Five.
The ships approached the docks slowly, sails trimmed as they readied the ropes for mooring. Stoick the Vast stood massive and proud at the head of his welcoming party, flanked by his best friend, his brother, his nephew-and his son.
Astrid could see Hiccup was incredibly tense, his shoulders taut as he stood to the side of his father, playing the role of Heir. He was carefully as far from Snotlout as he could manage, a new deep red tunic and deep olive leggings clothing his tall shape. A new belt was tight around his narrow waist, his old knife comfortably sitting on one hip-and a well-worn sword borrowed from the armoury sat on the other. She smiled: he had bathed carefully and she had volunteered to cut his hair, though he had briefly wondered if he should just braid it like most of the Hooligans.
"I mean, the Chief has his hair completely braided and..." he argued but she had sat by him in the forge, her fingers combing through his soft, auburn locks and she had smiled.
"I can't imagine you with long braids," she murmured. "Kind of always see you with shorter hair." His lips curled up in a small smile that froze as she grabbed her axe.
"Um...Astrid? May need my head for the visit..." he said nervously but she smiled and gently began to use the extremely sharp blade to trim the auburn mess.
"Keep still," she murmured and he hardly dared breathe as she carefully sliced away until she was satisfied, ensuring his hair was above his shoulders, cut wispily to frame his face. He gave a wry smile as she finally moved the axe away and warily checked his head.
"Thank Thor-still there," he sighed and she swatted his shoulder.
"Were you implying I may not be perfectly accurate with my axe, Haddock?" she teased him and his eyes widened comically.
"Implying nothing, Milady!" he said hurriedly as she grinned, then snagged a hank of hair behind his right ear. "Ow!" he yelped.
"Hold still," she ordered him and tugged harder.
"Ow...I'm trying..." he protested as she worked swiftly, deft fingers winding the hair into a small braid. His emerald eyes widened as she smiled and concentrated on making a second small braid by the first. When she had finished, she had smiled triumphantly.
"There! You look just like a Hooligan Heir should!" she said and regretted the words as she saw the flash of hurt in his eyes before it was replaced by a smile at the compliment.
"Why thank you, Milady," he murmured softly. She looked him up and down.
"Hmm...red looks good on you," she added and was rewarded by a blush. His emerald gaze flicked up, seeing the warmth in her eyes and his heart briefly soared.
"Thanks," he murmured. "Though I'd rather be several islands away from Snotlout during this. He's not going to be happy." She leaned against him as they stared into the fire down in the forge.
"Just remember that fathead will get us all killed and that Stoick had to swallow his pride and ask you to save us, Hiccup," she reminded him. "I have faith in you."
She saw him lift his head as the gangplank slammed onto the dock. Stoick stood up straighter as the Meathead delegation walked wont to meet them. Mogadon, Chief of Meathead, was a large, brutal-looking man who was renowned for being rude, aggressive and violent: in other words, a perfect Viking. His son Thuggory was tall, buff and handsome with dark hair, dark eyes and a smug, calculating face.
"Greeting, Stoick, you old bastard!" the Meathead Chief announced loudly. "Not dead yet?"
"I could say the same for you!" Stoick replied in his booming voice and the two men instantly clasped hands, the gesture of friendship still edged with the keen rivalry. Thuggory eyed Hiccup calculatingly, his dark eyes mocking.
"Fishbone! You still alive?" he scoffed. "Haven't seen you for a few years at the Annual Chief gathering!" Hiccup hitched up a small smile.
"Well, Yakface, the raids are worse than ever and my Dad doesn't want himself and his Heir off the island when we're being raided," Hiccup said honestly. Thuggory eyed him up disparagingly.
"So you lead defence against the raids?" he said disbelievingly. Hiccup stared straight into his eyes.
"The Elders lead the defences and I serve the people of Berk as my father wishes," he said truthfully. "While you hide, I guess?" The small lift of the corner of his mouth had Thuggory growing red with anger at the accusation.
"I fight as a Meathead should!" he shouted. "You scrawny weakling fishbone!"
Hiccup stared at him, recalling so many Chief Meetings where he had been ostracised and ruthlessly teased by the other, bigger heirs. There had been so many times he had sat at the back, excluded and abused but he knew how they wold expect him to react-and he had the measure of them.
"Better than a brainless, yak-faced, cowardly oaf!" he shot back strongly and every eye turned to him. Snotlout's jaw dropped and he elbowed his father, expecting the Meathead Heir to run his cousin through. But Thuggory threw his head back and roared with laughter. Mogadon clapped Stoick on the shoulder powerfully.
"He's your son, for sure!" he roared in delight. "By Odin, the boy has balls!" Stoick nodded absently as Thuggory grabbed Hiccup's shoulders and staring into the wide emerald eyes.
"Damn, Hicc-it's good to see you again!" he exclaimed. "And look at you! You've grown.." He gestured upwards. Hiccup gave a wry smile.
"Yeah," he admitted, gesturing round his middle. "This way, not so much..." Thuggory roared with laughter again and draped his arm across Hiccup's shoulder. "I guess you don't recall the others in the party?" He gestured to the others in order. "Gobber the Belch-blacksmith and the Chief's Right Hook Man...Spitelout Jorgensen, the Chief's brother...Snotlout Jorgensen, his son and my cousin..."
"Ah, the mutton-headed Snotman, the dumbest boy on Berk..." Thuggory scoffed and Hiccup saw his cousin's eyes narrow: he tried to calculate the number of punches and kicks this would earn him. He shrugged and turned away from the seething Jorgensen.
"I couldn't possibly comment," he said heavily. "Behind we have the warriors Hoark, Ack and Astrid Hofferson, the Shield Maiden of Berk!" Astrid gave a small smile back, her blue eyes calm. Thuggory's dark eyes lingered for a few seconds too long on her slim form, a small smile lifting his lips.
"Berk is a very fortunate place," he murmured and Hiccup felt an unfamiliar curl of jealousy in his chest but he crushed it. Astrid would take care of herself and it wasn't his business what people thought of her-or who she chose to speak to. He was just fortunate that she sometimes chose to spend time with him. But he forced his face to be neutral and gestured up the hill, after their fathers.
"I think we should catch up and then you can have to whole tour," he invited and the Meathead headed off up the hill with Hiccup walking alongside, laughing politely at the visitor's comments and trying to keep him away from Snotlout. But the Heir lingered, scowling angrily at the long, lean shape of his predecessor who was carrying off the role of Heir with some aplomb. His fists curled with a tight crack, knuckles white against his skin.
"Who in Odin's name does he think he is?" he ground out through his teeth. The twins sniggered.
"Heir to Berk," Tuff pointed out. "After all, he knows all the other Heirs and they all know he's the Chief's son. And he certainly knows how to handle that Thuggory..."
"I could have insulted him just as well," Snotlout grumbled.
"No, you would have punched him and started a fight," Astrid said in exasperation. "Hiccup has that relationship with him which means he knows how far he can go."
"He'll pay for insulting me," Snotlout promised. "I'll beat him to a pulp for it!" Shooting a disgusted look at the self-absorbed young man, Astrid rolled her eyes and stalked up the ramp after them. her eyes trailed the tall, lean shape and saw Hiccup smiling, the quiet confidence he exuded utterly convincing. Stoick was already halfway up the Plaza with Gobber, Hoark and Spitelout, bantering with Modadon and his retinue while Thuggory peered around the village, his eyes mildly pitying at the obvious damage from the raids.
"I hadn't realised things were this bad," he murmured soberly and Hiccup gave a small shrug: this was all he knew.
"Old village, all new houses," he commented dryly. "We're Vikings, we have stubbornness issues-so we'll carry on." And then he paused, seeing a small group of Vikings talking about thinking about rebuilding some homes. "Okay, gather round," he called and they reluctantly came closer: the Chief had ordered them to obey Hiccup as if he was the Heir during the visit. No one seemed happy as it meant that they would have to be seen to obey the generally despised young man but Stoick had been very clear about his orders. Facing a sea of unfriendly faces, Hiccup knew he was really pushing his luck, but he hoped he could make this work.
"Our village is desperately short of homes since the last raid and we all need to pull together to fix this," he announced. "So rather than just crowd around and build one home, I suggest we pool our resources ad build several all at once." There was a pause. "You-can you get the timbers for the frames for three houses?" he asked. There was a pause and a handful of very bearded Hooligans nodded. It was easy enough to chop down several trees as one. He turned to another group. "Can you get the shingles for the roofs-see what you can salvage from the homes that have been lost. Likewise boards from the the outside." There were nods and thoughtful looks.
"What are you planning U...Hiccup?" Snotlout sneered from the back. Clasping his hands, Hiccup focussed his emerald gaze on the group.
"Three homes," he said. "Everyone pitches in. For two of them-for the Dagmars and Elofsons-we can use the foundations and remains from the recent raid. The third, we can build on old foundations-of the Hofferson home." Astrid stared at him in shock but he had continued talking. "We can do this, guys! Everyone pitch in on every home-don't just help your kinsman or your neighbour: help your fellow Hooligans. All of them!" He paused. "You have your tasks. Go!"
Despite their reservations, the vikings nodded and separated into groups, preparing the plots, salvaging materials and fetching the frames. Snotlout wandered forward with the twins, his eyes narrowed.
"What do you want us to do, Hiccup?" he asked in a tight voice. Eyes drifting up the Plaza, they lingered for a moment on his father.
"Help fetch the wood for the frames then assist construction of the homes," he said firmly. "Snot, twins-you're on frames. Fishlegs-you too. Astrid-you and the fire crew are lighter and agile-can you start on the roofs as soon as possible. Get the kids involved in picking though the remains of these and other ruined homes for building materials." He paused and gave a smile, looking at Astrid. "Make it a game with a prize for the kid who finds the most useable material. That should appeal to their competitive instincts..." Astrid nodded and flashed a small smile before turning away to her crew. Looking around slightly nervously, he nodded. "Um...carry on," he announced and with a scowl, Snotlout turned away, already complaining to the twins and Fishlegs. Thuggory inspected the lean shape by his side and nodded.
"Impressive," he commented. "I wouldn't know how to build a home and just getting them to build three...is ambitious..." Hiccup shrugged.
"A Chief serves his people," he quoted blandly. "We get raided every week or so and if we don't act quickly, we'll end up with no village. The raids have been much worse recently so we've lost a lot of homes. I'm just doing what I can to help the village." Thuggory clapped him on the shoulder and he almost lost his footing.
"You know, I think your strongest muscle is up here," he murmured, tapping the side of his head. Hiccup shrugged.
"I think your father wants you to have the full tour," he commented and led the Heir away. "And I know my Dad wants to show off the village himself!"
oOo
By dusk, the guests had been shown the village from top to bottom including the dragon-killing arena. Hiccup had hung back, trying to suppress the memories of his less than successful turn in dragon training. Almost killed by a Gronckle and subsequently by a Nadder, his innate clumsiness and lack of muscle had ended in him being pulled from the class, humiliating the Chief and ending any chance for Hiccup to impress his dragon-slaying father. Fighting the urge to cringe back or run, he compromised by leaning against the wall at the back of the group and trying not to garner any notice as Stoick showed his guests around.
"I'll bet your son was a star in the class," Mogadon probed, his tone taunting. Stoick stiffened but with a sigh, Hiccup moved forward.
"I never stood a chance," he said pleasantly, "because my class had Astrid Hofferson in it. And she is head and shoulders above all of our generation." The Meathead Chief looked at him with a sneer on his face.
"You were beaten by a girl," he scorned.
"I was beaten by Astrid Hofferson," Hiccup said with a smile. "The finest warrior on Berk-and our Shield Maiden. I would guess that your son wouldn't stand a chance against her either!" As expected, both the Meathead Chief and his Heir bridled at the insult and began to harangue Hiccup but the young man merely looked at them calmly. He had far too much experience of being insulted to allow the empty threats to bother him but Stoick grew red and Hiccup could see his father's temper rising.
"Enough!" the Chief snapped, his face as flaming red as his hair. "The meal is ready up in the Great Hall." He brusquely gestured and after a long look between the Meathead delegation members which ended in sniggers as they glanced at Hiccup, they headed in the direction indicated. But Stoick grabbed Hiccup's arm none-too-gently as he made to go after them. "What was that?" he hissed. The young man sighed.
"My failure in Dragon Training is a matter of fact," he said in a low voice, his eyes scanning the angry face and cringing inwardly at the scorching disappointment. "No point in denying that-so why not make a positive of it? Astrid is an asset to our island D...sir. I just took the opportunity to point out what we have-and they haven't." He gave a small smile. "We both know they're testing us, challenging your authority and the strength of the Hooligan Tribe. So I will do what I can to push back." Stoick met the emerald gaze and gave a curt nod: it was easy with the disappointment at Hiccup's lack of physical prowess to forget the boy's intelligence and previous training.
"And what were you saying to the villagers?" he growled. Hiccup sighed, guessing his father would be angered at his nerve in ordering them to work when technically, he had no right to.
"Proving the point," he replied, glancing after the visitors. "We have more raids than any other island, Dad, and there is a huge amount of damage. I wanted to demonstrate that we are strong and organised. I know the traditional way is for each family to mend their own home but that kind of falls down if you don't have a family. So I'm trying something called 'economy of scale'. We build three homes together so it's more efficient."
"That is not the Viking way," Stoick growled and Hiccup nodded as they turned to follow the Meatheads.
"True-but when you think about it, the Viking way has almost every home crammed with displaced people," Hiccup said, his brows slightly furrowed. "So I have the village rebuilding the Dagmars' and Elofsons' houses-and Astrid's." Stoick snorted and Hiccup turned his emerald gaze on his father, who was pacing along swiftly beside him. Hiccup had to lengthen his stride to keep up. "And that always troubled me as well, Chief," he added in a low voice, as they reached the lower part of the village and started to head up the Plaza. "Why no one will take Astrid in and no one would help her rebuild her home?"
"That's not your business, boy," the Chief told him gruffly. Hiccup shook his head.
"Actually, it is," he said quietly. "If I am acting as your Heir, sir, then I have to do what you taught me-that a Chief protects his own. And Astrid is one of us. So why is she being treated worse than an outcast?" Stoick stared at him, hearing the faint edge of anger in the words.
"She's a lone woman-and no wife will want to take her into their home-unless they were kin," he mumbled gruffly. "And her distant kin said they couldn't place her."
"And you, Dad?" Hiccup asked him directly. "You couldn't offer her a home?" He flicked a contemptuous look at the younger man.
"I did," he growled. "But she refused. She said she could not live under the same roof as Snotlout..." Hiccup sighed.
"Who has pestered her and flirted with her for years, refusing to take no for an answer," he murmured. "Boy, I can understand that! And I guess when people learned she had refused to stay with you, none of them would offer her a place." Stoick nodded and Hiccup's face creased in a frown.
"But that is unfair," he protested. "She certainly doesn't deserve to be homeless just because she doesn't want to have to fend of Snotlout's attentions every minute of the day!"
"I've spoken to him to remind Snotlout than he cannot marry Astrid," Stoick revealed. "As Heir, he will have to marry for politics. A contract will be arranged for him with a suitable girl to the advantage of Berk. We are beset by raids and need all the allies we can get. And Astrid, while a beautiful and accomplished lass, has no wealth, power or influence to contribute. She will be lucky to marry at all-so it's a blessing she has chosen to become a Shield Maiden."
"I can't believe it," Hiccup said quietly. "So the tragedy that killed her family and made her homeless means she has to stay homeless and alone?" He lifted his chin. "At least I can help with one of those." Stoick opened his mouth to argue and then his eyes swept over the Plaza and he gaped. There were three new houses almost completed, the frames finished, roofing almost complete and side panels being eagerly hammered into place by the villagers.
"What...?" the Chief murmured, seeing the Meatheads gaping and staring in shock at the speed and efficiency of the construction process. "I-I have never..." Hiccup sighed, seeing Astrid shouting at Gustav to stop showboating and finishing the shingles on the Elofsons's rebuilt home.
"Okay-so not the Viking way," he admitted. "But for today, it can be the Hooligan way...at least in front of the visitors?" His eyes widened in shock as he felt the pat on the shoulder.
"Good work, Hiccup," Stoick told him and nodded, before striding away. For a long moment, the young man just stared after his father and he shook his head.
"Yeah, thanks," Hiccup murmured quietly. "Couldn't have said that three years ago? Or ever, previously?" And then he trudged up the Plaza past the almost-rebuilt homes.
oOo
Snotlout Jorgensen was in a foul mood, sitting with the other older teens and the fire crew, watching Hiccup the Useless sitting in HIS place, taking HIS plaudits and acting like he was still the Heir of Berk. It was almost enough to put a man off his food.
"Look at him," he grumbled to Fishlegs and the twins through a mouthful of roast yak. "Sitting in my place, pretending to be me and..."
"Actually, I think he's pretending to be him," Fishlegs pointed out. "He was the Heir-and the Meatheads don't know there was any change. And he's getting on fine with them..."
"Yeah-but he made us work!" Tuff complained.
"Yeah-what was that about?" Ruff grumbled. "Who knew Useless could be a tyrant?"
"My arms are going to drop off from all that hammering!" Gustav whined pathetically.
"He looks too comfortable up there," Snotlout snarked. "He's gonna need reminding hard when they leave..."
"We're all with you, big brother," Else reassured him. "You're the Heir we're want. And that scrawny boy is gonna pay for upsetting my brother."
Astrid chewed her yak roast and listened with some dismay. All Snotlout thought about was himself and his stupid pride, not the good of the Tribe or the others he was meant to be protecting as the Heir and prospective Chief. The stocky young man had protested all day at being expected to work and help rebuild the homes and Astrid, who had been hammering roof shingles on all day, felt her frustration rise at his selfishness and laziness. He tended to duck work and expect everyone else to follow his orders while he sat back and watched. She knew that Hiccup had always worked hard, she was trained to pitch in whenever possible and the Chief firmly believed that no job was too small for a Chief to serve his people. She couldn't imagine the Tribe under Snotlout.
"And a Hunt tomorrow," Snotlout announced. "Time to demonstrate my awesome prowess at Dragon killing."
"Hah-Useless will crash and burn-maybe literally!" Gustav suggested. "He almost got eaten three times in your Dragon Training class, didn't he?" Snotlout gave a nasty grin.
"And if Hiccup ends up dead-then there will be no question who's the Heir-no matter who comes to visit!" he said darkly.
"But the Chief will protect him, if he's in danger," Else pointed out.
"It would be a matter of honour for him not to see his 'Heir' killed in front of him," Yaklegs added.
"Unless he isn't killed-but really really hurt..." Tuff suggested.
"Or put in a situation where he could be," Fishlegs noted thoughtfully. Every eye turned on him and Astrid tried to catch his eye and shut him up but, oblivious, he rambled on. "I mean, if he had to fight Thuggory, he would be shamed or killed."
"Both of which would be a disaster for the Tribe!" Astrid reminded him sharply, but Snotlout totally ignored her, stroking his chin.
"That's a great idea, Fishface!" he said eagerly. "Now to think. How to get Thuggory to kick Hiccup's ass."