Frozen/HTTYD Chapter Twenty

[afterandalasia]

Chapter 20

It soon became apparent that Hiccup was the one to be called out whenever there was anything wrong with the dragons. He did not point out that Gobber had more experience with dragons in general that he did, and instead obediently answered when Belch ate something that did not agree with him and spent the night throwing up, Barf looking unimpressed at Hiccup the whole time. Upon hearing that Hookfang was on the roof and refusing to get down, Hiccup just rolled his eyes, grabbed his cane, and went to find out what was going on.

Unsurprisingly, a Monstrous Nightmare sitting on the Jorgensens’ roof and roaring to the sky had drawn onlookers. They didn’t seem hostile, though. Hiccup looked around and sighed. “Has anyone got a ladder?”

Snotlout was standing in front of the house, trying not to look too desperate. “Hookfang, get down here!” he said, pointing at the ground beside him. Hookfang responded by looking down and huffing smoke. “This is not funny.”

“How long has he been up there?” said Hiccup to Astrid.

She shrugged. “Long enough for us to come and fetch you.”

“Point.” He had to admit that the others were generally able to look after their dragons by themselves. It was surprisingly easy, a lot of time - feed them, give them somewhere to sleep, and he supposed that it was just so much better than the pens in the arena that it was enough. “Snotlout,” he called, a little more loudly, “go grab a ladder.”

“Stupid stubborn dragon,” grumbled Snotlout, but it didn’t have his usual venom. He vanished round the back of the house.

Hiccup patted Toothless absently on the head, then looked round to see the Night Fury pad over to the great metal dish in the road. It had been one of the fire-dishes that they used to make the torches during dragon attacks, but with nearly two moons behind them people were believing more and more that it was, finally, over. Enough for them to bright down one of the torches for good, and have everyone throw their spare fish into it for the dragons to eat. Cutting down on fish-heads and feeding the dragons in the same stroke; Hiccup was a little bit pleased with himself for that.

Toothless put his front paws on the edge of the dish, nosing around in the bits and pieces of fish in there, then reared back with a hiss, wings flaring.

“Whoa!” said Hiccup, hurrying over as Toothless starting backing away from the dish with a warning rumble. “Not you as well! What’s up, bud?”

Snorting, Toothless continued to back away from the dish, then thumped on the ground with his front paws again. Glancing round to Astrid, who shrugged, Hiccup tried to reach out and cup Toothless’s jaw to calm him down. Huge green eyes fixed on him for a moment, pupils relaxing, then Toothless huffed again and kept backing up.

“Hey, Snotlout?” called Hiccup, as the younger boy came back into view with a ladder on his shoulder. “Was Hookfang at the feeding station before he climbed on your roof?”

“Yes, he was just having breakfast.” Snotlout’s voice trembled very slightly, and Hiccup felt a pang of sympathy. Fear, his father had said. Something that apparently even Snotlout could be aware of.

Hiccup looked back to the dish full of fish guts and sighed. He had a suspicion that he was going to end up smelling like a fish barrel again. Crossing to it, he got a good stance and set aside his cane, rolling up both sleeves and trying not to think too hard about what he was about to do.

It wasn’t an easy task. Some people were giving up fish because they were coming round to the dragons, but plenty were just seeing the advantage in having some way of using up fish that were too small, did not look healthy, or were just pout and dogfish that nobody wanted to eat anyway. The result was a sort of fishy morass that didn’t much help the smell around Berk, but was bearable for the winter at least.

“I hope you appreciate this,” he muttered, with a glance to Hookfang.

He started to pick through the fish, delicately at first then, realising that his hands were already covered in guts, more quickly. Finally his hand wrapped around something familiar, and he pulled it out to reveal a red-and-black striped eel, pretty much whole.

“Well, there’s your problem,” he said, turning back to the others again. He went to pick up his cane, but didn’t really want to with his hands this dirty. “Anybody got a bucket of water?”

“I cannot believe you just did that,” said Astrid, walking over but keeping a safe distance between them. Well, possibly between herself and the eel instead. At some point, the skin had split, and it was oozing a bit. To be honest, Hiccup would not have blamed the dragons for not wanting to eat any fish that looked like that, but apparently they would eat this and worse as long as it was not an eel.

He tried to smile, but it felt a bit weird to be doing so whilst holding an eel at arm’s length. “Is this really the strangest thing that you’ve seen me do?”

Astrid folded her arms. “Sadly, no.”

He was saved from embarrassing himself further by the appearance of Snotlout, now holding a bucket out almost beseechingly. “Will this help him?” said Snotlout. “He was just eating and then he suddenly climbed on the roof and he was breathing fire and-”

“It’s all right, Snotlout,” said Hiccup, gladly dropping the eel. “They just don’t like eels. We should probably spread that about a bit, actually, make sure nobody puts another one in there. Just... get rid of this somewhere away from the dragons.” For the first time in the little show, he turned to face those watching, most of whom immediately to look as if they were talking to each other rather than watching Hiccup wrangle three tonnes of frightened dragon. “If you want to stop this happening again,” he said firmly, “then don’t put eels in the feeding station.” To Astrid, he added; “I hope I don’t have to get my father to make that a town rule.

His hands were disgusting. He scraped off the worst of the fish guts against the edge of the feeding station, which Toothless was now cautiously approaching again, but couldn’t bring himself to grab his cane or wipe them off on his shirt. Well, he’d already left the crutches behind far more quickly than he was supposed to.

“Let’s head to the well,” he said firmly. It wasn’t too far from the Jorgensens’. “Could you...” he nodded to the cane.

“Sure,” said Astrid. She twirled it round her hand and tucked it up onto her shoulder as Hiccup took a deep breath and a step.

It wasn’t that bad. He still felt uneven, as if he was walking with one foot on a step and the other on the ground, but as long as he took quite small steps he could manage. He took a second, then a third to be sure, and smiled. A glance over his shoulder told him that Toothless now had his nose in the feeding station, and that Hookfang had come down from the roof to butt his head against Snotlout hard enough to send the boy stumbling backwards.

This was manageable. He held his arms stiffly to his side as he made his way to the well, Astrid dawdling beside him. “Looks like eels might need to be filtered out down at the docks,” she said.

“Yeah.” He grimaced. “Maybe Brynnhild can talk to them about that.” Spitelout was a warrior through and through, one of the council and Stoick’s right-hand man, but his wife came from a fishing family and still preferred to be on the water. “Snotlout says that she’s coming round to Hookfang.”

Only Toothless and Meatlug were really small enough to get into the houses. Barf and Belch were apparently content enough to sleep outside, behind the house, and Stormfly had her woodshed - with the flimsiest of wooden-slatted doors which had made Hiccup smile. It was clear that Carr didn’t think much of locking up the Nadder either. Hookfang wanted to get into the house, to hear Snotlout talk about how often he stuck his head in through the windows or doors, but Snotlout was still trying to persuade his parents to put in a large enough door to his bedroom. But apparently Hookfang was making a good impression all around.

“Now that the dragons aren’t stealing so much fish, yes,” said Astrid dryly. Brynnhild had always been angered that the dragons undid her work, on top of the other grievances she held against them.

“Maybe everyone has to find their own reason to trust the dragons,” he replied. Every little step was helpful. Not just in the literal sense. “I mean, Spitelout’s got this idea that we can fight with them.”

“That could be a good idea, you know.” Astrid spun the cane around in her hand again. “I mean, you and Toothless took down the Red Death. If we could get all five dragons fighting, then we’d be better protected if the Outcasts came, or the Bog Burglars, or the Barbarous Isle...”

The thought was painful. Hiccup didn’t want to release the dragons from the arena just to make them fight again. “They’re not weapons,” he said, as they reached the well and Astrid went to work the handle without him having to ask. “We can’t just use them.”

“You and I aren’t weapons either, but we got trained to fight.” As the bucket reached the top, Astrid hauled it onto the edge and Hiccup set about washing the fish guts off. “Well, I mean, the others and I did. I guess you just picked it up as you went along.”

“It’s amazing what happens when you actually listen.”

He didn’t mean for it to come out quite as acerbically as it had, but luckily Astrid snorted. “Try telling the twins that sometime. But Hiccup, the dragons wanted to help. Hookfang came back to help you against the Red Death, and we hadn’t even named them then.”

It was fair and unfair at the same time. Fair that they treated the dragons in the same way as they would any member of the tribe, expecting them to be able to defend themselves. But unfair that they had been fighting all their lives already, and now would be expected to go against swords and shields again. And Hiccup wouldn’t even be able to explain to them what was happening. “I don’t want them sent to attack people,” he said. “Or used against wildlings. Hel, we need to think about wildlings in a new way, if Arendelle...”

He trailed off. Astrid had not heard that part of Elsa’s story, and was now frowning at him. Shaking water off his hands, he stepped back. “Never mind. But I just... I don’t know if this is the right thing.”

“It is sort of teaching them to defend themselves, as well.”

If there was an attack, Hiccup knew, Toothless would not want to leave his side. In all likelihood, the other dragons would not want to leave their riders either. Already, he could see the loyalties forming, deep enough to change the world. “All right,” he said. “I’ll... talk to my father about it. But I don’t want it to be all... gung-ho.”

“We’re not going to hurt our dragons,” said Astrid, looking vaguely horrified.

“What? No! I wasn’t suggesting that! Just that...” he wasn’t sure how he could say it. The scars on Stormfly’s flanks and neck from where she had taken blows. The Terror’s slashed wings. Meatlug’s lost eggs. So many things that they had taken from the dragons already, and now they wanted to take away their peace as well. “To let them protect themselves,” he said. “We can do that.”

He was somewhat surprised when his father agreed. “It’s a fair point,” mused Stoick, looking at Toothless where the dragon was currently perching on one of the beams and watching the goings-on below. “Having the dragons might stop people from wanting to attack us at all. Keep us safer that way.”

It took strength of will for Hiccup not to slam his hands - or his head - against the table. “I don’t want to make them into weapons, Dad,” he said, for what felt like the hundredth time. It seemed like everyone to whom he spoke jumped straight to the idea of dragons as creatures of war - not even like horses, but like catapults or ballistae to be rolled out to meet the enemy.

“I know,” Stoick said, though Hiccup was still not sure that he was getting it. “Just training them. An academy, if you will.”

Hiccup took a deep breath and forced himself to think of this as progress. “Yes. A... dragon academy.”

“And where were you planning on doing this?”

Planning was really a bit of an exaggeration compared to the fact that Astrid and Hiccup had come up with the idea that morning. Hiccup’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he fumbled for an answer, but his father interrupted him again.

“Oh, what am I thinking? You can carry on over in the arena like you have been doing.”

He blinked. “Pardon?”

“The arena,” said Stoick. “You’ve been over there half the time anyway, even in the snow. How are you coping with that?”

“Oh, we cleaned out Hoo- the Monstrous Nightmare’s pen,” said Hiccup. His father was still struggling with the idea of naming dragons, let alone remembering what those names were. “It’s large enough for all of us.”

“And you... talk about dragons?” continued his father, sounding a little more uncertain.

This, at least, Hiccup could talk about. He perked up a little, sitting up straighter in his seat. “Oh, yes, lots about dragons. The others are still finding out things about their species, and Fishlegs and I are trying to work out how to arrange it all in the new Book. Quite often we go out flying, though.”

Stoick nodded. “I heard some of the men saying that they’d seen you all out.”

The first time that it had happened, it had turned out, some people had been on the verge of running for the catapults before realising that there was a Night Fury among them, which meant that it was Hiccup and the others. Getting shot down once was enough for Hiccup. “So... we can keep using the arena? I mean, we’re not using it any more...”

“You could change the name,” announced Gobber. He threw a fish-head in the direction of Toothless, who caught it mid-air and gulped it down with a contented chuff.

“And the doors,” said Elsa. She was mending a skirt which she had ripped a few days ago, with very small neat stitches that had surprised all three of them. Hiccup could work fabric and leather both, but Elsa’s sewing was almost delicate, the last thing that he could have expected from a wildling. “They are...” she paused, frowning.

Hiccup wasn’t sure that there was a word for what the doors were at the moment. “Yes,” he said. “The doors as well. They don’t need to be like that any more.”

“And I suppose you’ll be needing some blacksmithing for that,” said Gobber.

Hiccup gave his most winning smile, and Gobber just rolled his eyes. “Well, if you’re too busy then I suppose we could just try it ourselves, right Elsa? Of course, we might be better at destroying the doors than at fixing the again afterwards...”

That earnt him a light cuff on the back of the head as Gobber walked past. “Don’t you dare. And...” Gobber sighed as he sat down. “Well, I’m not exactly overrun with tasks nowadays.”

“I thought the repairs were keeping you busy?” The hundreds of nails that had been needed, for a start, were not difficult to making but time-consuming. Then there were weapons and armour to be fixed and replaced, repairs to houses and defences to be done, and the small everyday work that a village the size of Berk could produce.

A weight seemed to settle onto Gobber’s shoulders, and his gaze turned to the floor for a moment before he drew himself up and raised an eyebrow at Hiccup. “Aye, because all those hours I spent working on the weapons, that’s still going on.”

“Oh...” The number of weapons that were damaged or destroyed when fighting dragons was - had been - pretty staggering. Hiccup winced.

“Bah,” Gobber waved it away with his left hand, currently his mug. “Gives me more time to keep you lot in line. Dogsbreath is glad to be back with the farm anyway, I’m sure.”

Or at least not in the forge and fighting with Gobber. Hiccup had heard enough of that as well. “We do appreciate it, Gobber. It’s nice to have someone more experienced around.”

It was, by now, as long since the Red Death as that had been after Hiccup meeting Toothless. Strange that so much could change in so small a time. He looked over to Toothless, who was now lying on the beam with his tail curled underneath and swaying slightly in time with his breathing.

Gobber snorted. “Because I know what you’re doing with those beasts. Nice of you to inform me of that.”

The message must have travelled quickly, because no more eel turned up in the feeding station and there were no more incidents of dragons climbing on rooftops to avoid them. Stoick talked to the rest of the war council - though it was not for war, it was the only way that Hiccup had ever heard them described, the heads of the oldest families on Berk and the most respected warriors - and announced before the whole of the village that the dragon-killing arena would become the Dragon Academy, for the training of - and learning about, Hiccup had insisted - dragons.

“Learning?” said Tuffnut, looking disgusted. “Urgh, count me out.”

“Yeah, totally,” added Ruffnut.

Hiccup looked at them in disbelief. “It’s the exact same thing as what we’ve been doing for the last weeks!”

But Ruffnut had folded her arms across her chest and was looking at him haughtily, and Tuffnut made a dramatic gesture with his arms. “We are not going to any academy,” he declared.

“Fine,” said Hiccup with a sigh. “How about you guys come and hang around at the arena like you usually do, and the rest of us will do the academy bit?”

They exchanged a glance. “Acceptable,” said Ruffnut primly.

He didn’t dare meet Elsa’s eye as he turned around, knowing that if he did they would both burst out laughing. Instead, Hiccup shook his head and set off for the dragons again.

Everybody’s control in the air was increasing. Even Snotlout could actually land without falling off Hookfang, and Astrid startled him by leaping from Stormfly’s back onto Toothless’s in mid-air, grabbing at Hiccup to avoid sliding off again and laughing triumphantly. He responded by rolling Toothless over in the air, and Astrid used the saddle to hang from until she could drop back onto Stormfly once again. It was something that Hiccup could never have discovered with Toothless, not with his foot and Toothless’s fin working together, and it made his heart soar. There was still so much to find out.

They didn’t worry about flying in front of the fishing boats either, now. The weather was getting worse, driving rain or snow almost every day, and Hiccup would not have been at all surprised if the others had refused to come at all. But Vikings were always hardy sorts, and with a few extra cloaks in place and an increasing habit of flying above the clouds it was not too bad.

He at least waited for a day when it was not raining to suggest that they try flying in a less open space. “The dragons let us travel quickly, and we ought to be able to make the best use of that we can,” he explained at the academy. “But we might need to be a bit less visible than, well, being in the sky.”

“This is Berk,” said Astrid. “There’s plenty of clouds for cover.”

“Often, but not always. So instead we’re going to try some low-altitude flying today.”

“Some low what-now?” said Snotlout.

He probably should have known better, Hiccup would have to admit. He rolled his eyes and pulled on his gloves; they were getting to be too small now, actually, the leather breaking up. “Close to the ground. We’ll go out into the woods, one of the places with tall pines and thin cover.” Some of the places that Berk regularly logged should suit, might even have stretches wide enough to fit Hookfang’s wingspan into. Meatlug would probably fare best, though. “You coming with us, Elsa?”

Elsa still spent most of her time with them, listening more and speaking less than any of the others. Stoick was spending increasing amounts of time trying to finish packing the storehouses for the winter and helping people to select the animals that would be put to slaughter this year, and Gobber was up to something with the Gronckle Iron that had him singing Viking Through And Through at odd hours. It would probably be a good thing if Elsa did not learn the words to that song. One of these days, Hiccup was determined, he was going to find a dragon that she could tame, so that she did not have to share with people all of the time. Perhaps in the meantime he could make a replica of the old tailfin system so that she could control Toothless, or a new pedal for the new one.

For now, though, she seemed content enough to ride with Hiccup, Astrid or Fishlegs. She had very politely refused Snotlout’s offers, saying that she was not sure she could handle the power of a Monstrous Nightmare, and the one and only attempt at riding with Ruffnut had ended with Barf constantly veering right and down until Hiccup had concluded that an unbalanced Zippleback was clearly an unhappy Zippleback. They had left Tuffnut to dispute the suggestion that they leave him behind instead.

“Yes, thank you,” she said now. Glancing over the dragons, she might have come to the same conclusion about wingspans as Hiccup had, as she crossed to Fishlegs. “May I?”

“Oh! Sure,” said Fishlegs, holding out a hand to help Elsa up as usual. Though he had told Hiccup that he was fascinated with her magic, he had not been able to summon the courage to talk to Elsa herself about it. Hiccup would consider that a good thing for now.

The air was cold but dry, good flying weather if you could handle the sting of the wind on your cheeks. And when they were all together, flying at a Gronckle’s speed, even that was not too bad. Hiccup led them south and west, knowing that there had been strips logged even recently in an attempt to get more boats on the water, more nets in the sea.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” said Astrid, swooping in close and shouting up from just behind Toothless’s wing.

He had to spit hair out of his mouth before he could shout back. Maybe it was time for a haircut. “We need to learn to do this sooner or later! I’d rather not have to suddenly get everyone flying between the trees.”

He supposed it was a mercy that none of them had Timberjacks. It was just wingspan that he was going to have to watch out for. Hiccup twisted round to shout at the others. “And no blasting things out of the way!” The last thing that they needed was to destroy the logging grounds that Berk had carefully maintained for years.

The twins protested, but that was only to be expected. Rolling his eyes, Hiccup hoped that there would be a minimum of collateral damage to the area.

Meatlug did indeed prove to be the most agile at dodging between the trees, although Fishlegs looked momentary petrified when Hiccup declared that he was the target to be caught this time around. Elsa didn’t look too happy about it either. But he did a good job of avoiding them, with only Astrid and Hiccup able to even get close while Hookfang struggled with his wingspan and the twins managed to repeatedly get Barf and Belch’s necks on opposite sides of the same tree.

In the end, they had not managed to encircle Fishlegs before it started to hail again, striking sharply against any exposed skin, and Hiccup was forced to admit defeat and pull up above the treeline once again. He tried shouting to the others, but the wind was picking up and he could hardly even hear himself. Instead with a nudge of his knee he prompted Toothless to fire into the air, the boom of it echoing off the slopes below.

Snotlout emerged from the trees first, smeared with mud and speckled with leaves, and with nothing less than a small branch stuck on his helmet. He scowled at Hiccup and shouted something that was mercifully lost to the wind.

The wind was really getting going now. Hiccup found himself squinting and shielding his eyes, as the others emerged from the trees one by one, Stormfly clutching a branch in her mouth. He wasn’t even going to ask.

“All right,” he shouted. “We should head back!”

Whether or not they could hear a word that he was saying was up for debate, but they either understood his gesture in the direction of Berk or were willing to follow him anyway. The cloud was coming down, thin wisps of it like streamers of fog around them, and Hiccup dipped as low as he could over the treetops without risking hitting anything along the way.

For a moment he was shocked when one of the trees ahead toppled and crashed to the ground, but of course there was still the logging going on. Besides, the ice made it easier to slide the trees down the slopes towards Berk, or so the men joked. What he did not expect were the screams that followed in the wake of the fall.

He and Toothless surged forwards, ahead of the others, covering the distance in barely a couple of great sweeps of Toothless’s wings and snapping to a halt again right above the latest clearing. One of the trees had fallen the wrong way - against the strip that was being logged, rather than back into it - and Hiccup could see a figure beneath, hear the screaming still going on.

“Come on, Toothless,” he said, settling them down on the edge of the clearing. The tree was huge, a pine six feet across in the trunk and sixty foot long, and it had knocked down smaller trees in its wake. Men were running across, but there was no way that men alone could move the thing. “What’s going on?” shouted Hiccup, but even those people who turned to look at him simply turned away and kept running again. Stumbling from the saddle, he grabbed the arm of one of the women rushing past. “What happened?”

“A felling went bad,” she said. “Hoark’s stuck underneath.”

Oh, Thor. Hoark might have been dissatisfied with what had come to pass with the dragons, but before that he had been a good friend to the family, and always a good man. As the others started to pull in to land behind him, Hiccup made his way over, pushing through people to get to Hoark’s side. He was mostly clear, but much of his left leg was crushed beneath the curve of the tree, forced down into the thick mud. The rains might just have been enough to save him.

At least when they were logging, they already had axes with them. Hoark was unconscious, his face chalky, and one of the others stood over him with an axe already at hand. Not meant for the tree, though; for a tree this size, it would not be fast enough.

Hiccup threw a hand in front of the axe. “No! No, hold off!” They might not have the manpower to move the tree, but that wasn’t all that they had any more.

It was probably a good thing that Smokefeet had not started the downward swing, and that he now held the axe carefully to the side. “Hiccup, I know you mean well, but step aside. This is what needs to be done. Hairfist, get a tourniquet on him!”

He was almost pushed aside as one of the men knelt down, rope already in hand, but Hiccup grabbed hold of Smokefeet’s arm to steady himself. “No, damn it,” he said. “Give us that rope. Astrid!” She was far more successful at pushing through people than he was. “Get the dragons to lift up the tree. We don’t need much, just enough to get him out. Come on, Smokefeet, help them, you’ve got a cool enough head for this.”

“Where are you going?” said Fishlegs, even as Astrid was shouting for the longest rope they had with them.

Hiccup stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled, bringing Toothless bounding over. His wings knocked aside a couple of people, but no harder than being shouldered past, and he obediently drew close enough for Hiccup to slide back into the saddle. “I’m going to get Gothi,” he replied.

He was in the air before anyone had time to reply, even if they had wanted to. The hail was sharp on his cheeks, but he ignored it as he sped back towards Berk, the ground blurring beneath him. Any of the others would still have been faster than a man, yes, but Toothless was unparalleled even among the dragons. It seemed like only moments later that they reached Gothi’s spire, setting down right outside her door.

Almost falling out of the saddle again, Hiccup pounded his fist against the wood, and caught himself on the frame when Gothi opened the door to look at him in surprise. She was one of few people in the village not taller than him, and he nearly addressed the doorframe out of habit before catching himself.

“There’s been an accident with the logging,” he said. It was strange; his heart was pounding, but he was not even out of breath. “Hoark’s leg is pinned. They need you there. I’m sorry, I know I can’t understand what you say,” he heard himself grow pleading as Gothi disappeared off behind the door, her staff tapping on the floor as she went, “but you’re his best chance and I can get you out there quickly and - oh.”

She reappeared with her basket of supplies and gave him an unimpressed look, walking straight out past him to look at Toothless. Toothless cocked his head, flaps pricking slightly, then leant forward and sniffed both her and her basket curiously.

“Er, right,” said Hiccup, stepping back in to help Gothi up into the saddle. She was probably better acquainted with Toothless than most of the village , and had not seemed at all concerned to be close to him, but Hiccup had not been quite so sure that she would take so calmly to climbing onto his back. Then again, he reflected, there was a lot that he did not know about Gothi.

She poked the saddle and then looped the leather strap of her basket across her chest so that it rested against her back, and when Hiccup mounted up again her arms wrapped around his waist with more strength than he might have expected from someone her age. He thought he remembered Gobber saying that there had been horses in Berk when Gothi was young, although that could have been Gobber making up stories to fill the long winter nights.

“All right, bud, a little gentler on the way back,” he said softly. Gothi’s staff poked uncomfortably through his arms, but he let it be. Toothless leapt from the spire, picking up speed without even having to beat his wings at first, and then transitioning smoothly to his own flight. Hiccup could not even see where they were headed along the logging paths, with the fog getting worse, but he trusted Toothless to guide them back south over the foothills.

With any luck, the others would have the tree moved by now. Even with how short a time it to fly back, Hiccup found himself feeling restless, helpless, wishing that there was something that he could have done there and then. He knew that his father had been involved in amputations, but a slip of a boy like Hiccup could not be of much use in holding someone down.

He saw the dragons in the air before the people on the ground, and headed straight towards them. To his dismay, the trunk was still in place, Hoark still pinned, and as Toothless landed close by the moans of the injured man were audible. Hiccup just hoped that he was not conscious enough to really feel the pain.

The tree was not budging, even as Astrid ordered all of them to pull together, and Hiccup swallowed back a curse. No, that would not help now. With all of the people here they might be able to roll the trunk, but that could do more damage to Hoark’s leg, and the branches would make it more difficult anyway. Even the largest tree, though, could surely not be that far beyond the capabilities of all the dragons together. Toothless as well might be enough. Or if not...

He slipped from the saddle as one of the men helped Gothi down, and actually managed to run the few steps to where Elsa was standing. He grabbed her wrist, stumbling into her, but she caught him and pushed him back upright once again.

“Elsa, you have to use your magic,” he said, the words coming out all in one breath.

Her eyes widened. “What?”

She tried to pull away from him again, but he kept a gentle hold on her arms. “Form ice under the tree, help us lift it. You can do it.”

“No,” said Elsa quietly, shaking her head. Her eyes darted over to the people around them, most of them watching uncertainly now, either the dragons above them or the chief’s son talking to a wildling on the ground. “I can’t, I...”

“Please, Elsa. It could save him,” said Hiccup. He leaned his head into her gaze, making her meet his eyes again, and saw some of the fear flake away to reveal determination underneath. “Please.”

She clenched her jaw and nodded. Relief pounding through him, Hiccup all but threw himself back into Toothless again, joining the others in the air. Toothless grabbed hold of the line that Stormfly was gripping in her talons, but instead caught it in his teeth. Even without the grunts of exertion, Hiccup would have known how hard he was working from the way that the muscles of his back flexed, from the sudden fiercer work of his wings.

“Come on, buddy,” he found himself saying again. “Come on Toothless. You can do this.” A growl, low in Toothless’s chest, was the only reply. Most likely the only one that he could make with the rope in his teeth. “Come on.”

Elsa stepped up alongside the tree, ice forming on the ground around her and the Vikings stepping hastily away. She knelt down, and Hiccup saw frost crawling through the bark of the tree, picking out each hollow in white, thickening on the ground around them. The winds became worse, and Hiccup could see Hookfang struggling with the force of them, fire flickering in fits and starts on his wings, but then he felt the give of the tree beneath them, the change in the ropes, and a ragged cheer went up as dragons and ice together hauled the tree up that few precious inches.

People rushed in, and Hoark was pulled out in seconds. “Let go!” Hiccup shouted, and as Toothless released the rope the other dragons did so too.

The tree hit the ground again with a hollow boom, sending shards of ice scattering across the muddy ground. Already on her feet, Elsa was backing away from the people again, pausing only to scoop her bracelets from the ground to judge by the fact that her ice vanished again as soon as she picked up whatever it was. The wind lulled just a little.

“You did it,” said Astrid, pulling down alongside him. She sounded as surprised as he felt.

Hiccup shook his head. “No. We did it.”

“Why did you do it?” said Withera, Hoark’s wife, much later that evening. She was pregnant with their second child, the first having died while still in the cradle, but from the moment Hoark had been bought home she had taken charge. “No ill meant, but... he was no friend of the dragons.”

“It was the right thing to do,” said Hiccup simply. He looked out to the feeding station, where Toothless, Barf and Belch were rooting around in today’s offering of fish. “Besides, Berk has enemies enough. No point in seeing them where they needn’t be.”

She clapped him on the shoulder, and only the fact that he was leaning on the wall stopped him from being knocked sideways. Hiccup really wished that people would stop doing that so much. “In any case, I thank you. And he will as well, once he wakes up.”

It sounded like Withera would make sure of it. He just hoped that the other dissenters who remained could be won over by rather less dramatic means.

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