Trust Must Be Earned | Eret Son of Eret (HTTYD)

CHAPTER FOUR - ARGUMENTS & ESCAPES

The entire way back to Berk, Atlas couldn't help but think about the man's words. She had no doubts that those people meant business. She also knew that they were a force to be reckoned with. She tried to imagine her Crimson tied down like Stormfly, at the mercy of that man. She shivered. She would die before she would let those nasty men get a hold of her dragon. Or any of her friends.

- - - - - - -

As they land on Berk, Atlas breathes a sigh of relief, finally feeling safe.

"Ha ha!" Stoick greets them. "There he is! The pride of Berk."

"Who finally decided to show up for work." Gobber puts in.

"Sorry, got held up. Hey, uh, dad? Could I have a word?"

"It's really important." Atlas says.

"Something you're itching to tell me?" Stoick asks in excitement.

"Wow, someone's cheery." Atlas mumbles to Astrid.

"I know. It's weird." The blonde responds.

"Uh, not quite the itch you're thinking of, but yes."

"Good man! Now, lesson one: a chief's first duty is to his people." Stoick says, grabbing a wood tablet with a number on it off a hook. "So, forty-one!" He calls out.

"Well, can we just talk in private for..." Hiccup trails off as he notices his dad is still not listening.

Atlas elbows her brother in the side. "Come on!" She hisses.

"Forty-"

"That's me! That's me!" A villager cries out, rushing to the front of the line. "I'm next! Hey, I was ahead of you!"

"If we could just..." Hiccup again tries to get his father's attention, but fails miserably. Atlas rolls her eyes at his flimsy attempt.

"Excuse me, I've been here all day," the villager says. "Okay, okay. I want one of those high seaters, with lots of spikes, and a big storage compartment!"

Atlas immediately grabs some paper and a pencil from her pouch, and begins jotting down notes. Hey, once a blacksmith, always a blacksmith.

Hiccup notices her. "Seriously, Atlas?"

"Absolutely! You got it, sir!" Stoick says.

"Dad, this is actually a little more important than building saddles."

"Ah, lesson two: no task is too small, when it comes to serving your people!" Stoick sing-songs. "Oop, excuse us Grump. Atlas, could you-"

"Way ahead of you, dad." Atlas interrupts, already gathering materials for the man's saddle. Her father grins at her.

"Aaaagh! Grump!" Gobber yells at his lazy dragon. "You let the forge die down again!" Grump struggles to get up, and then sneezes, sending lava everywhere and starting a fire.

Atlas yelps as some of the lava almost hits her.

Gobber sighs and pulls a rope, making water spray from the ceiling, putting the fire out. "That's it, Grump. You're going up for adoption."

Atlas scoffs. No way in a million years would Gobber put Grump up for adoption.

"Yeah, but seriously, dad, I really need to tell you about this new land we came across." Hiccup begins.

"Any new dragons?" Fishlegs asks hopefully.

"We didn't stick around to find out. These folks weren't particularly friendly."

Atlas snorts. "Quite the opposite, you could say."

"Oh really? Your Night Fury, Screaming Death, and Deadly Nadder didn't bring them cheering to the rooftops?" Gobber asks sarcastically.