Thanks to HaiJu for reading this over for me. :) She rocks!

Gargle the Gruesome
A How to Train Your Dragon Fanfic by Cori

The Spawn of Lightning and Death

Astrid Hofferson crossed her arms, axe gleaming in the moonlight, and glared at anyone who came even a toe too close to her. She had spent the better part of her eighteen years dreaming about what it would be like to be a Shield Maiden. To pillage and plunder and slay and kill her enemies. She'd hung on the words of the elder warriors as they recounted the tales from their lives. She could retell most of the ancient stories about the heroes of the past.

What nobody had told her, however, was how exceedingly boring life was the vast majority of the time. When Stoick the Vast had granted her greatest wish on her eighteenth birthday – to be allowed to join the next voyage – she'd been so excited. She'd spent most of the night polishing her axe, shield, and armor. Then she'd gotten on the boat.

Four days. On a boat. With a bunch of smelly slugs as company. There was not a single word in the stories she'd heard about the pain of those four days.

When they'd reached their destination – the Bog Burglars – their chief wouldn't even let them off the dock, much less listen to the reason they'd come. The woman had simply crossed her arms under her ample chest, stood on the dock, and stared at them. Eventually the leader of the Hooligan party, a man by the name of Baggybum the Beerbelly, had simply pushed away from the dock and set them on their slow way home.

Astrid scowled and kicked at the side of the boat, glaring out at the stars now that night had fallen. An absolute and utter failure, that's what this mission was. And now she would have to sit in this gods-forsaken bit of wood for another four days until they got home and tried to explain it all to Chief Stoick.

She couldn't help but wonder if things would have gone differently if she'd been in charge. She dreamed of things she could have said. She pictured being welcomed by Big-Boobied Berta with wide arms and full guest rights, herself being the first to step off the boat.

"Don't take it so hard," lamented Tuffnut as the male half of the twin terrors dropped to sit near her. Astrid shot him a glare as she curled her fingers tighter around the handle of her axe. "My first time out was a complete failure too." The boy waved his thin fingers in the air, as if sketching a picture. "A gronckle almost carried me away!"

Astrid unclenched her teeth long enough to spit out an, "I've heard." And she had. Many, many times.

Tuffnut blinked at her, then scowled. "What's up your butt?"

"This was my first real mission. It was supposed to set the tone for the rest of my life." Astrid watched the moonlight glint off the sharpened edge of her blade. She wasn't really sure if she was more angry, frustrated, or disappointed. The sting of failure wouldn't be so bad if she weren't trapped on a boat with a dozen people who didn't seem to care one bit that the mission had gone downhill.

"Eh," the boy scoffed. "There're always more missions."

Astrid snapped out, "That's not the point!" Her first voyage as an adult. She would forever be remembered in the tales of her future battles as having failed on her first try.

Tuffnut screwed up his face, looking ready to argue, but a loud thud and a subtle rocking of the boat made him pause and look around. The others on the boat stopped their chatter and the area fell into silence. The waves lapped softly against the creaking planks.

Astrid saw it first. A dark something latched onto the prow of the ship. "There," she whispered as she drew her feet underneath her, eying the shadow and changing her grip on her axe. The only thing it could be in the middle of the night, in the middle of the ocean, was something with wings. A dragon. Finally, a way to call this mess of a mission something near a success. If only she could kill it before the others-

A round ball-shaped object was tossed onto the deck of the ship. It bounced a few times before bursting into flame, a tiny fire that glowed brightly in the bow of the boat and throwing all the Vikings into sudden light. Astrid's eyes watered, but she didn't take her eyes off the shadow. In the light, she could see her 'dragon' was actually a human, dressed in strange black armor, a helm on his head and his face covered with a mask, crouched on top of the prow, perfectly balanced, seeming to not care about the movement of the waves.

"Who in Thor's name are you?" Baggybum demanded. Astrid watched the giant of a man climb unsteadily to his feet – he'd been indulging too much in the cask of mead they'd brought to give to the Bog Burglars and were now bringing back home with them – and silently echoed the question in her head.

Her eyes narrowed when the strange man didn't answer, instead choosing to slowly scan the inhabitants of the ship.

"Answer me," Baggybum roared, grabbing a mace from the boat's deck and brandishing it above his head. "And tell us how you got to be on our boat."

Astrid's gaze darted out over the dark waves. They were hours away from the closest bit of land. When she glanced back at the man, he had pulled a knife out of somewhere and was playing with it. It bobbled up and down in the air, confidently caught with each toss, not a care for the leagues of water just under his feet.

"Why is it I must answer your questions?" The man's voice was smooth, a soft baritone, and almost sounded teasing. Green eyes glinted from above the mask.

Baggybum looked momentarily confused, then infuriated. "I'll have your head!" The man took a few steps forwards, swinging with the mace, before a freak wave batted the boat sideways and nearly toppled the overweight leader of the Viking troop into the water.

The stranger didn't even seem to notice the sharp rocking of the boat. He just tossed his knife and caught it again, then slid down to stand on the deck. "I believe you were asking for me."

Astrid stiffened. "Gargle," she whispered.

Gargle the Gruesome – a stranger that had been wandering the archipelago for the past few years. Tales of his heroism, strength, and intelligence spread like wildfire. When their chief had heard rumors that the man had been in the area helping out the Bog Burglars, Stoick had sent the group out to come to an arrangement with Gargle. Of course, that plan had been ruined when Bertha had refused to even let them off the stupid boat.

"How did you get on our boat?" Baggybum asked again, his tone still drippy with fury.

The man moved like nothing Astrid had ever seen. One moment he was standing at the bow of the boat, the next he had the massive form of Baggybum laid out on the deck with a foot on his neck. The knife glittered as it was tossed into the air, uncaring about the man trapped under his heel. "I am Gargle the Gruesome," he said darkly. "I am the spawn of lightning and death itself. Don't question me."

The tiny ball of fire chose that moment to flare, throwing Gargle's black armor in sharp relief. Baggybum, who appeared to have hit his head when he fell, did little more than moan in response.

"You." Gargle turned and pointed to Tuffnut. "Why were you asking for me?"

"Um…" Tuffnut hesitated, startled by being thrown into the spotlight.

"The Red Death," Astrid cut in. The man's eyes drifted over to hers. In the firelight, she could see a scar that cut across part of his face and vanished under his mask. Undoubtedly, Gargle's name had been earned. "Our chief wants to destroy it."

"The Red Death," the man repeated softly. "Do you know what it is?"

Astrid slowly got to her feet, axe at her side. "A dragon. Larger than anyone can imagine."

The man's eyes narrowed. "I've seen her. You're underestimating her."

"The dragons are destroying our tribe. It's the leader." Astrid glanced down at Tuffnut, who nodded his head in agreement.

"The dragons have been 'destroying' your tribe for generations," the man said blandly. "What makes now different?"

Tuffnut spoke up. "We have a plan?"

The man almost sounded like he chuckled. "A plan. One that requires my help?"

"We could come to an agreement." Astrid's chin crept up a few notches so that she was staring down her nose at Gargle.

He was quiet. He tossed his knife a few times, glanced around at the people on the boat, and said, "I'll think on it." With one last disdainful nudge of his foot, Gargle left the prone form of Baggybum and kicked the still burning ball of fire over the edge of the boat and into the water. The boat was plunged back into the night. Then he leapt onto the railing of the boat, perfectly balanced. "You might hear from me, you might not."

He jumped over the edge. Despite the water only a few feet below the railing, there was no splash. He disappeared in a whip of wind.

Astrid walked over to the railing, staring down into the water as the ball of fire on the deck burned itself out. As the ship was plunged back into the darkness of night, lit only by the moon and stars, she shook her head and tried not to think about how the man had gotten out to their boat. The spawn of lightning and death indeed. She shuddered and backed up a step.

Then a smile flicked at the corner of her lips. Perhaps the mission hadn't been as much of a failure as she'd thought.

Having finished unpacking her small bag at her home, Astrid grabbed her axe and headed out into the woods. After being trapped on a boat for eight days with very little room to move around, her body was cramped and in need of movement. It would be several hours before the chief called them for a report on their mission.

An almost feral grin split her face as she paced into the woods, weighing her axe carefully in her hand. How many trees would die today? She mentally set a goal, notched it up a bit, and made her way to the clearing.

The axe thunked loudly into the first tree – not quite a deathblow, a bit too low – when a voice yelled a, "Hey!"

Astrid scowled, furious that her first time in a week to stretch was interrupted. She spun around the glare at the source of the noise, then felt her back stiffen. Reddish-brown hair, a bit too long for his face. Greenish eyes. An annoying smirk on his face, along with the faint scars from his first encounter with a Nightmare. "Hiccup," she seethed as she stalked away to grab her axe. Hiccup the Utterly Useless. "Decided to actually show up today?"

"I was here first," the young man said, his voice bordering on uncertain. When Astrid shot him a glare, he was quick to backpedal. "Or, or, I can just go somewhere… else." The boy stuck his charcoal behind his ear and got to his feet, fumbling with the book in his hands and nearly dropping it.

"Odin's missing eye, Hiccup, you're eighteen. Grow a backbone," she said, yanking on the axe. It was firmly lodged into the tree. Rather than be seen pulling ineffectively on it, she left it there and turned around, arms crossed.

"I have one, thank you," Hiccup retorted with that stupid smile on his face. His charcoal was staining the side of his face black. The boy rolled his eyes, his voice taking on a sarcastic tone. "Back from your extremely dangerous voyage?"

"Yes." Her tone was clipped – but she really didn't feel bad. The useless male had stolen her chance for being first place in dragon training when they'd been younger – and then had completely botched it. He'd dazzled everyone with his tricks until the final bout when everybody had gathered to watch. The Nightmare had nearly mauled the boy to death in the few moments it had taken Stoick to stop the fight. Even though it had been a few years, the memory still stung. She'd have killed the Nightmare and bathed in its blood.

Hiccup flinched away from the look. "I was looking for more than a 'yes'," he muttered. Walking across the small clearing - only stumbling once - he grabbed the axe, pushed the bottom of the handle towards the tree, and easily levered the weapon from the bark's grip. "Here-"

Astrid snatched it back. "Don't touch my stuff."

"Don't leave it hanging in a tree." His voice was hesitant. His eyes glanced at her sidelong and he crossed his arms over his chest. It was a look his father could pull off and look intimidating. With Hiccup's skinny form, it made him look like a misshapen tree.

She elbowed him. Hard. As he doubled over, gasping for air and complaining, she stalked away, eyes fixing on the next tree that would die. She could picture Hiccup standing in front of it and silently aimed for his imaginary head. "Why are you here, anyways? Go disappear, like you usually do."

Hiccup straightened. "I don't disappear," he complained. "I'm working on a… project."

The axe tumbled gracefully through the air, smacking the imaginary Hiccup straight between the eyes. Astrid smirked in delight. "Whatever." She turned to glare at the boy. "Just leave."

He hesitated, his mouth working like he had something in mind to say, but he just shrugged and vanished into the trees. Astrid wondered when he'd be back. The nuisance was gone more than not, lately – often for days or even weeks at a time. Even his father, Stoick the Vast, seemed relieved when the boy left to work on his stupid project.

Snatching her axe from the tree, she aimed for another, this time picturing a vicious dragon hissing at her. The axe flew, shining in the sunlight, and she never noticed that she was being watched not by one set of green eyes.

But by two.

It took Baggybum a grand total of three minutes to explain their voyage and how the encounter with the Bog Burglars had gone. Astrid felt like she wanted to sink into the ground the entire time.

Chief Stoick stood before the small group, a frown on his face as he listened to the tale of woe and despair. The chair next to him, which should have held his only son and heir, was empty – as usual. "Wouldn't even let you get off the dock?" he rumbled, rubbing at his mustache.

"We left, honor intact," Baggybum continued emphatically, gesturing wildly with his arms, "and we tracked down the hero despite the Bog Burglars. I met Gargle the Gruesome, face to face." Baggybum stood a bit straighter. "He's not nearly as terrifying as the tales put him."

Astrid barely contained her eye roll. From the snort coming out of Tuffnut beside her, he wasn't nearly as successful. The large man had smoothed over the fact that Gargle had found them, and that the man had trounced Baggybum in less time than it took to blink.

"You have secured an agreement, then?" Stoick looked somewhat surprised, an eyebrow arching.

"No," Baggybum said slowly. "He said he needed some time to think and he would come talk to you when he... thought."

Stoick frowned. "So we haven't-"

The door to the hall slammed open. Everyone started, reaching for various weapons as eyes turned to the black-armored man stalking into the hall. He stopped a few feet in, the doors wide open behind him letting in the evening sun. His helm glinted silver, etched with strange knots and patterns, the mask black against his skin. A sword dangled at his side.

Astrid saw Stoick reach for the nearest weapon and she stepped forwards to forestall whatever fight would erupt. "Chief Stoick, this is Gargle the Gruesome."

The chief hesitated, still taking up the weapon but not brandishing it like he was going to kill the intruder. "We do not hide our faces in this hall."

The man crossed his arms. "I am not called Gruesome for nothing. I will keep the mask on." His voice carried easily over the whispers of the Hooligans huddled in the room. "Or I will leave. Your decision."

Stoick's eye twitched, then he apparently chose to change the subject. "We have a plan to defeat the Red Death."

"So I have heard," the man said, almost chuckling as his eyes scanned the room. They seemed exceedingly green under the silvery glint of his helmet. "And you have determined that I am required for the successful completion of this… plan."

"The tales I've heard say you have never failed in battle, even against the greatest of odds," Stoick said. He walked forwards a few steps, making his head of height on the smaller Gargle more obvious. Crossing his arms over his chest made the muscles stand out. "That you have the gods on your side."

"Stories," Gargle murmured as his eyes glanced towards Baggybum, "change like the wind. And they are fickle as the wind as well."

Astrid gave a little start as her mind quietly informed her that the lean and wiry man in front of her was too young to be spouting off something like that. Her eyes narrowed as she took in his movements, his eyes, trying to determine his age. She'd expected someone in his late twenties or even thirties with the tales that were told. But, now that she was watching and looking, the man seemed barely older than her.

"Nonetheless," the man continued blandly, "I have decided to aid you with your… plan." The quiet pause before the last word seemed to hold a smirk.

"What is your price?"

Gargle tipped his head slowly to the side. "How badly do you wish my assistance?" he asked quietly. Then folded his arms across his chest in a lanky mockery of the chief's pose. "I find time as a voyaging hero passes by slowly. In return for destroying the Red Death, I would require a companion for my travels."

Stoick blinked and let his arms unfold. Astrid looked around in surprise as well. That wasn't a price – that was a prize. Who wouldn't leap at the chance to go journeying with a hero?

"A female companion," the man continued. "A wife. A strong one, able to survive the life I would grant her. A warrior and a hero of her own right."

Astrid turned her gaze down to her toes, tightening her fingers into fists. There was the catch. To be yanked from the freedom of life and tied down into a marriage. Her face curled into a sneer and her shoulders squared. She would never marry. She was a Shield Maiden – or at least most of the way to becoming one.

"Marriages are arranged within families," Stoick said slowly. "I cannot-"

"That one." The man's voice held no emotion.

Astrid had to glance up to see who he was pointing to. Then her face paled, her eyes widened, and her stomach started to roil.

He was pointing at her.