The Queen Theory

Hiccup stared at the ceiling of his old bedroom, wondering how long he could avoid the inevitable conversation waiting for him below. The sun had been down for no more than five minutes, but each moment he lingered in his bedroom made him feel increasingly guilty.

He was about to open a can of worms, based purely on his own suspicions.

Let's get this over with, he decided, rolling to his feet. He descended the stairs, unsurprised to see his father waiting for him below.

"Hungry?" Stoick asked, motioning to a bowl of stew on the table.

Hiccup was ravenous –because of the raid, he hadn't eaten anything in over a day. He thanked his father, eagerly gulping down the meal. As he scraped the bowl clean, he could tell that Stoick was barely reining in his questions.

"Just ask," he said, grabbing a piece of bread from the loaf between them.

Stoick needed no further encouragement, "we need to discuss last night, son. You were…unresponsive when I found you. What was happening?"

Hiccup took a large bite of the bread, using his full mouth as an excuse to buy time before answering. "It's not usually that bad," he said, unsure how to explain the issue.

"Usually?"

Hiccup cringed. "There's this…well, I wouldn't really say voice , it's more a call or a pull or something. It happens every raid and kinda digs into my skull? Usually it just gives me a headache, but gods it was so much louder last night…"

Stoick looked disturbed by his words, jaw twitching. "A call?"

"Yeah," agreed Hiccup, looking down at the tabletop. He was certain his father would not like where the conversation was headed. "It's like something's yelling directly in my ear but it's jumbled and I can't quite make out the words…all I know is it's hungry , and it's so angry , dad. It feels like it's breathing down my neck, and I just get this feeling like I need to do something to make it stop even if I can't figure out what that is."

Stoick furrowed his brow, "Why would only you be hearing this?"

"I think it's pretty safe to assume it's a dragon thing," replied Hiccup, unable to keep the bite out of his tone. "Honestly, I think it might be the source of the raids. The rest of the dragons are probably hearing it – whatever it is – much clearer than me, and that's gotta be what's driving them."

"A voice only dragons can hear…" Stoick said, more to himself than to Hiccup. He looked deeply concerned by the possibility. "Some kind of sorcery?"

"I don't think so," dismissed Hiccup, taking a quick swig of water before sharing his suspicions. "I think it's a queen."

The theory of a dragon queen was nothing new. It had never been proven outright, but several villages across the archipelago had considered the prospect over the years. The dragons attacked with an almost single-minded determination, not unlike that of a hive mind. They always arrived together and left together, relying on strength in numbers.

Stoick paled. "You're hearing a dragon queen?"

"I think so," he confirmed, "It's the only theory that makes sense. It happens every raid and disappears when the dragons do. I don't know how to describe it, but I feel this pull whenever I hear it…"

"Why didn't you say anything about this before?"

"It's not like I can prove it!" Hiccup defended. "It was bad enough, telling you about the curse. I didn't want you to think I was losing my mind on top of everything!"

"Son…"

"Forget it – doesn't matter now. You know."

Stoick's mouth pressed into a thin line, but he didn't push the sore subject any further. "If there is a queen , and if it is the source of the attacks…this could be the missing piece of the puzzle that we've been looking for all these years. If we can track it down and kill it, that might finally free us from the raids once and for all."

Hiccup pushed back from the table, "That's a lot of 'if's'."

"Aye, but it's the best lead we've had in generations. I can't ignore that. Let me go grab Gobber – we could use as much help as we can get."

While Stoick caught Gobber up to speed on their working theory, Hiccup made himself comfortable by the fire. He stared into it, idly wondering how something could bring such warmth and comfort one day and then destruction the next.

It needed stoking, he observed, as it began to fade down to the embers. He pushed up his left sleeve, plunging his hand into the flames and readjusting the position of the logs. It was still strange to him, years later, how the sensation felt more like prickling against his scales than anything else.

He startled when he heard his father cry out, glancing over his shoulder to see what had happened.

Stoick stared at him with wide eyes, frozen midstep as if he'd been about to rush towards him. Hiccup raised an eyebrow, silently asking the man to explain himself.

"Neat trick, lad," said Gobber, nodding meaningfully towards his hand.

It was still in the fire, Hiccup realized. Flushing, he pulled it out of the flames. "Oh right. Sorry, I wasn't thinking."

He hadn't had tools at his disposal on the other side of the island, so using his hand for stocking fires had become an ingrained habit over time. So much so that he'd accidentally plunged his right hand in once…a mistake he was very careful never to repeat. If not for his quick healing, he suspected his good arm would be mottled by burn scars.

Stoick cleared his throat, voice sounding strained when he spoke. "It's fine, son. Just…took us by surprise."

Face still feeling hot, Hiccup tried to change the subject. "Did you fill him in?"

"Aye."

"Any ideas?" He asked, attention shifting to his old mentor. The man had a knack for solving problems, always able to look at things from a unique perspective.

Gobber took a seat across from him, resting his elbows on his knees. "Jus' one. Ya said you felt a pull when ya heard it?"

Hiccup nodded.

"An' did tha' pull…seem to come from somewhere specific?"

He considered the question, reflecting back on the previous night. It was hard to think of anything other than the overbearing calls of hunger and anger, but beneath it all…there had been something.

"I think so, actually," he said with surprise. "Nothing concrete, but I think I could feel the general direction where it was coming from."

Gobber grinned, "I reckin' we nee' a dragon to find the queen."

It was an interesting proposition, using their enemy to find their enemy. It was so crazy that it just might work.

Stoick seemed to share the sentiment, clasping his hands together in excitement. "We could take one of the dragons from the ring – perhaps the Nadder? – aboard a ship. The dragon is bound to have a reaction to the call, if it's as aggressive as Hiccup says. The more agitated the dragon gets, the closer we must be."

Hiccup chewed his lip, a wild idea forming. "Why use the Nadder?" He asked, rushing to get the words out before he lost the nerve. "She won't understand what we're doing, and she'll fight you every step of the way. It only makes sense to use me."

"No."

"Why not?" He pressed on, "It's the simplest solution. You need a dragon, and I want to help."

"I'm not taking you to fight some demon dragon."

"It's a queen, not a demon," he corrected. "And I'm not one of her subjects. The other dragons don't have a human mind to fight her. If they get too close, they'll turn on you."

"You didn't see yourself last night, you couldn't even move!" Stoick shoved one of the chairs in frustration, sending it skidding a few feet away. "I'm not sure 'fighting her' is what I'd call it."

"I can do this," said Hiccup firmly. "You always told me it was a viking's greatest honor to fight for our island – this is my chance. Plus, if we end the raids, Berk won't even have a reason to fight dragons anymore! Think about it…maybe then someday I'd be able to come back here, without all of the hiding."

"I think ya should let 'im," agreed Gobber, looking serious. "It's th' boy's right to defend th' tribe – just as much as th' rest o' us." He paused, scratching his chin. "Though I don' know what we're supposed to do when our 'dragon' turns into a boy each night."

"I'll let you two figure that one out," said Hiccup, rising to his feet. "In the meantime, I should probably get back to the arena before dawn."

If there was any training in the arena that day, Hiccup slept through it all. The Night Fury's door remained undisturbed, allowing him time to catch up on some much-needed rest.

He awoke to the familiar burn of his bones rearranging, blinking the sleep from his eyes. He braced himself on his arms, climbing to his feet and beginning to collect the furs spread across the pen. It was quick work, and soon he'd stored them all behind the false wall Gobber had constructed.

The room suddenly looked so much more bare, once more showing its true nature as a cage.

Hiccup triggered the trick latch, pushing the door open and stepping into the night. He was careful to relatch it behind him, lest any passing vikings worry the dragon had escaped once more.

His father was waiting for him.

"Hey, dad," he said, trying to rein in his surprise. "Uh, what are you doing here? I thought we were meeting at the house?"

Stoick shook his head, adjusting the weight of a pack that was slung over his shoulder. "We held a town meeting today to discuss the queen theory," he said, "The tribe has agreed that we should test it. I tried to buy us some time, but they were very eager…it's been decided that we'll send the ships out in the morning."

"Oh."

It was much sooner than he'd expected, but he supposed it tracked. The vikings of Berk were never the sit and plan type, tending to gravitate more towards charging in blindly.

Stoick gave him a knowing smile, "boar-headed, the lot of them."

Hiccup agreed, shaking his head in fond exasperation. "So what does this mean for our plan?"

Stoick lifted the bag off his shoulder, setting it down heavily on the ground. The contents clanked, echoing throughout the ring.

"Either Gobber or I will be here just after dawn to collect you," said Stoick, crouching down to open the bag. "He's started building this contraption to keep you…secure on the boat, but he assured me he's building it in such a way that it looks stronger than it is. If you need to break free, you should be able to do so without too much trouble."

"Makes sense. What's in the bag?"

Stoick pulled out a large wooden shackle, framed by a series of bolts. A few lengths of chain ran from it, disappearing down into the bag. "This is the prototype," explained Stoick, gesturing towards it. "He wanted me to have you take a look at it, see if there's anything you want him to adjust for the final version."

Hiccup stepped forward, gripping the strange creation. "What's this piece for?"

"It's…meant to go around the neck."

Hiccup ignored his father's disapproving tone, surveying the work with new eyes. Now that he knew the purpose, it was easier to assess potential flaws. The metalwork on it made sense to him, easy to secure to any stationary object but flexible enough to allow movement.

Perhaps too much movement, if they were to be convincing.

"Tell him to build a platform, with hooks to secure the chains to," advised Hiccup. "I'll stand on it, and that will keep my range of movement limited. It'll make it easier to sell our story, and keep everyone else calm."

"Fine," agreed Stoick, "Anything else?"

Hiccup twisted the wooden piece, eyeing it critically. "Maybe we could line it with leather? No one else will see the inside when it's against my neck, but it must stop it from chafing against my scales."

Stoick looked more amenable to this request, promising he'd pass the suggestion on to Gobber.

"I'll be back at sunrise," said the chief before they parted. "I've got to go to make sure the preparations are running smoothly with the ships. I hate to say it, but maybe tonight…"

"I get it," said Hiccup, waving the man off. "I'll stay here tonight. Can't risk not making it back by dawn."

When the door swung open that morning, Hiccup was buzzing with pent-up energy. He scrambled to his feet, claws scratching against the stone floor as he steadied himself.

Stoick approached with a long length of rope in hand, saying, "I still don't like this plan. Too many things could go wrong."

Hiccup huffed, glad that in his current state he wouldn't have to argue with his father. He tried not to struggle as the man bound his wings, though the spike of panic was hard to ignore.

The chief held up the wooden ring so that Hiccup could see the padded, leather strip lining it. He nodded his approval, lowering his head so Stoick could more easily secure the piece.

Once that was done, the man retrieved a wide leather belt. "To bind your jaws," he explained apologetically. "The crew is worried about dragon fire on a wooden ship."

Hiccup huffed, allowing Stoick to tighten it around his head. His jaw twitched, pulling slightly on the binding. This, he decided, would be the worst part of it all.

The chains went on quickly, and soon they were on their way, the elder Haddock gripping chains and he led the Night Fury towards the docks.

Villagers eyed the pair as they passed, excitement clear as they beheld the sight of the captive dragon.

Once aboard the ship, Hiccup was led to a wooden platform, pleased to see that Gobber had understood exactly what he'd envisioned. He stumbled a bit under the weight of the chains, but managed to clamber aboard the platform. Moments later, he was tightly secured to its base.

Stoick regarded him with sad eyes, before turning to yell across the deck. "Miss Hofferson!"

A moment later, Astrid entered his line of vision. She snuck a glance at him, looking concerned at his predicament, before giving the chief her attention.

"I'm putting you in charge of the Night Fury while we sail," he said, loud enough that his voice carried across the deck, reaching all those aboard. "You are to keep it calm, and to alert us to any…issues, is that understood?"

"Yes, chief!" She agreed, hiding a smile. "I won't let you down."

"See to it that you don't," he said, stern voice not matching his softer eyes. "Gobber will relieve you before sundown. I don't want this dragon left alone at any time."

Hiccup would have smiled, if he could. His father had assured that he'd have someone he could trust at all hours aboard the ship.

"The rest of you lot," continued Stoick, raising his voice even louder. "I won't tolerate any man neglecting his post to gape at the Fury. We'll be sailing dangerous waters, and your only concern will be traversing those seas. The dragon is not yours to worry about – I'd better not hear that any of you are wasting time gawking at it…is that clear?"

There was a chorus of agreement across the deck.

Satisfied, the chief commanded they take their positions and make their way out of port.

The tribe had a general idea of where to start – ships had never returned from Helheim's gate, making it a clear suspect. With that in mind, the tribe set sail for the infamous destination.

For the first day, Hiccup felt nothing. No hum, no call, no hint of the queen's presence. It set his teeth on edge, worried that all this effort would be for nothing.

Astrid stayed close to his side, almost near enough to touch. She whispered to him throughout the day, filling him in on everything she overheard from the crew on the decks below. He appreciated the effort to keep him in the loop, wishing he could answer but being limited to only humming back.

As the sun grew low on the horizon, Stoick began dismissing the crew to their quarters for the night. Without the sun to navigate around the dangerous maze of sea stacks, they had decided to weigh anchor until morning.

Gobber was set to take night watch, and the crew – run ragged from their day at sea – accepted the arrangement without fuss.

Once he was certain that the deck had cleared, Gobber set to work removing Hiccup's bindings. He stacked them carefully to the side so they'd be easy to reapply in the morning.

Hiccup raised his wings above his head, relishing in the freedom of movement. They'd gone partially numb somewhere around midday, and the feeling had been bothering him for hours.

When the shift finally came, Hiccup felt the adrenaline of the day beginning to wear off. He yawned wide, gazing blearily around the deck.

"You should sleep, lad." said Gobber, handing him an apple. "I'll wake ya before sunrise."

The second day at sea, Hiccup felt it.

It started as a low buzzing in his ears, but as it began to build, he recognized the sensation. Grunting to get Astrid's attention, he flicked his ears insistently in the direction it was coming from.

Her eyes widened and she disappeared from sight, footfalls fading as she hurried to inform the chief. A few moments later, the two reentered his line of sight.

"Are you sure?" Asked Stoick, eyes carefully trained on Astrid as he spoke.

Hiccup growled in confirmation, flicking his ears once more in the direction of the call.

Seeing his agreement, Astrid pointed in the direction he'd given, "Yes, sir. We should head that way."

Stoick yelled directions to the crew, and the boat lurched slightly as it swiveled towards the new destination.

"Well done," said the chief, more quietly.

Hiccup's heart swelled with pride at the praise, happy to have proven himself useful to the tribe. He focused on the call, angling his head towards it as they sliced through the waves. Each time they veered off course, he made a noise to signal to Astrid, helping reorient their path.