpled bodies of the village's two leaders. Gobber had landed on top of Stoic and a beam supporting the roof was about to collapse. He was too stunned to move as the beam broke in half and came speeding toward his chest. The broken end of the plank planted itself through his right pectoral.

The pain was excruciating. Gobber groaned and Stoic looked afraid for their lives. Beside them they could see the approaching dragon. It looked livid and snapped at the air around the two. It was clear this was why the dragons were attacking. All other sound seemed to dim in the ears of the two Vikings, fearing what this blood raged dragon would do.

Until they heard an almost forgotten sound.

An ear piercing screech came from the inky blackness of the smoke ridden sky.

At the sound, the Monstrous Nightmare's head shrank back and seemed to cower, as if afraid of the noise from the darkness. Above the screaming of the unseen dragon, villagers thought they could hear the angry cries of some long dead person from the back of their memories.

The dragon fired two more blasts that smashed the ground close enough to singe Gobber and Stoic's hair. The Monstrous Nightmare then roared with an angry, defeated ferocity. With that, the dragon spread its wings and took off into the night. An eerie unnatural silence claimed the air and it was clear the dragons were gone.

The only sound left was the razing of the buildings in town. Snotlout immediately turned and sprinted back to his collapsed home. Tuffnut and Fishlegs merely stood in disbelief at the destruction before their eyes.

Stoic tried painfully to push Gobber off him, but found that the strength was drained from his body. Watching the flames inch closer to he and his best friend, Stoic silently cursed his son and passed out from the blood loss.

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