Thirteen years later . . .

Hiccup woke up shivering under the thin blanket on the cold stone floor. Clenching his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering, he moved around quietly in the cellar, pulling on his boots and running his frozen fingers through his mop of hair in front of the cracked glass in the corner. He stared at his reflection for a moment, then jumped as he heard a voice bark downstairs, "Boy, get up here now!" He ran up the steps and almost tripped his way into the main room. At the table, glaring at him with cold, beady eyes, was Magnus. Physically, he was like everyone else. Large in height and width, with a long beard and a typical Viking helmet. But whereas everyone else had a soft spot that they exposed at least once a day, there was nothing soft about Magnus at all. His voice was hard, his face was hard, and his head was even harder. So were his fists.

"You're late again," he snapped. Hiccup looked down at the floor, having no excuse, though his mind quickly conjured up a few things to shoot right back at him that he didn't dare say.

"Look at me!" Magnus ordered. "Make my breakfast and get on to the smithy."

"But I haven't had anything to eat yet," Hiccup protested before he could stop himself, and Magnus immediately rose from his seat, shooting across the room faster than Hiccup would have thought possible for such a large man. In the blink of an eye, he'd grabbed Hiccup's ear and given it a painful upwards yank. "In case it's unclear, you are being punished. Maybe a few hours of going hungry will teach you not to neglect your duties." What Magnus didn't know was that the blacksmith, Gobber, whom Hiccup was apprenticed to, always kept several snacks handy in his pantry exclusively for this purpose, so the prospect of not having breakfast wasn't that big of an issue for him. But it wouldn't do to let certain parties know about that.

Once released, Hiccup went to the stove and prepared the food the way he always did: four eggs, an entire roasted fish, three strips of bacon, and a tankard of mead. As he neared the table where Magnus sat scowling, he noticed his hands were starting to shake, and it wasn't from being cold. Magnus was the terror of the village now and, unfortunately, the regent as well. He was highly critical of everything and had never once offered Hiccup any sort of affection. Quite the contrary, in fact, as he had a heck of a temper and liked to take out the day's frustrations on Hiccup. He didn't even use his name, instead called him "boy" and treated him more like a slave than the chief's son he ought to be.

Hiccup gripped the plate unnecessarily hard to hide how badly his hands trembled as he put it down in front of Magnus, who started eating immediately. As much as he hated the man, he was more afraid of him and did everything in his power to avoid a beating. And yet there was a part of him that was stupid in the ways of survival and refused to be bullied and demanded he stand up to Magnus. And then you add in human imperfections and mistakes and forgetfulness and things just kind of spiral downward from there. This was how he got into trouble most times. His only form of escape was the smithy, right in the center of the village, where Magnus would ignore him for ten whole hours—sometimes more, if he was lucky—and he could relax a bit and actually talk to people without the constant fear of being taken to with a belt. Gobber often commented on how the other villagers liked him so much, not just because of his friendly disposition, but because they, too, despised Magnus and Hiccup was the closest thing they had to their real chief, who'd disappeared when Hiccup was little. They missed him.

Magnus stopped eating suddenly and whirled around to a standing position, all but dropping his fork on the table. Hiccup froze, his fingers poised on the door handle, mere inches away from freedom yet unable to run. If he did, Magnus would surely make the punishment much worse. He wouldn't care if it happened outside for everyone to see. Anyone who tried to help Hiccup, at least that Magnus was aware of, ran a serious risk of jail time, or worse.

Magnus' glare was blistering. "You didn't cook the food properly!" he accused, his voice like thunder. It was true. Glancing past him, Hiccup saw that the bottom of the eggs were a wet, gloppy mess as opposed to the hot, fluffy scrambled eggs they were supposed to be. It wasn't his fault he'd never been that great of a cook, especially when Magnus didn't offer any instruction. Magnus stomped towards him menacingly and Hiccup cringed against the door, searching for a way out when there was none to be had. He raised his hands to protect his face, but Magnus took both his wrists with one hand and pulled them out of the way. His other hand grabbed Hiccup by a fistful of hair and rammed his head agains the wall several times. Hiccup clenched his teeth to keep from letting out the pathetic, helpless whimper that he knew Magnus so desired to hear.

"If you ever let this happen again," the jailer growled, "it'll be your skin. You hear?"

Seeing an escape route, Hiccup nodded definitely, but it wasn't enough. Magnus bent his arms back in an unnatural way, eliciting a strangled cry of pain. "Answer me!"

"Yes, sir," Hiccup whispered, and Magnus let him go. He yanked open the door angrily, letting in a blast of cold sea air, shoved Hiccup down the stairs roughly and slammed the door shut behind him.

As soon as he was sure Magnus was gone, Hiccup sprinted down to the smithy where Gobber was just getting the flames going. When he saw his apprentice dart in through the doorway, he smiled. "Morning," he said cheerfully. Then he added in a more serious tone, "Any shots fired?" He was referring to whether Magnus had gone after him or not.

Hiccup sighed, holding his hands over the glowing embers to warm them up. This was where he felt most at home, by the heat of the fireside and away from Magnus. Especially since his master was more of a father to him than Magnus had ever been. It was because of Gobber that Hiccup even knew his name in the first place. "Gobber, I need to learn how to cook. Those stupid scrambled eggs are going to be the death of me."

Gobber chuckled, although it wasn't really that funny. "Well, I'm not a five-star chef myself, but I bet I can at least get you to cook an egg the right way."

"Any orders come in?" Hiccup asked.

"Uh, yeah," Gobber replied nonchalantly. It was a well-polished strategy between the two to keep Hiccup in the smithy for as long as possible, even when there were no orders coming in, because then Magnus would think that Gobber had been working him extra hard and not grill him when he got back late. Normally, Berkians were a strong, self-reliant sort, but there were some close-knit bonds in the tribe, and they looked out for each other. Really, the tribe was just one big family, excluding Magnus, of course.

Gobber looked through his list and handed a specific slip of paper to Hiccup, who started with surprise at the name. "Astrid came by?" Gobber nodded. Astrid and Hiccup had been friends for years, only a few months apart age-wise, but they'd been seeing each other for the past few weeks now, unknown to Magnus. They hadn't kissed or anything, but Gobber reported that Hiccup kept getting increasingly starry-eyed whenever she came into view. "I've seen the signs," he intoned. "It won't be long now."

Trying to figure out what exactly Gobber was waiting for between him and Astrid made Hiccup a little uncomfortable, so he tried not to press the matter. He studied the order carefully. She wanted a new battle axe, one that was both powerful and easy to maneuver. A little bling would be nice, but she didn't want too much of it.

"Make it special for her," Gobber suggested. "She's your girlfriend, whether you admit it or not."

"Talk a little louder, why don't you?" Hiccup retorted, half thrilled at the words "she's your girlfriend" and half alarmed because her father was standing right there in the window.

"What are you worried about? He likes the idea as much as I do, trust me," Gobber said, grinning. The two worked together for a while, crafting weapon after weapon, until finally Hiccup's grumbling stomach got the better of him. "Do you have anything in the pantry?" he asked. "Magnus had me skip breakfast again."

Gobber huffed in annoyance at the jailer's name. "Crap! I knew I shouldn't have eaten that last piece of pie the Thorstons sent over! Sorry, all I've got left is a pack of crackers." Hiccup shrugged. "It's okay. It's something, at least."

"What, crackers?" scoffed a familiar voice boldly. "I've got something right here that'll knock that out of the park."

Astrid! Hiccup glanced at Gobber for the go-ahead, got it, then hastily stuck her new axe in a corner and went out the back to meet her. It was finished, but he wanted it to be a surprise. He turned to the left, where he thought she was, and he was right. The gorgeous blonde bombshell was resting her weight on one leg, with her hands cradling a wicker basket.

"Morning, milady," Hiccup greeted her. "What do you have there?"

"A proper meal, for starters." She crouched down and unlatched the lid, then drew out a loaf of freshly baked bread, a block of cheese, and a few pieces of cold mutton. She cut up the bread and cheese while Hiccup dove into one of the mutton slices. She made sandwiches for them out of the three ingredients and handed one to Hiccup. Sitting down, he took her hand and shook it for emphasis. "Madam, you are a lifesaver," he complimented, to which Astrid smiled. They ate in silence for a while until Astrid said, "My dad's thinking about rebelling." Her voice was quiet, barely above a whisper, so different from the fiery, proud spirit Hiccup was used to. He put down his sandwich to double-check her face to see if she was joking. She wasn't. She was dead serious. "It's not just him, you know? Plenty of people are getting fed up—have been fed up—with the way Magnus has treated you, us, and don't even get me started on the small bit of power your dad gave him. He overstepped his bounds years ago." She dropped her gaze to her lap, her face grim.

"But who would take his place, then, if you were to succeed?" Hiccup asked. He knew Magnus was a good fighter, there was no way to deny it, and he didn't even want to fathom what might happen if someone got injured or even killed for him. It hurt just thinking about it. He saw the way Astrid looked up at him, hopeful and confident, and the answer hit him like a ton of bricks.

"Me? You want me to lead a rebellion?" Hiccup was so stunned he could hardly get the words out.

"Not necessarily lead it," Astrid corrected. "Just . . . " She sighed. "My dad said that when your father appointed Magnus as acting chief, he was the only person qualified for the job. I mean, he wasn't that likable then, either, but he was the only option we had. Now you're getting to the point where you can start thinking like a real chief. No one's going to be on Magnus' side; even with his skill, we'd oust him in seconds. You could lead the tribe, and you'd have the rest of us to fall back on from time to time." As she said these words, these world-rocking words, Astrid was unable to keep the excitement off of her face, and for a moment, Hiccup saw himself as chief the way Astrid did. Strong and powerful, beloved by his people, wise and kind and radiating peace. He had to admit it, the idea was pretty cool.

But was that really him?

"Astrid, I'm only fifteen. I'm not even old enough to be chief yet," Hiccup protested. "Anyway, I have no idea what to say, what to do, how to act." He stared at her, lost. "I mean, how can you expect me to be something when I have no idea what it actually looks like?"

Astrid's gaze bored into him. "The time is coming, Hiccup, whether you like it or not. Haven't you noticed how many orders Gobber has been getting lately? You're coming of age soon and you've got a lot of people in your corner. We are ready to fight."

Hiccup broke eye contact with her, unable to fathom most of what he'd heard. Yes, Magnus was terrible. Yes, the villagers hated him. But were they really that desperate, favoring a scarred, underfed teenager over an experienced veteran? It was just too crazy to believe. Astrid gently lifted his chin so he would look at her again. Her eyes were soft and he knew she understood why he couldn't answer.

"Do you know how many times a day my dad tells me you look like your father? He sees so much of him in you. That's why you have the whole village on your side, Hiccup. You are a living, breathing reminder of the times when things were good. And with you as our chief . . . we could have that again. Not just the others, but you and me. We wouldn't have to hide anymore. We could . . . " She didn't have to go on. Hiccup knew what she wanted. To be married someday and have children with nothing but a full, happy life ahead. He also knew the chances of that happening while Magnus was around were very slim. "Promise me you'll at least think about it," she whispered.

Hiccup smiled, got up and ducked into the smithy to get her new axe. "Let this be my promise."

Astrid gasped in awe. "Oh, Hiccup, it's beautiful!" Her expert hands swung the gleaming weapon around in a circle, then took a stance and planted the blade firmly in the nearest piece of wood, which happened to be a support beam of the smithy.

"Hey!" Gobber called back. "No using my shop as a target!"

"Sorry, Gobber!" Astrid said. She removed the axe from the wall and ran her fingers along the handle fervently, tracing the decorative carving ever so gently, as if it were made of glass. She finally looked at Hiccup, grinning from ear to ear. "Thank you so much, Hiccup. It really is amazing."

"Take care of it, now. You might need to use it," he answered. Astrid blinked at him, surprised. "So you are going to do it?"

"Yes. No. I don't know!" Hiccup sighed. "I guess what I mean is, I'll try."

Astrid opened her mouth to respond, but Gobber stuck his head outside. "Hey, lovebirds! Incoming at three o'clock." Code for Magnus is coming! Approaching from the right side! "I need you in here looking busy in about ten seconds!"

"I'll see you soon," Astrid promised. "Thanks again for the axe." Without warning she pulled him close and gave him a peck on the cheek, then darted away, leaving Hiccup dumbfounded. He rushed into the smithy and headed for the largest pile of weapons. Anything to keep his hands busy while Magnus was around.

The villagers moved away to give the jailer plenty of space, and it wasn't out of respect. Hiccup saw more than one person give him the eye when he wasn't paying attention to them. Magnus went up to the counter, ignoring the line behind him, and imperiously demanded that Gobber get him the finest flail in the shop. Gobber consented, sounding indifferent, but when he turned around he looked very worried. Hiccup held his breath. The flail was Magnus' weapon of choice, treating it like a whip. This order, especially with Hiccup in earshot, was clearly a warning of the highest rank. If he didn't walk the straight and narrow tonight after work, there would be trouble. Big trouble. The only problem was, Magnus was a very difficult person to please, so knowing what to do and what not to do required just as much luck as experience.

As soon as he was gone, though, Hiccup's fear left him and was quickly replaced by giddiness. He whirled around to face Gobber. "She kissed me!" he whisper-yelled. "She freaking kissed me!" The blacksmith laughed gleefully. "I told you it wouldn't be long before one of you broke the ice."

So that's what he was waiting on.

The next several hours went by in a whirl. Orders were slowing down, but Gobber always made sure Hiccup was doing something—or at least looked like it—when Magnus dropped by from time to time. Given all their years of practice, the two were pros at deception. When his jailer wasn't stalking him, Hiccup spoke quietly of the possible rebellion. Gobber didn't seem surprised. In fact, he actually smiled a little when Hiccup got to the part about himself as chief.

"It just seems a little early, you know?" Hiccup explained. "I'm not even an adult yet, and here I have a potential uprising on my hands."

Gobber looked at him strangely. "What, you think it took us fifteen years to decide that Magnus is a kraken in disguise? No. I don't know about anyone else, but I know I came to that conclusion several years ago, when you were . . . about seven. It was the first time Magnus had really gone after you, and the entire village was in total shock."

Hiccup nodded, remembering that time. He couldn't recall what he'd done wrong—maybe he forgot to put extra wood on the hearth or something—but he did remember the first time Magnus had dragged him down to the cellar, tied him up and traced the backs of his arms and legs with a knife. He hadn't been able to stretch for weeks.

Just when his brain was delving a little too deeply into its darker corners, Gobber's voice brought him back up again. "I realized how very little we actually knew about Magnus. And I guess that's when we all kind of decided that he wasn't welcome here anymore. Of course, we had no one else to take his place and you hadn't even hit your double digits yet, so we've been biding our time ever since. But we were sure of one thing. Your father would never . . . never . . . have scared us like that. And every time Magnus goes after you, it makes us want him back all the more."

Hiccup liked hearing Gobber talk about his father. The only memories he had were faint and blurry, but he distinctly remembered that deep, bellowing laughter, the kind that made you want to join in right away when you heard it. Sometimes, when Magnus gave him an especially harsh punishment, after it was over, he'd find himself pulling up that memory in his head, playing it over and over again to comfort himself. He'd never heard his father's name; saying it aloud was too painful for Gobber, as he'd been one of the chief's closest friends, practically a brother. But every time he brought it up, Hiccup felt like things suddenly got better. The distant chatter in the village was more cheerful, the birds sang sweeter, even the sun seemed brighter. So maybe it was just his imagination, but whoever the chief was, whatever he was like, Gobber made him out to be a hero. Someone to be depended on, someone Hiccup could trust.

He also liked hearing how different his father was from Magnus, at least in Gobber's perspective. At his best, Magnus was distant. At his worst, he was a predator, a monster. But Hiccup's father sounded . . . normal. A leader, obviously, and with all the ferocity and invulnerability of any Viking. But when Hiccup envisioned his father, based on what he'd heard, he knew that this violence was not lust for the blood of the enemy, but the evidence of his desire to protect those he cared about. Hiccup wanted to believe that he was one of those people, but why, then, would he have left Magnus in charge if he knew what he was truly like?

He voiced the question to Gobber, who vehemently shook his head. "Trust me, he had no idea. Heck, we had no idea. I mean, even then Magnus was creepy and about as interesting as sea slime—"

Hiccup laughed.

"—but your father only meant to be away for a few weeks. He had no way of knowing what would happen out there." Gobber suddenly seemed to think he'd said too much. He clammed up and started polishing a stray sword.

"What do you think happened?" Hiccup asked, gauging Gobber's face carefully.

Gobber shrugged. "Beats me. Maybe he got caught in a storm or something."

"Thirteen years?" Hiccup clarified, and the blacksmith sighed, shaking his head mournfully. "I don't know. No one does. And Gothi hasn't had a vision since he left, so she's in the dark, too."

The healer's visions weren't the only thing lacking in Magnus' reign. The dragons hadn't attacked Berk in years, either. And while Hiccup knew good and well there were dragons on the island, they'd been keeping an almost disturbingly low profile. Like they wanted the Berkians to believe they didn't exist. Hiccup and Astrid joked sometimes that the dragons were as repulsed by "Magnus, the chief" as the villagers were. Not that that helped them any. If the dragons did raid Berk, there was a least a chance of Magnus getting carried off, which, of course, never revealed itself. All the same, Hiccup found himself somewhat entranced by the idea of life without Magnus, and the sudden freedom his absence would bring. But then, someone would still have to lead . . . which brought his head down from the clouds again.