Chapter Text
-0-
Barbaric Archipelago, 867
“So, what do we do now?”
It’d been a week since Hiccup woke up from his fight with the Red Death on a small island with Astrid, Fishlegs, Snotlout, Ruffnut and Tuffnut. A week filled with pain, relearning how to walk, and using stolen supplies from nearby villages to build a small forge and leather station. He would need it to make improvements on his leg, Toothless’ tail fin and to make saddles for the others. After all, riding bareback on a scaly dragon with just a rope was not comfortable nor safe.
“We can’t go back,” Hiccup said simply. He wanted to finish the saddle, but Snotlout seemed adamant to have this conversation now, while all the teens were gathered in one place.
“Why not? We have dragons now, and the Queen dragon is dead!” Snotlout retorted.
“You think they’ll listen to us? To me? My own father wouldn’t listen!” Hiccup shot back, looking at Snotlout. “He called me a traitor to Vikings and disinherited me! If you all want to go back, be my guest…I’m not. I can’t.” He willed his eyes back to the saddle and tried to concentrate on his work.
“Hiccup, we can’t just…go back without you. You’re the chief’s son.” Fishlegs said, a little timidly.
“Yeah, and—I can’t believe I’m going to say this— but you’re the only person who knows how to train the dragons!” Hiccup wasn’t sure if Snotlout was angrier at his refusal to go back to Berk or at his admission Hiccup was good at something.
“Yeah, if you’re not coming back, how are the rest of us going to help Berk train dragons? Barf and Belch only know how to, well, blow stuff up.” Tuffnut spoke up as the twins entered the makeshift forge.
His sister followed up on that, “And as much fun as blowing stuff up is, it’s not for everyone. It’s an art, you know?”
Hiccup rubbed his face the moment he pulled the needle through the saddle, trying to get some of the frustrations out of his head.
As odd as the teenagers, apart from Astrid, idolizing him during Dragon Training, this felt even more weird. Why were they looking at him as if he was their leader? Why were so accepting of him all of a sudden? Why did they want him to go back to Berk, did they not hear him say own father disowned him?
He groaned and ran his fingers through his hair as the twins kept talking about the supposed art of explosions until he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around, he saw Astrid looking at him with sympathy. “You ok?” She inquired softly.
She was the reason they were all here. While Stoick readied the fleet, Astrid rallied the teens to break him and Toothless out of the Kill Ring, along with the other dragons, and after Hiccup gave them a crash course on dragon riding, he’d led them towards Dragon Island. It was her idea to break out the dragons, but it was his idea to fight the Queen. And while it cost him a leg, they won.
Hiccup wasn’t sure what he and Astrid were. She’d kissed him after the first flight on Toothless, and according to Fishlegs she never left his side while he was in a coma from the battle with the Red Death. The first thing he saw when he woke up after Toothless was Astrid sleeping in the chair next to his bed. She kissed him again after he woke her up, and now he wasn’t sure what they were. Neither of them seemed to want to be the one to start that conversation.
“I just…” He couldn’t go back. Not with Toothless. He couldn’t go back to face his father, even if he just killed the largest dragon they’d ever seen.
He didn’t want to be a Viking anymore. He wanted to be something different. Something more.
“It’s ok. No one’s forcing you to go back Hiccup,” she said softly, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady him, “We’re not forcing you to go back. Besides,” she turned to the others, “Hiccup’s right. We don’t have guarantees that Berk will accept the dragons. I’ve only known Stormfly for a little over a week, but I’m not willing to risk her neck to go back. Do you all want to risk your dragons? Snotlout, you want your father to butcher Hookfang? Or Fishlegs, how would you feel if they mounted Meatlug’s head on a spear? Ruff and Tuff, do you want Bark and Belch skinned and their hide sold at the markets?”
The others paled, looking at their dragons lounging on the ground near the smithy. It seemed none of them wanted that.
Astrid turned and nodded to Hiccup, and suddenly he felt more confident. With a deep breath, and Astrid’s presence a comfort to him, he turned back towards the other teens, “Listen, I know it’s tough to accept, but it’s dangerous to go back. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were labelled outlaws for breaking Toothless and the other dragons out of the Arena.”
He set the unfinished saddle to the side and let Astrid help him limp over closer towards the others, “I know you all miss your families, and I won’t stop you if you want to go back, but I’m not going back to Berk. Toothless…He saved my life, and I won’t repay him by leading him back to an island full of dragon fighting Vikings.”
The teens were silent for a while, and slowly Hiccup noticed they began to accept the fact that, if they were riding dragons, they would never be able to go home to Berk. Even Snotlout, the most adamant in return, seemed to accept this as he crossed his arms and huffed.
“We should stick together, at least.” Fishlegs offered, and everyone else seemed to agree with Fishlegs. “We all made the choice to…well, to ride dragons, we’ll stand a far better chance at survival if we stay together.”
“Agreed.” They all said.
“So, what now?” Astrid asked, looking at Hiccup. He felt the eyes of the other teens on him, once again making him feel like he was their leader.
A few months ago, he would’ve been ecstatic at just being friends with them, but getting kissed by Astrid Hofferson twice and seen as the leader of the people who’d teased him for not being Viking enough?
Hiccup’s head spun from the whiplash of it all.
“First,” he started, “you all will need actual saddles, and I’ll need to build Toothless another tail fin. That’ll take some time, and we may need to keep stealing some small supplies here and there. We can assume Berk will have sent out messengers about our betrayal and started searching for us, but that’ll take a while for word to get around the Archipelago. By that time, we should be long gone.”
“Wait, long gone?” Fishlegs asked nervously.
“Yeah, long gone where?” Ruffnut followed up.
Hiccup grinned. He had this plan originally when he and Toothless were about to run away, right before Astrid found them. “We need to disappear. Off the map. Outside the Archipelago, where no Viking could find us. We’ll be on our own, but we’ll have the dragons, and we can go anywhere we want.”
Slowly, he saw smiles begin to form on the faces of the other teens. Hiccup began imagining all the places they’d go; all the places he’d from the stories of Trader Johann. Uppsala, Konugard, or even Miklagard, that massive city at the edge of the world. They could fly over the vast plains of the steppes in the East or fly far to the West, where it was said the world ended. They could fly to the icy, frozen Far North or the sweeping, blazing dunes of the Far South. They could experience the entire world, all the different dragons and other creatures in Midgard.
On the backs of dragons, the whole world is at our fingertips.
Astrid was the first to recover from the daydreaming, removing her hand from his shoulder and giving him a small punch on the arm. “What’s our next move?”
-0-
Holmgård, 5 years later
Astrid hated her boyfriend.
Well, hate was too a strong word, she loved Hiccup, but she disliked how he could be a pushover if pressured enough. Even if it did occasionally mean Astrid got her way. But she hated when he was a pushover for other people and when they got their way. Like when Snotlout complained about having to babysit the twins yet again on a mission, and Hiccup caved and asked Astrid to take his place.
Maybe Snotlout had a point last year when he said Hiccup didn’t really have a backbone?
She mentally made a reminder to help Hiccup stand up more for himself as she eyed Ruffnut at the bar of the tavern, flirting with an unusually receptive barkeep.
Whether it was part of her cover or if she genuinely thought the barkeep was attractive? Who’s to say.
“You know, with you here instead of Snotlout, our odds of pulling off this half of the mission increased dramatically! By thirty percent!”
“What does that bring our mission success chance to now, Fishlegs?” She pulled the furs tighter around herself as the door opened and more patrons made their way inside, letting in the frigid air from outside.
“Seventy percent,” he withered a little under Astrid’s glare, “It’s…mostly the Twins. Their history of unpredictable behavior makes it harder to factor.”
“I’ll say. Remember Dyflin?”
“I wish I didn’t.” They both shivered at that memory, before Astrid glanced at the door. Where was Tuffnut?
At that moment Tuffnut chose to make his entrance, sporting a false beard and hauling a large crate behind him while calling the barkeep in the Slavic language he somehow knew.
Astrid suppressed a groan, but at least the eyes of the other Dragon Hunters were drawn off their comrade and towards the odd-looking man with a large crate. Maybe Tuff’s distraction could work?
The messenger, however, kept his hand on the bag.
Astrid sighed, “Alright, be ready to –”
Tuffnut, however, was just getting started. “Behold, your grand prize!” Loud squeals erupted as Tuffnut opened the crate and let loose what appeared to be three large, greased boars in the bar, yelling something about an indoor boar pit.
Cries rose up as the patrons and Dragon Hunters tried to avoid getting hit and a few attempted to restrain the boars, but to no avail. The boars crashed and knocked over tables, people, smashed chairs and wrought havoc throughout the room.
“Looks like our odds went up dramatically,” Fishlegs noted as Tuffnut ran out of the tavern, whooping and hollering.
“He does know how to draw a crowd.” In the commotion, Astrid lost track of Ruffnut and the messenger, but she was confident Ruffnut could pull off a simple swap. They’d all improved a lot since their first days leaving Berk after defeating the Red Death.
She and Fishlegs left the tavern as the commotion died down, with the twins nowhere in sight. The two of them walked towards their designated meeting spot, taking several detours and walking in circles to make sure they weren’t followed. Once she was confident they had no tails, she and Fishlegs entered the small, abandoned hut on the outskirts of the trading town.
As planned, Ruffnut and Tuffnut were sitting there, wearing grins so wide you could sail a ship through them.
“My genius strikes again! Ha! Take that, Snotlout!” Tuffnut pumped his fist into the air while Ruffnut presented the messenger’s satchel to Astrid.
“The prize, Ms. Hofferson.” Ruffnut completed a small bow as she handed it to Astrid, who was grinning against her better judgement. Surely everything couldn’t have gone right this time, right?
Astrid opened the bag and saw that, in fact, things didn’t go right.
They’d come to Holmgård for two things: to free dragons, and for the message Krogan was relaying to his master, of whom they knew nothing about.
And said message was not in the messenger’s satchel. Nothing was.
“Uhh, Ruffnut? You didn’t take anything out of here to play a trick on me, did you?” Astrid tried to sound neutral, but her teeth were gritted at the growing anxiety welling in her stomach.
“No, why?” Ruffnut took the bag back and looked inside, “Oh. Uhh…This was the satchel, I swear!” All the lightheartedness and excitement of success in the room gave way to something else.
“They’re walking into a trap!” Astrid ran out the door, with the other three close behind, and ran towards the main square, where the market was sure to be.
“Aren’t we going to get the dragons?” Tuffnut yelled from the back.
“There’s no time! And considering they were smart enough to get us to split up, we should assume they have a plan for the dragons too!” Astrid called over her shoulder. “We’re going to need a new plan! Ruff, Tuff! Do either of you have any Zippleback gas canisters on you?!”
-0-
They’d been all around the known world, and even some parts of the world they never knew existed.
They’d gone to the Far North first before turning west into unexplored lands and encountering dragons they’d never seen before. They came back to explore the lands of other Viking kingdoms before they turned south, eventually laying eyes on the great searing desert at the edge of civilization before turning east and flying along the coast, eventually seeing the great city at the edge of the world Johann talked about, Miklagard. They’d seen more than that, though, like the giant stone pyramids in a country called Misr, or the great circular city of an empire called ʿAbbāsiyya. Then they’d flown beyond that empire, what the Rus Vikings called Serkland, and the world became strange and even more fascinating.
They kept flying, meeting strange and fascinating new people, creatures, and dragons, learning more and more about the world they never thought existed. They tried new foods, traded for exotic goods and participated in colorful, elaborate ceremonies with locals. It had been over three years since they’d left Berk when they reached a region called Himavat, according to the locals. The mountains there were so high, they couldn’t fly over them, so they flew between them, through the valleys where the dragons were strange and serpent-like. They flew so gracefully, it looked like they were swimming in water, and the fire they breathed could change colors. The dragons were fewer there, and much, much older, given the coloring of the scales, but seemed much more friendly. They were curious about these dragons from the far side of the world, and it seemed these eastern dragons were intelligent enough to understand how far they came from.
They’d flown north after that, hearing of the great empire that ruled over the vast lands and the benevolent dragons that inhabited the mountains of the land called Qin, and while Hiccup wanted to explore further, their linguistic skills were failing them. He and Fishlegs could speak passable languages in Miklagard and the kingdoms and empire near it, but not this far east. Everything was different, and as exciting as that was, they could hardly communicate, an issue that’d been rampant since they left Serkland. So, once they found a reliable map of where they were, they decided to fly back through the steppes, towards where they knew Vikings, or at least where traders with a tongue they spoke passably would be.
They’d seen more of the world than a thousand people would see in a thousand lifetimes. They’d seen dragons which defied description, dragons so far different from their own they wondered if they were ever related. They’d encountered creatures from myths and legends, like trolls and mermaids. They’d seen dead Vikings rise as draugr in an Uppsala treasure hoard, tried to tame wyverns in the Englisc kingdoms, fought a cuélebre to save a town in Iberia, almost drowned by mermaids near Miklagard and, in Serkland, encountered a huma, beautiful birds that spent their entire life in the sky.
They’d seen even more out further East, dragons, wonders and creatures beyond imagination, and Hiccup never wanted it to end.
Unfortunately, all good things came to an end.
Resting among the nomads of the steppes during their trip back west from the Far East, they’d heard stories of a well-renowned warlord who disappeared, along with his whole army, after receiving a letter from the north. The dragons in this region were still serpent-like, friendly and very powerful, they’d surmised, and this warlord lost his family to them over some affront to the dragons. He’d slain them and used their hides to raise an army of his own. The man who told them this was not a Viking, but he’d interacted with some near a great wall of mountains, where he said many people who spoke their tongue were also gathering.
As the riders moved further west, they came into contact more with people hostile to dragons. When they arrived in the lands of Khazars and Slavs, they heard more talk of a great army gathering further north, where Vikings, Slavs, Finns, Sámi, Turks, and others were assembling. No one knew what it was for though.
But they did say these people were hiring dragon hunters. Lots of dragon hunters.
So, the gang decided on a new mission. Rather than travel, they’d stay a while. Four years on the road was hard living, and this would be a chance to help free dragons and disrupt what sounded like a cruel warlord. Disrupt the dragon trapping in the north, take down the hunters, find this warlord and take him down.
They’d been at it for almost a year at this point, and while they were putting a significant dent in the dragon market and taking out dragon hunters, they were no closer to finding the leader building this massive army. At least, until a tip from Johann, who they never expected to see again, led them to the center of Prince Rurik’s domain.
It’s not much, this town, Hiccup thought to himself as he shuffled his way along the streets to the market. He, Snotlout and Heather were the ones whose job would be to free the dragons in the main market, and so they bundled themselves in furs and suffered this snow-filled, wind-filled, biting cold they hadn’t experienced since they were in Berk.
Toothless was back at the cove, and the cloud cover meant Windshear and Hookfang would be able to fly overhead without giving themselves away. There were only a few guards at the entrance, and no long-range weapons. No ballistae or catapults. It was perfect. Almost too perfect.
“Why couldn’t we be the ones to go inside the tavern? Why did it have to be us in the freezing cold?” Snotlout whimpered as he braced himself against a small gust of wind, bringing with it a few more flurries that were falling steadily from the sky.
“You had your chance, Snot,” Hiccup chuckled, although he wished he was also inside a tavern right now, enjoying mead and a warm hearth. “You said, and I quote, ‘If I have to babysit those twins yet again, I’m going to kill them.’”
“You did say that Snotlout,” Heather chuckled through her fur hood. She’d only been with the group for a few months, but in that time she’d bonded with an injured Razorwhip from one of Viggo’s traps and joined their group as a fully-fledged Dragon Rider. “This is all on you.”
“Whatever, let’s just get to this market and stop the auction.” Snotlout grumbled.
They reached the market and casually browsed while waiting for the auction to begin, more than once having to remind Snotlout to speak in the Slavic language, not Norse, and that they were on a mission, not to shop.
Finally, a bell sounded, and a man walked up the dais to announce the start of the auction, signaling to the two large, covered cages behind him. There were very few guards, so they were going to follow the usual plan: bust up the guards, unlatch the cages, free the dragons and disappear into the crowd.
Except Hiccup should’ve known better earlier when things were going too well, because the moment the auctioneer stopped speaking, they were surrounded by armed Dragon Hunters, the roofs were lined with archers, and the cages uncovered to reveal two Netslingers, the specialized ballista used by Dragon Hunters to net dragons.
It was a setup, and he was entirely sure Johann was in league with the Hunters.
Snotlout and Heather were quick to use hand signals to prevent their dragons from landing and getting caught, but that also meant they were on their own. “Well, this is just great. I hope you have a plan for getting us out of this, Hiccup!” Snotlout murmured to Hiccup as they were restrained and led to the dais, on display for all the people in the market to see.
“I’m working on it, Snotlout!” Hiccup retorted, although he wasn’t sure how they were getting out of this one. He hoped Astrid and the others were ok.
“Well, well, my dear boy, it seems we meet again,” a familiar voice rang out behind him, and Hiccup groaned as the owner of said voice walked onto the dais and stood in front of the three kneeling Dragon Riders.
“Viggo! You know, it’s been a minute since we’ve caught up. Did you change your hair?” Hiccup pointedly gestured with his eyes towards Viggo’s facial burns, a souvenir of a previous encounter following Ryker's death.
Viggo, however, didn’t falter and just laughed. “I’ve missed our quips together, Hiccup. Truly. But, while I would like nothing more than to catch up over a game of Maces and Talons, I’m afraid I don’t have enough time.” He signaled to the auctioneer, who began speaking rapidly in Slavic and taking bids from the crowd.
“Really? Thralls? You’re selling us as thralls?” Snotlout exclaimed.
“My dear Snotlout, no! I’m wounded you think so! No, not at all! You see, they’re bidding for your possessions, after…well, you know…” Viggo pulled his sword out, holding to Hiccup’s neck first. “While I appreciated our little game for the last year or so, Hiccup, I’m afraid it must end here. Tell me, do you have any family I should send your head to?”
Not once on their travels did any of the riders reveal their family names, not even to Heather. It was safer that way, both for them and for their families in Berk. And Hiccup wasn’t going to give them up now.
“Orphan,” Hiccup replied. “Although, if you give me a few minutes, I’m sure I can think of the name of the town. Maybe you can send it there?”
Viggo laughed, but it wasn’t at Hiccup’s failed attempt to stall. It was the laugh that meant he knew something they didn’t, and it set Hiccup on edge. “You know, a few months ago, I would’ve believed you. Unfortunately…” Viggo gestured to Johann, who was standing off to the side, arms crossed and looking utterly triumphant, “Johann told me an interesting story. You see, it involves the heir of the chiefdom of Berk, who ran off with some of his comrades astride dragons. Apparently, the island kept it a secret for years until one of them got too inebriated. Quite interesting isn’t it? But you know what is the most interesting thing? That heir’s name was also Hiccup. And one of his friends? Snotlout. Can you see where this is going?” Viggo had never worn as triumphant a look as he was wearing now.
“I told you we should’ve picked different names!” Snotlout yelled, and Heather attempted to kick him for it.
“Is now really the time, Snotlout?!”
“Heather, it’s the only time to complain! We’re about to die!”
“Shut it, Snotlout!” Think Hiccup, think. His mind was racing, and the blade pressed against his throat didn’t help much for his thoughts.
Johann moved forward, “While I may not have enjoyed your antics as much as Viggo, Hiccup Haddock, what I can say is this. I will enjoy returning to that wretched island for the sole purpose of burning it, and everyone else in it, to ashes. All traces of civilization will be removed from Berk. All because you and your Dragon Riders just couldn’t leave well enough alone.”
His breath was caught in his throat, and for once, Hiccup couldn’t think of a retort. He needed to get them out of here, and as much as it sickened him, they needed to get home. Back to Berk.
As Viggo reared the sword back, Hiccup kept his eyes open, searching and hoping for anything to get them out of this bind. Snotlout and Heather couldn’t call their dragons, and even if they could, he wasn’t sure they would because the Netslingers would shoot them out of the sky at this range. He was running out of options, and in his desperation, he brought his prosthetic up into Viggo’s stomach, which the man shrugged off, this time ordering the men to put Hiccup on his knees. They forced his head down and exposed the back of his neck.
“HICCUP!” His girlfriend’s voice was a gift from Odin, and the Hunters grip on his arms and head loosened up enough for him to get free. Thinking quickly, he shoved them off and pulled out Inferno, blocking Viggo’s strike. He sprayed Zippleback gas in the man’s face and set off a small explosion to push Viggo away. Heather and Snotlout were free, too, and Heather unsheathed her axe while Snotlout lit up his flaming hammer he’d dubbed Shieldbreaker.
He caught sight of Fishlegs driving a large cart, scared out of his mind of the horses veering into the crowd, while Astrid aimed a bow with one of their black powder arrows from the far East. She let it fly right over the dais and one of the Netslingers, quickly nocking another arrow and taking out the last Netslinger.
As the cart skidded to a stop, the twins jumped out, hurling Zippleback gas canisters at the Hunters around Hiccup, Snotlout and Heather. Catching on, they quickly jumped off the platform and ran towards the cart, dodging the arrows from the roofs as they ran.
“This is totally awesome!” Tuffnut shouted as the three leapt into the cart, “I’m so happy Astrid babysat us instead of Snotlout!”
“Shut it you two!” Snotlout sneered as he deflected a Hunter arrow from hitting him.
The twins hopped in and Fishlegs urged the horses on, shouting for people to get out of the way as the cart sped down the narrow street. Before they got too far away, Astrid shot a flaming arrow at the largest concentration of gas in the square, and the resulting explosion probably took a few Hunters to Valhalla as well as setting most of the buildings on fire.
It wasn’t great, but at least they’d survived.
“Cutting it a little close, huh, milady?” Hiccup chuckled to Astrid, who laughed and unsheathed her axe.
“I just like to keep you on your toes, babe,” she said, giving him a little kiss as she pressed a button to extend the double blade on her axe. He’d built it himself and made it like his sword, in that the blades could retract and fold back into the shaft. He watched with a little bit of pride as she ignited the axe and fought off a rider from the Hunters, kicking him off the horse.
Hiccup took up the opposite side, crossing his flaming blade with any warrior who got close while the rest of the dragon riders did the same at the rear of the cart.
Eventually, they got to a clearing outside Holmgård, and they all whistled for their dragons as the number of horseback steppe warriors increased and got closer. The horseback archers were starting to make it hard to prevent warriors from jumping onto the cart, and eventually one of them hacked the ropes holding their horses, and as the horses ran off, the cart slowed to a stop.
“This better not be how I die!” Snotlout yelled as he fought off another warrior who got too close, trying to use him as a shield to block arrows from the archers.
“Has he just been complaining the whole time?” Ruffnut asked as she and Tuffnut kicked a man off the wagon.
“Yes, he has!” Heather grunted, dispatching a warrior on her own.
“I thought he just did that with us! Sister Nut, I do think Snotlout is just a complainer!”
“You think?! We’ve known this!” Hiccup gasped, focusing on fighting off the man in front of him who had an axe and shield.
They were surrounded, outnumbered, and the arrows were getting more and more accurate. For the second time that day, Hiccup wondered if the end was coming, but it seemed Thor wasn’t tired of them yet as a screeching sound pierced the air.
The dragons dove out of the overcast clouds, all except Toothless, who leapt from the hill and glided down, shooting plasma blasts at the riders and their horses. The other dragons let loose their flames and everything they had, even grabbing a few horsemen in the claws before tossing them into the snow.
As soon as the horsemen started regrouping, it was too late. They were all on their dragons, climbing higher and higher to get past the clouds and out of range of the arrows, whooping and urging their dragons on.
Once the clouds were below them, the relief was palpable in the crisp, cold sky. “That was close.” Fishlegs finally admitted.
“Too close,” Hiccup agreed, “This one’s on me, gang. I should’ve known this was too good—”
“Well, now you know. Learn from it, Hiccup,” Astrid tapped Stormfly and the two of them rolled above Hiccup and Toothless. She gave him a quick kiss as they passed over the top of the boys, and Hiccup felt a little tension dissipating at the contact. “You couldn’t have seen Johann coming, Hiccup. We should be more careful, though.”
“I agree. Korgan and Viggo are getting more desperate the more dragons we take from them. They’re running out of men too.”
“Well, they probably lost a few more today.” Astrid smirked, and Hiccup found himself returning the gesture.
He mouthed Thank you to her before turning to address the group, “On the bright side, today wasn’t a total loss!”
“Wasn’t? How? We got trapped, didn’t free any dragons, and we almost died! How is this not a total loss?” Snotlout exclaimed.
“For once, I agree with him, Hiccup. How is this not a total loss?”
“Wow, an Ingerman agreeing with a Jorgenson?” Heather laughed at the stricken faces of everyone except Snotlout and Hiccup.
“How did you—” Fishlegs was too stunned to continue, so Hiccup decided it would be best to break the news now.
“We may know where Johann, Krogan and Viggo are going to strike next.”