FORTY-ONE: The Return of the Heir
The Great Hall was packed with much of the village and pretty much all the warriors, the Elders gathered at the dais and facing their warriors. Hiccup paused at the doorway, trying to enter unnoticed and seeing the other Riders clustered by the Elders on the platform. But every eye was on the front as his Uncle was taking the lead, to the rapt attention of the assembled Hooligans and the Council which consisted of No-Long-Silent Sven, Mulch, Gobber, Gothi-as well as Heather and Cami, who had flown in overnight, promising aid from Bog.
"We need to strike now! We must attack Johann, Krogan and these Dragon Riders full force!" Spitelout urged, his voice rising through the Hall. His icy blue eyes swept over the assembled Hooligans and he clenched his fist for emphasis. "We MUST take the offensive. With the A-Team and new riders we can..."
"...barely make a dent," Astrid pointed out from the back, advancing to join the others. Sheathed in the shadows, with Toothless at his back, Hiccup held back, watching her stare coolly at the older Jorgensen. Spitelout was a typical Hooligan: quick to anger, eager for a fight and not a great thinker. In fact, Hiccup really hoped the tribe wouldn't follow the advice of a man who went down to the docks and hit himself over the head with a bludgeon for entertainment.
"Astrid is right," Fishlegs piped up. "These Fliers outnumber us and in many cases, can outmanoeuvre us!" Snotlout folded his arms.
"We can beat them-with the right strategy," he pointed out. Gobber rolled his eyes.
"And with the right leader!" he emphasised. "Listen-we can't just attack with Stoick in his condition!" Spitelout narrowed his eyes and flicked a meaningful glare at his son.
"Well, we can't very well wait either!" Spitelout shouted and he looked grimly at his son and then at the remains of the Council of Elders. "If Stoick can't perform his duties as Chief, someone needs to step in and do it for him!"
There was a loud murmuring as every Hooligan turned to his or her neighbour and began discussing the situation loudly and at top speed. Spitelout beckoned his son over and Snotlout's shoulders dropped. This was it-the hour he had dreaded and hoped to avoid. Longingly, his gaze trailed to the shadowed shapes of Hiccup and Toothless, hanging back and saying nothing and he cast a despairing look at Astrid. She shrugged and jerked her head, inviting him to step forward and speak for himself and he looked desperate, even as Cami sauntered forward and slid her arm through his,
"Time to step up, Snot," she encouraged him. "Look, I know you don't feel up to this-and you have had a really abbreviated learning period...but you've got your Dad and the Elders to support you and I'm sure you'll do fine! I mean, he flies a dragon as well, so he must understand...?" He shook his head.
"Dad's idea of fun is a 'hitting yourself over the head with a bludgeon' competition," he explained urgently. "He really has no clue what we are facing..."
"But you do," she pointed out.
"Meaning I know I'll get us all killed," he explained unselfconsciously. "Look, I really have no clue about planning or any of those of things...I'm just the heroic warrior type. I blow stuff up-and if that doesn't work, I set it on fire and blow it up again!" Her smile wavered.
"You have me," she pointed out as he looked into her blue eyes.
"Not all the time, do I?" he said with sudden insight. "Your loyalty is first and foremost to Bog. You're here to offer help...but should Bog come under attack, you'd bail in a heartbeat-and that just won't be good enough with these enemies. In fact, there is only one rider who is good enough to face them and have half a chance of winning..." He gestured to the dark corner and the lean shape, standing back by the unmistakeable shape of Toothless. Eyes widening, Cami stared at him.
"You aren't serious, are you?" she asked him.
"As a Flier attack," he replied as he walked forward. "Okay, Dad..." he began.
"I knew it!" Spitelout exulted. "My son, Snotlout, the Heir, will step forward and lead us through this crisis!"
"What? NO!" the younger Jorgensen said urgently, standing forward, his fists clenched. Cami came to stand by him, her face puzzled.
"Are you sure that you were listening?" she asked him thoughtfully. "This crisis needs a leader and as Heir, you are the person chosen by Stoick and the Gods to take the lead!"
"But I'm not, Princess!" he reminded her sharply. "I'm awesome, brave, handsome and witty-but fate and Stoick chose his son and the only reason why I'm here is because you tried to trick him at the Betrothal ceremony into getting married on the spot!"
"Ah...well that was fate as well!" Spitelout argued as Gothi rolled her eyes and clouted him over the head, then scratched a few symbols on the floor.
"She says...not fate but Bog Burglar treachery!" Gobber read, fielding a glare from the irritated Camicazi. "Look-those are her words, Camicazi, not mine..."
"And do we really want Snotlout to lead us against the Fliers?" Sven asked in his ridiculously high-pitched voice. The man, with his bald head, jug ears and large bushy blond moustache was a consummate sheep farmer as well as a member of the A-Team but he was also wary of any Jorgenson, knowing too well their tendency to fight first and think later. "Maybe we should listen to the words of Astrid and Fishlegs. They have much more experience..."
"My son has been a rider longer than they have!" Spitelout snapped.
"By a few minutes!" Fishlegs protested. "And Astrid rode on Toothless long before Snotlout ever got in the air!"
"Ah-but I bonded with Hookfang before she did with Stormfly!" Snotlout retorted, his pride unwisely rearing its head.
"And that was the only time you were ahead of me!" Astrid snapped.
"Ah, Astrid-your jealousy does you no credit!" Snotlout said patronisingly. "I mean, I am awesome and amazing and I am a senior Rider to you..." The blonde folded her arms.
"Snotlout-I mean this most sincerely when I say-I have nothing I am jealous of you about!" she said sarcastically. "Not your fiancée, not your minimal abilities as a Rider or leader, not your position in the Tribe..."
"Hey! I'm the Heir actually, not some former..." he retorted but Astrid bunched her fists and scrambled forward, glaring into his suddenly shocked eyes.
"And I'm a Chief!" she growled.
There was silence
"Um...what?" Gobber asked, looking around. Ingvar and Ilsa Hofferson stared at their daughter: neither even knew she was back on Berk and both of them were saddened and hurt that she wouldn't come straight home to see them. Turning to face the two-limbed backsmith, she lifted her chin and cast him an imperious look.
"I am the Chief of Granite Isle," she announced proudly. "I won the Chiefdom in armed combat when their pig of a Chief, Thorgeir, tried to force me into marriage so he could kill my unborn child and use me as some sort of brood mare for his bastards. I was less than month from my time but I fought him and killed him-and his evil spider of an adviser. I am their Chief and I have documents and gifts in my pack to prove it. So no-I do not envy Snotlout but nor do I accept he is the correct choice. And I won't accept him as leader because he isn't the leader of the Dragon Riders."
"Then who is?" Camicazi asked pointedly. There was a small pause as Astrid gave a triumphant look.
"No Hooligan or Dragon Rider should ever need to ask that question," she scoffed and gestured to the shadowy corner. "And none of them would. Only you-an outsider who pretends to have some interest in joining our Tribe. It's Hiccup. Always Hiccup. And no one else."
"Now, I may be an outsider-but I seem to recall him renouncing his place as Heir so he didn't have to marry me," Cami retorted. "Just before he was disowned and cast out of the Tribe!"
"And now the Tribe needs him back!" Astrid told her smugly but Camicazi looked around the assembled Hooligans and saw a mixture of emotions-from confusion, suspicion and doubt to relief and hope and she folded her arms.
"Don't see them welcoming him back with open arms," she retorted as Astrid turned to glare to the other Riders.
"Sorry-but who made you think you're in charge?" Ruff asked her pointedly. "You're not a Dragon Rider or a member of the A Team. You're just someone who wanted to take Astrid's place and has been riding a Nadder for a few months!"
"Yeah, missy-where were you when we fought the Deathsong, the Armourwing, the Fireworm Queen, the Submaripper...?" Tuff taunted her.
"...the Night Terrors, the Snow Wraith, the Skrill, the Flightmare, the Catastrophic Quaken, the Red Death, the Speed Stingers, the..." Fishlegs continued. Snotlout rolled his eyes.
"We get the message, Fishface," he scoffed.
"...Smothering Smokebreaths, the Changewings, the Thunderdrum, the Scauldron, the.."
"Shut up, Fishlegs!" Snotlout snapped.
"Hey! Whose side are you on, Snot?" Ruff asked him pointedly. He grinned.
"The side that gets me out of having to lead this mess," he admitted. "Look-I think if it's a thing, I'm quitting as Heir as well-because you need the person you've got back!" He gestured to the shady corner. "You need Hiccup and I think you need to acknowledge that!" Immediately Spitelout lunged forward and gripped his son by the shoulder, staring manically into his face with wild ice-blue eyes.
"Look, son-we don't need those stuck-up Haddocks lording it over us any more!" he hissed loudly. "You're a Jorgensen! And a far better Viking than that fishbone ever was! And now Stoick is unable to fulfil his duties, it's your job to step up and take charge-not run away and let us all down, like Stoick's son did!"
"His name is Hiccup, Dad!" Snotlout said stubbornly. "And he's the leader of the Dragon Riders. He's Stoick's son and the rightful Heir. He's trained and experienced and ready! I'm not that person-and if you want a Jorgenson, you want an awesome warrior and daring Rider-and that's me. And someone needs to keep the leader in check-and that's my job, not leading!"
"Actually-it's my job!" Astrid reminded him pointedly. "Your job is to cause chaos, disobey orders and end up behaving like a muttonhead!"
"Astrid, I know you're fighting your obvious desire for me but really...you'll have to deal with it," Snotlout teased her in a patronising voice. "I'm betrothed to the delightful Camicazi Berthasdottir of Bog..."
"Not if you quit being Heir," Cami told him sharply, scowling. "I'm marrying the future Chief of Berk." There was a pause as Gobber glanced over at the shadowy figure and raised his unibrow.
"You wanna join in here, laddie?" he called.
"Sound like you're all doing fine without me," Hiccup commented dryly.
"Well, yer lass is certainly fighting yer corner," Gobber commented.
"Why is he even here?" Spitelout asked pointedly. "He's been outcast! He's not allowed on Berk..."
"If ye want tae stand between a man who rides a Night Fury and his father's sick-bed, feel free..." Gobber retorted sarcastically. "Personally, I think the lad would fly through Helheim and Asgard if he needed to get to his father's side!"
"But he is not allowed here and I will object if you try to reinstate him as Heir!" Cami announced.
"Firstly, he is here and he has every right, as the son of Stoick the Vast," Gobber announced firmly.
"Secondly, he is the leader of the Dragon Riders and we need him," Mulch added.
"Thirdly, Gothi says that you aren't a Hooligan so you have no say in who the Tribe accepts as our Heir," Gobber read as Gothi scratched her staff on the ground, a furious look on her face. Then the elderly woman advanced angrily towards Cami, who backed away. There was a knife in the Bog Burglar Heir's palm-but she knew raising it to the Elder of Berk would be a catastrophic mistake...
"The door's that way!" Astrid said, gesturing but Cami calmed herself, using all her intelligence and diplomatic skill.
"I think I'll stay," she replied. "I represent my Mom, your Chief's oldest ally. Oh-and by the way...if you decide to reinstate him as Heir-our betrothal is back on!" But Astrid only gave a broad smile and looked over to Hiccup, who finally walked forward, his hand automatically stretching out to take Astrid's.
"I'm afraid not," he told her with a smile on his lips, his hand tight around hers and the light gleaming off the rings they both wore. "You see, Astrid and I are now married so you're too late!"
"What?" Cami's voice was outraged.
"What?"
"WHAT?"
"I told you they were all excited," Astrid murmured as she leaned close to Hiccup. But as his emerald gaze swept over the shocked, outraged or confused faces, he sighed.
"May want to tell Gobber he was wrong about the angry mob," he murmured back.
"But we never gave permission..." Ingvar protested.
"I don't need permission-I'm a Chief!" Astrid retorted. "Hey, I can see why Stoick likes saying this...it definitely feels good..."
"But..."
"As a Chief, I chose who I wanted to marry-and I was legally married by Chief Dagur of Berserk in the presence of Chief Atali of Wingmaiden Isle and Queen Mala of Caldera Cay and with the Heirs of Berk and Berserk present as witnesses!" Astrid announced.
"You witnessed Hiccup getting married and you never thought to tell me?" Cami hissed at Snotlout.
"Or the Council?" Sven added. The Heir shrugged.
"Been kinda busy fighting Fliers and celebrating the wedding," he replied without much contrition.
"Son..." Spitelout growled.
"Look, Dad-Astrid left Berk in sort-of disgrace because she was pregnant and Hiccup renounced being the Heir and was outcast," his son pointed out. "They decided to marry once they were back on the Edge and no one objected."
"It was a completely legal marriage performed by a Chief," Fishlegs confirmed and cast Tuffnut a dark look. "Unlike some people..."
"So sorry, Cami-I never agreed to betroth you, I never asked and now I am married," Hiccup told her firmly. There was a pause and then cheers broke out. Almost the entire Tribe were cheering and whooping while the twins were high-fiving again and Astrid's parents were grinning like idiots. Seeing them happy, the blonde pulled away from her new husband and flung herself into her parents' arms.
"My baby," Ingvar murmured, squeezing her tightly, while tears rolled down Ilsa's cheeks.
"Are you happy?" she asked her daughter as Astrid nodded, not trusting herself to speak. It was smoky in the Great Hall, which had to be the reason why her eyes were watering, right?
"I couldn't be happier-with Hiccup as my husband and our daughter..." she said and then heard her mother gasp.
"Daughter?"
"Well, I was pregnant when I left here, remember?" she said, feeling her father tense. Ilsa's face was filled with joy.
"Is she alright?" she asked urgently.
"Of course-she's bonny and beautiful," the new mother said proudly.
"Has he accepted her?" Ingvar asked in a gruff voice. There was a pause but Astrid smiled.
"Of course-and he dotes on his daughter," she reassured her father. "Dad-I know it's not what you wanted or how you wanted-but I'm where I always wanted to be-married to Hiccup and starting a family together." She paused. "Well, maybe not in this order and maybe not the family so soon either-but I'm happy." The lines of worry and strain eased from Ingvar's hard face and his eyes softened.
"Then I am happy," he sighed. "All I wanted for you was for you to be safe and wed to someone who would value and love you..."
"Not necessarily in that order," Astrid grumbled under her breath as Ilsa broke away and walked up to Hiccup, who backed up a pace. There was a short pause-and then the woman hugged him tightly.
"Um...hi..." he managed as she pressed a kiss to his forehead.
"You know, I always hoped you would marry Astrid," she said happily. "I couldn't wish for a better son-in-law..."
"Nor me..." Ingvar murmured and looked him up and down, seeing the fading scars from his eventful journey and the sword strapped to his hip. "As long as you protect and look after my daughter and grand-daughter..." He offered Hiccup his hand and after a second, the Dragon Rider clasped it.
"Of course-though I think your daughter looks after me as well, sir," he admitted.
"Is no one going to address the Gronckle in the room?" Spitelout asked snarkily.
"Where?"
"Shut up, Fishface!"
"That Hiccup is disowned and an Outcast?" Camicazi persisted.
"Wow. And I thought Mildew had moved away...but it's just like he never left," Tuff snarked.
"Because it's not your business," Ruff added.
"I vote that I step down from being Heir and Hiccup takes it back!" Snotlout announced.
"What?" Spitelout was almost spitting in his shock as Sven and Mulch shared a look and stared cheering.
"You heard me, Dad," the younger Jorgensen said, his arms folded. "My cousin is the best person for the job and one thing Uncle Stoick taught me was that a Chief-or an Heir-puts the Tribe's needs above his own."
"Like he did at our Betrothal?" Cami snarked.
"No, I think he put the Tribe's needs above all-when you wanted him to swear to obey you and thus make us all subjects of Bog," Fishlegs pointed out. "He put everyone before himself and almost lost Astrid and his life as a consequence. He's paid for his mistakes." Gothi scratched frantically on the ground, bashed Gobber on the head and forced him to look at her runes.
"And the old bag...sorry, our revered Elder says that Fishlegs is absolutely correct," he read. "Ow. Yer staff swing is still as strong as ever! She also says that the Tribe will make a fatal mistake in not reinstating him to his former position."
"Hiccup is the only man to lead us against the Fliers!" Astrid confirmed.
"The A-Team agrees wholeheartedly!" Gustav announced, as team leader.
"And Stoick trained Hiccup to be a wise and dutiful Chief," Gobber added.
"And he learned to be a brave, daring and selfless leader on his own!" Snotlout added.
"HIC-CUP! HIC-CUP! HIC-CUP!" the twins yelled, riling up the crowd, who swiftly took up the chant.
"I move that the Council removes Hiccup's outcasting for the security of the Tribe in this time of danger and reinstall him as Heir-and then as Acting-Chief until Stoick is recovered...or..." Ingvar Hofferson called. There were wild cheers.
"OBJECTION!" Camicazi and Spitelout called together. There was a pause as the cheering died down a little.
"HIC-CUP! HIC-CUP! HIC-CUP!"
"Then we vote!" Gobber announced. "Council? Who votes for Hiccup's banishment to be overturned and restore him as Heir?" Sven, Mulch and Gothi put their hands up immediately and Gobber raised his own flesh hand. "Against?" Spitelout defiantly raised his fist, an ugly scowl on his face, though he could see his chances of getting his son on the throne vanish before his eyes. "Four-one on the Council. Now-the village. Who votes for Hiccup to be accepted back and restored as Heir?"
Every hand shot up and there were cheers and yells of excitement from the Hooligans. The Riders all put both hands up-just in case as Gobber nodded.
"Against?"
Only Camicazi put her hand up.
"No objectors," Gobber announced crushingly, blanking the outsider. "Hiccup-I want to formally ask you if you would rejoin the Hooligan Tribe and resume your position as Heir?"
There was a long moment as wary emerald eyes swept across the room, There was genuine warmth and hope in every face and seeing the people his father had trained him from a small child to protect so hopeful, he knew there was only one answer. And only one he could give that his father would expect.
"What about the Viking Council rules?" he asked carefully. Gobber grinned as Gothi scratched on the floor.
"Yer know, I'm gonna have tae find someone tae buff those out," he grumbled. "A Tribe can overrule them if the whole Tribe are in agreement."
"But Spitelout objected," the auburn-haired Viking pointed out. There was an awkward pause as Gobber scowled and turned to the older Jorgensen. But Spitelout just smiled.
"What are you going to do about it?" he asked smugly. Grinning broadly, Snotlout stepped forward.
"I quit as Heir-effective as of...NOW!" he said obviously. "There. No matter what happens, I won't be taking the Throne. So you either agree or the throne goes to the next person in line...and I believe that would be by election...and I propose Hiccup...or Astrid..." There was no repentance or wavering in his clear blue eyes. "But it isn't gonna be me, Dad. I may give Hiccup Hel when we're on missions and I may have tried to undermine him and usurp his leadership because you pushed me to...but I know who I am and I know what I'm good at. And leading isn't it. Thor, it would really eat into my beauty sleep..."
For a moment, there was a glaring match between father and son and Hiccup leaned close to Astrid.
"If looks could kill, the Jorgsenson clan would now be extinct," he murmured and she struggled to stifle her giggles. There was a moment of silence as Gothi hobbled forward and swung her staff, cracking both men across the head with her staff.
"OW!"
"She says grow up!" Gobber translated and there was a loud huff from Spitelout.
"Okay, he can come back," he said irritably. "So can we please get on with deciding whether we can attack the Fliers?"
"Hiccup?" Gobber asked him clearly. "Will you accept?"
He looked across the sea of hopeful and trusting faces, seeing Camicazi's exasperated roll of the eyes-though she couldn't actually object to the way another Tribe decided to run their own affairs-and then Gobber, who was giving a happy thumb's up. Gothi was nodding, the Riders were bouncing with excitement and then, as he turned to his wife, she smiled.
"I trust you," she whispered.
"Yes," he said.
"And will you lead us against the Fliers?"
He paused for a long moment-and then nodded. For a second he closed his eyes, hearing the creak of leather garments, the crackle of the fire, the soft sounds of breaths, the little warble from Toothless. Astrid's hand brushed his and he breathed in her scent, fresh and clear and clean, a beacon amid the smoky fug of the Great Hall, packed with people who washed much less often than he did, prepared food and the finest whiff of decay. The he turned back to Gobber and opened his eyes.
"But only when we have a proper plan and know where to go," he said. "Fishlegs will explain about the King of Dragons and where we are now in collecting the lenses, while Snotlout will take the A-Team through some drills..." He glanced over at his cousin and saw Snotlout's chest puff out in pride. Astrid was the best trainer and had created the A-Team but the chance to boss his father around would bolster the younger Jorgenson's confidence...especially since he had surrendered what Hiccup had known he had coveted for so many years.
"And what will you be doing, lad?" Gobber asked.
"I just need to have a word with my Dad," Hiccup explained, his eyes trailing to his wife. "We'll be having a word with my Dad." Understanding, the blacksmith nodded and turned to the excited Hooligans.
"Right yer are, laddie," he said. "And in the meantime, we can get a celebratory feast set up...just to mek sure everyone remains on side..." He winked, his blue eyes filled with mischief. "Yer people are much more likely to remain enthusiastic with full bellies and plenty of mead in them!"
"Oh gods," Hiccup muttered, grabbing Astrid's hands. "Um...see you later, Mr and Mrs Hofferson...but I think I really need to let my Dad know he's a father-in-law and a grandfather!" Ingvar wrapped his arm around his wife's shoulders and nodded.
"Take your time, son," he said warmly. "We'll be here!"
"Three cheers for the New Heir to Berk!" Tuff yelled and the whole Tribe cheered loudly as the couple ran for the door...with the cool blue eyes of Camicazi trailing them thoughtfully.
She should need to have a word as well.