Sorry, short chapter. The rest of what I wanted to write for this felt better as its own chapter, so you're left with this for now.

"What's the state of our fleet, Hoark?" Stoick asked council member Hoark the Haggard. Stoick had called his council: Hoark, Phlegma, Spitelout, Gobber, and several others to the Great Hall where they all now stood around a large table to discuss the Berserker attack on Ironfort as well as their own plan of defense.

"I'm afraid it's not so good, Chief," Hoark replied. "At last evaluation, most of our warships were in desperate need of repair."

"See to it right away that it's done," the chief ordered. "Gobber, I hope you have better news on the armory."

"Much better. In fact, I can't remember a peacetime when we were better armed. Come to think of it, I can't remember that many peacetimes at all before, well, the whole dragon thing."

"Excellent. But it won't be peacetime for long. I need you to make sure every ax, mace, and sword in prime condition. That includes the villagers' personal weapons. Spitelout, what about large weaponry? Do we have enough catapults and those rope shooting contraptions my son made?"

"Yes, sir," he replied simply.

"Good. I want more. Phlegma, how many of our warriors have their own dragons?"

Phlegma thought for a moment before she replied, "Almost all of them, I think. Nadders, Nightmares, Grunkles, even a couple of Zipplebacks. Hiccup and Fishlegs also taught us to use Terrible Terrors as scouts and messengers."

"Good. Those dragons are going to be our most important weapons. Now as you all know, Hiccup and I will be gone for several days. We leave for Ironfort first thing in the morning to give our allies their dragons and the knowledge they will need to train and use them. Spitelout will be in charge in my absence. While Hiccup and I are gone, his orders will be equal to mine. For anything dragon related, you may still go to the academy. Hiccup has placed Phlegma's daughter Astrid in charge of that. I assure you, she's quite capable.

"While I'm gone, we need dragon riders in the sky watching every inch of this island and its surrounding waters night and day. You're to sound the alarm if you so much as think you see a single Berserker ship. Phlegma is in charge of arranging that schedule. Use the academy teens as much as you can for this, Phlegma, because we need our warriors' top priority to be getting every single vestal battle ready. We want to meet the enemy at sea with both the ships and the dragons before they reach the island. Hoark is in charge of overseeing ship repairs.

"Gobber, inspect the armory tonight. Make sure …"

Suddenly he stopped. Stoick had always considered himself composed and organized. But for the first time in his life he actually forgot what he was saying.

"Um, Stoick?" Gobber questioned.

"Is something wrong?" Phlegma asked.

It hurt to breath again. The pain in his chest was back worse than it had been all day. It was as if a red-hot sword was being driven straight thru his heart. The fiery pain shot up his spine and his jaw tightened like a vice causing his teeth to grind together painfully. Even had he been able to find the words to speak, he could not have moved his mouth to do so. He felt hot like the forge in summertime and there might as well have been a Grunkle on his chest the way he struggled for every breath.

Throughout the room the counsel members watched helplessly as every speck of color drained from their fearless leader's face. Spitelout rushed to another table and dragged over a chair, hurriedly placing it behind Stoick.

"Sit down Stoick, before you collapse."

Just when he thought no worse pain was possible, a fireball of agony erupted inside of him and he could see nothing but stars before his eyes. He wanted to cry out from the pain the likes of which he had never experienced in all of his life's battles, but all that came from his throat was a strangled groan.

Phlegma and Hoark each took one of Stoick's arms and eased him down in the chair that Spitelout had brought.

"Gobber, bring him some water," Phlegma ordered. Not minding to be gentle, she shook the ailing chief. "Stoick, what's happening can you hear me? Stoick? STOICK!"

WIANWIANWIANWIAN

"Toothless, calm down, Bud," Hiccup soothed and rubbed the dragon's shoulder in attempt to calm him down. For several minutes now the Night Fury had been uncontrollably bouncing and jumping all over the ship, mast to rail, port to starboard, all the while shrieking like he was desperately trying to say something. "What's gotten into you?"

"It's pretty obvious to me," Said Snotlout, who was lounging against Hookfang with his feet propped up on an empty bucket. "He just doesn't like ships because he was chained up the last, what, three times he was on one."

"That would be understandable," Astrid reasoned, "but he wasn't like this on the way TO Dragon Island. It just started on the way home."

"According to the Book of Dragons," Fishlegs quoted, "Strike Class dragons have a special 'sixth sense,' like they can feel when something bad is happening. So maybe…" the brainy teen paused in fright and his eyes widened when he realized what he was saying "…something bad is happening?"

Hiccup nodded, considering all three possibilities. "He doesn't like ships or crowds, and there is quite a crowd here. Either that or…" Hiccup lost track of what he was saying when he remembered his conversation with is father earlier that day.

"What if the Berserkers attack Berk while you're away?"

"Or what, Hiccup?" Astrid prompted, bringing him back to the present.

"Or something bad IS happening!" Halfway in a panic, Hiccup quickly mounted Toothless' saddle. "You guys stay on the ship and take the new dragons straight to the academy when you get back to Berk. Toothless and I are going to fly ahead."

He said nothing more and allowed for no reply before he and Toothless took off into the darkening sky.

As Hiccup and Toothless flew at their top speed homeward, Hiccup dreaded what he would come home to if there was, if fact, something terribly wrong as Fishlegs had insinuated. He prayed to every god and goddess whose name he knew that, what ever it was, he would be ready.