How to Lose Your Entire Fleet In Five Minutes

by CompanionoftheDragonmark

Summary:

Two Hooligans take advantage of a beautiful early morning to check on the ships after a severe storm the evening before and then enjoy a nice morning relaxation and soaking in the sun (and enjoy some burgled morning snacks). What they did NOT expect was to have a massive green fireball blown from a certain Green Dragon come barrelling towards them and spoil their fun.

 

[HTTYD: Book 1] [One-Shot]

"The Dragon [Merciless/The Green Death] put his vast, cracked old paw to his reptilian lips and blew the Vikings a kiss. The kiss streaked through the sky and scored a direct hit on both Stoick and Mogadon's ships, which had survived the storm and were rocking in the safety of Hooligan Harbour. All fifty of them burst simultaneously into flames."

— Excerpt from "How to Train Your Dragon", Book 1, Page 140

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It was a moderately decent foggy morning on the shores of Berk.

 

Fifty ships dotted the Hooligan Harbor, bobbing gently up and down like a bunch of wooden ducks in the bathtub. During the Thor'sday Thursday festivities, crews moored and reinforced every ship safely in preparation for the major thunderstorm that came in the day—and night—before.

 

Two Hooligans, who had miraculously managed to awaken in the early morn despite having drank three barrels of honeyed mead the night before, left the Great Hall and waddled their barrel-like bodies down to check on the ships and inspect for any damage that they may have sustained.

 

You wouldn't have guessed just by looking at them, but Vikings, despite being wild partyers, were very, VERY serious when it came to their ships. To them, their ships were their very lives and their livelihoods. Without ships, they would literally have nothing, and be able to go nowhere.

 

So it wouldn't be unnatural for them to check on their ships even if they got there by sleep-rolling in wine barrels to the harbor.

 

After having fulfilled their obligatory duties, the two Hooligans—Barnacle and Mussel, two seasoned shipbuilders—grabbed two chairs and placed them on the deck of the Whining Walrus, before they laid back against them with hefty sighs of contentment, looking VERY much like a pair of walruses sunning themselves. Of course, being Vikings, they also couldn't help but shake off the cobwebs of their Burgling skills.

 

So, in the spirit of Thor'sday Thursday, they had burgled a very fine wineskin from the Great Meathead Chieftain Mogadon Himself (he was still dead asleep, drunkenly snuggling with an empty mead barrel, mistaking it to be his wife, who was also as thick and round as a barrel) that contained only the VERY BEST wine, which had been burgled from a vineyard property in the Southern country of Frankia, which is known for producing the best wine in the world (to hear them tell it).

 

They had also burgled some goblets made of gold and inlaid with emeralds (courtesy of Stoick the Vast, who had been sucking his thumb half-sleep after having been awake all night worrying about his beloved son's exile) to pour the wine into, as well as a wheel of strong cheese (again, burgled from the French) that paired nicely with the exquisiteness of the wine.

 

Grinning with smug self-congratulations, the pair poured wine into the two goblets, grabbed them and a wedge of cheese each, then clanged them together with a hearty "CHEERS!" and enjoyed a lovely—and QUIET—morning at Hooligan Harbor.

 

"AAaaaaah!" exhaled Barnacle, smacking his thick lips as he savored the 'liberated' wine and the cheese. "Well, ain't this the life, ain't it, Mussel, me ole chum!"

 

"Eeeyup!" Mussel chorused in a deep baritone voice as he took a huge bite out of his wedge of cheese with a big smile.

 

"It was very, VERY generous of His Meatyness to share his secret wine and cheese stash that was in his sea chest, wasn't it, Mussel?"

 

"Eeeyup!"

 

"And it was generous of the Chief (Stoick) to loan us his golden goblets studded with emeralds, wasn't it, Mussel?"

 

"Eeeyup!"

 

"We are blessed—aye, blessed we be, indeed!—to be sure, Mussel, m'lad!"

 

"Eeeyup!"

 

"A refreshing wind to our aft; the cries of seagulls as they feast on the leftovers of our festivities; the barking of walruses on rocky shoals outside the harbor. I declare that this probably is the best morning we've had in positively AGES, isn't that right, Mussel?"

 

"Eeeyup!"

 

"Oh, and there's a lovely green fireball coming right towards us and perfectly burning away the morning fog for the sun to come out, isn't that ni—wait, GREEN FIREBALL?!"

 

"Eeey—YIIIKES!"

 

The two Hooligans look on, their eyes popping out of their sockets and their mouths agape in horror, as a giant green fireball—a gift from the Green Death, who wanted to make sure that his Little Suppers didn't escape before he fully awakened—came hurdling towards them.

 

Barnacle shook like a leaf, falling off his chair as he started backing away, cheese and wine forgotten.

 

"A-A-A-ABA-ABANDON SHIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIP!"

 

"EEEEYUUUUUUUUUUUP!"

 

Barnacle and Mussel, in record time, jumped ship and swam for shore before the fireball hit them, fear fueling their momentum.

 

Five seconds later, destruction fell.

 

A massive wave of evil-green flames consumed the fifty-odd ships anchored in the harbor whole, burning like New Year bonfires—none went unscathed! The flames had a life of their own, licking and eating up their helpless prey and consuming them whole, as its Master always does with HIS suppers.

 

Such was the heat and fury of the emerald-green flames, the ships were already disintegrating and sinking within minutes!

 

All of this was witnessed by our unpluckable Heroes, Barnacle and Mussel, who had finally got to shore and watched the whole spectacle with great despair. To them, it was like the gods came down to cast judgment and pronounce the ending of the world.

 

Like seeing one's home burn in flames in front of them—along with all the memories, possessions, and heirlooms therein—the pair of Hooligans watched in stunned silence as their livelihood, their identity, their Freedom smoldered to broken husks and sank in the waves below.

 

"Mussel, me ole shipmate," Barnacle finally spoke after a long time had passed. "W-We should probably report this to the Chief, shouldn't we?"

 

"E-Eeeyup!"

 

"And, um... we probably shouldn't mention the wine, the cheeses, and the goblets, or how they disappeared and sank to the harbor floor... right?"

 

"That would be wise."

 

"Y-Yeah. Probably for the best."

 

It wouldn't be until long after the Hooligan and Meathead Young Warriors and their dragons had slain the Green Death, and long after Hiccup had awakened up from his injuries, that Stoick and Mogadon would notice their missing possessions, and then start pointing the blame at each other, which then brought about a massive fist-fight between the two Tribes.

 

But by then, Barnacle and Mussel had safely got away to occupy themselves with rebuilding the ships, with the help of their fellow shipbuilders—with having no-one been the wiser!

 

 

FINN

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Notes:

Well met, my fellow Dragonmarkers! Since today is Pearl Harbor Remembrance Day, I wanted to write a fic in honor of that. I thought about doing it with UG the Uglithug or Norbert the Nutjob, but the former has turned into another short story, and the latter I haven't read the 7th book in a long time, so I will wait until I get it from the library again.

As a result, I decided to go with a simple one-shot taken from a scene in "How to Train Your Dragon, Book 1". I thought it'd be funny and interesting concept to work with. Hope you guys enjoyed this fic! Please leave a kudos and a comment. Thank you for your support!

 

Long Live the Wilderwest!

 

— Companion of the Dragonmark

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 3 of HTTYD Books || One-Shots
• Part 1 of The Misadventures of Barnacle & Mussel: A Series