Midsummer Special, Black Ice: Chapter Seven

"I can't believe her," Eos said late into the evening. "I can't believe she would do this."

Stoick was inclined to agree, if not for the thoughts muddling his head. He had thought it was bad enough when the Berserkers appeared without warning by the docks, all of them retching after a flash of rainbow lights had faded away. Dagur, at the forefront, had a note attached to his armor in the front, pinned by a rather large hairpin.

Astrid had warned them, fortunately, by coming to the hut where they were discussing what to do with Lu and how to mend the large holes in the wooden floor. She had approached the chief and chieftainess and told them to come, right before the rainbows had summoned the Berserkers to the docks, locks of her hair escaping from her braid and curling around the edges.

"I can explain," she said apologetically. "It's going to take a while, but in a nutshell the Berserkers are in danger of their souls decaying and Lu and Hiccup have gone off to Asgard to find a Frost Giant that took Mud away."

"Frost Giant?" Stoick repeated.

"Muddy?" Eos nearly shrieked. 

Astrid took a few minutes to explain what had happened, including why the Berserkers were on their doorstep. Eos wasted no time in marching to the docks, bringing several dragon riders with her, and barking orders; she could give Gothi a run for the Elder's money, when it came to badgering people. Dagur looked cowed as Eos grabbed his tunic, ripped away the note, and started questioning him. The dragon riders looked rather fascinated at this turn of events.

"What did Dagur do to anger Mrs. Chief?" Snotlout asked; his hair ruffled from a morning patrol.

"He'd have to rip up an island to get her mad," Tuffnut remarked. "She doesn't even yell at me when we set fire to the wheat fields."

"More importantly, what is Dagur doing here without warning?" Fishlegs asked with a frown. "Shouldn't we have hidden away out dragons so as to avoid any of them becoming Berserker trophies?"

"He's not getting his hands on Barf and Belch again," Ruffnut said protectively. "Astrid, do you know what's going on?"

Astrid took her four friends aside as Eos marched the Berserker chief and his small group of men-- not the large armada, thank all the gods for that. Stoick couldn't hear the conversation, but he understood the gist of it. Once Dagur and the Berserkers were settled in the guest quarters-- with a few Nadders patrolling, in case he got it in his mind to do something stupid, he called a meeting in the Great Hall and explained the situation. He had calmed his people's fears, not just for the island's safety but for Hiccup as well, the Heir being so far from home once more. Stoick had told the people that he believed that Hiccup would return from Hiccup intact, perhaps even stronger than before. Now as his wife returned from her healer duties, he let the fear overcome him in her midst.

Mud's gone. Again. Hiccup and Toothless are gone. Again. Lu's with them. She's a new part to this. Should I be worried about her too? I'm too old for this, he thought ruefully as Eos ranted about the Lu's actions.

"She did this on purpose, knowing that I wouldn't leave you alone to deal with a psychotic child that thinks highly of his violent tendencies. Obviously she has do things her way or not at all, because she can't handle her new freedom, and she thinks highly enough of herself to on a hero's quest after a lifetime in the Underworld. Of all the irresponsible, unthinkable-"

Stoick tended the fire and didn't respond. The sad thing was that he couldn't completely agree with his wife about Lu's actions being unthinkable, because he could picture Lu doing something like this, pinning a note to a young Berserker's shirt and leaving Astrid to fill in the blanks. He had seen her over the months: strong-willed, determined, more like her adopted mother than either party cared to admit. It would be very like Lu to hatch a scheme like this.

"If only Jotunheim were closer!" She threw herself into a chair and watched the embers flare. "Dagur and the others will be fine, or at least as fine as any man who has lain with my daughter. But to think of it-"

"I'd rather not," Stoick shuddered.

"Indeed. So I questioned his men about what they were doing on Rainbow Isle to begin with. They have apparently begun a spree of conquering islands. They said that Lu put the idea in Dagur's head when she waged her undead army on him back at Helheim's Gate, or Dragon Island."

"That wasn't Lu's fault at least," Stoick said. "Dagur doesn't think rationally; you don't even have to talk to him to see it. How could she have known he would make such actions?"

"She knew enough to let him deflower her," Eos said sharply.

Stoick decided to drop that matter. He didn't want to fight when the household was already empty and quiet. He found himself listening for the clanking of Hiccup's prosthetic, and of Mud's muffled cries when he slept. The babies would be back soon from their most recent flight, and they would be horrified to hear the news.

"In any case, there is nothing really to stop a Viking chief from conquering other lands, unless you wish to bring the law of the Thing upon him, where other tribes could challenge Dagur's claims," he said. "Did they say which lands in particular that he conquered?"

"The men did," Eos nodded. "I'm having Gris examine them through the Bifrost. Someone like Dagur is not to be trusted with his penchant for knives and death goddesses."

There was a moment of quiet. Stoick reached for a toy dragon that lay on the mantelpiece-- Eos had made it a few weeks ago before a trip to visit her sister at the Bifrost and Lu in the Underworld. It was black, fluffy material, from the black sheep on the island.

"Why would Mud be taken? Again?" Eos asked into the fire. "Why would a Jotun scum take Fury as well? And why to Jotunheim? He's a child, and our child! Hasn't he suffered enough?"

"Can't we go after Hiccup and Lu?" Stoick asked. "Dagur's not that bad a threat. I can leave the village in Spitelout's hands as I did before, and we can assemble the dragon riders . . ."

She shook her head, looking sorrowful. Stoick moved his chair next to her and clutched her arm.

"You wouldn't survive the journey by Bifrost," she said dully. "Neither would any of the riders. If we went the long way it could very well be too late. And even I can't withstand the giants' frost, though I would endure it tenfold if I could bring Muddy back. If I were still a dragon, it would be different."

    They stared into the fire. Stoick squeezed the tiny toy dragon, trying to find some warmth in the object.

    “The Jotun also took Toothless,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what I’d do without that dragon, if anything were to happen to him. Neither would Hiccup.”

    "I know; I have seen them." She drew a long, sighing breath. "What are we going to do? We can't just sit here and expect that Lu is going to take care of anything on the other side, but I can't leave you with Dagur."

    “He killed his father. Lu wrote that in her note. But there’s no proof apart from her seeing Oswald’s ghost; I’m not sure how well that would hold up in a trial.”

    Stoick had respected Oswald the Agreeable, a progressive Berserker who found peace within the chaos and brought order to his insane tribe. To think that the man lay in his grave because of his son and a deliberate attack  . . . he knew that Lu wasn’t lying. The thought sickened him.

    “I can’t stand the thought that we may sit here and do nothing but heal up the man that deflowered my daughter.” Eos glared into the fire. “It’s infuriating to let someone go without facing justice.”

    “What’s to say that he won’t?” Stoick pressed. “He’s scared of you. You saw that this morning. And we may try to impose the charges of fratricide and regicide upon him.”

    “Is that your plan then?” Eos asked. “Are you going to bring Viking law against him?”

    “If it can be done to avoid war and to bring justice to Dagur’s victims, then yes.” Stoick stroked the fur on the dragon doll. “But we may have to find more victims to prove our case.”



“No more Miss Nice Girl,” Lu promised, as she gathered her things. “If that Jaxie thinks that she can just barge in and do whatever she likes to Momo-”

    Fenris brought her the knitting needles and her loom, but Lu waved them aside. She was taking a leather satchel to Asgard, and it needed to be light enough yet practical for a trip through Jotunheim. She would wear most of her clothes, since with magic she could change them up easily.

    Her room was a mess; drawers were open with the nightclothes, underwear and socks all lain strewn and her desk had piles of paper that she would never put away. Eos would freak, if she still lived here. Lu didn’t have time to clean, or the mental energy to do so.

    “I can’t take the loom, bro,” she said. “That won’t fit, no matter how many spells you put on the satchel. Even the needles are a stretch; I’d only need them if I planned to do some heavy-duty knitting while traveling. It’s not like they have trains that connect the realms.”

    Still, she set them aside. She took tiny bottles of water and healing potion that actually contained more liquids than what did appeared to the naked eye. A small first-aid kit that carried bandages durable enough to serve as a rope ladder or a bridge, if the occasion ever called for crossing a high precipice or several at a time. A small book of poems that she meant to finish, if she or Hiccup was killed by boredom. Poems were a good way of calming one down, especially when stumped for thinking.

    Her rainbow phone went, without question. Mom had left about half a dozen messages, all of which Lu ignored; Mom would ramble and rave and lecture to make her points, which were often invalidated by the cold truth. Still rainbow phone meant contact, possibly contact with Mud, and emergency travel via Bifrost. Gris didn’t fear Lu the way other gods and mortals did, and they found that they each liked a certain type of tea in the afternoon.

    She did pack clothes for him; Hiccup for all his bravado was mortal, and he would need to endure the colds that Frost Giants enjoyed. She had meant to send these to him as a joking birthday gift, but his birthday had passed, and there never seemed to be a good time to send them.  Now they would no longer be a joke, and serve a better purpose.

    Finally, she took something that made Fenrir’s eyes widen in alarm. He flopped on his belly and gave her a questioning look. She scratched a patch of pink on his belly but refused to put away the item that made him shudder.

    “I’m sure.” She gave the item a loud click that echoed all along her bedroom walls. “I am not dealing with this mess ten years down the line, every year to boot. This is the last time that a Jotun steals away our brother.”

    "I can't believe Hiccup went on another wild adventure and ditched us while we have Viking rescue missions," Snotlout complained. "How is that fair?"

    "It's not supposed to be fair," Astrid said in her trying-to-be-reasonable tone. "But the alternative was having a death goddess run loose all the way through the realms on her own, going on a wild streak. Hiccup being there will keep Lu from doing any more stupid stuff."

    The riders had hit open water as the sun had gone down; Eos the minute Dagur was in custody had sent a message to Astrid, along with a map that designated areas that Dagur had conquered. The chieftainess had made her orders clear: while Dagur was incapacitated on Berk, find out how many people he had damaged and conquered and figure out the recompense that he owed. She didn't say why, but Fishlegs and Astrid had figured out the reasons. The problem was that they couldn't convince the twins or Snotlout that this was a good idea.

    "I don't see why we have to fly away from the excitement," Ruffnut said. "You saw what Eos was going to do to Dagur! I bet she's going to slice him open to see how messed up he is on the inside!"

    "Nah, more likely she's going to tattoo his back with one of those wicked cool plants that we found," Tuffnut said. "You know the seed pods that squirt red and black ink. We made awesome war paint with those!"

    They high-fived and showed a stream of runes that ran from the backs of their hands up to their shoulders. Astrid had expressed admiration at Ruffnut's attention to detail earlier, and had received similar marking on her left hand before. They resembled the marks that a vine made when it streaked the ground.

    "Guys, this is important," she said sternly. "Dagur may be crazy enough to try and declare war on us for having dragons. But he may hold off on that if we gain enough advantage against him. And we have to do that while keeping the ice on Rainbow Isle isolated. .. "

    "The babies are covering that," Tuffnut called. "We don't have to worry about that at all."

    Astrid pressed her lips. That bit was true; after hearing what had happened to their cousin with the Jotun, Gunhild and Ardis had taken it upon themselves to guard Rainbow Isle and keep the ice from spreading. It was quite remarkable that they could keep to the task, what with their recent penchant for flying, and for soaring off to explore the unknown parts of the world. Helgi and Einar covered for their sisters when they could, but more often they served as lookout to prevent more men from landing on Rainbow Isle. They also did what they could to keep the garden that Mud had planted thriving. None of the riders had considered that dragons could take interest in such habits, or in the need to keep things normal in the face of calamity.

    Mud   . . . the other riders had treated him as a sort of mascot, as someone to take along on missions reluctantly. They had bonded with him, treating him as a mini-Hiccup. Astrid envied Snotlout and the twins, who were letting the present situation mask their worries.

    “I wish that we were with Hiccup,” Fishlegs said. “I mean, I know why we aren’t and Meatlug’s allergies probably can’t handle whatever is there in Asgard or Jotunheim, but it doesn’t feel right that we’re flying here without him. We’re being left out or we’re leaving him out, I don’t know what. He can't go out there alone.”

    “I know what you mean,” Astrid said. “But we’ve done well without him before, and he won't be alone. What about when Alvin captured him the first time? Or when he had to go to Asgard on his own and we were fighting the Hysterics and Outcasts?”

    “I remember,” Snotlout said. “How could anyone forget the day that the world nearly ended and I missed that big battle because some gods hit my dragon?”

    Hookfang grunted at the memory; he hadn’t liked Vali knocking him away. Snotlout patted his dragon.

    “What region is this anyway? “He asked. “We’ve never been down here before, with all the black trees that look like the ones from Outcast Island.”

    “Those trees aren’t black, Snotlout,” Fishlegs said with a frown. “They’ve been burned!”

    The devastation slowly bloomed beneath them, as they came to a large island. It had once held people; Astrid could tell by the abandoned docks, and by the remains of boats and nets that drifted in the shallow waters. She saw a torn sail snagged on a reef, and hoped that whoever had used it had lived.

    “I see a pole with the Berserker flag!” Tuffnut called. "They were here all right!"

    Cries of alarm echoed. The dragon riders immediately flew upward, so as to get out of range. Astrid stayed at the bottom of their practiced formation.

    “We’re not here to hurt you!” she called. “We come in peace!”

    No one seemed to believe them. The villagers didn’t seem ready for an attack, however. They ran for the trees, babies crying. Astrid caught a glimpse of many faces wrapped in bandages, arms in slings, and panic.

    “Wait!” Someone called. “I know these people! They mean well!”

    Quiet below. Astrid urged Stormfly to hover. The dragon waited, her eyes perked on hearing the voice. It took a few moments for Astrid to place the voice, because she had never heard it so cracked or worn out.

    “Astrid! Snotlout! Everyone! Land slowly.”

    “Heather?” Astrid and Snotlout said in confusion, and in dawning horror.

    They recognized the girl who seemed to have a wild twitch in her eyes, black hair singed from a fire. She signaled for them to land, as the tiny huddle of villagers scattered to make room. Astrid did so first, since Stormfly was the most graceful.  

    “It’s good to see you,” she said, with a forced smile. “I thought that I never would, after such a long time.”

    “Well, you’d have known if you had written,” Snotlout said. “Come on, you want to know what I’ve been up to lately, babe? Champion of Thor!”

    Astrid could see waves of salt off in a fenced square that must have once been a garden; a spiteful soul must have coated the land with salt so that no food would grow. Other smells hung in the air: rancid dung, unwashed babies, and stale blood. Lots of blood.

    “What are you doing here?” Astrid blurted out, although she already knew the answer. “I thought you sailed home with your family to your home village.”

    A dark glance entered Heather’s face. She turned at the villagers who stared at the dragons with awe and terror, and at the rubble that surrounded them.

“This is my village.”