.

.

.

.

.......................................................................................................................................................................................................................

A poorly put-together sailboat back and forth on the calm morning sea; the waves lapped against the tattered hull of the boat, allowing subtle amounts of water to leak in. The boards were hurriedly hammered together, giving the impression that the boat would break and sink any second. It was noon, several heavy rain clouds filling the sky with threat of a storm, but for the moment, save the sound of the flowing water and the wind against the ragged mast above, all was quiet. But within the mind of Stoick the Vast, who stood at the front of the boat overlooking the wide ocean ahead, the storm had already begun.

A maelstrom of furious desire raging within him, all focused on a single goal, as vague as the journey towards that goal seemed to be. He wanted his son, he contained to think, not caring in the slightest if Hiccup refused or complained in any way. He had put up with his son's incessant whining for 14 years, and this time he would not have any of it; this time he would listen to reason and come home, and Stoick was ready to tie him to the mast of the boat and gag him, forcing him back if need be. Hiccup would return to Berk so that he could be groomed to become Berk's chief – he would hammer the knowledge into his son's head, shove food down his throat to make him strong and throw him into a cell with a hundred dragons so he could kill them all. Berk's chief needed to be perfect in order to restore it to its former glory.

Though he remained perfectly still with his foot on the rim of the ship, in his head Stoick was pacing back and forth, wondering what would happen when he saw his son again. No doubt he would be upset somewhat, but knowing Hiccup he would probably just keep his opinions to himself. He was never the type to engage in any actual conflict, another sign of his weirdness and natural inability to be a proper Viking and chief, but this time it would be all for the better. Besides, surely he would be able to see that his people, his family, had come to take him home, and they would be able to put any past issues behind them. For whatever reason, the boy had a very forgiving nature, and could overlook whatever people might say to him, so really, odds were that this wouldn't take too much effort on their part.

Stoick had been out on the sea searching for just over a week, with his crew composed of Gobber and Hiccup's fellow Vikings from dragon training: Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout, and the twins Ruffnut and Tuffnut. The young ones had come of their own volition, Stoick could only assume for various reasons, especially in the case of Snotlout and the twins, who Gobber said were particularly distant from Hiccup, though why Stoick had allowed mere children to come, no one really knew. One thing was for sure, though, and that was they were no longer children – they had grown up and were now on the cusp of adulthood themselves. Save for Snotlout and the twins, who still seemed the same as they were eight years ago; then again, no one really expected those muttonheads to grow up. Really, though, they all retained some aspect of their former selves, perhaps due to the stasis Berk had found itself in since Hiccup's disappearance. Some assumed that was why the teens decided to go with Stoick – so they could find the truth, accept reality, and finally move on with their lives, as empty as those lives would be now that the war was seemingly over and there was no real path forward.

Out of his peripheral vision, Stoick could see the young Hofferson girl making her way to the front of the ship to join him. Astrid's appearance had changed quite a bit in the years between – if anything, she had now become even more gorgeous. Her hair was now neater, the bangs that covered her left eye parted back, with her usual braid hanging behind. She wore a short cape of fur secured by her skull pins and the iron pauldrons on her shoulders atop a cloth-wrapped red shirt. Her skirt was composed of fur and spiked leather with a belt of skulls, and wore arm and leg bands made entirely of fur and bound by rope. Her favorite axe was slung over her shoulder, carefully sharpened and preserved, though as hard as she or Gobber tried, they could never match the refined quality that Hiccup had always placed into their work.

She had become much gentler and kinder over the years, showing a bit more patience towards everyone whereas the old Astrid would have just chucked a weapon or delivered a hard punch towards anyone who annoyed her. People assumed it was most likely Hiccup's influence that had changed her, most notably her parents, who had always seen the wishful look in her eyes whenever she thought about him. It was, they believed, the driving force behind her turning down so many potential suitors, despite their promises of wealth and status, regardless of whether they had been from Berk or otherwise. Make no mistake though, she was still the tough as nails shield –maiden she had always been, as fierce and devoted to her tribe as ever. It was this loyalty in itself that now drew her to the side of her chief, the man she had spent her entire life trying to emulate.

Stoick continued to stare off into the distance, his gaze focused on nothing and something all at once. He was prepared to take his son back by force if need be, yet he wanted to at least say something to Hiccup to try and convince him to come home on his own. What would he say though, what could he say to bring Hiccup home where he belonged? At this point, though, he wasn't even sure if he could handle seeing Hiccup again, dead or alive. Astrid looked sympathetically at the Hairy Hooligan chief; she couldn't tell what he was thinking, but she could tell that he was torn up inside. The stress of the whole situation was getting to him, she was sure, and she felt it wasn't long before he snapped.

"Hey," she said to him. "We'll find him. We'll bring him home and make everything right."

Stoick didn't look at her, didn't say a word, didn't move a single muscle. But she could see a small smile in his eyes, the first smile he had given in eight long years.

"Unless, of course he really is dead, in which case we're all just wasting our time, here." Gobber started while hobbling over to Stoick's other side.

"Not helping, Gobber..." Astrid growled with gritted teeth and a deadly glare pointed in the old blacksmith's direction.

"I'm just saying eight years is a long time, he could very well have run into 'the Dragon Conqueror' by then...' Gobber crossed his arms and mused, ignoring Astrid's look. The smile in Stoick's eyes had completely disappeared by then, replaced with a dark, hateful scowl.

The Dragon Conqueror was a mysterious man that had appeared in the Archipelago over 3 years ago from seemingly nowhere. He had the ability to control dragons and rode atop one as he travelled about freeing stray dragons from trappers and hunters and taking them off to who knows where. They say that he had even bended the Night Fury to his will, the most majestic and powerful dragon of them all, and that very same dragon served as his personal steed. No one had ever seen him before, so most weren't even sure if he was real or not, especially when the rumors about him had become highly exaggerated. According to stories spinning around Outcast and Berserker Island, he was 6 to 7 feet, could yank a large oak tree out off  the ground with one hand, and had a battle cry as terrifying as any dragon's.

Opinions were divided among those who had heard of him, regardless of whether or not they believed he truly existed. Some, like those on Berk, believed he was insane scum to want to work together with those abominations of nature. Others, like the Outcasts and Berserkers, viewed him as a vital asset to gaining power, and so engaged in numerous expeditions to find him and acquire his dragon-controlling secrets. Either way, it was safe to assume that the Dragon Conqueror was the most dangerous man in existence, and if he had gotten to Hiccup, then Odin help him.

"I'm sure Hiccup is out there. He's a smart guy, no way the Dragon Conqueror found him." Astrid reassured Stoick. "And I'm sure everyone else thinks so too!" She called out to everyone on the ship as more of a warning than a statement.

Everyone else just scoffed or grunted in begrudging agreement; in their minds, Hiccup was still the twig of a boy he had always been, always needing someone to rescue him from something. The boy couldn't fight any battle on his own, and his dumb gadgets wouldn't be able to help him if he did indeed run into the Dragon Conqueror.

"Well, if we're being real here..." Tuffnut said with the stupidity and the audacity to voice this opinion out. Astrid turned her glare to him with a shotgun with a turn of her head, so quick her neck might have snapped. The dimwitted Viking was shut up immediately.

"She told you," Ruffnut giggled.

"No she didn't, she didn't say anything!" Tuffnut argued. "You think you're a mind reader or something!?... Wait, that's actually pretty cool, tell me what I'm thinking right now..." And just like that, he had completely fallen off topic with the previous conversation.

"You're thinking... of licking my boots!" Ruffnut joked.

"Hey, that's not what I was thinking! Or was it? Do I even like the taste of boots? Hey, tell me, you're supposed to be a mind reader!" Tuffnut shouted.

"Sorry, you'd need a mind to read first!" Ruffnut joked again.

"Whatever, you don't even know how to read at all!" Tuffnut shot back.

"Oh, yeah!? Say that again!" Ruffnut argued. And with that, the twins got into another fit of rough-housing, shoving each other, yanking each other's braids, and rolling around on the floor in a tangle of limbs and hair. Snotlout only scoffed and looked out at the sea, pouting and slowly growing more seasick up to the point where he threw up over the side of the boat. Fishlegs tried his best to stop the fighting, but his quiet voice was completely unheard and he was just knocked over when the twins rolled into him. Astrid could only shake her head at their ridiculous behavior and return her attention to Stoick, the man still looking out and ignoring everything around him.

"He is out there, sir. I know it, I can feel it. We will find him."

Again he ignored her, but he still agreed deep down. He was going to find him and bring him home, and may Loki grant his crooked blessings to his servant the Dragon Conqueror and his atrocious pets if he got in his way.

.

.

.

.

~~TO BE CONTINUED~~