“Why? Why? Why did you?” Astrid’s voice ripped through the stillness of the forest, each swing of her axe a desperate plea against the unyielding wood. With each strike, her vision blurred with tears, her heart hammering against her ribs. She saw his face – the boy, thin-limbed and auburn-haired, with eyes the color of emeralds – superimposed on the tree’s rough bark. It haunted her sleep, shadowed her days, and struck with blinding clarity each morning. “Why did you have to die?”
Astrid’s broken question was aimed at no one, lost in the echo of her own grief. She’d lost count of how many times she’d asked it, praying to Thor for a glimpse of those captivating eyes again, just once more.
Normally, she could channel the rage, walk away, and find solace in the forest’s quiet embrace. But today was different. Today, she was trapped.
The annual gathering of the tribes was about to begin on Berk, on the anniversary of Hiccup’s sacrifice – the day he’d faced the Red Death and changed their lives forever. Each year, Astrid found herself drawn to this spot, overwhelmed by grief, lashing out at the world. She’d long ago resigned herself to the pitying glances of Snoutlout, Fishlegs, the Thorston twins, and the rest of the islanders who pretended not to notice her annual disappearance into the woods.
“Astrid?” Ruffnut asked timidly, Heather at her side. They walked slowly, cautiously, hoping to avoid the wrath Astrid was known for. “The other tribes are coming… we need our shieldmaiden to present herself to the council.”
“I can’t… I can’t today,” Astrid answered, her voice hollow. She retreated deeper into the shadows behind a thick stand of trees.
“Sit down,” Heather offered, patting the mossy roots of a fallen tree. “Tell us what’s going on. It’s been too long.”
“Seven years,” Astrid said, collapsing onto the ground, “and I still see him every day. It’s too much.”
“We know it’s hard,” Heather said gently. “He was special. And you’re about to become a full-fledged shieldmaiden.”
“Yeah,” Ruffnut chimed in. “Gothi said this is your last challenge. If you finish it, you’ll find peace and become the best shieldmaiden Berk has ever seen.”
“The challenge is easy. Ignoring the endless stream of suitors is easier than knocking Snoutlout into a mud puddle.” Astrid sighed, exhaustion weighing on her shoulders. “What’s hard is… I can’t stop thinking about him. I don’t think I’ll ever find peace. Losing him… it haunts me.”
“He wouldn’t want to see you like this,” Heather said firmly. “He did what he had to do to save the tribe, his father, and most importantly… you.”
“I guess you’re right,” Astrid conceded.
“Of course I am,” Heather said with a wink. “Unlike *some* people.”
“Wait a minute,” Ruffnut interrupted, her eyes narrowing. “You’re talking about me, aren’t you?”
“It takes her less than ten seconds to figure it out,” Heather said with a mischievous grin, and before Astrid could intervene, Ruffnut launched herself at Heather, and the two of them tumbled into a playful wrestling match.
Astrid couldn’t help but chuckle at their antics. It was a welcome distraction.
“Alright, break it up, you two,” she said, rising to her feet, radiating a confidence she hadn’t felt moments before. “After that, you can fight and punch each other all you want. I’ll even be the judge if it makes you happy.”
“You promise?” they asked in unison, their eyes shining with hope.
“I give you the Hofferson’s word. Now come on, we’re going to be late.” Astrid grabbed their arms and dragged them out of the forest, their playful banter trailing behind them.
On the way, they lunged at each other, mock-fighting while Astrid struggled to contain her laughter.
“Hey,” Astrid said as the hall came into view, transforming the two brawling warriors into statuesque figures of strength. “Thanks. I didn’t think I’d be standing here this morning.”
“You can decide what chores you’ll be taking from us later,” Heather said, shoving both Ruffnut and Astrid through the massive doorway. “As for now, we need to go in, or Stoick will skin us alive.”
Inside, the hall was packed shoulder to shoulder. Somehow, a path cleared as the three Vikings were recognized.
For the whole of the Archipelago, everyone had heard of them, and even more so on Berk. Knowing this new generation of Vikings was essential for any islander.
There was the boisterous Snoutlout, now more muscular and, thankfully, less whiny and more caring. Though he still flirted with every girl he saw.
Next was Fishlegs, who had grown even larger, carrying a massive tome filled with countless dragon attributes and stories about the mysterious ‘Dragon Master’ and his battles.
Then came the Thorston twins, their pranks growing more elaborate and destructive with each passing year. Ruffnut was constantly falling for handsome lads while Tuffnut grew closer to a chicken he’d befriended during one of their adventures.
Beside them was Heather, who had joined the gang after her brother agreed with Stoick’s plan to unite the Archipelago. Heather was second only to Astrid in beauty and battle prowess.
And then there was Astrid. The pride of Berk. Her golden braid fell over her shoulder, her right hand gripping an axe. She was both threatening and captivating, the unbreakable shieldmaiden who had refused countless suitors without a second glance. ‘The Fearless Hofferson.’
“Ah, Astrid, you arrive just in time,” Stoick’s voice boomed, gesturing for them to approach. “Have you thought it over? The council’s offer.”
Hope surged through Astrid. “Yes,” she said proudly, standing before the table of chieftains and chieftesses. “I, Astrid Hofferson, accept the council’s request to become the first commander of the Archipelago Alliance.”
The leaders nodded in agreement, even the Outcasts reluctantly acknowledging her choice. Astrid had won a series of combat trials days earlier, earning the offer.
Cheers erupted from the village as the news spread.
“Astrid…” Stoick beckoned her closer, his voice laced with emotion. “I am so proud of you. And I know he would be too.”
The words struck Astrid like a blow. She’d done this *for* him.
“Yes,” she whispered. “He would.” She hugged Stoick, a single tear tracing a path down her cheek.
“What about us?” Tuffnut protested, interrupting their moment.
“Yeah, you two always do this,” Ruffnut added.
“Now, now,” Heather said. “Let her be. She’s already cried this morning, and she’s crying now.”
“Oh my god, she cried? ‘The Fearless Hofferson’ cried?” Snoutlout blurted out, drawing attention to the group.
“Shut up guys,” Astrid snapped, raising her arm and knocking Snoutlout unconscious.
“Why couldn’t he just stop talking?” Astrid complained, staring at the unconscious Snoutlout wearily.
Suddenly, the doors swung open, silencing everyone. A path cleared for a man named Johann, a well-known trader who always sent terror-mails weeks prior to his arrival. His sudden appearance, on this day of all days, was unsettling.
“Johann, what brings you here without notice?” Stoick asked, surprised.
“I see Master H’s information was correct,” Johann said, scanning the hall until his eyes landed on the table of chieftains. “I didn’t come to trade. I’m here to represent Master H, or as you call him, ‘The Dragon Master’.”
Immediately, excitement rippled through the hall, even Astrid felt a surge of anticipation.
“‘The Dragon Master,’ he is real?” Fishlegs asked, breathlessly.
“I assure you, Mr. Fishlegs, he is very real. And so are the stories you’ve heard over the years.”
“What does he want with us?” Stoick demanded.
“He wants to join forces to face a bigger threat. Afterward, if you want to maintain the relationship, it’s up to you.”
“What kind of threat requires ‘The Dragon Master’ to join *us*?” Stoick asked, his voice laced with dread.
“This isn’t a threat he couldn’t handle alone. The battlefield is here, on this island.”
“This island?” Stoick’s voice nearly shattered every ear in the hall.
“Yes, this very island,” Johann said, producing a scroll. “To the Chieftains and Chieftesses of the Alliance, my story may seem like a myth, something unreal. But it is very real. It has taken everything from me, so much so that I cannot describe it in words. I wish to not have any of you in this fight. However, it seems that would be impossible, as my enemy next target is your very island and a man goes by the name of Stoick ‘The Vast’. He said that you have made an enemy out of him years ago and now, he wants revenge. This man name might be strange to most of you, but to those who know him, then you will recognize it. Drago Bludvist…”
Stoick slammed his fist on the table, shattering it, and sending splinters flying.
“We will get through this Chief, all of us, banding together and face this threat with ‘The Dragon Master’.” Astrid said with a commanding voice.
“Fine, we will fight,” Stoick bellowed. "Can you tell ‘The Dragon Master’ that we will be joining him in his fight for our island?”
“There is no need,” Johann answered with a chuckle. "He already knows."
Suddenly, a shadowy figure dashed out of the hall, mounting a black Night Fury. Before anyone could react, the dragon soared into the sky, disappearing into the clouds.
“Night Fury,” Fishlegs whispered, staring after them.
The alliance was forged, but the shadow of Drago Bludvist loomed large, threatening to engulf Berk and the entire Archipelago in darkness.