Captain Fury: Pirate of Berk

50: A Hero's Welcome

Fifty: A Hero's Welcome.

Shouts went up all over Berkisport as the ragged black sails of the Night Fury were sighted the next morning. Without any invitation, most of the population headed down to the cliffs and the harbour to greet the last hero of the battle for Berk. Stoick and Snotlout had to bellow to be let through the throng and take their places on the dock as the ship trimmed her sails and drew alongside. Camicazi, Mathilda and BJ all sped up, with the female pirate captain winking knowingly at Snotlout, who grinned broadly back. There was muttering and complaining as the other pirates-Viggo, Thuggory and Leifur-pushed through the crowds to join them.

The Night Fury had certainly seen better days: her sails ragged and torn, her rails smashed and rigging coming down. The crew were working hard and on the poop deck, by Ruff at the wheel, the small jet-haired boy was standing thoughtfully alongside the grey and purple dragon that was nuzzling into his hand and purring reassuringly. Eager hands grasped the ropes the ship threw over and the dock-workers couldn't moor her quickly enough. Finally, as Stoick shuffled his feet and Snotlout scuffed his heel a few times, the gangplank was lowered and Fishlegs appeared at the end.

"We need Gothi the medic," he said.

Snotlout's eyes instantly widened with worry, staring across the deck and realising there was no sign of Hiccup or Astrid. He started forward, his face concerned.

"Are they...?"

"Astrid was stabbed in the back by Heather and Hiccup..." Then he paused. Snotlout walked closer, reading the worry in his face.

"Fishlegs?" he asked in a low voice. "Is he alive?" The First Mate nodded but wouldn't meet his eye.

"But he's dying," he revealed miserably. Snotlout frowned and grabbed his hand.

"Show me..." he insisted but Fishlegs shook his head.

"We need to get them both to Gothi," he said, beckoning. Roar and Mulch emerged with a bier, carrying Astrid, swathed in blankets but conscious, though deathly pale. Her hand snaked out and grabbed Snotlout's arm, the grip fierce.

"Hiccup?" she whispered. "They won't...let me see..." The Heir looked up helplessly-as Sven and Tuff emerged with another stretcher, carrying Hiccup...and immediately, Snotlout saw what Fishlegs had meant. The Captain was colourless save red spots on his cheeks, his emerald eyes glazed with fever. His dark auburn hair was stuck to his sweat-sheered face in tendrils and he was breathing raspily. He was moaning and whining, mumbling to his wife and his son without seeing a thing around him. Despite her own injuries, Astrid reached out for his hand: it was scorching hot and he thrashed in agitation.

"ASTRID? Please...where are you? Please...tell me I didn't fail! Please tell me it wasn't true...that it wasn't all a lie...that once, you did...like me...please...I love you...don't leave me..."

Tears stood out on his face and Astrid felt her heart break just a little more: the desolation in his fevered voice reminded her of how horribly she had hurt him by making the choice she had...and how dismally he had suffered.

"I'm here, babe," she called, wincing as he jerked on her arm. "Don't leave me now I've finally got you back!"

"What's happened?" Snotlout demanded, his blue eyes grim. Tuff sighed.

"It was..."

"If you say awesome, I will punch you!" Snotlout threatened. Tuff blinked and stared at him, hurt.

"I was going to say TOTALLY AWESOME actually!" he protested as Snotlout growled. "Look, he took on a giant dragon, a vortex, Drago, Dagur and a storm. Not surprising our skinny Captain came off second best."