Chapter Nineteen: Standing For

Dragons aren't particularly useful in the trade of construction, not unless you're into demolitions, but they do make good workhorses when necessary, carrying lumber from the island interior in a fraction of the time a team of Vikings could do it. With their help, the Berkians were well on the way to rebuilding the village. Most homes became serviceable shelters again after only two days, though several houses still had to be built from scratch and the dockyard was an absolute mess. Stoick saw the dock reconstruction as a pleasant challenge, intending to expand the design to allow for more room for outside traders and making it more "dragon friendly," whatever that meant.

Injuries couldn't be fixed with saws and nails, though, and the many wounded Vikings and dragons convalescing in their beds and hay piles would take longer than a few days to mend. With the defenses down, anxious minds fretted about the possibility of the Gunnarr reneging on their treaty and attacking Berk while their strength was sapped. Such fears were put to rest when a longboat flying Gunnarr colors sailed into Berk's makeshift port three days after the Battle of Berk. A curt envoy delivered a scroll to Stoick, signed by the acting Gunnarr chieftain Headsnapper. The sum total of the message was to inform Stoick that Headsnapper's status as chieftain was no longer "acting" and that he would honor the treaty signed by his predecessor. The Elders had come to unanimous agreement over Stonefist and Cragfist's "questionable" judgment. There was no word given on Cragfist's fate, not that anyone cared.

There was a second message enclosed in the scroll, and Stoick choose to personally deliver it to the Seer, who resided in Astrid's home for now. Astrid's parents had been more than happy to put up the now-legendary warrior, though their hospitality did little to brighten the Seer's disposition. Nor did the message Stoick gave her contain good news.

Headsnapper wrote her personally to say that she would not be pursued, nor was she an enemy of the Gunnarr. She was free to return home, but she would have to face Judgment should she do so. On the surface it almost sounded positive, but the Seer shook her head and explained that, to the Gunnarr, Judgment was only for the guilty. Considering that treason was punishable by execution, Headsnapper had essentially warned her not to return.

Stoick offered her a place amongst his people, but she politely declined, saying that while she knew not her path now, she was certain it was not here. His people did not need a Seer, and she would undoubtedly feel pressured to reenter that role once more if she stayed. Stoick did leave the invitation open-ended, though he doubted she would ever take him up on it.

The Gunnarr problem finally over, the last few clouds of anxiety hanging over Berk blew away. The call for a celebration went out, and thankfully the summit hadn't completely drained Berk of its libations. The Great Hall had withstood the Monolith's assault with minimal damage, making it perfect for a grand party, as boisterous as only a mob of Vikings can make it.

That night, the Hall was packed with cheery souls, mugs in hands and songs on their lips. They chatted and swore good-naturedly, sharing their own harrowing tales of the Battle of Berk. Some sang epic poems, a few of them new and chronicling recent events. Gobber tried his hand with a poem titled "The Great Eyesore of the Sea," which somehow worked in an army of war-sheep and a bored Odin with indigestion. Critics agreed that it was not likely to get a repeat performance.

The party was fairly fluid, people mingling and switching seats as the night progressed. With his friends scattered about the Hall, Hiccup visited each one in turn so to not get too badly mobbed by all the well-wishers.

Snotlout was bragging to a group of pre-teen Vikings about the cool maneuver he and Hiccup did during the battle, adding that it had gone as brilliantly as he had planned. Hiccup decided not to correct the record – there was plenty of glory to go around.

Fishlegs had his scrolls and pencils and was asking around for lots of eyewitness accounts on the various Guardians, hoping to get as much data as he could about the Monolith. He was already expressing a desire to write a new manual, abandoning future updates on dragons and concentrating on monsters and machines. He was going to be busy for a long time.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut were sticking together as usual, Tuffnut bragging to another crowd about their impressive kill count against the Heavy Guardians. Ruffnut seemed distracted, barely even insulting Tuffnut, and Hiccup wondered if she was still getting over her serious brush with death.

Even though the dragons deserved to join the festivities (and they did in their own fashion, gorging on fish throughout the night and frolicking in the sky above Berk), the rule about no dragons in the Hall remained enforced. There were notable exceptions, one of which had a revered spot next to Hiccup's table in the back, a trough of fresh fish at the ready. He sometimes got into contests with less-than-sober Vikings on who could outshoot the famous dragon, fireball pitted against throwing knife. After twelve straight contests, Toothless remained undefeated.

Hiccup gave his buddy a good scratching, and Toothless gave him a good nudging that almost cracked a rib. It was hard to imagine how he'd gotten through life without his Night Fury friend. The world just wasn't as scary when you had a dragon on your side. He felt a slight underpinning of fear, though, and that was due to the realization that Toothless was truly willing to fly him anywhere, even into the very heart of darkness itself.

Then there was Astrid, who was regaling a group of women warriors with stories about all her exploits over the last few days. Her fan base was definitely growing, many of the women wanting to know where they could get an axe like hers (and many men asking the same question). Hiccup decided not to interrupt her tale, but she did see him pass by, giving him a warm smile before returning to her audience.

He hadn't had much time to talk to her since the Battle of Berk. Too much reconstruction and too much fatigue. But she was always smiling at him whenever they crossed paths. They had made it through the battles and the chaos, through the uncertainty and doubt, and now they had time aplenty to plan the future. Tonight, after the party, they'd only have to worry about each other, and the anticipation settled on his heart like a warm blanket. Thoughts about travel, about other threats and other problems and other adventures – those were distant, hazy things. Enjoy the here-and-now, the one with his friends, the one with Astrid.

Something did nag at him, though. A tenacious thought about how things might go back to normal. Shouldn't be a bad thing, right? Except… it almost felt like it was a bad thing. As much as he loved Berk and as relieved as he was that the Monolith was destroyed and Cervantes was gone, he felt a little sad at being… well, back. Back to hiding his tinkering. Back to training dragons and working in Gobber's shop. Back to worrying about Berk's future over his own. Back to sticking close to Berk on a dragon that would rather set a course to the end of the world and follow it all the way.

But this was what he wanted, wasn't it? He had acceptance, now more than ever. He had everything he had strived for, and he had protected it from both Cervantes and the Gunnarr. Why couldn't that be enough? Why shouldn't it be enough?

Because after all this, Berk was just a little too small.

He fervently shook the thought away. Not thinking about it tonight, no sir. This was a happy occasion and he was going to be happy, darn it.

Hiccup moved toward the corner of the Hall where Arc sat, curled as tightly as his long frame allowed and intent on dutifully riding out the party. Arc had expressed no urge to fly off with the other dragons, but the human concept of partying had lost its appeal after his first few centuries of life. He nodded to Hiccup as the boy strode up to him, the dragon looking uneasy amongst all the loud Vikings and yet more at ease than any other time Hiccup had seen him before.

"You sure you don't want a keg?" offered Hiccup.

"It's not smart to get a Hyperion drunk, Young Hiccup," said Arc. "Besides, I haven't earned it."

Hiccup gaped. "You haven't earned it? Arc, if you still think you have a debt to us…"

"It's not about debt," said Arc. "Truth be told, I thought seeing Cervantes pay for his crimes and having a hand in his downfall would lift a weight off my shoulders. But by the time we fought the Monolith, I realized that the weight was already lifted. I knew vengeance does not bring relief, that only growth and new connections to life can make you whole again. But I had fallen into the trap of revenge, and that is a mistake an old dragon like me shouldn't make. So I don't deserve to celebrate tonight."

"Well, then how about as a thank-you for saving my life?" suggested Hiccup.

"Now that was about debt, Young Hiccup," said Arc, "as was saving your village. I shouldn't be thanked for it." Then Arc smiled playfully. "But you'll owe me for my services from here on out."

"That's fair," said Hiccup, smiling back as he left the old dragon to his relative peace and quiet.

Either someone had accidentally eaten Nestor or else he was practicing his new Shrouding ability because Hiccup couldn't find him. The Seer was easily visible, sitting by herself at an empty table, but she was giving off a don't-come-near-me-if-you-value-your-life vibe and so Hiccup skipped her for now.

He found his father standing around, acting like he was a proper leader of men and trying not to get caught up in contests and song. Stoick did laugh as his son approached and said, "Will you let us carve a statue of you now, son, or do you want to take down a few hundred giants before you think yourself worthy?"

"It was a team effort, Dad," said Hiccup.

"That it was, but we'd run out of stone before we gave everyone a statue that deserved it." Stoick took a breath to think about an alternative. "Will you agree to a bust? We'll put it over the fire pit at home."

"I don't do fame, Dad," Hiccup replied.

"You do seem uncomfortable with it," said Stoick. "At your age, I would've wanted a hundred statues placed all across the village, so that every future child of Berk would never forget my face. And if you asked, I'd do it, son."

"Thanks, but no thanks," said Hiccup. "Just name a longboat after me."

"You don't let it go to your head, my boy," said Stoick, smiling proudly. "You're going to make a fine chieftain someday."

Hiccup managed to act complimented by his dad's statement, but inwardly his nagging conflict made the idea of him becoming Berk's leader sound like a punishment. He really would be stuck with no more adventures, no chances to be the real Hiccup. His duties would consume him for the rest of his life, and that assumed he actually was a good leader. Taking down monstrous threats wasn't the same as leading a village through bitter winters and lean fishing.

He shoved it out of mind once more, determined to not let that nagging, pestering thought interfere with his fun again tonight. At this, he utterly failed… though it wasn't really his fault.

Nestor didn't need to Shroud to not be seen. The hulky Norsemen surrounding him easily obscured his thin body. He meandered through the crowds without any objective or desire, out of practice at socializing thanks to living in the wilds for so long. The Vikings treated him with respect, though, and he did get into an arm-wrestling contest that left one beefy Viking male with a sore arm and bruised ego. But he was still the Outlander to the Berkians, a title that stuck despite Nestor's efforts to go by his actual name, and few of the revelers sough him out on purpose.

He thought about going over to Arc's corner and joining him for the rest of the celebration, even though Arc had told him to go have fun and leave him to his musings. He was even heading that direction when he was surprised by the girl named Ruffnut, nearly running into her and spearing himself on her new horned helmet in the process.

"Uh… hi… there," she said, hemming and hawing and looking towards the ground shyly. "I actually never had a chance to thank you for… you know, that thing you did."

"Well, I'm sure you would have done the same for me," said Nestor. "Ah… not that you could have. I meant in terms of intentions and not…"

He was saved from further babbling when she planted a warm kiss on his lips, Nestor rocking backward in surprise. The kiss lasted a mere second, Ruffnut breaking off and smiling at him happily just before disappearing back into the crowd, but Nestor thought it was a perfectly fine way to thank someone. The act of saving damsels in distress might be a cliché, but it did have its benefits.

But his warm thoughts went somewhere, and someone, else. He saw her occupying the same seat she had claimed since the party began, gazing off into space with a flagon in her hands that she probably hadn't put to her mouth once. Everyone else wisely avoided her. As Arc could attest to, Nestor wasn't the wisest of men.

The Seer saw him coming, yet she didn't attempt to warn him away with words or expression. She didn't flinch or scoot which he took a seat next to her, though she kept staring at that same flickering torch she'd been fixated on the whole time. Nestor wasn't sure what he was doing, or what approach he was taking here, but he knew he needed to say something before she did or else this momentary lull in her stolid disposition would correct itself.

"We'll be leaving soon," he stated. "Arc and me. Berk's nice and they're not kicking us out just yet, but it's just too cold here and you can only eat so much fish before you start sprouting gills. Besides, we have things to do."

"Like what?" she asked quietly, still focused on that really interesting torch.

"There's other threats out there," said Nestor. "The Artisans left behind a lot of deadly legacies, for starters. The Monolith was the biggest one, but not the only one. Plus there's your usual list of crazies and madmen out for power. Trust me, you never get bored in this line of work."

"Did you come over here for some reason other than to describe your plans, Outlander?" said the Seer.

"Hiccup told me you weren't staying in Berk, even though I think they'd love to have you stay."

"And you thought that I might need help in deciding my destination?" said the Seer, finally staring at him instead of the torch.

"You needing my help? That's just crazy," said Nestor, half-smiling. "But we could still use yours. I only offer a road, and I can't say it's the best one. The miles are long, the conditions not real pleasant, and we might never come back this way again."

"I'm waiting for you to list the bad points," she replied, giving him a half-smile of her own. "Your offer is generous, Outlander. I will consider it."

Nestor scowled at the mention of his unwanted title. "One proviso, though, if you choose to accept. We don't go by titles, and we don't call people by their titles. So…" He scooted out from her so that he could hold out his right hand. "Formal introduction. Nestor."

She almost didn't go for it, eyeing his hand as if it was a tiger in disguise. It was hard to trust when you were taught to only rely on yourself, to never trust the outsider or the enemy. But she was no longer Gunnarr, not in any meaningful way. The old ways were dying, the old, cold ways of her people, and there were other paths to follow, other ways to be strong.

Perhaps it couldn't hurt to change a little more.

"Saga," she said, taking his hand and giving it a firm shake. Her half-smile became a full one. "My birth name."

"Strong name," Nestor said. "Don't worry, I won't spread it around."

"Please don't, or I will separate your tongue from your mouth," she cautioned lightly. Nestor wasn't sure if she was kidding, but he was going to err on the side of caution here.

"There you are!" said Hiccup, walking into their line of sight and pointing at Nestor. "Were you hiding here the whole time, doing that Shrouding thing?"

"We were having a conversation," said Saga, "And he was quite visible."

"That's it?" said Hiccup. "Just a conversation?"

"Disappointed?" said Nestor. "I suppose we could fight to the death again for everyone's amusement."

"No, no, we're good," said Hiccup. "Just didn't want to have to deal with any more visions of calamity and disaster for a year… or ten."

Nestor chuckled. "I think we're safe for… ah…" He glanced back at Saga in time to see her wince in pain, her hands going to her head and a weak cry of anguish escaping her lips. Nestor almost went to her, fearing she'd just been struck by the worst migraine in history, but she pushed him away and bowed her head to the table, pressing her mouth to the treated wood and mumbling something over and over.

"What is this?" asked Nestor, very alarmed by Saga's sudden agony attack.

"She's having a vision," said Hiccup, as disturbed as Nestor. "Astrid told me about them."

"Didn't realize they were so painful," said Nestor. "You'd think…"

"THE SKY IS ALIVE!"

Her lips moved free of the table and she began yelling the phrase over and over. Even with the lively volume of the celebration, other people heard her anguished, repetitive words and looked her way. More and more people caught on that something was wrong, the party quickly coming to a halt as patrons flocked toward Saga's table. But none flocked as quickly or as forcefully as Arc, whose keen ears picked up the phrase from the other side of the Hall. His great scaly body pushed a path through the throng until he was standing over Saga's shaking form, the Seer's vision concluding as she regained her awareness of the world.

"You okay?" asked Hiccup as Nestor helped Saga to stand up. Astrid and the other Dragon Squad Riders stood behind Hiccup, his dad and Gobber coming up to his side. Toothless, sensing the distressful turn the party had taken, bounded over to Hiccup's other side, knocking a few Vikings out of his way in the process.

"What did you see?" demanded Arc, leering down at Saga.

Saga moaned once and opened her bloodshot eyes, her mouth curled in dismay. "A land, far to the south. That where it starts."

"What starts?" asked Nestor.

"That where it will come from," explained Saga, her eyes watering as she rubbed them. "A land hundreds, maybe thousands, of miles from here. There was a hole in the clouds, like a hand had grabbed a great tuff and ripped it away. Then something filled the hole and began to spread, the clouds falling apart at its touch. A living sky replaced it, a dark void that thrived…"

"By my ancestors," muttered Arc, turning away from her as if he'd heard enough.

"…thrived and hungered," continued Saga. "There was… there was a horrible light that it gave off, and the lands below it were touched by the light… and all died before it…" She trailed off, leaning on Nestor for support.

"Arc, do you know something about this?" said Nestor.

"I had hoped it was only an excuse," said Arc, his voice distant. "I thought Cervantes was trying to justify his actions with an old memory."

"Could you make some sense?" said Hiccup.

"While I was imprisoned under Cervantes, he shared his mind with me," said Arc, facing the gathered crowd. "Cervantes had the memories of Latimar, and he revealed that the dragon had escaped from a dying world. Something… unimaginable had come to eradicate all life from it, something that matches the Seer's description. Cervantes told me that he saw the signs… that this force or entity was coming to our world, most likely with the same intentions."

What little conversation remained in the Hall died off utterly as Arc spoke, disbelief and horror spreading throughout the crowd. This was the Seer's vision, after all, and she had a good track record. Arc confirming it only made it more real. The word Ragnarok circulated aboutlike a bad smell.

"Are the Gods really this crazy?" commented Gobber. "We defeat one big beasty only to unleash the next one? What kind of insane natural order is this?"

"Some reason why you didn't tell us we were destroying the one thing that might stop it, Arc?" said Nestor accusingly.

"Would you have trusted Cervantes to save us, Nestor?" shot back Arc. "There wouldn't have been a world to save once he was done with us."

"I agree," said Saga, some of her old strength returning. "We acted as we had to. Now we must again." She looked straight at Nestor with her pained eyes, yet she seemed every bit the Seer she had always been. Nestor never thought he'd be relieved to see that stony face return, but he was relieved nonetheless.

"We'll send an army, then," said Stoick, his face adorned with determination. "Berk will go to war as we should have before." A few half-hearted cheers rose up in response, though with little enthusiasm.

"Great sentiment, Dad," said Hiccup. "Except that I don't think the Mainlanders will let an army of dragon-riding Vikings pass through their lands. Plus we're not going to get any of our dragons to go much further than the coast." He glanced at Toothless. "Well, except maybe…"

"An army would not help," interrupted Arc. "If this… thing arrives, we will be helpless against it. This I have seen clearly. I have little trust for visions, but I trust the Seer. I also trust that the Seer would not have received this vision if we didn't stand a chance in stopping it from coming to pass."

He faced Stoick and the whole of the Berkian flock, adopting a regal posture, acting as stately as any human chieftain. "You and your people have fought well, but you have done enough. Rebuild your village and prepare for the winter. Live your lives as you would. I will address this threat, learn what I can, and gather allies."

Nestor noticed Hiccup whispering something in Toothless's ear, the black dragon looking contemplative and then waggling his head, his usual sign of agreement. Hiccup straightened up when he saw Nestor staring, as if caught in the act of doing something naughty. Nestor might have asked a question about Hiccup's intentions had Stoick not spoken up just then, diverting his attention.

"It's not our way to let a friend go into battle alone," said the chieftain. A number of voices echoed his feelings.

"Well, he did mean we," said Nestor. "We're still partners, old man."

"That was a given, I thought," said Arc.

"And I am coming as well," said Saga, standing without aid once more. "For now, my path will be yours."

Arc was surprised by this development. "The risks are great, Young Seer."

"We stand against the mistakes of the past, so that they don't harm the future," she stated. "To stand against anything requires risk, does it not?"

Arc nodded his head, warmed by the recitation of his old vow. He gave his young ex-apprentice a proud grin. "Your handiwork, I imagine."

"We stand between the world we care about and the ones that wish to destroy it," Nestor answered. "Doesn't matter who's doing the destroying."

"We stand for the one thing worth standing for… hope."

It wasn't Arc who finished the last line of the Hyperion vow, the speaker stepping forward with his dragon friend at his side. The room fell silent once again as Hiccup stood before the green dragon, as determined as the bravest Viking Berk had ever supplied the world.

"Hope needs all the help it can get, and so do you," said Hiccup. "We're coming with you, Toothless and me." Toothless waggled his head again, confirming that Hiccup truly spoke for him, not that there was much doubt.

A lot of excited murmurs erupted at Hiccup's back. Hiccup didn't dare turn around to confront the stares and the what-is-he-thinking whispers coming from his friends. He didn't dare look at his father, who couldn't possibly be happy about this. He couldn't, absolutely couldn't, look at Astrid, whose eyes he could feel boring into the back of his scalp. He could see Arc's reaction, astonishment with a helping of dismay, and pictured Astrid's face as a thousand times worse.

"Young Hiccup…" began Arc.

"Let me, old man," said Nestor. Arc acquiesced as Nestor pulled Hiccup aside, away from the stares and the murmurs. They went to a corner of the Hall, where it was just the two of them in the shadows.

"Hiccup, don't do this," whispered Nestor.

"What, the Seer gets an invitation but I get the brush-off?" Hiccup replied testily.

"You know that's not it. You made it through. You had a taste of my life and you survived it. Better yet, you still have your own life, a future. Why are you doing this?"

Hiccup already had an answer, much to his own surprise. "Because I can't live my life knowing you're out there fighting, maybe dying, for all of us. Because your life isn't that horrible, and mine isn't that wonderful. Because I feel like myself when I'm riding Toothless and taking on abominations and Guardians. Because I need to see more of the world, so I know what I'm fighting for. And because I love Berk, I love my father… and I love Astrid, and the only way I'll know they'll be okay is to be with you guys, making sure the world's still standing in the morning. Remember that thing you call balance? Well, if I want balance in my life… I have to go with you to find it. Does any of that make sense?"

Nestor wanted to tell his friend his concerns were overblown, misplaced, but he couldn't. He wanted to find some reason to make Hiccup stay. But he couldn't. He sighed, defeated already… but not disappointed with his defeat.

"You'll have to square it with your people," said Nestor. "I'm not taking the heat for you."

"I'm not worried," said Hiccup, shrugging. "They would've been thrilled to get rid of me not so long ago."

But that clearly wasn't the case any longer, and Hiccup knew that in his heart as he and Nestor walked back to the gathering. His father waited for him, his eyes downcast but not angry. Telling himself that his dad could only kill him once, Hiccup walked up to him and prepared for another bout of fatherly scolding.

"Dad…"

"You've earned the right, Hiccup," his father said, though his eyes failed to meet Hiccup's. "I don't… I don't want you to do this. We need you here. I need you here. But I think the world needs you more." His eyes met his son's, and the combination of pride and sadness threatened to draw tears out of Hiccup.

"You have a place with us, Young Hiccup," said Arc, "if you still desire it. I assume Nestor maintains his inability to sway you from foolish paths."

"I do," said Hiccup, "and he does." Nestor laughed, as did others. Almost at once, the disbelief of his people became congratulations and a groundswell of support. The party would resume where it left off, less rowdy and more subdued as the conversations revolved around the heroes who would be off to save the world, the son of Stoick the foremost among them.

But Hiccup's party was over, his heart already straining with the notion that he might never see Berk again. Or perhaps it was over the fact that during his discussion with Nestor, Astrid had quietly walked out of the Hall.

By the time Toothless was outfitted with all of Hiccup's traveling gear, the black dragon had to be packing another two hundred pounds. Toothless took it all in stride, since none of the gear involved a hazardous hair-trigger mechanical device attached to his belly. Some of it was recovered myssteel fragments, a good fifty pounds of scrap. A going-away present from Gobber, figuring that Hiccup could put it to good use… or any use, since Hiccup was the only one who knew how to treat it.

The gods were granting Berk one final day of good weather, a dark storm front putting on a threatening performance from the east. This one was going to hit the village in less than a day, so most of the Berkians were busy sealing their new roofs and windows before the rains hit. But that hadn't stopped the village from gathering at the dockside cliffs to see Hiccup off, a cluster of his friends at the head of the pack. A fair number of dragons circled overhead, attracted to the commotion and the impending departure of two good friends.

Nestor and Arc stood off to the side, allowing for the long goodbye before the far-longer flight to the south. They weren't leaving empty-handed, their own packs and baskets brimming with preserved supplies, namely jerky and other dried meats. Arc had lucked out with a basket full of smoked eels, which he considered a fine delicacy, though something of an acquired taste. For some odd reason the village had a surplus of them, and the villagers were more than happy to part with the whole batch.

The Seer (or Saga if you were in the know) would be joining them shortly. For someone with such a keen talent for being at the right place at the right time, she was inexplicably late.

Hiccup had said his goodbyes to most of the acquaintances in his life. Now it was time for the harder farewells.

"Maybe it's a good thing you're going," said Snotlout, surprisingly morose. "While you're gone, I'll get to be the hero for a change. I just wish you hadn't pushed the bar so high."

"I'll miss you too, Snotlout," said Hiccup. "No one can abuse me like you do."

"Oh, c'mon, let's not go there. We're too manly." But he did shake Hiccup's hand; the friendliest act Snotlout had ever shown him.

Fishlegs went right for the bear hug, nearly causing Hiccup's eyes to pop out of their sockets. "Breathing… need breathing…" gasped Hiccup, convincing his giant friend to ease up.

"Remember to write down everything," said Fishlegs. "And bring back lots of mementos. I need visual aids."

"Right, for the new manual you're writing," said Hiccup.

"That?" Fishlegs brushed it aside. "I've got a better idea: a bunch of little scrolls, each one about a different dragon or monster with all its stats. People can collect them and pretend they're fighting with them, like in a duel. I'm still working on the rules, though."

"O-kay, sure," said Hiccup, privately thinking that the idea would never gain traction.

Tuffnut was next, his halfhearted smile failing to hide his glum mood. "Make sure to strike some fear into the populace wherever you go. We can't have people thinking Vikings are wimps."

The handshake that followed ended with Tuffnut wincing and pulling his hand back, rubbing his thumbnail. "Yeouch! Not so hard. I still have a splinter."

"You're still crazy, you know," said Ruffnut when Hiccup got to her. "You're leaving Berk in the hands of these guys." She pointed a thumb at her brother and the other Dragon Riders. "What do we do when we get attacked by devil whales or ice bees or whatever?"

"I think you guys can cover it," he said confidently. "Besides, you'll have Astrid to…"

Saying her name made him glance forlornly at the spot next to Ruffnut, the empty one they were keeping open in case… well, just in case.

He knew it was going to be hard. He just hadn't realized how hard. He had gone by her home earlier in the day, only to be greeted by her mother at the doorway and informed that Astrid didn't want to talk. Her mother had a sympathetic smile for him, but no other hint at Astrid's state of mind.

He wanted to tell her so badly that this wasn't planned, that he was coming back to his home when Arc and Nestor and the Seer didn't need him elsewhere, that he could brave new lands and new peoples and a world-eating horror thingy with his head held high because of her friendship… and her love.

But he wasn't going to get that opportunity. They had no idea how long they had before the Seer's vision came to pass. They had to leave now, and he couldn't wait for Astrid to calm down and emerge from her seclusion. He would have to settle with knowing she was safe… and safely hating him for leaving.

But he had hoped she would see him off, and she wasn't even going to give him that.

"She might just be running late," said Ruffnut supportively, getting points for perceptiveness. Then she shook her head. "Sorry, that was a lame excuse."

"It's okay, Ruff," he said. "Today, I'll take a lame excuse over the truth."

Before he moved on, Ruffnut whispered in Hiccup's ear a favor he could do for her: namely, telling Nestor that if he ever came back to Berk, he should "look her up." Hiccup said he would tell him when he got the chance.

"You know, lad," said Gobber, the second-to-last in the lineup, "if you didn't want to work in my shop any longer, you could've just said so. You don't have to travel halfway across the world."

"It was the only way to be sure," said Hiccup, smiling at the jest.

"You packed all the spares for your foot? Trust me, you don't want a breakdown on the road."

"Extra grease and everything."

Gobber laughed and placed his good hand on Hiccup's shoulder. "Lad, I'll be honest. I was worried about you for a long time. It's why I took you on as an apprentice, so you'd have a chance to succeed in this dragon-killing world we live in. Had I known how much damage you'd cause in the process, I might have done things differently. But no regrets, lad, not one. And… I don't think I have to worry any longer." Then he made an excuse about a bug flying into his eye and pushed his former apprentice along.

He was to his dad at last, his father trying his hardest to live up to his namesake and failing. He had to clear his throat a few times before he could dare speak, righting his helmet when it wasn't crooked, and claim that the same swarm of bugs that had gotten to Gobber's eyes now pestered him.

"I'm not good with goodbyes, son," he said. "There's too much to say, and not enough time to say it."

"You don't have to say anything, Dad," said Hiccup.

"Really? Good, 'cause otherwise I'm won't get through this." Stoick cleared his throat a fourth time. "Truth is, Hiccup, it's times like this I wish your mother was here. For starters, she was a lot better at being touchy-feely than me. But mostly… mostly, I just wish she could have seen the man you're becoming… the man you are. Not sure she'd approve of you flying off to battle Ragnarok itself, though. I just want you to know that I don't care how many pretty ladies you meet out there or how many fascinating legends you run into, or how many foes you have to burn your way through. Just know that we'll be waiting for you when you're ready to come home."

Hiccup hugged him, unable to resist the impulse and not caring how emotional it made him look. Stoick needed only one strong arm to embrace his son, also not caring in the slightest about how ruined his image was at this point. In fact, that same horde of eye-assaulting invisible bugs found many victims that day as the crowd watched father and son say goodbye.

"I'll miss you, Dad," said Hiccup, tearing up from his own pent-up emotion. "I'll make you proud."

"You're already there, son," he said softly, his voice cracking. "You're already there."

The whetstone moved across Astrid's axe blade for the hundredth time, or possibly five hundredth… or who really cared? Astrid sure didn't. The whetstone in her hand had countless scratches and scarring on it from tangling with the super-sharp blade, but Astrid kept running the stone along the blade over and over, lost in the repetition. Lost in the flow of the motion.

Just… lost in general.

She sat cross-legged on a lumpy boulder, using the eastern cliff face as a vantage point. The view was marred by the incoming storm clouds, but she hardly cared. It was far away from the docks, far away from… well, from Hiccup.

The whetstone took another deep cut as it slid on the myssteel blade, nearly cutting a chunk off and slicing into Astrid's hand. She was aware enough to note it, but she merely flipped the stone over and altered her movements so that the blade couldn't slice in.

He'd be gone soon. Toothless and Arc were supposed to leave by midday in order to beat out the storm. She only had to wait a few more minutes and…

"You are facing the wrong direction," said the voice behind her. "You should be looking south."

Astrid knew it was Saga, but she glanced backwards just to be sure. The Seer stood a few feet away, outfitted for travel but still wearing her traditional Gunnarr black-and-red ensemble, a basket slung on her back.

"I'm looking where I want to look," said Astrid morosely.

"As you wish." Saga came around the boulder and stood near Astrid, regarding the clouds on the horizon with curiosity. "Always some new storm to watch for, isn't there?"

"Seems that way," said Astrid. "Did you know it was coming?"

Saga shook her head. "Not this one." She turned her scrutinizing blue eyes on Astrid now, Astrid choosing not to reciprocate. "I wanted to tell you that I value our friendship, Astrid, and I hope that our paths cross again in time. You and I were not planned, and somehow that makes it better."

Astrid did smile slightly at that. "Thank you. If you ever need a home, you have one."

"Home." Saga mouthed the word slowly, as if exploring its contours in her mind. "Home can be so many things. Until now, I thought home meant my people. Now it is an idea, perhaps even a goal."

"I only meant…"

"I knew what you meant, and it is appreciated. But tell me, what is home to you?"

"Home to me?" said Astrid, the question feeling silly. "Berk, of course."

"Which means what?"

"What's with the questions?" asked Astrid, growing annoyed.

"These are questions I ask myself, Astrid," she explained. "I thought I understood what home meant, what being the Seer meant, what my life meant. Now I know nothing, and it's both scary and liberating."

"Well, I'm good, thanks," said Astrid, her tone acidic.

Saga shook her head again. "No, you're not."

Astrid made an irritated sigh. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I tell things as they are, just like when I told you that you should be looking south."

Astrid bit her lip, her temper rising as she made one more unnecessary whetting. Then she cocked her hand back and tossed the whetstone over the cliff, the stone sailing out of sight. She got down off her perch and whirled on Saga, her face boiling with anger. "He told me that he wanted to stay in Berk! He told me over and over! 'Astrid, I like it here.' That's what he told me! But as soon as you start predicting some new disaster, he takes it as a sign to leave! So I may never see him again, and I have you to thank for it! So yes, I'm not good, but I'm not looking south!"

Her fury spent, Astrid leaned against her boulder and closed her eyes, trying to get herself back under control. Saga watched her dispassionately, letting Astrid calm down before she dared speak again. With the sun almost directly overhead, she had only a minute to spare. It would have to be a well-played minute.

"You care for Hiccup," she stated.

"Yes!" Astrid. "I thought that was pretty obvious."

"But you believe he doesn't care for you."

"I… no… no, that's not what I believe. I know he cares. He's always cared."

"So why would he abandon you?"

Astrid struggled to keep her temper in check. "Were you not listening?"

"I heard it all, Astrid. You believe he cares for you, but is now abandoning you. Why would he do that?"

Astrid looked out over the sea once more, looking helpless and torn up. "I don't know."

"Yes, you do. Beyond your anger, you know why."

"The 'why' doesn't matter," Astrid declared. "Don't you see? You were right all along. Making your soul as cold as the ice – it's the only way to avoid… feeling like this."

Saga walked to her and put a friendly hand on Astrid's shoulder guard. "You and I are alike in one true way – we are better at confronting death on the battlefield than our own humanity. You taught me a lot about my own. I hope you will not start running from yours."

Saga said her farewells and moved on, Astrid still refusing to look anywhere other than east, out at the expansive sea. Look south? What was there to see? More ocean? More cliffs? The village that's been her home for her entire life? Look south – a silly thing to tell someone to do.

Yet Saga had that infuriating ability to make things happen. If she looked south, something would happen. Astrid didn't want anything to happen. She was right, she knew she was right. Hiccup had said he would stay, and he wasn't staying. Simple as that.

No, not so simple. The world needed champions, didn't it?

Hiccup was hers. The world could get its own.

But he wouldn't be Hiccup if he turned his back on a friend, on a threat… on the world.

Well, she didn't have to play along. She didn't have to care. She could go back to that selfish person she used to be. She could forge her own path. She could…

No, she couldn't.

As if some external hand was grasping her neck and turning, she looked south. Nothing remarkable to see, as she expected. Just the straw roofs of her village, the grassy knolls of her youth, the rocky shoals and cliffs and…

And Hiccup and his father in the distance, surrounded by friends old and new, saying farewell to one life and the start of another.

Just like that, the fortress of despair and anger she had fortified within her crumbled. What a mistake she was making. By the Gods, she couldn't leave things like this! Hiccup didn't deserve it… and she didn't deserve it either!

Panic seized her as she sought out the sun. Her panic intensified – noonday was right now. She grabbed her axe and ran full out down the hillside. She had to make a stop first, no way around it, but right now she felt like she could run forever, that maybe time would slow for everyone else but not her. Just give her a few minutes more… please.

The goodbyes were over, and time didn't slow down one nano-second.

The Seer arrived right at noonday, graciously thanking Stoick and the village for their friendship. She and Nestor boarded Arc's scaly back once more, Nestor chiding his friend and mentor about how he was starting to get used to this and Arc informing him that if he didn't want to swim to the Mainland, he might want to stay silent on the matter.

Hiccup mounted Toothless and gave his village a final wave, feeling torn and thrilled and heartbroken and excited all at once. The first day of a new journey started now. He only wished… well, there was no more point in wishing.

They took off together, Arc and Toothless, the airspace clear and breezy from Berk all the way to the Mainland. They made two sweeps over the village, waving and shouting goodbye to the various faces below, Arc having to remind Hiccup that they did actually have to leave the island.

They climbed toward the sun, its brilliance obscuring them from the onlookers on the ground. Its warmth melted their fears and gave them hope for a speedy journey and a successful outcome; one the world might live to see.

One figure on the ground sprinted right up to the southern cliffs and yelled out Hiccup's name over and over. She had missed Hiccup's takeoff, his flyover, his departure. She had seen the black dragon's silhouette against the blinding midday sun, but the glare soon robbed her of even that small glimpse.

She screamed out his name again, the nearby crowd watching as she frantically waved and jumped up and down. She did this with a desperation rarely seen in her, heedless of how it might look to her friends.

But no black dragon dropped down from the sky. No replying call echoed to her ears. No last chance after all. They were away.

Hiccup was gone.

Astrid's arms hung limp at her sides as she turned from the cliff, all her panic and anger depleted, leaving only a hole in her heart so big that a spear could have gone right through it and she'd have felt nothing. How could she have blown this so badly? Why did she have to be so stubborn?

The recriminations fell away as she walked back to the village, using every ounce of self-control not to start bawling right there. But she didn't have any left and she had to put her hands to her face as the tears began to stream down her cheeks. This wasn't how a warrior conducted herself, but she couldn't stop now if she wanted to.

Hiccup…

The flapping of wings behind her barely registered on her. This was Berk – something was always flapping. But then the low welcoming growl did register, and she turned around to see a grinning Night Fury before her. The rider on top wore the same grin, along with some teary relief in his eyes.

"Has anyone ever told you that you can yell really loud?" said Hiccup.

He disembarked and ran to her as she ran to him, the two of them colliding in a tight embrace. They held each other, too overwhelmed to say anything as a few onlookers made their happy comments, mostly along the lines of "Finally!" and "I win the bet!"

Once he open his eyes again, Hiccup spotted Astrid's axe lying on the ground up the path to the village center, next to a wicker basket used for… travel. Was she…? She couldn't be, could she?

When they finally pulled apart enough to face each other, Hiccup got in the first word. "Astrid?"

"I'm coming with you, Hiccup," she declared happily.

"Really?" He said, happily confused or confusedly happy, he wasn't sure. "For me?"

Astrid laughed. "Well, not just for you, but you're a big reason."

"But Berk's your home."

"Home's an idea," she replied. "It's a goal. And I feel at home with you, whether it's in Berk or in a monster's belly."

"What about things getting… you know, settled?"

"I don't think things will ever be settled with you, Hiccup. It's not who you are. But I'll take my chances."

"What about…"

"Beatrix will be fine. My parents will look after her."

"Which brings me to…"

"They're okay with me leaving. I asked them before I got here."

Hiccup laughed. "I guess they never stopped you from doing anything before." But his levity broke down as one more disturbing thought came to light. "You do realize that we might be flying to our certain doom."

"That's why I'm coming. You're standing for us… but someone has to stand for you." Her smile radiated pure warmth. "I'm always standing for you, Hiccup. Why would I stop now?"

Before he really knew he was doing it, he pulled her back in and kissed her. Not a quick peck, not a short thank-you like before, but a real honest-to-Gods kiss. His arms encircled her waist and hers clung to his shoulders, their lips saying so much without speaking. Berk winked out for those few precious seconds, their reality composed of only Hiccup and Astrid.

Their kiss came to a close way too soon, the two of them smiling at each other and ready to do it again. But then a gruff throat cleared itself above their heads, a shadow swallowing up their sunlight. Arc had positioned himself right over them, snickering with a gentle smirk. On his back, Nestor and Saga were also smiling, Saga knowingly and Nestor apologetically.

"Sorry to be the mood-killer once again," said Nestor, "but we do have a world to save."

So there you have it. I guess I could have called this "How I left Berk" or some other title that spoils everything, but I like to think that the best stories are the ones you have to guess at.

I'm scared, I'll admit. Even with Astrid and Toothless, even with friends like Nestor and Arc and Saga… Saga? Really?… I don't know what to expect. No idea when I'm coming home, no idea what were going to find, and no idea how we're supposed to fight something that makes banquets out of entire worlds.

That's one giant avalanche to deal with. But we can do it. We can pull it off. That's what we call hope.

Hyperions and Night Furies, Seers and Outlanders, Warriors and Tinkerers. Humans training dragons and dragons training humans. Maybe it's been done before, maybe it even failed before. But that doesn't mean we shouldn't try it again. It doesn't mean we can't learn from the past and do better this time.

Looks like we have a long trip ahead of us, though. Don't worry – I'll tell you when we get there.

Final Notes: First things first:

- To all you readers, from the ones who gave me your two cents to the ones that only showed up as ticks on the stat counter, thank you. This was fun for me, and it made me write more energetically than I have in months. I'm glad to have shared this with you all, and I hope that it was worth the rather lengthy ride. It was great to get feedback, and it's helped me get inspired again.

- So, obviously, a set-up for a sequel. That means one's right around the corner, right?

Well...

* First off, this project ate up all of my free-writing time, and as I have stated, I do have a barely-alive writing career I want to work on. Fanfic is fun when done well, but it's not going to help me with my career, other than giving me more practice at both writing and policing myself.

* The reason why I tackled this during the summer is because I had the time to do so. With school in, I only have a good two-hour window each day to write in. I had to do evenings and weekends for this story. Again, I had a great time, but it was a killer pace.

* Lastly, the sequel is not as well formed as this story. It needs time to gel a bit. In other words, it's going to be a while before the sequel comes out. Probably not until next summer, when my time is free again.

* Oh, right, the other last reason: when I did a sequel to my last fanfic series, almost no one read it. I stopped it "mid-series," something I hate to do. My reasons are in my profile, so I won't repeat myself here. If people want the sequel (knowing it will be some time before it comes out), let me know. Seriously.

It can be a one-word review or message that says "sequel." It can be an essay that repeats the word "sequel" over and over. I'm not picky. But as I've said, I have other projects I want to do, and I need to know there's an audience wanting me to do this again. Don't be shy. Let me know.

(A few of you have already said so, and I greatly appreciate that. As for the rest of you...)

A few things to consider: Berk is gone. We're finished there for now. We'd be in new territory. My idea is to show a bit more of the world of HTTYD (my version, anyway), so there will be new characters and such. If you like how I do things, you'll have to trust that I'll do what I can to make it all suitably epic.

- If anyone wants the whole story (sans those pesky author's notes) for reprint on some other website, contact me and I'll send you the file via attachment. I mean, what else am I going to do with it?

- Finally, anyone knows of any artwork done for this story (I doubt there is, but you never can tell), I'd appreciate a link. That would be cool... as I absolutely suck at drawing.

All I have left to say is thank you all again... and... onwards.