Chapter Text
If Stoick thought that he’d have to deal with Drago again one day, he’d have sent a search party to hunt the psycho down the night he’d burned down the meeting hall. Truly, he’d assumed that Drago had fucked off to another corner of the world and tried to trick the tribe leaders there or been eaten by one of the dragons he supposedly controlled or something.
Instead, he’d received word that Drago and his army were coming for Berk. Stoick wasn’t sure what exactly Berk had done to gain the attention and subsequent ire of the crazy dragon master but it didn’t really matter. What mattered is that the new generation of vikings, the future leaders of the Hairy Hooligans, were certifiably insane.
“You want to do what?”
Astrid crosses her arms defensively. “Look, I know it sounds insane but he could help!”
“You want me to bring in a dragon rider to fight a dragon master? It sounds more than insane, lass, it sounds stupid. Who’s to say Drago won’t simply take control of this man’s dragon? Or that the dragon rider won’t join Drago? We don’t know him and we can’t trust him.”
“I know that, chief, but have you heard what they say about this guy?” Astrid asks, slight desperation entering her voice.
Tuffnut steps forward. “People in the Northern Market say that he’s more powerful of a dragon master than Drago, that his dragons actually like him.”
“And if his dragons actually like him, maybe he has a chance of wrestling control away from Drago, who’s dragons are controlled by fear,” Fishlegs adds and it was always bad when he was on the same page as the twins. When anyone was on the same page as the twins, really. “People talk about him like he’s a hero, chief. He has allies all over the place, if we can get him to help, he might bring all his allies along with him.”
Stoick sighs, sitting back in his chair. The teens had cornered him in the Great Hall after a meeting with Gobber and Spitelout. It was no small feat that all of the teens were on the same page about this, such a thing rarely happened. “Snotlout,” Stoick says suddenly, looking over to his nephew. “You haven’t said anything. What do you think about all this?”
Snotlout jumps, reaching up to adjust his helmet. “I…it’s risky,” he admits, cautious in a way he hadn’t been before his cousin had disappeared. “But what other choice do we have? It’s either take a risk with the dragon rider or try and fight Drago’s dragon army on our own. And one of those things sounds really stupid but the other one sounds like suicide.”
“I hate it when you all agree,” Stoick replies wearily. “Fine. If you can get him to agree, I will concede to allowing him to help and whatever terms he sets, as long as they’re within our capabilities.”
Astrid smiles, nodding decisively. “We won’t let you down, chief.”
That was what Stoick was worried about.
He’d heard about this dragon rider. A mysterious figure who flew on the back of a Night Fury and devastated his enemies. Nobody aside from his allies knew who he was and his allies were all rather tight-lipped about it. The rider had never had a reason to visit Berk before and Stoick had hoped to never give him a reason to. They had enough problems on their hands without adding a dragon rider into the mix. Some said that he and his Night Fury were two halves of the same soul, others claimed that the man was a dragon himself - that he had sprouted inky black wings of his own and flown alongside his dragon.
The dragon rider was something of a legend. He was known to solve conflicts between man and dragon but he had never taken the life of a dragon, some said that he’d risked his own instead. Some of the stories revolving around the rider were tall tales, whispers shared in a pub after a pint too many. Too-long teeth and eyes that shone toxic green in the night. A baby left to the mercy of the dragons, raised among them. A boy more beast than human.
Stoick wasn’t sure what he believed but he did know that he didn’t trust this rider. Dragons were not friends. Dragons stole livestock and devastated villages and tore apart families. Stoick hadn’t seen a raid in roughly five years but the effects of them were lasting. Trade relationships that needed to be built from scratch, alliances within the archipelago that needed to be repaired and maintained, conflicts within the tribe, not enough food and too many people, and so on and so forth.
A man on a dragon could only bring trouble. Drago had proved that much.
But Snotlout was right. They had to try and this was really their only option. If this is how Stoick went out, he could go knowing that he did everything he could to save his people. “You’ll leave in the morning,” he instructs. “Pack what you need and take our fastest ship.”
“We’ll head for the Northern Market and see if we can track him down. If he hears that we need help, he might come to us,” Astrid replies. “Fishlegs, go collect as many maps of the Northern Market and the surrounding areas as you can find. Snotlout, gather food and water. Twins, get weapons, firestarters, and anything else that we might need. And try not to break anything! I’m going to write up a formal request for help.”
The teens split off to do their assigned tasks and Stoick sinks down where he sits. Gobber appears in the doorway, taking in the haggard appearance of his closest friend. “Stoick. Talk to him.”
Stoick looks up, nodding. He should. Talking to his boy always made him feel better.