This is where I belong ||httyd fanfic||

55. Convince the trader

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"How do I manage to get myself into these situations? I'm a man of many talents, and tales, but espionage is not one of them,"  the wonderings were of Trader Johann as he fixed the sails on his ship out on the open sea before the dawn.

The merchant ship had been out on the waters for a good two weeks since his arrival at the island of Berk to conduct business as usual. Johann had been visiting the Hooligan Tribe in rising frequency since its slow downfall over the eight years the young Haddock heir had vanished. Increased commerce with decreased cost bordering on charity was Johann's way of offering condolences for the loss of who he always believed to be a promising ruler. His foreign wares were a joy to the villagers, bringing back their optimistic spirits that had been worn down over time with consequence. To say old Johann was surprised to see Stoick in front of a crowd of Vikings with little to offer but grim faces when he had docked was quite the understatement.

The two sat facing one another at the table of the Great Hall amidst a forest of tall and weary Vikings, dimly lit with a sparse amount of torches. Winter air filtered in from an abundant number of holes and cracks in the walls and doors, making goosebumps rise from even under his stocked sailor's clothing. Johann had seen the subsidence of the once proud village of Berk with his own eyes, but even he could not abstain from observing the destitute state of it all up close.

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"Johann, you have always been a welcome presence to Berk, and I would not ask this of you if there was another way..." Stoick had practically begged without even the dignity to look at him in the eye. A testament, Johann had figured, to his fall from pride. "But that is the simple truth – there isn't."

"So Master Hiccup is truly alive..." He mused. "This 'Selardalr,' – I've sailed across miles of ocean, visited nearly every island in the Archipelago, and I dare say I've never heard of such an island."

"Aye, you won' find selardalr on most maps nowadays." Gobber added. "The Silent Wolf keep ta themselves mostly, have even when the war was still goin' on."

"I'd wanna hide ma face too if I went 'n betrayed everything Vikings hold sacred." Spitelout muttered.

"Yes, about that, this... 'Dragon Whisperer' business, in my experience sounds a bit-"

"Stupid?" Snotlout barked.

"Crazy?" Ruffnut added.

"AWESOME!?" Tuffnut shouted.

"All of the above... except for that last one, of course. In fact, it reminds me of the time a merchant acquaintance of mine – mind you before he got into the trading business he was something of an explorer. Well, when he was a young man, he had sailed to a far off corner of the ocean. Off on the trail of a rumor of treasure buried on an island in that region; well, he was keeping' his sails steady, on the proper course, when suddenly out of the water came a razor-toothed eel the size of a-"

"JOHANN!" Stoick exasperatedly slammed his fist on the table. "My son is chaining himself to that island to preserve a heretic's paradise! We need your help to shake these ridiculous notions of peace with dragons out of him and get him back here!"