25. Astrid's Idea

Two months.

The increased raids, the food shortage. It’s been going on for two months. Almost three.

Summer was on its way out, and Autumn was creeping into Berk. The damp, rainy days morphing into cold, dry ones. It wouldn’t be long until the snow started, meaning less crops for the already starving village. Hibernating animals also meant less furs for warmth.

The village was in a perpetually unfinished state. Another raid would start before they’d finished rebuilding, leaving even more of the village destroyed. They could even barely defend themselves, thanks to the shoddy weapons.

Gobber was rarely seen these days. Training a new blacksmith was a long process, and time was not on their side here.

It was getting to the point where some Vikings didn’t even bother with fixing their homes. They just got used to living in a pile of scorched trash.

Living in a pile of scorched trash…that’s what life on Berk was like right now.

If morale was low before, it was abysmal now.

Astrid Hofferson sat on a hill, overlooking her village. The cold breeze blowing through her blonde hair, and leaving its bitter mark on her face. Her beloved axe sitting just to the side of her, on the brittle grass. She was deep in thought, wracking her brain to try and figure out what they could do. What she could do. How could she end this war?

She noticed boats approaching in the distant waters, and remembered she wasn’t the only one who was thinking this way.

Chief Stoick was no longer as distant and despondent as he was before. He was lucid once more, and completely devoted to helping his people through this crisis.

Though he still wasn’t 100% all there. He was angry, all the time. More furious than his usual brand of anger. And if anyone or anything were to remind him of Hiccup, the shouting would start up again.

However, this time the shouting was coherent. He would curse Hiccup’s name, call him a traitor, a demon, and all sorts of expletives. He’d loudly proclaim that Berk didn’t need a runt, a mistake, a walking disaster, a hiccup like him around.

Astrid noticed at times, what looked to be a flash of regret in his features whenever he ranted like this. But she was certain she was seeing things.

Stoick had called a meeting, with several other chiefs from around the archipelago. To discuss the war with dragons, their increased aggressiveness, and how to finally put an end to it.

Astrid wasn’t convinced it would work. They’d had meetings like this before, no one ever came up with a good plan. The most agreed upon course of action was always to find the dragon’s nesting grounds, and take it out. But nobody could actually find the nest.

The nest…

Astrid had been thinking about the nest a lot recently. Whenever the dragons would attack, whenever she’d see a seagull in the distance and mistake it for an incoming reptile, or whenever she had a free moment of time.

If they could just find that nest, their problems would all be over. The dragons would go somewhere else, they’d finally be able to live in peace.

Astrid wasn’t big on thinking. She was much more of an attack first, ask questions never kind of girl. But whenever she did use her brain, she could be pretty clever.

And one idea she had kept invading her mind, over and over. No matter how much she tried to dismiss it.

It was treasonous, it was stupid, it was un-Viking!

But the thought just wouldn’t leave her.

“What if only a dragon could find a dragon nest…”

It was a concept she’d thought up while training in the woods. What if they couldn’t find the nest, because only a dragon could locate it? It sounded silly, but it began to sound less silly the more she thought about it. It even started to make sense.

Alright, fine. Only a dragon can find the nest. What’s she going to do with this information?

Her thoughts turned to the traitor of Berk. That boy, that runt, had somehow bent a Night Fury to his will. The most powerful of dragons, the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself, obeyed the fishbone’s every command.

And it got her thinking. If Hiccup the Useless could break a Night Fury, a real Viking like herself could easily do the same for a lesser species of dragon. How hard could it be?

If she could get a dragon to obey her, she could get it to take her to the nest. Once she knew where it was, she’d head back and tell the village. They’d launch a full-scale attack, and finally drive the beasts away for good.

And then, she’d kill the creature she’d tamed. Just for good measure.

For days, this plan has consumed her thoughts. The very concept was worth her being exiled, but imagine the benefits if it worked?  Berk, free of the draconic scourge!

She wouldn’t be doing this because she was a dragon loving freak, she’d be doing this to save her people.

And seeing how bad things were getting, with no signs of stopping…she was becoming desperate.

She would do anything for the people of Berk.

As she watched the multitude of ships pull into Berk’s docks, all harboring chiefs who were ready to hold a useless meeting that would do nothing to solve their problems, she felt something spark from within her.

Determination.

This was never going to stop. The dragons were never going to stop. Unless she did something.

She would train a dragon. She had to. It was the only way.

But how?

…Hiccup!

Hiccup was a dweeb, he was always doodling in that sketchbook of his. Instead of doing something useful.

When he abandoned Berk, he’d left a multitude of items behind. It was suggested that they be thrown out, but Stoick insisted he keep them. He said he go through them all, keep anything useful, and toss the rest.

He still hadn’t.

If Hiccup’s sketchbook was there, it had to be full of notes he took while wrangling that Night Fury. She could use this info to help her gain control over a dragon, and finally end their suffering!

She stood up, axe in hand. And made her way back to the village.

She knew her mission.

Infiltrate the chief’s hut, go to Hiccup’s room, find that sketchbook…

And figure out how to train a dragon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As their boat pulled into the docks, Berk’s massive spiraling mountain towering above them, her mother pulled her aside.

She leaned down, her knee being swallowed by her rather large bosom, and whispered. “Listen, Camicazi. That muttonhead Stoick is having a meltdown, because his son up and left with a Night Fury of all things…” The blonde girl nodded. She’d heard this story.

Her mother continued. “So while we’re on Berk, I need you to not bring up Hiccup. We don’t need that yak-brain throwing a tantrum while the rest of us are trying to conduct business. Got that? Don’t talk about Hiccup.” Camicazi nodded again, and her mother released her with a satisfied huff.

As Big-Boobied Bertha, chief of the Bog-Burglar Tribe, left to attend other matters. Her daughter, eleven-year-old Camicazi, grew a wicked smirk.

Whenever they had to visit Berk for diplomatic purposes, she’d wind up bored out of her mind. She found the island painfully dull.

She’d take any chance to spice things up.

She was gonna talk about Hiccup.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Camicazi was stunned. She’d always thought Berk was a dump, but this is ridiculous.

She was allowed to wander the village, as her mother met up with the other chiefs. Waiting for Stoick to arrive from a quick fishing trip. The Berkians were desperately trying to gather whatever food they could before winter.

Big mistake. An unattended Camicazi is a dangerous Camicazi.

She roamed the town, taking in the charred sights. Half the village was burned to cinders, and they weren’t even trying to fix anything. How were these people living like this?

The dragons were getting crazy on her island too, but it wasn’t anywhere near this bad.

Camicazi shifted her focus back to her current objective. Talk to people about Hiccup, and see what reactions she would get.

She heard some scuffling, and followed the noise to see a pair of teens wrestling in the dirt. She smirked, as she knew these two from her previous Berk visits.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut, total morons. She’d found her targets.

She put on her most innocent smile, and approached the two. “Excuse me?”

The tussling teens halted their scrapping, and look to their young observer. “Isn’t that Bertha’s kid?” The girl twin asked. The boy twin abruptly stood, and backed away. Trembling with fear.

“She’s a Bog-Burglar! They steal everything! They’ll steal your furniture, and your underwear, and your brain!” He held his helmet down, keeping it tightly on his head. Presumably to protect his brain.

“Not much to steal there…” Camicazi thought. “I’m sorry for disturbing you, I just had a question!” They both looked to her inquisitively. “What do you know about Hiccup?”

Tuffnut chuckled. “Hiccup? Yeah sure, I knew that guy. Basically grew up with him! He was- “His speech was interrupted by his sister’s hand slapping over his mouth.

“We don’t talk about Hiccup!” She harshly whispered. He removed her hand from his face with a sneer.

“Hey, come on! The kid asked a legitimate question, who am I to deny her my endless knowledge?” He brushed off his sister’s cautious words, and continued to speak to the child.

“Hiccup was useless! He was always screwing everything up. But not in a fun way, like we do! He did it in an annoying way. Then he started doing good in the ring, which was crazy. Then we found out he had a Night Fury, which was crazier- “He yelped as he was yanked back by Ruffnut, grabbing ahold of his dreadlocks.

“We don’t talk about Hiccup, no, no, no!” She turned back to Camicazi to repeat her warning. “We don’t talk about Hiccup!”

However, Ruffnut couldn’t resist spreading some gossip. Besides, rules were meant to be broken.

She began to tell Camicazi about the former heir to Berk, with Tuffnut interjecting here and there. The way they were speaking and moving was so vivid and dynamic, Camicazi almost felt like they were singing.

“But!

It was a dragon raid! (It was a dragon raid!)

We were getting ready, there were dragons all over the sky! (Flying around in the sky!)

Hiccup walks in with a mischievous grin. (FIRE!)

Are you telling this story, or am I? (I wouldn’t have to tell it if you didn’t suck…)

Hiccup’s got this strange machine… (What is he doing?)

He aims it at a scaly beast! (Then it went kablooey!)

Ends up firing at the chief! (A hilarious scene, you should have seen!)

We don’t talk about Hiccup, no, no, no!

We don’t talk about Hiccup!”

Camicazi jumped as a very large boy she recognized as Fishlegs appeared from behind her. He whispered, quickly. Perhaps not wanting to be heard breaking the rules.

“Hey!

Grew to live in fear of Hiccup stuttering or stumbling…

I could always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling…

I associate him with the sound of clanging steel!

BANG! BANG! BANG!

It’s a heavy lift, a birthright so humbling…

Always had the chief and the village fumbling!

Stoick tried to change him but he couldn’t keep his deal…

Do you get the deal?”

Tuffnut reappeared, with Ruffnut holding a torch to the side. He used the torchlight to make shadow puppets on a nearby wall, all while wearing a devious grin.

“A bone thin frame-

On a dragon’s back!

When he calls its name…

It all fades to black!

He haunts your dreams…

Whenever lightning screams!”

Both Ruffnut and Fishlegs joined Tuffnut to emphasize the point.

“We don’t talk about Hiccup, no, no, no!

We don’t talk about Hiccup!”

Several villagers heard the teenagers talking about the chief’s much maligned son, and joined in to air their own grievances.

“He told me he’d watch my sheep, the next raid? Dead!

He set my house on fire while I was in bed!

He practiced throwing axes and now look at my head!

When you see him, disasters up ahead!”

Out came Snotlout, looking perfectly content with the state of things. Posing proudly on a fallen wooden beam.

“Now that he’s gone-

My life can go on.

And I’ll finally take what is mine!

Now that he’s gone-

The village is strong!

And Astrid will be my wife!”

Astrid herself came marching by, looking resolute. She was mumbling something to herself, that Camicazi barely picked up.

“Now that he’s gone-

With the knowledge I want.

I must go far beyond…

To protect my people!”

Snotlout approached her, and tried to flirt. Smug grin plastered on his face.

“Hey babe, I’m gonna marry the crap out of you!”

But Astrid didn’t even notice. She kept on marching to her destination, still mumbling.

“Come on, Hiccup…

How’d you train a dragon, Hiccup?

I really need to know how, Hiccup!

Gimme the truth and the whole truth, Hiccup!”

At this moment, Stoick’s fishing boat pulled into the docks.  Someone shouted over the crowd, probably to notify everyone that they should really stop talking about Hiccup.

“Tell the chieftains that Stoick’s here!

Time for the meeting!”

Everyone present scrambled to return to their original positions, but Stoick caught Ruffnut and Tuffnut before they could flee. Camicazi silently crept away from the scene of her crime.

As Stoick glared daggers at the teens in his arms, they turned to each other. “We never should have talked about Hiccup…” Ruffnut groaned to Tuffnut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Astrid didn’t have to do much to get into Stoick’s hut. The door was unlocked.

She climbed the stairs and entered Hiccup’s room. It was a basic, if not cozy space. Shelves lined with various jars and knick-knacks. A nice bed. And a desk, covered in papers.

Though considering recent events, it had a cold and hollow feel to it.

That desk is what Astrid was looking for. She approached it, taking note of the many blueprints that were littered about it. All designs for his stupid contraptions, she had no use for them.

She considered scattering the papers, but realized she couldn’t leave a hair out of place. Instead, she gently sifted through them. Slowly making her way through stacks and stacks of concepts and art before she’d found it.

Hiccup’s sketchbook. He must’ve been in a real hurry if he’d left it behind.

…Or maybe he wasn’t worried about anyone reading it. Vikings didn’t read…

She quickly picked up the small book and began looking through it. Almost hoping it didn’t have the information she needed.

She was wrong.

The entire back half of the book was devoted to his interactions with the dragon. Notes on his experiences, sketches of the Night Fury. Instructions on what he’d fed it, accounts of how he’d flown on it, blueprints on some weird…fin…thingy.

And most importantly…how he’d trained it.

He must’ve made these for himself, to document crucial findings and help him with that creature. Little did that traitor know, his doodles would lead to the end of the war with dragons.

Astrid felt an odd mix of giddiness and terror.

Giddiness because now, she could enact her plan. She could find the nest, and save her people!

And terror, because now came the tricky part…

She had to find a dragon to train.