Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hiccup curled up in his bed, huddling under his fur in an attempt to get warm. As he lay there and did his best to ignore the gnawing hunger in his belly, he tried to figure out why it was that everyone hated him so much. Well, maybe not everyone, he corrected himself…just most everyone.

It all started at home. He didn’t have a mom and his dad was always busy. The only time his father even spared him a glance was when he pulled him out of bed every morning and dragged him to his Uncle Spitelout’s, where he left him for the day. Hiccup would rather stay home, but when he tried to ask his dad if he could, he was quickly shut down.

Things weren’t any better at his uncle’s house, though it hadn’t been so bad when his Aunt Solvig had been alive. She always included him in her chores and made sure he had food to eat, even if his uncle insisted his portions were smaller than his cousin’s. Something to do with the fact that he was a hiccup, so he didn’t need as much, whatever that meant. But his aunt had died in a raid a month ago, and poor little Hiccup’s life had gotten much worse.

His dad still dropped Hiccup off at his uncle’s every day, but Uncle Spitelout wouldn’t feed him, as ‘he could eat at home.’ When he tried to protest, it hadn’t ended well, his uncle backhanding him so hard he flew across the room. Even worse, his Uncle Spitelout declared that since he was six years old now, he needed to get out and train with the other kids. So, every morning, he was dropped off at his uncle’s, only to be booted outside once his father left, and his uncle was not normally gentle about it either.

Hiccup’s dad never gave him a chance to eat before shuffling him out the door in the morning, so every day he was left hungry and standing in the cold. Sometimes, he could manage to sneak into the Great Hall and grab a bite to eat, but most of the time, he wouldn’t make it far before some villager or another shooed him back outside, into the lovely subarctic Berk weather.

He would have just headed back home, but it wouldn’t have made much difference as there was never a lot of food there, seeing as his dad generally ate at the Great Hall, and what little food was there, he needed to save for his ‘dinner,’ if you could even call it that.

So, he spent most of his days with an empty stomach, creeping around the village and trying to stay out of the way of the much larger Vikings, as well as the other youths his age who would all too happily knock him to the ground, taking delight in showing their superiority over him. Of course, not all the other children were mean. It was mostly Snotlout and Tuffnut who did the bulk of the damage. Fishlegs tended to follow them but didn’t normally participate in Hiccup’s humiliation and Astrid kept to herself, already focused on her training at such a young age. Ruffnut, though… Ruffnut confused him. She did whatever her twin did, but not with the same ill intent. And whenever she was part of the group to corner him, she would egg them on, but never personally got involved. Plus, as they were leaving, she always managed to sneakily drop something in his lap, whether it was a crust of bread or a tiny tin of salve or some bandages. While Hiccup never looked forward to these encounters as a whole, he was always curious to see what Ruff would manage to leave him and it made his day not so miserable.

Maybe tomorrow wouldn’t be so bad, he thought hopefully. Perhaps he could finally work up the courage to approach the forge and see if Gobber would let him stay there for the day. The blacksmith had always been nice to him and at least this way he would be warm. With that thought in mind, little Hiccup drifted off to sleep.

-o0o-

Gobber was hard at work when he caught sight of a small mop of auburn hair peeking over the counter of the forge. “Why ‘ello there, Hiccup,” he called out as he made his way over. Leaning over the counter and smiling at the little boy, he asked, “What can I help ye with, lad?”

Hiccup fiddled with his fingers his gaze darting every which way as he mumbled, “I- I was wondering if- if…maybe…I could spend the day with you?”

By the time the lad finished speaking, his voice was so quiet that Gobber barely heard him. He didn’t mind the boy keeping him company, but there was one thing he needed to find out first. “Aren’t ye supposed to be at yer uncle’s?”

“He doesn’t let me stay long,” Hiccup revealed, eyes down as he pushed some snow about with his boot. “Just until Dad leaves.”

That did not sound right and Gobber wondered if Stoick was aware that this was going on. It didn’t matter right now, though, as Hiccup needed a place to spend the day and Gobber wasn’t about to turn the lad away. Hoping to lift the little boy’s spirits, he grinned and cheerfully said, “Well, that’s his loss, then. Come on in.” He waved Hiccup over, glad to see a slight smile appear on the lad’s face. “Let’s see…if I move this here, and that there…” One day he would get things organized, but for now, this would do. “Here we go. Now you have a place to sit,” he proclaimed, scooping the lad up and setting him on a cleared portion of the counter.

“Thanks, Gobber,” Hiccup smiled up at him. “It’s so nice and warm in here.”

At that comment, Gobber realized something. “Where’s yer coat, lad? Ye shouldn’t be out in this weather without it.” Hiccup mumbled something, but it was too quiet for him to make it out. “What was that?”

“It got torn,” Hiccup confessed, speaking a little louder this time, but clearly embarrassed.

“Did ye tell yer dad,” he inquired. “I’m sure he’d get ye a new one”

“No, it’s fine, Gobber,” the boy protested, a hint of fear lingering in the back of his eyes. “I’m tough. I can handle it.”

He eyed the lad suspiciously, but he decided to drop the subject for now. “Alright, Hiccup. If ye say so.” Didn’t mean he wouldn’t be talking with Stoick about this later, but the lad didn’t need to know that. Gobber picked up the sword he had been working on but before he got far, Hiccup spoke up.

“What are you doing?”

He could see the curiosity on the boy’s face and held up the sword. “This?”

Hiccup nodded eagerly.

“This here is Ack’s sword,” the blacksmith shared. “He made a mess of it, dinna he?”

Hiccup’s eyes widened as he nodded again. “Are you gonna fix it?”

“That I am,” Gobber answered.

“How?”

“Well, ye, see…” Gobber went on to explain each step as he worked, noting that Hiccup was absolutely fascinated by everything that he said. Perhaps he could teach the boy a thing or two about smithing, though he would need to run that idea by Stoick first. Just one more thing to add to that growing list.

Gobber was about to reach for the next weapon when he heard Hiccup’s stomach growl. “I wonder what that coulda been,” he remarked lightly, turning to see that Hiccup was avoiding his gaze.

“Nothing,” the little boy said quietly.

Gobber couldn’t understand why Hiccup was so embarrassed. “It is getting about time for lunch, isn’t it? How about the two of us head up to the Great Hall and-” He broke off though when Hiccup started shaking his head frantically.

“No, that’s okay,” he replied, jumping off the counter. “I- I better get going. Thanks for letting me stay here for a bit.”

Gobber watched in confusion as the lad scampered off. Something was not right here and he was determined to find out what it was.

Chapter Text

“Stoick!” Gobber greeted his friend cordially as he sat next to him in the Great Hall that evening.

“Gobber! Good to see you,” Stoick responded. “Been keeping busy at the forge?”

“As always,” he replied, grabbing a leg of mutton. “Yer boy make it home alright?”

“I’m sure he did,” Stoick replied nonchalantly.

Gobber froze with his food halfway to his mouth. “Ye didn’t check on him?”

“He’s old enough to see himself to bed,” Stoick said, waving off his concern.

“And take care of himself all day,” Gobber asked skeptically.

“Of course not,” Stoick remarked. “That’s why I leave him at Spitelout’s.”

“Ye might want to check on that,” Gobber grumbled, his mouth half full.

At least that seemed to catch Stoick’s attention. “What do you mean?”

“Hiccup came by the forge today,” Gobber shared. “He seemed at loose ends, nowhere to go.”

“Bah, that doesn’t make sense,” his friend commented dismissively. “He must have snuck out. I’m telling you, that boy-”

Gobber did not have the patience to listen to Stoick’s complaints right now, cutting in and saying, “From the way he talked, it was more like he was kicked out.”

“The boy tends to exaggerate,” Stoick said knowingly before turning back to his meal.

“Really,” Gobber exclaimed incredulously. “Because getting him to talk was like pulling teeth.” He took a savage bite of his meat, shocked at his friend’s attitude toward his only son. How had he not seen this before? Or had he just missed it somehow? Regardless, there was one more matter they needed to discuss. “By the way, he needs a new coat.”

“Whatever for,” Stoick demanded. “I just got him a new one last week.”

“He wasn’t wearing one,” Gobber explained. “Said his got torn, but I think there was more to it than that.”

Stoick shook his head. “That boy makes a mess of everything he touches,” he complained. “I’ll have to have a talk with him.”

For some reason, Gobber had a strange feeling that he had made things worse, even though that was not his intention. He decided to wait to ask Stoick about Hiccup learning some smithing skills as his friend’s mood had taken a turn. No need to doom the request when he could just wait until tomorrow. He hurried to finish his meal so he could head home, not liking the uneasy silence that had settled between him and Stoick. He hadn’t meant to butt in where he didn’t belong, but Hiccup clearly needed help and he wasn’t about to just sit back and do nothing.

His good intentions held through the night and the following morning he packed some food to take with him to the forge with the goal to share a meal with Hiccup. While the lad had been embarrassed by his growling stomach, it wasn’t until the Great Hall was mentioned that he truly panicked, though what had caused that reaction, Gobber had no idea. Hopefully, this would be an acceptable compromise, and once the lad was a bit more comfortable, he could get him to open up a smidge.

As he was heading across the plaza, Gobber caught sight of a scuffle in between two of the houses and went over to investigate. Arriving upon the scene, he was less than pleased by what he discovered.

“Oi! Clear out, ye lot,” he yelled, startling some of the children. Fishlegs scuttled away, while Snotlout ignored Gobber, continuing to kick his cousin.

“We were just playing a game,” Tuffnut declared with a mask of innocence that Gobber wasn’t buying.

“It dinna seem like a fair one,” he observed harshly, using his prosthetic hook to snag Snotlout’s vest and pull him away from Hiccup who was curled up on the ground. As Gobber began to scold Snotlout and Tuffnut, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ruffnut scoot closer to Hiccup. He was prepared to cut his scolding off and pull her away, too, when he saw her shoot Hiccup a brief smile before scampering off, her brother and Snotlout soon following her.

With the wayward youth dispatched, Gobber turned his attention to Hiccup, noticing him fingering a small roll of bandages. He knelt down to the boy’s level and took in his bedraggled shape. “Hiccup, are ye alright?”

“I’m fine,” the lad mumbled, refusing to meet Gobber’s eyes.

The pieces were beginning to fall into place, resulting in Gobber asking, “Is this how your coat got torn?”

Hiccup sniffed and nodded, his gaze still on his lap.

Seeing that he wasn’t about to get more out of the boy, Gobber scooped him up, cradling him in his good arm. “Come on, let’s get you to Gothi’s.”

The lad began to squirm, declaring, “No, Gobber! It’s okay. I’m fine! Really.”

“Hiccup, yer head is bleeding, and yer cradling yer arm,” he pointed out. “Yer not getting out of this.” At that declaration, the boy slumped in his arm, resignedly accepting his defeat.

The walk to Gothi’s was made in silence, though Gobber could see that Hiccup was trying to hold back his tears. The poor boy must be in a lot more pain than he was letting on.

Reaching the healer’s hut, Gobber knocked on the door. It took a minute or so, but eventually Gothi opened up, her eyes going wide in shock when she saw the child in Gobber’s arm. “Caught the other kids roughin’ him up,” Gobber explained. “Can ye take a look at him?”

Gothi nodded and ushered them inside, gesturing for Gobber to set Hiccup down on the table before she shooed him out. The blacksmith lingered on the landing, waiting to see how badly the lad was injured, but what he was not expecting was for Gothi to come out and ask him what was going on. Was the old bat going senile? “I told ye-”

The healer whacked him soundly with her staff, cutting him off, before starting to scribble, “Not that. Hiccup is covered in bruises, some of them too old to have just happened. He is also malnourished.”

Gobber could feel the grim expression settle on his face. After yesterday, he had a feeling that things were bad, but he hadn’t quite expected this. “I’ll speak with Stoick,” he volunteered, wanting some answers himself. “The lad can come back with me to the forge,” he offered. “I can keep an eye on him.”

Gothi shook her head and began writing in the sand once more. “I’ll keep him here overnight,” she said. “I think it’ll be for the best.”

Gobber nodded slowly, feeling she was right. “Is there anything you want me to explain to him before I leave?”

The healer drew a few more runes before looking up at Gobber to make sure he understood. He did and followed Gothi back into her hut, finding Hiccup sitting on the spare bed in an oversized shirt. Coming to sit beside the boy, he told him, “Hiccup, yer gonna stay here with Gothi until tomorrow.”

The little boy’s eyes widened fearfully. “Am I hurt that bad?”

“No, lad,” Gobber said softly, lightly ruffling Hiccup’s hair. “She just wants to keep an eye on ye, is all. Be careful with your arm, though,” he warned. “It’s not broken, but Gothi has to treat it like it is, okay?”

“Okay,” he replied in a small voice.

“That’s a good lad,” Gobber praised him. “Maybe I can come back up tonight and we can play a game. How does that sound?”

Hiccup shot a quick glance at Gothi, who Gobber noticed was smiling at them benevolently, before responding, “I’d like that.”

“Alright, then,” he proclaimed, hauling himself to his feet…well, foot. “I guess I better get to work so I can finish in time. I’ll see ye tonight, Hiccup.” He waved to the boy as he walked out the door, his cheerful demeanor disappearing as soon as it shut behind him.

He stomped down the stairs and into the village, scouring the area for any signs of the Chief. He finally found him down at the docks, directing the unloading of the fishing vessels.

“Stoick! I need to talk to ye,” he hollered.

“Can it wait, Gobber,” he asked, his exasperation more than apparent. “I’m kind of busy right now.”

“No, it cannot,” Gobber declared, hobbling to his side.

Stoick sighed long-sufferingly. “Alright, what is it?”

“It’s about yer son.”

The Chief pinched the bridge of his nose. “What has Hiccup done now?”

Gobber huffed at Stoick’s assumption, explaining. “I caught some of the other kids roughin’ him up and had to take him to Gothi.”

“I’m sure that wasn’t necessary,” Stoick remarked. “The boy needs to toughen up if he’s ever going to survive.”

“Stoick, they almost broke his arm,” he shouted. “But it’s more than that," he revealed, trying to get his temper under control. "When Gothi examined the lad he was covered in bruises.”

His friend waved his hand dismissively. “Hiccup’s incredibly clumsy, always tripping over his own feet-”

“They weren’t those kinds of bruises,” Gobber hissed, glaring at Stoick. “She also said he’s malnourished.”

Stoick shrugged as if that wasn’t news to him. “The boy has never been a big eater, Gobber. You’ve seen how tiny he is.”

“Are ye even listening to yerself, Stoick,” he raged. “This is yer son we’re talking about!”

“And if he can’t survive now, then he’s never going to make it as an adult,” Stoick stated harshly. “It’s a tough world, Gobber. It’s time he learned it.”

Chapter Text

Needless to say, Gobber was not pleased with how his conversation with Stoick went. He could not understand how a father could be so callous toward his own son. Poor Hiccup didn’t deserve that.

While Gobber could not replace Stoick, he was determined to do his best to be there for Hiccup and see that the lad received the care he needed. Once Gothi released the boy, Gobber began to put his plan into action. He couldn’t interfere with Stoick’s arrangement, but he could make sure that Hiccup had somewhere to go where he was wanted. So, every morning after Hiccup was thrown out of Spitelout’s he ran over to Gobber’s, just as he had been instructed. The blacksmith made sure to always have a warm meal ready for him and, once he had eaten, they would head to the forge.

Hiccup was still too young to handle most of the tools, but Gobber took the time to explain how everything worked, and how different weapons were made and repaired. The little boy soaked up the attention and the knowledge, seeming to blossom under Gobber’s care. They would eat lunch together in the forge and the blacksmith always made sure to leave a little something with the lad when he dropped him off at home.

With Hiccup’s new schedule, run-ins with the other younguns were becoming less frequent, though injuries still occurred as Spitelout was none too gentle with the little boy. Gobber was always there, though, to patch him up, and overall, things were going well. That is until Gothi overheard Spitelout plotting in the Great Hall one night.

She remained inconspicuous, gleaning as much information as she could before hastening over to Gobber’s house and pounding on his door with her staff.

Gobber nearly got clobbered when he opened the door, yelling at the old bag to watch where she swung that thing. She pushed her way into his house, causing him to ask, “What are ye doing here at this time of night, anyway?”

He passed her a slate and she was quick to write, “Hiccup is in danger.”

“Did ye tell Stoick,” Gobber queried, only for the little old lady to glare at him. “I’m not saying it’s the best idea,” he defended himself, “but as the lad’s father, he does have a right to know.”

“Considering who the threat is from, I am not going to waste my time,” she scribbled hastily.

“Who?”

“Spitelout,” she wrote furiously. “He was spouting off in the Great Hall about how his son will make a great heir.”

While normally Gobber would have taken Gothi’s warning seriously, this was nothing out of the ordinary. “Eh, he’s always talking like that, and with me keeping an eye out, I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

“He wants to get rid of Hiccup. Permanently.” Gothi underlined the last word twice before shoving the slate in Gobber’s face. Once he had read what she wrote she took the slate back and added, “It’s not safe here for the boy.”

He had to agree. There was just one problem, though. “But what can we do?”

“The Berserkers come in two weeks,” the elderly healer stated. “We need to hide the boy away until then and keep him safe. Hopefully, they will be willing to take him off the island.”

“And how exactly are we supposed to hide him,” Gobber inquired incredulously. “You know Stoick will get suspicious if Hiccup simply disappears. And though we’re doing it for the boy’s safety, how likely is he to believe that? With the way he’s been acting lately, we could just as well be charged with kidnapping.”

“But what if everyone thinks he’s dead,” Gothi proposed.

Gobber’s eyes narrowed. “What are ye suggesting?”

“We’re due for a raid soon,” she explained. “If we can spirit him away then, everyone will assume he was taken by dragons.”

“And where will we keep him, since ye seem to have everything figured out,” Gobber grumbled, thinking that her plan was halfbaked.

“I have a small back room,” she offered. She must have seen the doubt on Gobber’s face as she continued. “I think it’s our only choice, but you’ll have to get him to me.”

“In the middle of a raid,” he exclaimed, only for Gothi to whack him with her staff, gesturing for him to keep it down. “Are ye daft,” he hissed.

“It can be done immediately after,” she replied. “Tuck him into a basket and no one will be any the wiser.”

Gobber huffed, but he knew that Gothi had a point. If they didn’t do something, and soon, there was a good chance that Hiccup would wind up dead and he wasn’t about to allow that to happen. “I think it’s crazy, but I don’t see that we have much choice.”

They ironed out a few other details before Gothi left. It was a good thing they settled it all then, as it was only a few hours later when a raid hit.

Gobber manned the forge, supplying the Berkians with weapons as they fought the scourge that plagued their land, his mind racing as he thought through the plan over and over.

As soon as the last dragon left, he slung a basket over his shoulder, and stopped at one of the storehouses to grab a few things, making his errand more believable. Then, he headed straight for the Chief’s house, intent on getting Hiccup.

The house appeared empty, which was to be expected as Stoick would still be out, cataloging the damage from the raid. Gobber went straight for the stairs, climbing up to find Hiccup curled up in a ball under his furs. He called the boy’s name softly and a pair of large green eyes peeked out at him.

”Is the raid over,” the boy inquired tentatively.

“Yes, lad,” he assured him. “Now, come here,” he said scooping him up.

When Hiccup saw Gobber open the basket, he asked, “What are you doing?”

“It’s not safe for ye here,” Gobber disclosed, removing the small bundle of supplies and setting Hiccup in the basket. “Gothi and I are going to make sure yer alright, but ye need to stay with her fer a couple of weeks and no one can know.”

“Why?”

“No time to explain,” Gobber responded. “Now, I need ye to stay absolutely quiet, no matter what ye hear. Can ye do that?”

Hiccup’s little brow furrowed. “I think so.”

“Not a peep, Hiccup,” he emphasized, not wanting to scare the boy by saying it could mean his life. “I mean it.”

Hiccup seemed to understand how serious he was, though, and nodded slowly. Gobber grabbed the bundle of supplies and told Hiccup to keep it on top of his head before closing the basket. He hadn’t grabbed much from the storehouse, so the bundle was relatively light, but it would serve to hide the true contents of the basket, which was its main purpose.

Gobber carefully hefted the basket onto his shoulder and left the hut, the worried expression on his face coming naturally as he searched for Stoick. Finally, he spotted him in the middle of the village and made his way over, calling out, “Stoick, where is Hiccup?”

“Back at the house,” came the automatic reply.

“No, he’s not,” Gobber declared, hoping that Hiccup would keep his word and stay quiet. “I just checked there on my way up to drop off a few things at Gothi’s.”

A flash of irritation crossed Stoick’s face as he shook his head and muttered, “He knows better than to leave the house during a raid.”

“Be that as it may, we need to find him,” Gobber pointed out.

“Yes. Yes, we do,” Stoick sighed, looking around at all of the repairs that hadn’t even been started yet. “I’ll get a search party together. I’m sure he won’t be far.”

Gobber nodded. “I’m just going to get this to Gothi and then I can lend a hand.”

“Thanks, Gobber,” Stoick remarked, slapping his friend on the back before heading off to round up a few men.

With the plan going well so far, Gobber made his way to Gothi’s, arriving ahead of those injured from the raid. He helped Hiccup out of the basket and ushered him into the healer’s back room, telling him to stay quiet and wait there until Gothi said it was safe for him to come out. The elder had already left a couple of furs there for him and the boy was quick to lie down, ready to go back to sleep, so at least Gobber could leave assured that Hiccup would cause no problems.

Gobber then met up with the other men and joined the search, but of course, Hiccup was nowhere to be found. The blacksmith was disappointed by the Chief’s lack of reaction to the news, even though he had grown to expect it. Stoick announced that he would wait a few days to make sure the boy did not show up before declaring him dead.

Within a week, it was made official. Hiccup was dead and not a soul seemed to mourn his passing. Not even his father. After the announcement, Gobber stopped by Stoick’s hut, offering to lend a hand in clearing out the boy’s room. It was eagerly accepted and as they were packing things up, Gobber asked, “Do ye mind if I keep one or two things, just to remind me of the lad?”

“Take what you want,” Stoick responded. “I have no use for any of this.”

While Gobber was grateful to be able to grab a few items that he knew were dear to Hiccup and that the boy would not want to leave behind, he was thoroughly disappointed by his friend, so much so that he decided to distance himself. He and Stoick had been friends since they were children, but he did not recognize the man anymore. He would respect him as his Chief, but that was as far as he would go.

Chapter Text

Dagur stood at the railing of the ship, practically bouncing up and down. It had been a year since he had seen Hiccup and he had dearly missed his friend.

His father laid a hand on his shoulder and smiled at him. “Calm down, son. We’re almost there.”

“I know,” he replied, “but the sooner we get there, the sooner I see Hiccup!” He raced for the bow, unable to stay still as he kept his eyes open for the first sighting of Berk.

Time seemed to drag, but eventually, their destination appeared on the horizon and they were able to dock, stepping off the ship to greet the Berkians who had assembled.

“Stoick, it’s good to see you again,” his father greeted the other Chief.

“You, too, Oswald,” Stoick responded before turning to him. “And Dagur, look at how much you’ve grown!”

He knew he was supposed to be polite, but he didn’t have time for that right now as there was one very important person missing from the welcoming party. “Where’s Hiccup?”

The Berkian adults seemed to shift uneasily as Stoick said, “Yes, well, about that…”

Taking matters into his own hands, Dagur asked, “Is he up at his hut? I can just-”

He was about to go off on his own since none of the adults seemed to be very helpful, but his dad grabbed his arm, keeping him in place.

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Chief Stoick admitted, but before he could say anymore, the village blacksmith stepped forward.

“I’ll take care of this, Stoick,” he offered, throwing an arm around Dagur’s shoulders and steering him away.

“But I want to see Hiccup,” Dagur protested.

“I know ye do, but there’s something I need to explain to ye about him.”

Dagur eyed the blacksmith warily. His name was Gobber if he remembered correctly. There was something about the way all the adults were acting that was making him suspicious. “Did Hiccup get hurt?” When Gobber didn’t respond, he kept going, saying whatever popped into his mind. “Is he sick? He’s dying!”

He could see the blacksmith was becoming frustrated by his line of questioning, but it couldn’t be nearly as bad as his own displeasure, since no one was telling him where Hiccup was.

“If ye just stay quiet until we get to my hut, I’ll explain it to ye, deal?”

He narrowed his eyes, but seeing that Gobber meant business, he reluctantly agreed. If he didn’t get the answers he was looking for soon, though, he was more than prepared to take matters into his own hands.

An incredibly long walk later, they arrived at the blacksmith’s home. After ushering him inside and closing the door behind them, Gobber said, “Ye see, Dagur, something happened.”

“Where is Hiccup,” he demanded, beginning to have a bad feeling that something had gone terribly wrong.

“Hiccup is hidden away, but the rest of the village thinks he’s dead,” Gobber revealed, causing Dagur to calm down at least a little. “The only ones who know otherwise are me and Gothi, and now ye. I am trusting ye with this information as I know how much ye care about Hiccup.”

He nodded eagerly, but remained quiet, hoping for more information.

“There is someone on Berk who wants Hiccup dead,” Gobber continued, “and the only way to protect him was to make it look like he died in a raid, but because of that, he cannot stay here. Gothi and I were hoping that ye and yer father would be willing to take him back to Berserker Island with ye, but as yer Dad will be with Stoick during the entirety of yer visit, ye are the only one we can explain things to.”

While Dagur would be happy to take Hiccup home with him, he didn’t understand why that seemed to be the only option. “Why couldn’t you just kill the other guy instead?”

“It’s a little more complicated than that,” Gobber hedged, “but I’m not going to go into that right now. Gothi wrote it all out in a letter for yer dad.” He passed him the letter, saying, “I need you to give this to him. Unopened!”

But Dagur had already broken the seal, smiling unapologetically. “Oops! Too late now.” He hastily read through the letter, appalled by what had been going on. “How dare they?!”

“I know, lad,” Gobber agreed, laying a comforting hand on his shoulder, “but ye need to control yer temper. Now, can ye see why it’s not safe here fer Hiccup?”

“Yeah,” he replied, “but how are we supposed to get him onto the ship.”

“I’m glad ye asked,” the blacksmith grinned, explaining the plan.

Once Dagur agreed to it, he was allowed a happy, albeit quiet, reunion with his friend before putting everything into action.

And that was how Dagur found himself trudging forlornly to the ship with a large basket on his back, one that contained his best friend. He thought he was doing an excellent job of pretending to be sad about Hiccup’s death. Of course, the feeling was not one that was widely understood, as was proven when Snotlout stopped his progress, spouting off about how they would be best friends now that he was an heir too. Needless to say, Dagur had to nip that idea in the bud and took advantage of the opportunity to put at least one of the Berkians in their place. Hiccup remained awfully quiet during the altercation, despite the basket bouncing roughly against Dagur’s back. Then again, he thought with a smile, Hiccup was probably enjoying his cousin’s comeuppance as much as Dagur was.

-o0o-

It was with a heavy heart that Oswald left Berk. He couldn’t imagine how he would react if something was to happen to Dagur, but Stoick’s blasé attitude over his son’s death had shook him to his core. Oswald had thought he knew the other Chief well, but apparently, he didn’t. It had given him pause when it came time to sign the treaty, but he went ahead with it, thinking that peace was better than war. They saw each other so rarely that it wouldn’t hurt, but he resolved to make their visits from here on out as brief as possible.

He was pulled from his thoughts by his son coming to stand at his side. He wrapped an arm around Dagur’s shoulders, knowing that the boy would probably be taking his friend’s death hard.

“Hey, Dad?”

“Yes, Dagur,” he responded.

“Um, there’s something I need to tell you,” he disclosed, causing Oswald to quirk an eyebrow.

“Is there?”

“Yeah…” Dagur trailed off. “Maybe it’d be better if I just showed you.”

His son slipped out from under his arm and grabbed his hand, pulling him below deck and to his private quarters, opening the door to reveal-

“Hiccup!”

The boy waved awkwardly. “Hello, Chief Oswald.”

“But your father said…”

“I know,” Hiccup mumbled, shifting from one foot to the other. “I don’t understand it all the way. Gobber didn’t tell me everything, but-”

“He gave me a letter for you,” Dagur interrupted, passing him a piece of parchment with the seal already broken.

Oswald glanced at his son questioningly, resulting in him admitting, “I may have already read it.”

He shook his head, knowing that his son’s curiosity sometimes got the better of him. They would discuss this further later, but for now, he turned his attention to the letter.

Chief Oswald,

I am sorry to throw you into this situation completely unawares, but you have to understand that this was Hiccup’s only chance to survive. Much has happened since your visit last year, including the fact that Hiccup was being starved and severely mistreated by his uncle, not to mention the other children regularly attacking him. Gobber attempted to convince Stoick to intervene, but his only response was that he must be mistaken and Hiccup needed to toughen up.

Gobber managed to step in enough to see that Hiccup was being taken care of, but then Spitelout’s plans to make his own son heir took a drastic turn. We got Hiccup away before he could try anything, perpetuating the belief that he was taken in a raid, but with his life on the line, he cannot stay here.

I understand that with the treaty, he may not be able to stay with you, but if you have connections with other tribes, perhaps you might know of someone who could take good care of him.

If he is desirous of returning once he has reached his majority, Gobber and I would be happy to support him, but it wouldn’t be without its dangers. Please do the best you can by him and, if possible, keep us updated about his welfare.

Thank you for your assistance.

Gothi

“Well, Dad,” Dagur prompted him.

Oswald took a deep breath. With the situation as it was on Berk, his conscious left him with only one option. “It looks like you’re coming back with us, Hiccup. But we will need to take some precautions,” he explained. “No, one can know you’re here.”

“More hiding,” the boy asked dispiritedly.

“I’m afraid so, lad,” Oswald replied. “But it shouldn’t be for too long.”

“Can’t Hiccup stay with us,” his son entreated.

“I’m afraid it’s not so easy as that, Dagur.”

“But then where will he go,” the boy demanded.

“I have an idea or two,” Oswald shared, “but will need some time to see if they are feasible options.”

“I’d much rather he stay with us,” Dagur grumbled.

“I know, son,” he commiserated, taking in the dejected look on both boys' faces, “but I promise I will make sure it’s possible for the two of you to stay in touch. Okay?”

“Okay,” they mumbled, less than pleased by his decision. But though he wasn’t pleased with the way Stoick had acted, he still was not about to risk the treaty.

Chapter Text

After another ride in the basket, Hiccup found himself looking around the tunnels Chief Oswald and Dagur had brought him to. “I have to stay here…by myself?”

“I’m sorry, Hiccup,” Chief Oswald apologized, “but this is the only place where you can remain completely hidden.”

“Maybe I can camp out here some nights,” Dagur suggested hopefully, throwing an arm around Hiccup’s shoulders.

“Perhaps,” Chief Oswald responded slowly. “It would not be so unusual that it would draw attention.”

“What about the dragons,” Hiccup asked hesitantly.

“We hardly see them,” Chief Oswald reassured him. “For some reason, they seem to avoid our island.”

Hiccup let out a breath of relief. He had never stayed somewhere by himself for more than a few hours. Even his dad always came home at night. He was admittedly a little nervous, but knowing that there weren’t any dragons around did help ease his fears a bit.

Chief Oswald must have seen something of that as he continued, “Either Dagur or I will check in on you every day to make sure you have sufficient food and wood. And if you need anything else, just let us know, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded. “How- how long do you think I’ll have to stay here?”

“If things work out…perhaps no more than two weeks,” Chief Oswald answered, before bidding Hiccup farewell and promising the boy he would return in a few hours.

Left to his own devices, Hiccup curled up in the furs they had left him with, thinking about how he would be here for two weeks… Two long weeks in a tunnel all by himself. At least he had the prospect of spending some time with Dagur, but still… Two weeks…

He wasn’t sure how long he had been asleep when a hand gently shook his shoulder. Hiccup opened his eyes to find that Chief Oswald had returned and started a fire. There was a small satchel of food and water and even a small pot of soup waiting to be heated up. He thanked the Chief gratefully and set about warming up the soup. Chief Oswald watched him for a few minutes before asking if there was anything else he required.

“I’ll be fine,” Hiccup replied bravely.

Chief Oswald ruffled his hair before promising that Dagur would be there tomorrow evening to spend the night with him, so at least he had that to look forward to. Hiccup took his time eating his meal before going back to sleep. After all, there wasn’t anything else to do.

By the next morning, the fire had burned out, but it wasn’t so terribly cold that he needed it. He rummaged through the supplies, assembling a simple breakfast for himself as he thought about how he was going to spend his day.

The tunnels weren’t completely dark and, while Chief Oswald had told him that he couldn’t leave, he didn’t say anything about staying right here, so perhaps it would be okay for him to explore if he was very careful.

With that decided, Hiccup cautiously made his way deeper into the tunnel system, wondering what he might find. It would probably be nothing more than a bunch of rocks, but maybe he might find a bat…or a spider.

As he made his way deeper into Berserker Mountain, the terrain began to change. He had always thought that mountains were made completely of rock, but the middle of this one was made of ice. They were further north than Berk, so maybe that explained it, he reasoned to himself.

Not too much further along though, he reached a dead end. The wall of the cave looked very different from the others though, all white and such a strange texture. His hand itched to touch it and he slowly reached out, but what he was not expecting was for the wall to move. He stumbled backward and looked up to discover that it was not a wall at all, but rather the largest dragon he had ever seen.

He stared at it, frozen in fear, a million and one thoughts running through his head, most prominently the fact that he was never going to make it out of there alive. But to his great surprise, the dragon did nothing more than huff at him and lumber away in the opposite direction.

Hiccup was not about to take any more chances and raced back to his makeshift camp, collapsing on the ground as he tried to catch his breath and wrap his mind around what he had just seen. He knew there were big dragons, but this one was enormous. It was so large that even his dad wouldn’t stand a chance against it. And yet, the dragon had let him go. It confused him greatly as he had been told that a dragon would always go for the kill. Could it be that not all dragons were the same? Maybe there was something he was missing… With that thought in mind, Hiccup resolved to ask Dagur when he came to spend the night. After all, his friend was older than him and was sure to know more about the dragons.

He was disappointed, though, as when he asked Dagur about the dragon who lived under Berserker Island, his friend gave him a strange look.

“What dragon?”

“The- the dragon,” Hiccup stuttered. “He’s big and white and…” He trailed off as Dagur began to shake his head.

“You heard what dad said,” his friend remarked. “We don’t get dragons here. Maybe you fell asleep and dreamed it.”

A lot had happened in the last few days and Hiccup supposed that could have been possible. “Yeah…that must be it,” he muttered. But somehow, he knew that the dragon was real. He would just have to go looking for it again. And if he didn’t find anything, well, then it really was a dream.

He tried not to think about it and enjoy the time with his friend, but as soon as Dagur left the next morning, Hiccup was off, heading back toward where he had seen the mammoth dragon the day before. This time around, he had to head deeper into the tunnels, but he bravely kept going, eventually, finding the dragon.

He closed his eyes and pinched himself, but upon looking again, the dragon was still there. “So, I’m not asleep,” he mumbled to himself. “That means you must be real. But then why did you let me go yesterday? Why don’t you attack me?

“Why would I attack a hatchling?”

Hiccup stiffened and frantically looked around, sure that someone must be playing a trick on him. “Now I’m not only seeing things, I’m hearing things, too.”

“You are not hearing things, hatchling,” the voice spoke again, “though my species is the only one who can reach other’s minds like this.”

Hiccup turned back to the dragon to find its icy blue eyes trained on him. “Y-you’re t-talking to me,” he stammered with wide eyes. “A-a dragon is talking to me.”

“So it would seem,” the dragon observed kindly. “Tell me, hatchling, what are you doing in these tunnels?”

“Well,” he hedged, “it’s kind of a long story and I don’t know all of it…”

“I have plenty of time,” the dragon commented, making himself comfortable.

Though Hiccup had every reason to be scared of such an enormous creature, he wasn’t. There was something…friendly about the dragon and he found himself sharing all that had happened to him in the last year, leading up to him being here. When he finished, he looked up at the dragon and asked, “Since you know all about me now, can I ask something about you?”

“I suppose that would only be fair,” the dragon responded graciously.

“Why are you being so nice to me?”

The snowy white dragon tilted his head. “You do not mean me any harm, do you?”

“Of course not,” Hiccup declared emphatically. “And even if I did, I doubt I could do anything to actually hurt you.”

“You are quite unique and have a good heart,” the dragon informed him. “I could see that and I’m sure other dragons would, too.”

Hiccup looked up at the dragon in awe. “You mean other dragons would be nice to me, too?”

“I think it is more than possible,” he acknowledged.

Hiccup mulled over that information, amazed at the fact that he could maybe find friends, even if they were dragons and not people. Looking back up at his companion, he realized that he may as well start now. “You’ve been so nice to me, much nicer than most of the Vikings I know,” he confessed. “Would- would you be my friend?”

The dragon blew a slight puff of cold air toward him, saying, “I would be honored.”

His eyes lit up, shocked that it had been that easy. “Really?! Thank you!” He beamed up at the dragon, thinking that he wouldn’t mind having more draconic friends, but how to go about it? Maybe his new friend could help. “I’d like to become friends with other dragons, too, but I guess it would be a lot harder if I couldn’t understand them,” he frowned, realizing what the biggest struggle would be. “You said you’re the only one who could do…this?” He gestured between them vaguely, hoping the dragon would understand what he meant.

“That is correct,” his friend answered, “but all dragons can speak.”

“Really?!”

The dragon looked at him fondly. “Yes, like this,” he said before roaring.

It was incredibly loud to Hiccup, but when he thought about the size of his friend, he realized that for him, it was probably a whisper. That didn’t mean he understood what he was talking about though. “That was just a roar,” he commented, his little brow furrowed.

“To a human, yes,” his friend replied, “but to a dragon, that was a friendly greeting.”

“Really? Could you maybe teach me,” Hiccup asked eagerly.

“I would be glad to.”

Chapter Text

“Everything looks to be in order,” Viggo said, taking one last look over the contract and the payment that Oswald the Agreeable had given him. “We will deliver the dragons to your arena, per usual?”

“Yes, thank you,” Oswald replied.

“Of course,” Viggo remarked. “I will tell Ryker to proceed as soon as I return to the ship.” He gathered up the paperwork and added, “In your letter, you said there was a sensitive matter that you needed to discuss with us. Should we go into that now?”

“Yes, that would be best,” Oswald responded. “You see, the heir of a tribe I am allied with was in a bit of a dangerous situation, life-threatening to be exact. His death was faked and I provided him refuge, but I cannot keep him here. I was hoping that maybe you might be willing to take him with you,” he proposed. “He is a bright boy and I am sure he would prove an asset to your tribe.”

It was an unusual request, to be sure, but they could always use more able-bodied men. “Does he have any skills?”

“Not that I am aware of,” Oswald answered, “but he catches on to things quite quickly.”

Viggo nodded, but he still had one concern. “How do I know that his tribe would not come searching for him?”

“He has been declared dead by his own father, and no one there seemed to even care that he was gone,” Oswald informed him. “The village healer and the blacksmith are the only ones who know he is alive as they were the ones to smuggle him onto my ship.”

Seeing as the heir had assistance in leaving, Viggo began to question his age. “How old is the boy?”

“Six.”

Viggo’s eyebrows shot up, “Six?! You meant to tell me that someone was trying to kill a child?!”

Oswald nodded solemnly. “The boy’s own uncle.”

He took a deep breath, realizing that this situation would be fraught with more difficulties than he had assumed. “And his father’s reaction to all of this?”

The Chief grimaced. “His father is a proponent of being tough and strong, doing things ‘the Viking way.’ Unfortunately, the boy is small for his age and not much of a fighter. He was mistreated and neglected, increasingly so in this last year. I assure you, his family would not give you any trouble.” Oswald paused, clearly weighing his words before continuing. “Your tribe was my first thought as the boy is incredibly smart, even at such a young age. I know your people value thinking ability and would help him to thrive. If you would not feel comfortable taking him with you, though, I will think of something else.”

“Is there a reason he cannot stay here,” Viggo inquired, wanting to get a fuller grasp of the situation.

“Keeping the heir of an allied tribe here, even if he has been presumed dead, is a risky business,” Oswald put forth.

“Ahh, I understand.” That aligned with what his grandfather had been teaching him in preparation for his taking over as Chief. Viggo was not sure how they would manage with a small child on their ship, but there was something about this whole situation that was pulling on his heartstrings. For such a young child to go through so much…it was appalling. And if they could lend aid, there was no reason to refuse. “I suppose we can take him with us,” he decided. “We should be able to find a family willing to take him in. Where is the boy?”

“Hidden away,” Oswald revealed. “I had to keep his stay here a secret, but I will bring him to your ship before you depart.”

Viggo nodded in acknowledgment before standing. “I will see you then.”

With that, he left the Chief’s hut, intent on finding his brother. It did not take long to reach the docks and inform Ryker which dragons needed to be unloaded, but before he let his brother go to oversee the delivery of dragons, he said, “There is one more item we must discuss. There has been a slight change of plans and we will be taking on a passenger.”

His brother looked at him incredulously. “And why would we be doing that?”

“Because there is a small child who needs somewhere safe,” he reasoned.

“And why is that our responsibility,” Ryker grumbled.

“I suppose it is not,” Viggo confessed, “but Oswald believes we would be the boy’s best option.”

His brother stared at him for a moment, trying to gauge how serious he was about all this, eventually shaking his finger and warning, “As long as he doesn’t cause any trouble. I’ll not be responsible for keeping the boy out of harm’s way on a ship full of dragons.”

“Oswald said he was quite smart for his age,” Viggo shared. “He should be fine.”

“If you say so, brother,” Ryker commented skeptically before walking off.

Viggo could tell that his brother was not fully convinced this was a wise idea, but he was sure things would go well. After all, how much trouble could one child be?

He went below deck to file away the paperwork while Ryker delivered the dragons. After redistributing the weight within their ship, they were ready to depart, only waiting for Oswald to arrive with their guest. Viggo could tell his brother was anxious to be on their way, but there truly was no rush. It was not long before Oswald could be seen approaching, with a basket on his back, but strangely enough, he was alone. Viggo could not help but wonder if the Chief had changed his mind after all.

As the other man boarded the ship, he met him, saying, “Oswald, I thought you were-”

The Chief cut him off, though, asking, “Would it be possible for us to go below deck?”

That caught Viggo off guard. “If you deem it necessary?”

“I do,” Oswald replied.

It was a strange request, but he had no objection, leading the Chief down to his private quarters with Ryker following them. Once the door was shut behind them, Oswald removed the basket from his back and set it on the ground, opening the lid as he explained, “This is the only way we’ve been able to get him around without him being seen.”

Sure enough, a small boy peeked over the edge of the basket, his bright green eyes darting around the room before finally settling on Viggo. “Hello,” he said in a small voice.

Viggo knelt next to the basket to greet the lad. “Hello there. My name is Viggo and that is my brother Ryker,” he said, gesturing to the man even though he was the only other person in the room the boy was unfamiliar with. “What is your name, little one?”

“Hiccup.”

Ryker growled behind him, but Viggo knew it was not directed at Hiccup himself, but rather the people who had thought it was a good idea to brand their child as a runt for the rest of his life. He felt the same as his brother, but he tried not to show it. “Do not mind my brother,” he told the lad. “He is a little rough around the edges but he will not be unkind to you. Would you like to get out of that basket?”

Hiccup nodded, looking up at him with those big green eyes.

Viggo slipped his hands underneath the boy’s arms and lifted him out, surprised by how light he was. Taking a better look at the lad as he set him down, he could see that Oswald had not been wrong about how tiny he was, and yet, despite having been mistreated, he seemed oddly trusting.

“Alright, Hiccup,” Oswald said, ruffling his hair. “You be a good boy.”

“I will,” he promised. “Could you tell Dagur I said goodbye?”

“Of course, lad,” Oswald smiled. “And we’ll keep in touch.” Turning to Viggo, he added, “I’ll leave the basket with you. It has his few belongings and an extra set of clothes.”

With that, farewells were said and Oswald left, Ryker going along with him to see him off the ship.

When Viggo turned back around, he found the boy looking up at him with a puzzled expression on his face. “Was there something you wanted to ask, Hiccup?”

“Chief Oswald said I was going with you to your island,” he shared. “Where is it?”

“That is a very good question,” Viggo acknowledged, scooping the boy up and setting him on his bed before sitting down next to him. “Before I answer that, though, there are a few things I must explain, alright?”

Hiccup nodded, his intelligent green eyes completely focused on him.

Chapter Text

Viggo phrased his explanation carefully, wanting to be sure that Hiccup understood. “This ship is a very special one,” he began. “In fact, I am sure that it is much bigger than any you have ever been on. If you would like, I can give you a tour once we finish our discussion, but you will need to be very careful when you are not in this cabin.”

“Why,” Hiccup inquired curiously. “Are the people here mean, too?”

His brow furrowed as he looked at the little boy. “What do you mean by that, Hiccup?”

“No one really liked me back home,” he mumbled, his gaze dropping to his lap.

“I like you, Hiccup,” Viggo said, his heart breaking as he wrapped his arm around the boy’s shoulders, the lad looking up at him in surprise. “And I am sure that everyone else from my tribe will feel the same way once they get to know you.”

Hiccup tilted his head and asked, “What’s the name of your tribe?”

“The Stormheart Tribe.”

The boy nodded and declared, “I like it.”

Viggo stifled a smile and replied, “I am glad you do. Now getting back on the topic of the ship. What makes this ship so special is that we transport dragons.”

“Dragons,” Hiccup exclaimed, his eyes lighting up.

“Yes, dragons,” Viggo confirmed, amused by the lad’s excitement. “I would be happy to show them to you,” he offered, “but you have to promise not to get close to their cages as you could get hurt very badly.”

Hiccup nodded eagerly and Viggo could not help but wonder if this was what he had been like as a child.

“Now as for where we are going,” he stated, getting them back on track, “it is to an island called Tulva.”

“I’ve never heard of it,” Hiccup responded.

“It is far to the west,” Viggo shared, “outside of the archipelago.”

Hiccup’s eyes widened. “That’s really far.”

“That it is,” Viggo agreed with a slight smile. “Now, do you have any other questions?”

“Can we see the dragons,” the boy asked, practically bouncing up and down.

“I do not see why we can not,” Viggo remarked, much to the lad’s delight, “but remember, you need to be careful.”

“I will be,” Hiccup promised as Viggo helped him down and guided him out the door.

Despite the boy’s excitement, he stayed by Viggo’s side. At least until they reached the area where the dragon cages were, that is. Fortunately, he noticed Hiccup about to dart toward the nearest cage and reached out, grabbing the back of the boy’s tunic. “Careful, Hiccup,” he warned. “Remember what I told you about not getting too close.”

“But they look so sad,” Hiccup countered as he stared at the Gronckle in the first cage. “I bet they’d be a lot happier if they weren’t stuck in these little rooms.”

“I suppose you are right,” Viggo admitted, though that was not one of his primary concerns, “but then how would we transport them? After all, we can not let them loose or they will leave.”

“You could ask them to stay,” Hiccup suggested, trying to pull out of Viggo’s grip to get a closer look at the next cage, where a Nadder was sound asleep, though with the chattering child, Viggo was not sure how long that would last.

He switched to holding Hiccup’s hand, and said, “While that is an interesting thought, I do not think it would be so simple.”

“Dragons are very nice when you get to know them,” Hiccup stated matter-of-factly.

Viggo glanced down at the child, wondering where on earth he had picked up such notions. They were interesting, to be sure, but not at all practical, and he was beginning to question whether letting the lad see the dragons had been such a good idea after all. “Come along, Hiccup. Let’s keep moving.”

The boy darted in front of him, peering into a cage on the other side of the corridor, and asking, “What kind of dragon is that?”

“That is a Night Fury,” he revealed, quite proud of this acquisition. “It is very likely he is the last of his kind.”

“He’s so small,” Hiccup observed, trying to get closer, but Viggo kept a firm grip on his hand, especially as the Night Fury was creeping closer to the door of his cage.

“I believe he is a fledgling,” he disclosed.

Hiccup tore his eyes away from the dragon to look up at him. “Like me?”

“I suppose so,” Viggo hesitantly agreed, surprised by the boy’s logic, “though I would not have put it that way. Now, come along,” he said, turning around and leading Hiccup back the way they had come. “It is time we went back to the deck.”

The lad seemed to drag his feet, eyes darting around as he was trying to take in everything he could before they left, though his gaze did drift back to the Night Fury most of all. When they stepped back onto the deck, Hiccup asked, “Can I visit the dragons again tomorrow?”

Viggo hated to disappoint the boy, especially as he had enjoyed it so much, but having a hyperactive child around so many dragons had not proven to be such a great idea. Instead of saying no outright, he settled with telling the lad that they would have to wait and see.

Thankfully, it satisfied Hiccup for the nonce, his attention quickly captured by the hunters going about their daily tasks. Viggo spent the rest of the day answering the lad’s questions and he was beginning to have an inkling of what Ryker had gone through growing up as his own curiosity had been the equal of Hiccup’s.

Finally, though, it was time to turn in for the night. Viggo made the decision to share his bunk with Hiccup as it would be the safest place for the lad. As he lay there watching the boy sleep, he found himself thinking that though the day had been tiring, he had thoroughly enjoyed it. There was something special about the boy, with his unique and unconventional way of thinking. He could see why Oswald had said he would be an asset to their tribe. He most definitely had potential and Viggo was curious to see how it would develop.

With that thought in mind, he allowed himself to close his eyes. If tomorrow was anything like today, he would definitely need all the rest he could get. He dozed off, but sometime in the middle of the night, he woke up with the distinct impression that something was wrong.

Looking around his quarters, he realized two things in quick succession. Hiccup was gone and his door was open.

He raced into the corridor, locking his quarters behind him before banging on his brother’s door. “Ryker! Ryker, wake up!”

The door opened to reveal his disgruntled brother. “What is it?”

“Hiccup is gone,” he declared frantically. “He disappeared. We need to look for him.”

“You should have locked your door,” Ryker grumbled, joining him in the corridor.

“You know I always do,” he retorted, feeling like that should have been obvious as he would not risk the important papers stored there. “When I woke, the key was sitting in the lock,” he explained. “Hiccup must have seen where I put it and retrieved it.”

“Crafty little lad,” Ryker commented as they slowly made their way through the ship.

“I doubt he had any ill intentions,” Viggo said. After all, the boy was incredibly open and honest.

His brother waved off his remark and inquired, “Do you have any idea where he might have gone?”

Viggo thought back over where he had taken the lad and mentioned, “He was fascinated with the dragons earlier, but surely he would not-” He broke off and paled, racing toward the dragon cages as he was afraid that was where Hiccup had gone. The boy had been so insistent that dragons were nice and had so desperately wanted to get closer to them. Viggo swore he would never forgive himself if something had happened to the lad.

His brother swiftly caught up to him and reasoned, “I doubt he would be there as surely we would have heard his cries by now. Plus, there’s no way he would have been able to slip past the patrolling guards.”

“He could have if he stuck to the shadows,” Viggo pointed out, thinking that the poor boy had probably had plenty of practice doing just that with the way he had been treated on his home island. “He is tiny enough that no one would probably notice him.” Ryker grunted in acknowledgment, keeping pace with him as he added, “As unlikely as it is, I have a feeling we had better start there.”

Upon reaching the cages, the brothers each took one side. About halfway down the row, Ryker softly called his brother over. “Look.”

Viggo stared in astonishment, as there, wrapped in the Night Fury’s wings, was little Hiccup. He was sound asleep with only his head visible, and all Viggo could mutter was, “How did he-” before cutting himself off, his shock was that great. He was about to open the cage to retrieve the little boy when his brother caught his arm.

“Look again,” he whispered.

Viggo did as his brother requested and saw that the Night Fury was staring right at the two of them, a slight snarl escaping his lips as he held Hiccup closer to him. The snarl brought Ryker’s point home. “Is that dragon’s muzzle off,” he asked incredulously.

“Yes, and that makes this ten times harder,” Ryker noted cynically. “How are we supposed to get him out now?”

He breathed deeply and took stock of the situation, eventually coming to a conclusion. “As much as I hate to say this, it looks like we are just going to have to wait for him to wake up,” Viggo responded. “The dragon is too protective of him for us to try anything, but if he got himself in there, hopefully, he will be able to get himself out.”

“This is going to be a long night,” Ryker complained settling himself between cages on the other side of the corridor.

“I can stay-”

“And have him unmuzzle all the other dragons while you fall asleep again,” his brother retorted. “I don’t think so.”

Viggo shrugged and mirrored Ryker’s position. “I guess we are both staying, then.”

Chapter Text

Viggo woke up the next morning to his brother shaking his shoulder. It took him a moment to place where he was, but then the panic from the night before returned and he looked to the cage across from them, seeing why Ryker had woken him. Hiccup was beginning to stir.

The brothers silently crept closer, hoping not to wake the sleeping Night Fury as Viggo softly called the young boy’s name.

Hiccup groggily sat up and yawned, rubbing his eyes.

Viggo called the boy’s name once more and this time Hiccup seemed to register it, his gaze landing on them as he murmured a sleepy good morning. Unfortunately, the lad’s movement had woken up the Night Fury as well, causing Viggo to keep his voice low as he said, “Hiccup, I need you to move slowly and come toward the door.”

“Why?”

“Because I need to speak with you,” Viggo responded calmly but firmly.

Hiccup seemed to scoot closer to the Night Fury as he asked, “Am I in trouble?”

As much as he would like to say yes, Viggo knew that if he did, the boy would never come out of the cage. “No, I would just like to understand what happened,” he said instead, “but please come out of the cage first.”

“Why?”

“Because Night Furies are one of the deadliest dragons known to mankind,” he explained patiently, “and I want to make sure you are uninjured.”

“Toothless would never hurt me,” Hiccup declared, laying his hand on top of the Night Fury’s head and just about giving Viggo a heart attack, while behind him, his brother incredulously repeated the name the boy seemed to have given the unholy offspring of lightning and death itself.

Viggo took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his frayed nerves and said, “Be that as it may, I would feel much more comfortable if you came out of there.”

Hiccup seemed to hesitate, the dragon crooning at him questioningly before the two of them slowly approached the cage door. Hiccup slipped right through the gaps between the bars, answering the question of how he had gotten in there in the first place. The Night Fury tried to follow, but he was he was just a little too big to fit, much to his apparent disappointment.

Hiccup remained close to the door, stroking the Night Fury’s head and refusing to make eye contact with either of the adults.

With the dragon still unmuzzled, Viggo would have preferred to have the boy further away, but this seemed to be as far as they were going to progress currently, so he began by saying, “Hiccup, do you remember what I told you about leaving my cabin?”

“That I would have to be careful,” he replied apprehensively.

“Yes.”

“But I was careful,” the boy insisted.

Viggo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Hiccup, I warned you about approaching the dragon cages.”

“But I knew that Toothless wouldn’t hurt me,” he claimed.

“And how did you know that,” Viggo pressed, thinking that this would be an easy way to poke holes in the boy’s defense.

What he was not expecting, though, was for Hiccup to answer, “Because he told me.”

How do you argue against a child’s imagination? Deciding to try and approach this from another angle, Viggo said, “Hiccup, I was very worried when I saw you asleep in there, especially as you had removed the Night Fury’s muzzle. That was a very dangerous thing to do.”

“But it was too tight and it was hurting him,” he reasoned, wrapping his arms around as much of the dragon as he could reach. “He was scared and all alone and I know what that’s like. I just wanted to keep him company.” By the time the lad finished speaking, his voice was so quiet Viggo could barely hear him.

“Hiccup…”

“Toothless is my friend,” the boy pleaded, finally looking up at him with watery eyes. “Isn’t that what you do for friends? I haven’t had many, so I’m not really sure…”

The lad’s honesty and innocence was going to be the death of him. His heart was in the right place, but making friends with dragons? What was he thinking?! Viggo glanced at his brother hoping for some assistance in helping Hiccup to understand, but his brother just shook his head.

“Don’t look at me,” Ryker muttered. “You’re the one who took this challenge on.”

Viggo looked back at the boy only to see the forlorn look on his face and tried to offer some encouragement. “Hiccup, I promise once we get back to Tulva, you will make friends, human friends,” he hastened to clarify. “There is no need for you to look for friendship with the dragons.”

Hiccup’s brow furrowed as he looked back at the Night Fury. “But we’re already friends.”

Ryker snorted behind him. “Have fun with that.”

Before Viggo could even try to dissuade the boy, he was looking up at him hopefully, asking, “Can Toothless come with me?”

“No, Hiccup,” he said firmly.

“But-”

“No,” Viggo repeated, gently pulling Hiccup away from the cage and nudging him toward Ryker. The only problem was that they still had to muzzle the Night Fury. He stepped closer to the cage only for the dragon to growl viciously. Viggo was beginning to question his sanity for even considering what he was about to do, but it did not appear they had much choice. “Hiccup, since this dragon seems to…like…you, I am going to need you to put his muzzle back on.”

“But it hurts him,” he protested.

“I will loosen it,” Viggo offered, “but it needs to go back on.”

“Why?”

Ryker smirked over the boy’s shoulder and Viggo realized he was thoroughly enjoying this, having gone through something similar years ago. While Viggo was beginning to understand why Ryker had gotten frustrated with him so easily when they were younger, he also knew that asking questions was the only way for a child to learn, so he calmly responded, “Because we can not risk any of the dragons using their fire. Do you know what would happen if they did?”

Hiccup’s brow furrowed as he thought, eventually saying, “They would get out of their little rooms?”

“They would sink the ship,” Viggo elucidated. “Not only would all the people die, but so would all the dragons who are still in their cages.”

He seemed to be getting through to the lad, but Hiccup’s shuffling feet told him that the boy was still not pleased with what that meant he had to do. “What if Toothless promised not to use his fire,” he proposed.

Viggo admired the boy’s persistence, but this was one rule that he was not willing to bend. The potential outcome was too horrific to contemplate. “The muzzle is not an option, Hiccup.”

The lad’s shoulders sagged as he walked back into the cage to retrieve the muzzle, passing it to Viggo so he could make the needed adjustments.

“I’m sorry, Toothless,” Hiccup whispered, “but I don’t want you or the other dragons to die.”

Viggo passed the muzzle back, watching carefully to make sure the boy put it on correctly. It was not the most complicated piece of equipment, but if the buckles were not secured properly, a dragon could slip it off on their own. Hiccup must have been paying attention when he took it off, though, as Viggo did not need to make any corrections.

Satisfied that the dragon would not be sinking their ship any time soon, he gestured for the boy to join him. “Come along, Hiccup.”

The lad refused to move from the Night Fury’s side, though, warily asking, “Am I going to be punished?”

Viggo could understand Hiccup’s unease, considering what he had been told of the boy’s past. While he was not pleased with what the lad had done, after explaining everything to him, Hiccup had seemed to understand why certain precautions were necessary, even if he did not like it. Not wanting to scare the boy, Viggo knelt down to his level and said, “No, you will not be punished, but you are not allowed to visit the dragons unless there is an adult with you. Do you understand?”

Hiccup nodded drearily and stepped out of the cage, his gaze lingering on the Night Fury’s as Viggo escorted him back to his quarters.

Chapter Text

The rest of the day had, thankfully, passed without further incident and Viggo was hopeful that the same would prove true for the remainder of their journey. He also learned from the previous night’s mistake and moved the key for his quarters to a shelf Hiccup would not be able to reach, allowing them both an uninterrupted night’s sleep.

The next day started with another barrage of questions from the young boy, which, for the most part, Viggo was happy to answer, but there was a stack of paperwork he needed to look through and the lad’s constant chatter was making it hard to focus. Fortunately, Hiccup was easily distracted by Viggo giving him some parchment of his own and his cabin was finally blessed with the silence he needed to concentrate.

The only problem was, he became so absorbed in his work that he forgot to check on the young boy and when he eventually did, the parchment had been abandoned and Hiccup was nowhere to be found. Viggo hastily put everything away with the thought that, for the nonce, he would have to tackle his work at night when the lad was asleep, as clearly, he could not afford to take his eyes off of him.

Locking his quarters behind him, he made his way to the deck only to find his brother yelling at a couple of the guards.

“How did all the dragons get out of their cages,” Ryker thundered.

Coming up behind him, Viggo laid a hand on his brother’s shoulder and revealed, “I think I might have an idea. Hiccup disappeared again.”

Ryker dragged a hand down his face and grumbled something about troublesome children, but before they could begin their search for the boy, he appeared from the corridor where the dragons were caged, the Night Fury bounding along beside him.

Viggo told the men to stand down before taking a deep breath and approaching the child. “Hiccup, did you let the dragons out?”

“They were very hungry,” the lad explained. “I just let them out so they could go fishing,” he remarked innocently.

Viggo resisted the urge to sigh and said, “Hiccup, what did I tell you about visiting the dragons?”

“That I needed an adult with me,” he murmured before perking up. “But there was one!”

“Who,” Viggo asked skeptically.

“I don’t know his name,” Hiccup admitted. “He was taking a nap at the end of the hallway and I didn’t want to wake him up. But he was there!”

The guard… He must be speaking of the guard, who had apparently fallen asleep at his post. Viggo exchanged a glance with his brother who nodded, signaling that he would take care of the guard once this situation was dealt with muttering something about two weeks wasted, no doubt in reference to the missing dragons.

Viggo turned back to the boy and the Night Fury who was rubbing up against him. “Hiccup, I appreciate the fact that you were trying to help, but you can not just let the dragons out of their cages,” he stated firmly. “What if you had been hurt?”

“They would never have hurt me,” Hiccup insisted. “They’re my friends.”

“There’s also the matter of us losing all our cargo,” Ryker added, looking at the boy sternly.

Hiccup’s brow furrowed. “Cargo? What does that mean?”

“Items that are transported for sale,” Viggo supplied. “In this case, the dragons.”

“Oh,” Hiccup murmured, seeming to finally realize the enormity of his mistake, but it did not last long as the lad hastened to reassure them. “The dragons aren’t lost,” he said. “They just went fishing. They’ll be back.”

Viggo pinched the bridge of his nose, “Hiccup, that is not how-”

He did not make it any further, though, as there was the sound of approaching wingbeats.

“See,” Hiccup declared, pointing to the returning dragons.

Viggo stared in shock, unable to believe his eyes. Ryker was in a similar position next to him but had the forethought to call out, warning their men not to fire. After all, if the dragons were coming back willingly, there was no need to risk further damage.

Hiccup could not seem to keep quiet though, proudly proclaiming, “I told you they would come back. They promised me.” Turning his gaze to Ryker, he added, “And they weren’t going to fire either.”

“I was speaking to our men,” Ryker clarified.

“But they don’t have fire,” Hiccup replied, a puzzled expression on his face.

“No, but they can throw nets and bolas to force the dragons back to the ship,” Ryker explained, still trying to make sense of what just happened.

“But they came back on their own,” Hiccup pointed out.

“I know,” Ryker responded a little testily, “and that’s why I warned my men not to act.”

“How did you manage to convince them to return,” Viggo inquired, feeling that this conversation had continued long enough when they needed answers.

“Friends don’t leave friends behind,” Hiccup said as if it was all so simple.

Before Viggo could ask anything else, the lad was scampering off toward the nearest Nadder, the Night Fury on his heels. He watched as they began some sort of game, the boy acting like it was completely normal to be playing with fire-breathing reptiles who were ten times his size. 

Was this why Hiccup’s people had treated him so badly? While Viggo supposed it could be true, he could not understand why no one had seen the potential in this very useful skill. It would be incredibly beneficial to them, and though the boy was a handful, he was sure he would mellow out with age. The only real problem he could see was making sure that the lad did not become too attached to the merchandise, as Hiccup seemed to view all the dragons as his friends.

His thoughts were interrupted by his brother saying, “That lad sure is a strange one. What do you make of him?”

“I’m not sure,” Viggo confessed, before calling out, “Hiccup, since you saw fit to let all the dragons out, it is now your responsibility to return them to their cages, complete with muzzles.”

The lad stopped short in the middle of the game, turning his pleading eyes on Viggo, saying, “But they’re so tight.”

“I’ll go with you and loosen them a bit,” Ryker offered reluctantly, but it seemed to make all the difference in the world to the boy.

“Okay,” Hiccup accepted, cheerily beckoning all the dragons to follow him. “Come on, everybody.”

Even though he had come to expect it, seeing the dragons calmly following the lad back into the hold made Viggo wonder if they had somehow sailed into an alternate archipelago. Nothing else could truly explain the phenomenon that was Hiccup.

Chapter Text

Hiccup had been banned from visiting the dragons unless Viggo or Ryker were with him, but that did not exactly put a dent in the lad’s excursions as Viggo had a difficult time resisting his pleas. The boy always made a beeline straight for the Night Fury and Viggo was becoming concerned as, once they landed, the dragon would be auctioned off along with the others.

After a couple of days, he decided to broach the topic with the lad, hoping that he would be able to help the boy understand. “Hiccup, we need to speak.”

“About what,” he replied, looking up from his drawing.

“About the Night Fury.”

The lad’s eyes lit up and he raced to Viggo’s side. “Toothless? Can we go visit him now?”

This was going to be a lot harder than he thought. “Hiccup, do you remember, what we told you about the dragons on this ship?”

“That I can’t see them without you or Ryker,” he recalled.

“Yes, but that was not quite what I meant,” Viggo said. “The sale of dragons and their…byproducts is how our tribe stays afloat. Without that, we would not have enough gold to keep everyone warm and fed.” Hiccup nodded his understanding, but he was too passive for Viggo to believe that the boy had grasped the entirety of what he was saying. “When we return to Tulva, all the dragons on this ship will be sold,” he clarified, “even the Night Fury.”

At that, a look of horror swept over the lad’s face. “But Toothless is my best friend! You can’t sell my friend!”

“Hiccup, it is not so simple as that-”

“You can’t sell him,” he screamed, stomping his foot. “You can’t!” He had barely finished his outburst when he flew out the door.

Viggo took chase, but the boy was as slippery as an eel and did not stop until he had squeezed through the bars of the Night Fury’s cage and thrown his arms around the dragon, sobs wracking his small body.

The hunter was mentally kicking himself for not nipping this in the bud sooner, but who would have thought a child would grow so incredibly attached to a dragon? Viggo realized that the Night Fury was probably the first friend the boy had made around his own age, but it was a dragon! It didn’t matter to Hiccup, though, as was made clear by the lad’s reaction. What was even more incredible was that the Night Fury seemed to be trying to comfort him.

Viggo stepped forward, hoping to talk things out in a calm and rational manner, but the dragon was quick to growl at him, clearly having come to the conclusion that he was the reason Hiccup was upset. 

Defeated, Viggo sunk to the floor and waited until the lad’s sobs lessened in intensity before softly calling the boy’s name.

“No,” Hiccup muttered into the dragon’s neck. “If Toothless has to leave, then I’m going with him.”

“But what about me? Are we not friends, too?” Hiccup peeked out at that, and seeing that he might have found a way to reach the lad, Viggo continued, “I would miss you quite a bit if you were to leave.”

Hiccup sniffed, dragging his sleeve across his nose. “You would?”

Viggo nodded solemnly, shocked to realize just how true that statement was.

“B-but what about Toothless,” Hiccup stammered.

And that was the big question, was it not?

“He would miss me, too,” Hiccup said quietly as he fondled the dragon’s ears, the Night Fury crooning sadly, seemingly in agreement.

Viggo sighed, feeling well and truly stuck between a rock and a hard place. He had come to care for Hiccup and found himself loathe to break the boy’s heart, but that dragon alone would bring in enough to feed their tribe all winter. It was not so easy to be practical, though, when there were twin sets of pleading green eyes staring at you.

He had a feeling he was going to regret this, and he had no idea how he was going to explain this decision to his grandfather, but after doing some quick calculations, he believed that the pros would outweigh the cons. After all, Hiccup had such a way with the dragons. He kept them happy and made handling them appear so easy. No restraints or weapons were needed, leaving the dragons in prime condition to sell. If he made this one concession, allowing Hiccup to keep his Night Fury friend, then perhaps the lad may be willing to continue assisting with the other dragons.

“How about we come to an agreement,” Viggo suggested.

Hiccup’s eyes narrowed as he warily asked, “What kind of agreement?”

“If you and…Toothless can prove that he will be well-behaved,” he began, “I will do my best to ensure he is not sold.”

The little boy’s brow furrowed as he tilted his head. “It’s not up to you?”

“I would need to gain my grandfather’s approval,” Viggo shared, watching as the boy mulled over his proposition.

“What would we need to do,” Hiccup queried cautiously.

“I will allow you to let the Night Fury out of his cage during the day,” Viggo informed him. “He is not to attack anyone or try to escape. If all goes well, then I will allow him to be without the muzzle, but he must listen to you and not cause any trouble. No fires, no biting or clawing. Do I make myself clear?”

Hiccup nodded eagerly before excitedly turning to the dragon. “Did you hear that, Toothless? If you’re good, you can stay with me!”

The Night Fury let out a short shriek, which Viggo was surprised to see Hiccup mimic. He thought it was strange, but was about to brush it off when the boy did it again. “Hiccup, what was that noise you just made?”

“What noise,” he asked, a confused look on his face.

Was the lad even aware of what he had just done? “It sounded just like your Night Fury friend,” Viggo supplied, and the boy seemed to understand what he meant.

“Oh, you mean this,” Hiccup said before shrieking again, the Night Fury picking up the refrain.

“Yes,” Viggo responded. “What was that?”

“That’s how Toothless says he’s happy,” Hiccup grinned, contentedly turning back to his friend.

But as Viggo repeated the boy’s answer in his mind, he began to wonder… “What do you mean says?”

“Dragons can speak too,” Hiccup declared like it was the most normal thing in the world.

Chapter Text

Viggo’s head spun as he thought of all the times Hiccup had spoken of the dragons telling him things. He had chalked it up to the child’s imagination, but it seemed that the boy had been completely serious. How much the lad truly understood was yet to be determined, but Viggo was eager to find out. “Come along, Hiccup,” he called, getting to his feet and gesturing for the boy to come out of the Night Fury’s cage.

“But what about Toothless,” he said, a hint of confusion on his face.

“We will come back for him, I promise,” Viggo assured him, “but first, I want to discuss what you said, away from the dragons.”

Hiccup’s brow furrowed. “What I said?”

“Yes, about the dragons speaking,” he clarified.

“Well of course they do,” Hiccup commented as if that should have been obvious.

“And you can understand them,” Viggo pressed.

The boy shuffled his feet before admitting, “A little bit…”

Viggo knelt in front of the cage door, catching the lad’s gaze. “Hiccup,” he said earnestly. “If this is true, then it may help me persuade my grandfather to let you keep Toothless.”

The boy tilted his head. “Why would it make a difference?”

“Because having someone who can understand the dragons aid us in our work would be an immense help,” Viggo explained.

“It would,” Hiccup asked, not seeming to understand how unique and valuable his skill was.

“Yes,” Viggo confirmed. “If someone with those skills were willing to help us, my grandfather would do everything in his power to keep that person happy, even if that meant allowing them to keep a very rare and expensive dragon.”

Hiccup’s eyes lit up, realizing what Viggo was implying.

“But this is a one time deal,” he added. “We cannot let you keep every dragon you become friends with.”

“I feel bad for the other dragons,” Hiccup faltered, “but if Toothless could stay with me…” He trailed off, reaching out to stroke the Night Fury’s head.

Viggo could see that the lad was tempted and would probably be willing to accept this new deal, but there was something that needed to be accomplished first. “I would need to see proof, though.”

“How do I do that?”

“That is what I would like to determine,” Viggo remarked. “But I would prefer to discuss this away from the dragons so their reactions will be genuine. Now, come along.” He held out a hand, waiting for Hiccup to slip back through the bars.

The boy made it about halfway to the cage door before pausing and looking back at the Night Fury. “But we’ll be back?”

“We will,” Viggo promised, “and very soon.”

“Okay,” Hiccup mumbled, coming the rest of the way and taking his hand, letting himself be led out of the hold and to a quiet corner of the deck.

Viggo lifted him up and set him on a barrel, the higher perch seeming to delight the small boy. Getting back to business, Viggo asked, “Considering how this whole conversation began, am I correct in assuming you can speak the dragon’s language as well?

“A-a few words,” he stammered, glancing down nervously.

Once again, the lad’s reaction pulled on Viggo’s heartstrings. The poor boy clearly thought he was going to get in trouble, though whether it was for being able to speak like a dragon or because of his limited knowledge, he was not sure. Regardless, he needed to reassure the boy before they went any further. “Hiccup, would you please look at me?”

The boy slowly raised his head, eventually meeting Viggo’s gaze with trepidation.

“There is no need for you to be embarrassed or worried,” he said softly, noticing Hiccup’s skepticism. How anyone could overlook the lad’s bright mind and make him feel this way in the first place was beyond Viggo, but he pushed that thought to the side, for now, giving Hiccup his full attention. “I am merely attempting to obtain a better grasp of the situation so we can work together to come up with a way to test your amazing skills.” He must have chosen the right words as Hiccup seemed to perk up. Deciding to let the boy help determine their course had definitely been the right way to go. Offering a bit of guidance, he inquired, “Could you ask the dragons to do something specific?”

Hiccup shot him a big smile, saying, “If we set out a few things, I can tell Toothless to pick up the fish.”

It was a start. “That is a good idea, but most dragons think with their stomachs,” Viggo disclosed, “so perhaps something else. What other words do you know?”

“Uh,” Hiccup thought for a moment before listing off several words. “Safe, friend, play, danger, help-”

Viggo had to admit, he was surprised by the beginning of what he was sure would turn out to be a decent list. The words seemed to have been chosen with care, showing much insight for a boy who was only six years old. There were two words, though, that caught his attention and he decided to focus on those. “If you call out danger, will the dragons react?”

Hiccup stopped in the middle of his list and nodded emphatically.

“And saying ‘safe’ afterward,” Viggo prompted.

“They’ll calm down,” Hiccup replied happily.

“Then let’s try that,” Viggo suggested, helping the boy off the barrel and leading him back toward where the dragons were kept, stopping just short of that area of the hold. “Now, no signals, and stay in the corridor where the dragons can not see you.”

Hiccup nodded his understanding and waited until Viggo was standing in the center of the cages before letting forth what seemed to be a panicked roar.

The dragons‘ reactions were immediate. Every single one was instantly on edge, their gaze darting every which way as talons and spines were flexed. But the Night Fury’s reaction was the most pronounced as he seemed to be attempting to escape from his cage.

Having seen enough, Viggo gave the signal to Hiccup, who then let out another roar, this one seeming more friendly, if that was possible. As the boy had predicted all the dragons calmed down, though they were still a little wary.

Hiccup scampered to his side, but then kept going, making a beeline for the Night Fury. Following in the boy’s wake, Viggo asked him what the dragons were saying now that their little experiment was complete.

The lad was silent for a moment, as he listened to all the different noises, eventually saying, “I think they’re confused, and Toothless is worried because he recognized that it was my voice.” He nuzzled the Night Fury, the dragon happily returning the affectionate gesture.

As Viggo watched the exchange, he decided to bring up the question that had been hovering in the back of his mind. “Hiccup?”

“Hmm?”

“Was this part of the reason your tribe was not kind to you,” he gently inquired.

“What do you mean,” Hiccup asked casually, belying Viggo’s supposition.

Still, he was curious how the boy’s people had reacted to this astounding skill. “Did your old tribe not like that you were friends with the dragons?”

“Oh, I only became friends with them once I left,” he shared nonchalantly. “There was a very nice dragon who kept me company in the caves on Berserker Island.” Hiccup turned to him and quickly added, “Can we let Toothless out now?”

Viggo held back a chuckle at the abrupt change in topic. “I suppose so, but he must behave,” he warned.

“He will,” Hiccup assured him eagerly.

With that settled, Viggo released the cage door, Hiccup promptly running out with the Night Fury on his heels, the two of them heading straight for the deck. Viggo followed behind them at a leisurely pace, trusting the child more than he would have originally thought.

Of course, not everyone was exactly pleased with his decision to let the offspring of lightning and death itself have free rein over the ship, even if the dragon was still muzzled.

“Was this your idea or his,” Ryker grumbled, meeting him at the hatch leading to the deck.

“Mine actually,” Viggo confessed, “though compromise would be a more fitting term.”

Ryker shook his head and turned around, Viggo following him to the railing of the ship where they watched the boy and his dragon play.

After a few minutes of silence, Ryker observed, “He’s getting too attached.”

“I realize that,” Viggo acknowledged, “but though the Night Fury would line our pockets well, he is also a valuable bargaining chip in obtaining Hiccup’s assistance with the dragons.”

“It is worth it though?”

“He understands the dragons, Ryker.”

His brother waved his hand dismissively. “He has a wild imagination, I’ll grant you that, but-”

“I am serious,” Viggo declared. “He spoke to them by mimicking their roars and they understood. From what I could gather, he can not have been learning their language for too long. He is not even aware of how rare his skill is, but just think of how much easier he could make things.”

Ryker was silent for a moment, pondering over the possibilities. “You really think Grandfather will go for it?”

“I think it is worth a try,” he responded.

Chapter Text

Over the next few days, Viggo was pleased to see that the Night Fury was behaving tolerably well. True, he was a little rambunctious, but he was still young, and considering how active Hiccup was…well, at least they helped to tire each other out, for which he could only be thankful. Of course, there were still some issues as the crew adapted to having a dragon roaming free on the ship, but, overall, everything was progressing satisfactorily.

That is until one day when Viggo escorted the two youngsters to the deck and Toothless scooped Hiccup onto his back, leaping into the air and flying straight up as fast as an arrow.

“Hiccup-” Viggo cut himself off mid-yell as he realized he did not know the boy’s full name. He would need to ask the lad later, but for now, his main objective was to get the two of them back on the ship. “Hiccup! You get back here right now,” he shouted as the Night Fury corkscrewed around the ship accompanied by Hiccup’s joyous laughter.

“And if he doesn’t, what do you propose to do then,” his brother queried. Viggo’s only answer was to glare at him, to which Ryker threw his hands up in defeat. “I was just asking.”

Fortunately, Hiccup had convinced the Night Fury to return to the ship, and Viggo rushed to his side, more than relieved to find that the boy appeared to be none the worse for wear other than being rather windblown.

“Hiccup what were you thinking?!”

Hiccup flinched, and Viggo felt a momentary flash of guilt. He hadn’t meant to yell at the lad, but what he had done was incredibly foolhardy and Viggo had been more than concerned over his safety.

“It was Toothless’ idea,” Hiccup protested, pointing at the Night Fury, who barked in offense.

“You did not appear to be complaining or caught unawares,” Viggo pointed out, his eyes narrowing.

“Well,” Hiccup hedged, “Toothless may have asked me if I wanted to and it was really fun.”

Viggo sighed and knelt down to the boy’s level. “Hiccup, do you remember the deal?”

He nodded solemnly and began ticking off the list on his fingers. “No attacking. No fires or biting or clawing. But you didn’t say anything about no flying,” he stated innocently.

“He has you there, brother,” Ryker smirked, thoroughly enjoying the interaction.

Viggo chose to ignore his brother, focusing instead on Hiccup. “It is not safe,” he said emphatically. “What if you had fallen?”

“Toothless would have caught me,” Hiccup automatically responded.

Considering how devoted the two were to each other, Viggo supposed that it would have been true, but he was not about to put it to the test. “No flying,” he stated firmly, but when Hiccup’s face fell, he found himself wavering. “At least for now,” he amended, bringing a hopeful look to the boy’s face. “If we can determine a way to make it safer, then I might reconsider my decision.”

Hiccup nodded eagerly and Viggo was sure it would not be long before the boy was full of ideas, but before they started making plans, he was intent on filling in one of the gaps in his knowledge. “As I watched in fear that you were going to fall to your death,” he looked at Hiccup pointedly, the lad having the grace to blush guiltily, “I realized I have never learned your full name. What is it?”

The boy scrunched up his nose and mumbled something under his breath, but for the life of him, Viggo could not make out what it had been.

“What was that?”

“Do I have to tell you,” Hiccup queried, scuffing the deck with his boot and refusing to make eye contact.

“I suppose not,” Viggo acknowledged, “but why would you prefer not to tell me?”

“I don’t like it,” Hiccup revealed.

Considering the boy’s first name, Viggo could not exactly blame him, but surely the rest of his name could not be worse. “I promise that if you choose to tell me, I will not use it,” he offered.

The lad deliberated for a moment before saying, “Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III.”

Viggo tried not to react as he had clearly been wrong. “That is quite a mouthful.”

Hiccup nodded miserably before asking, “Can I go now?”

“Yes, go on,” Viggo said, getting to his feet as he watched the Night Fury attempt to lift his friend’s spirits. It did not take long before the two were scampering about the deck, but there was something that Viggo could not quite shake. Oswald had not said a word about where the boy was from, but… “Haddock,” he turned to Ryker. “Does that name sound familiar, brother?”

“I think it belongs to the Chief of Berk,” he replied.

“That would make sense,” Viggo reasoned, “as they are the closest to Berserker Island and would most likely be allies.”

“I thought Hiccup was bad, but Horrendous?!” Ryker shook his head. “What were his parents thinking?”

“It is even worse when you think about it.” At his brother’s questioning glance, he explained, “There were two more before him.”

At that realization, Ryker snarled. “Let’s never make an agreement with Berk.”

“I could not agree with you more.”

-o0o-

As Tulva appeared on the horizon, Viggo began to question if he had done the right thing. Toothless had proven that he could be well-behaved…when he wanted to be, but convincing his grandfather that keeping the Night Fury as a pet would be best for the tribe in the long run…well, that was going to be an uphill battle.

As they came into port, Viggo approached the boy, hoping to give him an assignment to help keep him busy. “Hiccup, can you help Ryker with the unloading of the dragons,” he requested. “They stay much calmer when you are around.”

“Okay,” he cheerfully agreed. “Come on Toothless.”

And this was the part he was dreading. “About that,” he said. “Toothless will need to be caged as well.” The look of betrayal on Hiccup’s face cut him to the quick.

“But you said-”

“I know I did,” he acknowledged, kneeling and lightly laying his hands on the boy’s shoulders, “and I meant every word of it. But while the crew on this ship has become somewhat used to your rambunctious Night Fury friend, the rest of our tribe will not react well if they see him bounding alongside you.” Hiccup nodded reluctantly and was about to turn and leave, but Viggo held him there as there was one more item they needed to discuss. “Do you remember what else I said?”

“That letting Toothless stay wasn’t up to you,” he mumbled.

“Yes,” Viggo confirmed. “I am off to speak with my grandfather now to attempt to convince him that it will be worthwhile to let you keep Toothless. I promise I will do my best, but until Grandfather approves, Toothless will need to stay with the other dragons.”

“I don’t like this,” Hiccup complained.

“I know, Hiccup, and I don’t like separating you from your friend either,” he confessed, “but we have to get my grandfather’s permission first.”

Hiccup tilted his head, seemingly putting the pieces of some puzzle together in his mind. “Is your grandfather an important man?”

“He is Chief of our tribe,” Viggo shared.

“Oh,” he said, his shoulders drooping.

“What is wrong, Hiccup?”

“Is he- is he a good Chief,” the boy asked skeptically.

Viggo realized that the boy was probably thinking about his own father and how he had treated him. But not all Chiefs were like that, as was proven when Oswald gave the boy a helping hand. Wanting to reassure the boy, Viggo replied, “My grandfather can be stern, but he is a fair man. He will not see you sent away.”

“But he might send Toothless away,” Hiccup maintained.

“And you would want to go with him,” Viggo supplied, the lad nodding his agreement. “I promise, Hiccup, I will do everything within my power to convince him.”

Hiccup stared at him for a moment, seeming to gauge his sincerity before flinging his arms around him. Viggo caught the boy, wrapping his arms around the lad and holding him close as Hiccup whispered, “Thank you.”

“You are welcome,” he responded before giving the boy a slight nudge toward the hold. “Now, be a good helper for Ryker.”

“I will,” Hiccup nodded bravely despite the tears that looked like they were about to fall.

As Hiccup and his Night Fury friend walked away, Viggo asked his brother to keep an eye on them.

“Aye,” Ryker agreed. “Watch yourself as well and don’t let Grandfather trip you up.”

“I will not,” Viggo assured him, shooting a glance at Hiccup as he disappeared into the hold. “Too much depends on this.”

Chapter Text

Viggo took a deep breath to calm his nerves before entering his family’s home. He knew his grandfather would have heard of their docking and would be waiting there, ready to hear the reports.

Sure enough, the elderly man was sitting in front of the fire, expectantly watching the door as Viggo stepped in. “Hello, Grandfather,” he greeted him. “It is good to see you again.”

“I trust your trip was successful,” he questioned.

“Very,” Viggo replied, sitting down and immediately launching into the reports as his grandfather was not a patient man. He detailed their trip, including their catches and sales, relieved that his grandfather was pleased with their dealings. It would hopefully leave him more receptive to what he was about to say. “There is one other matter.”

“And what is that,” his grandfather inquired.

“We brought a young boy back with us at Oswald’s request,” Viggo shared, unsuccessfully trying to gauge the older man’s reaction.

“And why would you do that?”

“He is a smart lad and would be an asset to our tribe,” Viggo supplied.

His grandfather was no fool, though, and was quick to see that he was hiding something. “What are you not telling me?”

“I do not know the whole story,” he revealed, “I doubt even Oswald did, but suffice it to say that a member of the boy’s family wanted him dead in a bid for power, and his father, who was Chief, could care less. Two concerned members of the tribe faked the lad’s death and smuggled him off the island. Oswald believed that our tribe would be able to give him the best chance as the boy thirsts for knowledge, something most other tribes do not value.”

Viggo’s grandfather nodded thoughtfully. “And how old did you say the boy is?”

“He is six,” he answered.

“I suppose we can find a family to take him in,” his grandfather proposed, eyeing him suspiciously. “Unless you have something to say on the matter?”

He should have realized that he would never be able to introduce this topic subtly. His grandfather had always been extremely perceptive. “Well, sir…”

“You have grown attached,” the older man stated baldly, saving him the trouble.

“I have,” he confirmed.

“I already raised you and your brother after your parents died,” his grandfather pointed out. “I will not be raising another child.”

“I realize that, sir,” Viggo acknowledged. “I was thinking of taking him in myself, if you did not object to his joining us here. I think Ryker would be willing to lend a hand as well,” he added.

His grandfather raised an eyebrow. “This boy must be something special to make you consider this. I will admit, you have intrigued me.”

“He is an intriguing child,” Viggo responded honestly. “His talents are quite unique.”

“Are they now? How so,” his grandfather prodded.

“It seems he has been teaching himself the language of the dragons,” Viggo divulged. Seeing the disbelief on his grandfather’s face, he was quick to add, “I know it sounds far-fetched, but after seeing him interact with the dragons on the ship, I am convinced it is true. This batch of dragons is by far the healthiest we have brought back due to his keeping their spirits up.”

“We do not need good spirits,” the older man growled. “We need gold to keep our people safe and fed.”

“But when a dragon is in better condition, they will sell for a higher price,” Viggo reasoned. He knew his grandfather was aware of this, but it did not hurt to remind him. “We also had fewer injuries this trip because the dragons are so calm around the lad. As we speak, he is assisting Ryker with unloading the cargo,” he explained, hoping it would help sway his grandfather as he knew the old man valued a hard worker.

The silence seemed to stretch between them until, eventually, his grandfather spoke. “If you deem him fit to assist, then I have no objection. He may stay here as long as he proves himself useful, but do not think that I am unaware that you are working around to asking for something else. Spit it out.”

“The boy has become rather attached to one of the dragons,” Viggo began. “It is his best friend.”

His grandfather stared at him warily. “What are you suggesting?”

“That we do not sell it and let him keep it,” Viggo advocated.

“Balderdash!”

“I assure you, sir, it is not,” he countered. “While at sea, we had a trial run and, despite all expectations, the dragon behaved and listened to the boy. I would not be suggesting this course if I thought it would bring harm to the tribe.”

“And why are you so insistent on this course,” his grandfather pressed.

“The boy is so attached to the dragon that if we were to sell it, I am sure he would find a way to go with it,” Viggo disclosed. “He has already been through so much in his life, having been mistreated and neglected. He was so desperate for friendship that he looked for it in a dragon and seems to have found it. I know that it goes against all tradition,” he admitted, “but I truly think that it is the right decision to make. The boy could be of great use to us, but only if he does not try to follow his best friend.” Wanting to drive his point home, he continued, “You know as well as I do that some of our buyers are rather unsavory and I would hate for an innocent child to wind up in a questionable situation.”

Viggo could see that he had stuck a chord as his grandfather was stroking his beard in thought. “Are you suggesting the dragon be allowed to roam free?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you say it has proven itself tractable,” his grandfather inquired skeptically.

“Yes,” he replied, though that was stretching the truth a bit. Toothless could behave…as long as he wanted to.

“Which dragon is it?”

And this was the moment of truth. “The Night Fury”

“No,” his grandfather declared emphatically. “Absolutely not!”

“But, sir-”

“No, and that is final,” he proclaimed. “We can not allow one of the most valuable dragons we have ever caught to become some boy’s pet.”

Viggo was about to attempt to persuade his grandfather to change his mind when he heard a slight whimper behind him. He turned around to find Hiccup peeking around Ryker’s leg, a look of utmost betrayal on his face.

“You promised,” he whispered.

“Hiccup, I-” But Viggo got no further before the lad had run out the door. The conversation with his grandfather was not finished, but it could wait. ”If you will excuse me, sir, I am needed elsewhere,” he said, dashing out the door in pursuit of the runaway boy.

Chapter Text

As he scanned the area around their home, Viggo was glad to see that Ryker had joined him. Unfortunately, though, Hiccup seemed to have disappeared into thin air. “Where do you think he went?”

Ryker snorted. “I’ll give you one guess.”

Toothless. Of course that was where Hiccup would go. Turning to his brother, Viggo gestured for him to lead the way as he was not sure where the Night Fury was being held.

Ryker set a brisk pace as he said, “I take it Grandfather was not very receptive?”

Viggo sighed. “I think he was slowly coming around to the idea until he found out it was the Night Fury that Hiccup had become attached to.” He ran his hand through his hair in frustration. “Could he not have befriended a more common dragon? That would have made this so much easier.”

“You know, when you look at that boy and his Night Fury friend, they are very similar,” Ryker commented.

“I know it very well,” Viggo grumbled, thinking mostly of the duo’s boundless energy. “I just do not know how we are to convince him to leave Toothless’ cage.”

Ryker was silent for a moment before asking, “It’s a matter of gold, isn’t it?”

“Selling the Night Fury,” he clarified. At his brother’s nod, he responded, “Yes. You know how Grandfather feels about keeping the coffers full.”

“I have some gold saved up,” Ryker offered, causing Viggo to look at him in shock. His brother shrugged. “What can I say? The lad grows on you.”

Viggo smiled, grateful for his brother’s support. “That he does,” he agreed. “I have some savings as well, but I do not know if it would be enough… There is also the matter of having a roof over our head,” he pointed out. “After this debacle, we may need to build our own hut as I do not know if Grandfather will allow us to stay.”

“Felling trees is easy enough,” Ryker observed casually, bumping shoulders with Viggo. “We’ll manage,” he assured him. “Let’s find Hiccup first, then we can see about formulating a plan B.”

He nodded and followed his brother into the underground dragon pens, worried about Hiccup, though he did not say as much out loud. The boy was incredibly smart, never forgetting a word he was told, so Viggo was fairly sure the lad would have memorized the way back to his friend. But Hiccup had barely been on Tulva for an hour and if he had gotten lost on his way here, there was no telling where he might end up.

When the Night Fury’s pen came into view, there was no sign of Hiccup, but considering how territorial and defensive Toothless was acting, Viggo was positive the boy was hiding underneath his friend.

“Hiccup,” he called out softly. “I know you are there.”

“Go away,” was the boy’s watery response.

“I will not,” he proclaimed, approaching the cage only for the Night Fury to snarl at him. “Toothless, I promise I do not mean you any harm. I only want to help Hiccup.” The dragon seemed to calm down at that admission and Viggo unlocked the cage, passing the key to Ryker before stepping inside. He sat on the ground next to Toothless, the dragon inching back slightly to reveal Hiccup, curled up in a ball and crying his eyes out. Viggo gently scooped the boy up in his arms, sitting him on his lap and holding him close as the tears flowed.

Ryker hesitated but a moment before joining them, closing the cage door behind him. The brothers’ eyes met as Viggo tried to soothe the bereft child with very little success. “I am so sorry, Hiccup,” he murmured. “You came in at the worst possible time.”

“But it didn’t work, did it,” Hiccup sniffed.

“Convincing my grandfather, not exactly,” Viggo admitted. “If it had been a less valuable dragon, I think he might have allowed it. But do not lose hope,” he added. “Ryker and I have an idea, though I am not sure if it will work.”

“What is it,” Hiccup queried, seeming to calm down a little.

“Our grandfather’s main concern seems to be the lack of income if we don’t sell your friend,” Ryker explained, scooting closer. “We plan to see if he’ll let us buy him for you.”

Hiccup’s wide-eyed gaze swung back and forth between them. “You would do that,” he asked incredulously.

“We do not want to lose you, Hiccup,” Viggo confessed, holding the boy a little tighter, “but we realize that you feel the same way about Toothless. I cannot guarantee it will work as our savings would probably not equal what this fine dragon would bring in,” he said as he reached over to stroke the Night Fury’s head, “but we are willing to try.”

“I-I don’t know what to say,” Hiccup stammered, gazing at them in astonishment.

“I do.”

Viggo’s gaze darted to the cage door, surprised to see his grandfather standing there.

“This dragon really means that much to you, boy,” the older man inquired.

Hiccup wiped his nose on his sleeve and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“And you two are willing to give up all your savings to keep these two together,” their grandfather pressed, his gaze piercing through the brothers.

“I believe that is what we just expressed, sir,” Viggo replied, holding his breath as he dared not hope that his grandfather was actually considering changing his mind.

The occupants of the cage held entirely still as the older man watched them, a shrewd look in his eyes. “I have never seen a dragon behave like this,” he acknowledged, “but if you truly can reach all dragons in the same way, then perhaps I could see fit to let this Night Fury stay.”

Hiccup sat up a little straighter and said, “Dragons are very nice, sir, if you just give them a chance.”

Viggo noticed a slight twitch of his grandfather’s mouth before the man said, “I will give you a chance, Hiccup, as well as this dragon, and we will see how things proceed.”

“Really,” Hiccup exclaimed hopefully.

“Yes, really,” he confirmed, taking another look at their little group. “I expect you boys to clean up and be home in time for dinner. Do not keep me waiting.” And with that he left, leaving the brothers wondering who that was and what he had done with their grandfather.

“Did that really just happen,” Viggo asked, still in shock.

Ryker slowly nodded, declaring, “Hiccup, I think you can work miracles with more than just the dragons.”

The little boy beamed at the words of praise before climbing off Viggo’s lap and throwing his arms around Toothless’ neck. Viggo could not help but smile and neither could Ryker. It seemed their family just got a little bit bigger.

Chapter Text

After removing Toothless’ muzzle, the small group left the underground dragon pens, stopping briefly at their hut to grab a few things before heading toward the south side of the island.

At first, Hiccup was content to ride on Toothless’ back, but after a few minutes, he piped up, asking, “Where are we going?”

“To bathe,” Ryker answered, readjusting the basket on his back.

“Why?”

“Because we have been on a ship for far too long,” Viggo responded, “and a bath is most definitely overdue.”

Hiccup’s brow furrowed. “You don’t bathe at home?”

“We have a hot spring that is much more convenient,” Viggo shared, ruffling the boy’s hair.

“A hot spring,” Hiccup repeated, tilting his head. “What’s that?”

“A body of naturally warm water,” Ryker supplied.

“So, a warm lake?”

“Basically,” Ryker shrugged.

The topic seemed to interest Hiccup as the next words out of his mouth were, “How does it get warm?”

Viggo remembered being just as curious about it when he was younger and doing extensive research to understand it. He explained it to Hiccup in as much detail as he thought the six-year-old could handle, the lad continuing to ask questions even after they arrived and were stripping down to their smallclothes.

Ryker did not find the topic as fascinating as they did, though, and was quick to scoop the boy up and toss him over his shoulder. “Come along, Hiccup. Your questions can wait for later.”

Stepping into the hot spring, Ryker set the lad down in the shallows before heading off to the slightly deeper water. Hiccup tried to follow him, but when he stepped off the slight natural shelf, he started floundering. Before Viggo or Ryker could reach him, Toothless had dived in and pushed him back toward the shallow water, both brothers instantly by his side.

“Hiccup, are you alright,” Viggo inquired, resting one hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“I-I think so,” he stammered, still trying to catch his breath from his scare.

“Did you never learn how to swim,” Ryker asked.

The lad reluctantly shook his head, shocking both brothers as it was a skill they had learned by the time they were five. Viggo knew Hiccup had been neglected, but to not teach the child such an important life skill, something that could potentially save his life…it just brought home how dire the boy’s situation had been.

He could tell that his brother was thinking along similar lines as he said, “Well, I guess we better start teaching you then. After all, we don’t want you drowning.”

And thus, their trip to the hot spring turned into an impromptu swimming lesson. The brothers switched off, taking turns to offer instruction while the other washed, though it was all made harder by the Night Fury playfully splashing around them.

Eventually, though, they were all clean and Hiccup had learned a few very important basics about swimming. They would have to plan for more lessons in the future, but at least the boy knew enough to keep him alive until someone could get to him.

As they dressed in the clean clothes they had brought with them, Viggo thought that he would need to see about procuring some new items for the boy as the clothing he had brought with him was horribly worn and did not fit him at all. Hiccup did not seem to notice though, happily rambling on about how much fun he had.

“I am glad you found it pleasant,” Viggo smiled, “though I do believe Toothless enjoyed himself a little too much.”

Hiccup just laughed and pulled himself onto the Night Fury’s back, ready for the trip back to the village.

By the time they arrived at their hut, Hiccup had grown rather quiet. Viggo was worried that it might be because the boy was a little wary after his initial introduction to the brothers’ grandfather, but looking closer, he could see that the lad was simply tired. It had been quite a long day, full of physical exertion and emotional upheaval, so Viggo was not surprised when Hiccup fell asleep halfway through dinner. He took the boy up to his room and tucked him in, absentmindedly thinking that he would need to see about commissioning a bed for the lad. Viggo tidied up a bit before deciding to turn in himself, thinking that tomorrow was sure to be just as busy, though in a different way.

He was proven right when Grandfather called for an assembly the next morning to make an announcement about Hiccup joining their tribe along with his draconic companion. Reactions were mixed, but the situation was made easier due to the fact that the Stormhearts were not unused to dealing with dragons. Yes, having one living amongst them was not what they were accustomed to, but Viggo was sure they would adapt, especially once they saw the benefits.

With the announcement made, he went back to the house to collect Hiccup and Toothless, relieved that they had stayed put without causing any damage. As he showed them around their new home, one building in particular caught Hiccup’s eye.

“Is that a forge,” he inquired excitedly. At Viggo’s confirmation the boy was quick to ask if they could go there next.

Viggo was happy to comply, leading the way over and greeting their resident blacksmith. “Hello, Elias. How are you today?”

“I’m doing just fine,” the brawny man replied, turning to greet them as he wiped his hands on a rag. “It’s good to see you back home.”

“It is good to be home,” Viggo acknowledged.

“And who is this little fellow,” Elias asked, turning his attention to the boy peeking over his counter.

“I’m Hiccup and this is Toothless,” he said as the Night Fury’s head popped up beside his. Pointing to the hearth, he commented, “Your metal is getting too hot.”

“And why would you say that,” Elias queried, clearly intrigued.

“It’s a funny color,” Hiccup observed.

“That it is,” he conceded. “I suppose you are used to seeing a blacksmith work with iron.” Hiccup nodded, prompting Elias to explain, “This is a special blend of iron, thus the ‘funny’ color.”

“What makes it special,” Hiccup asked inquisitively, trying to get a better look at it. Viggo scooped him up and sat him on top of the counter, allowing him a better vantage point.

“This is Dragon Proof Metal,” Elias shared, causing the boy to tilt his head in confusion.

“Why would you need that?”

Elias smiled at the lad and replied, “So that the dragons do not break out of their cages.”

“You could just ask them nicely,” he suggested.

“Not everyone has your gift, Hiccup,” Viggo smiled as he ruffled the boy’s hair. “I am curious, though, what else can you tell me about the forge?”

Viggo was not prepared for the long list of facts and smithing methods that started pouring out of the boy’s mouth. He shot a quick glance over at Elias to find the smith in a similar state of surprise.

When Hiccup eventually paused for breath, Elias said, “I’m quite impressed, lad. You’re such a small thing, how do you know so much about smithing?”

“Gobber would let me sit in the forge while he worked,” Hiccup shared. “He said I was too little to help, but he didn’t mind telling me what he was doing as he worked.”

“And you remembered all that,” Elias pressed.

The boy nodded. “It was interesting,” he declared as his gaze wandered over the forge.

Viggo could tell that this was something Hiccup was interested in, and it would do the boy good to learn a trade. It also helped that Elias seemed to have taken a liking to the lad. “Is this something you would like to learn, Hiccup?” At the boy’s eager nod, he said, “Maybe once you are a little bit older, Elias might consider taking you on as an apprentice.”

Hiccup’s eyes lit up as he turned to the blacksmith. “Would you?”

“I just might,” Elias responded merrily. “Until then, you’re welcome to come around any time you like, kid. You and your friend,” he amended, nodding toward Toothless, “as long as he doesn’t cause any trouble.”

“He would never,” Hiccup declared, shaking his head solemnly.

Viggo thought that was a bit of an overstatement, but he knew the Night Fury would never cause trouble on purpose, especially if it risked something that made Hiccup happy. And learning to smith was assuredly one of those things.

As they left the forge, Hiccup happily rambling about all he could learn, Viggo found that things were going quite well so far. The village was not in an uproar, and even his grandfather seemed to have mellowed slightly in the past day. He also felt lighter and even Ryker seemed to have softened. Glancing down at Hiccup, he could not help but think that maybe this small boy was exactly what they had needed.

Chapter Text

Heddi swung her thick, red braid over her shoulder, busying herself with copying over the latest batch of reports in her neat hand. She was proud to follow family tradition by working in the Archives, but it was sometimes a little too quiet for her tastes. Thus, when she heard the approach of footsteps, she was quick to look up, spying a tiny boy peeking around the door.

“Why, hello there,” she greeted him kindly.

“Hi,” he responded unsurely, still half hiding behind the door.

Heddi had a feeling that this was the lad the Chief’s family had taken in, but there was only one way to be sure. “What is your name,” she asked softly.

“Hiccup,” he replied quietly, proving her assumption correct.

“Why, what a coincidence,” she declared dramatically. “My name starts with an ‘H,’ too.”

“It does,” Hiccup queried, finally stepping around the door.

“Mm-hmm,” she nodded, her eyes twinkling as if it was some big secret.

“What is it,” Hiccup inquired as he neared her desk.

“Heddi.”

“That’s a pretty name,” he said, smiling up at her.

“Why, thank you, Hiccup,” she grinned back, quite taken with the lad.

He began to look around, asking, “What is this place?”

“This is the Stormheart Archives,” she shared. “This is where we keep all of our tribe’s records and contracts, along with some of our most important books.”

Hiccup’s eyes widened as his gaze wandered over the shelves. “Are you in charge of all of them?”

“Mmm, more like I keep them in order,” she responded.

“That must be a lot of work,” Hiccup observed, seeming quite in awe of what she did.

“It can be,” she admitted, “but I enjoy it. What do you enjoy doing,” she asked, more than curious about this bright little boy.

“I like dragons,” he proclaimed, matching what the Chief had said.

“Do you now?”

Hiccup nodded eagerly. “Would you like to meet one?” Before she had a chance to respond, he was turning back to the doorway. “Toothless,” he called, resulting in a pitch black dragon sticking his snout around the door in much the same way Hiccup had just a few minutes ago. “Can he come in,” he inquired, gazing up at her with his big green eyes. “I promise he’ll be careful.”

Heddi glanced over to the doorway and saw the dragon was perfectly mimicking the lad’s expression. Unable to resist their pleas, she said, “Well, I suppose that would be alright.”

Hiccup beamed and ran over to the dragon. “Toothless, come meet Heddi. She’s very nice,” he exclaimed, shepherding the dragon toward her. It was interesting to note that the dragon seemed just as curious about his surroundings as his friend had.

When they arrived at her side, she decided to treat the dragon just as she would a human, saying, “Hello, Toothless. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

It was clearly the right decision as the dragon rubbed up against her, purring loudly. It was a bit of a shock but left Heddi intrigued as to whether all dragons had this potential to be so friendly or was it a trait exclusive to Night Furies. Or perhaps simply to younger dragons who had less experience of the world.

“Toothless is happy to meet you, too,” the boy remarked, pulling her from her thoughts.

Just then a shout was heard from outside that had the lad freezing.

“Hiccup!”

Said boy started to panic, his eyes darting around as if looking for a way to escape or somewhere to hide. Before he could move, though, Viggo walked in, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Hiccup, there you are,” he murmured. He knelt beside the boy and pulled him into a hug, looking up at her and saying, “I am so sorry, Heddi. I hope he did not disturb you.”

“Not at all,” she replied brightly. “He was just introducing me to his friend.”

“Am I in trouble,” Hiccup whimpered, the fear in his voice catching Heddi by surprise.

Viggo pulled back slightly and looked the boy in the eye as he shook his head. “No, Hiccup. You are not in trouble," he said softly. "I was simply very worried when I turned around and saw that you were not there. Why did you wander off?”

“Me and Toothless got bored,” Hiccup answered hesitantly, still a little bit on edge.

“I only stopped to talk to Lars for a few minutes,” Viggo commented, before ruffling the boy’s hair, “but that would seem like quite a while for the two of you, would it not? I am sorry, Hiccup, but next time, please let me know where you are off to, alright?”

The boy tilted his head. “What if I don’t know where I’m going?”

Heddi had to hold back a giggle at that answer. The lad was definitely about to keep Viggo on his toes and that was quite a feat.

“I suppose we will have to figure that one out together,” Viggo responded as he got to his feet. “You and Toothless go on outside and I will join you in a minute.” As the two scampered out the door, Viggo called after them, “Stay within sight!”

As soon as Hiccup and his dragon disappeared, Heddi was shocked to see Viggo practically deflate. The heir was always so confident and self-assured. Seeing him like this didn’t feel right. “You alright there,” she asked in concern.

“I think I just lost a year off of my life,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair before shaking his head as if to rid his mind of his current train of thought. Turning to her, he held out a stack of parchment. “Here are the reports for our last excursion.”

She accepted the stack, allowing the change of topic for now. “Will you be setting out again?”

“No,” Viggo replied. “We will wait until the last two ships have returned and then make arrangements for an auction, most likely in the next week or two, before closing out our season and helping the tribe make preparations for winter.”

“I will make note of that,” she remarked. “Would you like me to begin working on the manifest for the auction?”

“Yes, please,” Viggo said, moving toward the door. “Thank you, Heddi.”

“Of course. It is my job, after all,” she smiled, hoping to take the sting out of what she was about to say. “And if I might offer a word of advice?”

Viggo glanced back at her, warily nodding for her to continue.

“Don’t smother the boy,” she suggested. “He seems more than capable of taking care of himself, especially with that friend of his.”

“Unfortunately, that has been the case for far too long,” Viggo shared with a sigh. “His past is not a happy one, as you probably gathered from his reaction to me calling his name.” Viggo wrinkled his nose, adding, “I know I overreacted, but I would like to make sure he at least knows the lay of the village before I let him run wild, both for his own sake as well as the sake of the villagers. Speaking of…” He trailed off, gesturing to the door, indicating his need to depart.

“I wish you well,” Heddi offered.

“Thank you. I do believe I will need it,” Viggo smiled wryly before leaving.

Heddi’s eyes lingered on the door, the reports in her hand completely forgotten as her sharp mind replayed her most recent interactions. Hiccup was quite a little darling, though she could see that he would also lead one on a merry chase. Apparently, Viggo had declared himself game, which honestly did not surprise her. Hiccup would present a challenge, something that Viggo had never been able to resist. But at the same time, the little boy had brought out something softer in the man, an openness and kindness that she had not seen before. It made him more…human, she supposed.

Eventually shaking herself out of her thoughts, she resumed her work and resolved to keep an eye on Hiccup in her spare time. After all, living in a house with only men, he would do well to have some kind of feminine influence in his life. And if it allowed her a chance to see how his presence affected the rest of the Grimborns, or even one in particular, well, that would just be an added benefit.

Chapter Text

Viggo had been aware that Hiccup and Toothless’ energy was unmatched, but he had not reckoned on the fact that it was much easier to keep an eye on them aboard a ship compared to in a village. He had never been more panicked in his life than when he realized the small boy had disappeared. Fortunately, he had been able to find him in a matter of minutes, but it left a lasting impact, causing Viggo to be much more alert to the lad’s whereabouts for the rest of the day. Thankfully, throughout their tour of Tulva, that was the only incident.

By the end of the day, Viggo was worn out and was once again wondering if this had been such a good idea, but then he saw the smile on Hiccup’s face and came to the conclusion that it was worth it. He began to lead the way to the Great Hall, knowing that Ryker would have been busy with the guard as it was their first full day back and his grandfather would have been unlikely to cook. It was not that Viggo could not make something for them to eat, but it had been a long day and this would be much easier, at least so he thought.

As they neared the Great Hall, though, Hiccup froze and refused to budge so much as an inch, despite Toothless trying to nudge him along.

Viggo knelt by the boy’s side, patiently saying, “Hiccup, is something wrong?”

The lad’s eyes darted between him and the Great Hall. “I- I don’t-”

Seeing that the boy was having a hard time, Viggo helped him along. “Is it the Great Hall?” Hiccup‘s gaze dropped, which he took as confirmation, asking, “Are you afraid to go inside?”

Hiccup nodded imperceptibly, but Viggo could not discern what was making the boy so wary. “Why,” he gently inquired.

“They might throw me out,” Hiccup mumbled.

His response shocked Viggo, causing him to say, “Why would they do that?”

“I don’t know,” Hiccup shrugged, still refusing to meet his eyes.

How could someone reject a child seeking shelter or food? It was appalling. And then Viggo realized… “Did that happen in your old village?”

Hiccup nodded again, and Viggo was sorely tempted to go and give the lad’s old village what for. “I promise, that will not happen here,” he assured the boy.

“But how can you be sure,” Hiccup fretted.

“Because I will not allow it,” he replied firmly.

“And neither will I,” Ryker added as he joined them, clearly having overheard the last part of their conversation.

Viggo glanced up at his brother and could tell that he was trying not to let his temper get the better of him for Hiccup’s sake, but he recognized that glint in Ryker’s eyes. He was not the only one contemplating harm against Berk.

“Anyone tries to mess with you, they’ll have to deal with me,” Ryker proclaimed, scooping the boy up and setting him on his shoulder before leading their small party into the Great Hall.

Viggo noted that as they walked Hiccup seemed to relax, the friendly smiles on everyone’s faces putting him at ease. Viggo collected their meal, and setting Hiccup’s food in front of him, he said, “I am sure that after all that running you did today, you must be famished.”

“I am hungry,” Hiccup reluctantly admitted, “but I’m used to it.”

“Well, we’re going to have to get you unused to it,” Ryker declared, a flicker of his anger against Berk returning. “You’re too skinny by half.”

Hiccup was quick to polish off his food, looking around the Hall as he ate. Having noticed that the boy’s gaze kept returning to a group of children around his own age, once he finished, Viggo said, “You can go play with the others if you would like to.”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, scooting closer.

Viggo wrapped an arm around the lad. “Hiccup? What’s wrong,” he asked. “I thought you wanted to make friends.”

“I have you and Toothless and Ryker,” Hiccup observed, the Night Fury settling his head on the boy’s lap as he heard his name. The lad stroked the dragon’s head, commenting, “That’s enough.”

Viggo exchanged a glance with his brother, glad that he was not the only one who suspected there was more at play here. “There is something else, though, is there not,” he pressed gently.

“Maybe,” Hiccup wavered.

“I would like to know, so I can help you.”

The silence hung over their table for a moment before Hiccup whispered, “What if they don’t like me?”

If that was all, then there was a simple solution. “You will not know unless you try,” Viggo pointed out.

“Trying hurts,” Hiccup protested, catching his attention.

“How do you mean,” he queried.

Before the boy could answer, though, Ryker took the direct approach. “Hiccup, did the other children in your old village hurt you?”

Hiccup nodded fearfully, making Viggo wonder what else this poor lad had been through.

“Do you know why,” he inquired.

“I think it was because I didn’t grow as fast as them,” Hiccup revealed, “and…and my uncle was mean to me too, so I think my cousin was copying his dad.”

“And no one stepped in,” Ryker prodded, taking the words out of Viggo’s mouth.

“Gobber did, when he saw what was happening,” Hiccup replied, seeming to brighten up just a little.

“Gobber is your blacksmith friend, correct,” Viggo clarified.

Hiccup nodded again. “He took me to Gothi and after that, I spent more time with him. The others didn’t bother me so much then.” Seeming to note their displeasure, he hastily added, “Not all the kids were mean. Some just ignored me. And Ruffnut was nice, but she had to hide it. I think her brother would have hit her if he found out.”

What a bunch of hooligans! He could now better see where Hiccup was coming from, but here on Tulva his fears would be unfounded. “I can understand why you are wary,” he empathized, “but I promise, I will not allow anything like that to happen here. If the other children try to hurt you, tell me and I will take care of it.”

The lad’s brow furrowed. “But isn’t that tattling?”

“No, it’s not,” Ryker chimed in. “It’s asking for help to fight battles that are too big for you to handle on your own.”

Hiccup seemed to understand, but he was still skeptical, as was proven when he repeated his question from earlier. “But what if they don’t like me?”

“I find that highly unlikely,” Viggo responded encouragingly. “How about I go over with you,” he suggested, “and make the introductions? I can even stay nearby if that will put you more at ease.”

“Okay,” Hiccup agreed hesitantly, taking his hand as they walked over and practically gluing himself to Viggo’s side.

As they approached, the four boys and six girls stopped their game, looking over at the newcomer curiously.

“Children, I would like you to meet Hiccup.” Viggo hated how that name would haunt the lad for the rest of his life, but perhaps he would be amenable to changing it. There were a few ways they could go about it, but he would need to give it more thought later. Kneeling next to the boy, he continued. “Hiccup, this is Marjetta, Edvin, Seela, Viivi, Hugo, Ebba, Klaus, Taimi, Carin, and Akseli,” he said, gesturing to each child as he introduced them.

Viivi stepped forward, being the boldest of the bunch, and asked, “Do you want to play with us?”

Hiccup’s gaze flickered to Viggo and he nodded encouragingly.

“O-okay,” the boy stuttered.

Viggo wound up needing to give him a slight nudge to get him going before settling nearby with Toothless curling up at his feet. The dragon looked like he wanted to join in, but until the other children became used to him, it was probably for the best that he remained off to the side.

Thankfully, the children were quick to accept Hiccup among their ranks and it was not long before the lad was sporting a huge grin, happy to have been included, quite possibly for the first time in his life.

Chapter Text

Hiccup had never had the opportunity to play with other children his own age, and to be so readily accepted by them was beyond his wildest dreams. He was thoroughly enjoying himself, but then he caught a glimpse of Toothless watching them wistfully. He felt bad that his best friend was not involved in the fun. The other kids seemed nice though, and they had accepted him readily, so surely, they would not mind one more. When they took a break so everyone could catch their breath, he hesitantly asked, “Can Toothless join us?”

“Who’s Toothless,” Klaus inquired.

“My friend,” Hiccup replied, pointing to where the Night Fury was curled up at Viggo’s feet.

Seela’s brow furrowed. “Are you talking about the dragon?”

“My mom said dragons are dangerous,” Carin added, scooting behind Taimi.

“They can be, if you don’t know how to handle them,” Edvin observed thoughtfully. “That’s what my dad says anyway.”

“Toothless is really nice,” Hiccup assured them. “I promise. And he’s very good at games.”

“The Chief is allowing the dragon to not be caged,” Akseli spoke up, seeming to be the oldest in the group and the one they all looked to for direction, “and Viggo seems okay. Maybe it would be alright.”

“I agree,” Viivi nodded emphatically. “Let the dragon join us.”

With Akseli’s approval and Viivi’s support, the other kids came around rather quickly and Hiccup beckoned Toothless over as he roared, “Play!” As his attention was on the Night Fury racing to his side, he didn’t immediately notice the looks of shock on his new friends’ faces.

“What was that,” Marjetta queried warily.

Viivi was not nearly as affected though and exclaimed, “Are you a dragon, too?”

That caught Hiccup by surprise and he shook his head emphatically. “What? No, of course not.”

“But you sounded just like one,” Viivi pressed.

“I can say a few words in their language,” Hiccup admitted, stroking Toothless’ head, “but I’m still learning.”

“That is so cool,” Viivi declared excitedly.

Her enthusiasm was apparently contagious as Toothless started bounding around the small group. Not wanting to get in any trouble, Hiccup called out for the Night Fury to calm down, the dragon reluctantly obeying.

“What kind of games does he like to play,” Hugo asked, tentatively reaching out a hand for Toothless to sniff.

“He’s very good at tag and chase,” Hiccup responded, “and he likes to play hide and seek.”

“Can he be the seeker,” Taimi inquired curiously.

Hiccup nodded. “Just don’t expect to stay hidden for too long,” he grinned. Seeing Viggo walking their way, Hiccup ran over to him to seek permission. “Is that okay, Viggo? For Toothless to play hide and seek with us?”

The man glanced over the eager faces and said, “I am sure that would be fine. But no licking,” he requested of the Night Fury. “The children’s parents may not like that.”

Toothless grumbled but was willing to accept the condition, which was good as Viivi was already moving forward.

“Is everybody in,” she asked. The other children nodded, though Ebba seemed a little wary of the dragon in their midst. Viivi must have noticed it, too, as she suggested they hide together, much to the smaller girl’s relief. “I think we’re ready,” she declared, glancing at Toothless. “Does he know how to count?”

“I can lend a hand,” Viggo offered.

Hiccup grinned up at him. “Thank you, Viggo!” Turning to his best friend, he shook his finger at him, saying, “Now, Toothless, no peeking.”

The Night Fury rolled his eyes before covering his face with his tail, playfully peeking out and causing the other children to laugh. The dragon gave a happy warble before covering up his face for real, while Viggo started counting and the children ran off.

Unlike the others, Hiccup did not know where the best hiding spots were, but he had plenty of practice in knowing what to look for and managed to find a good one. At least he thought it was a good one until Toothless sniffed him out a short while later.

“Toothless! Did you have to find me first,” he complained.

“Know your smell,” the Night Fury crooned, rubbing up against him.

Hiccup huffed and crossed his arms. “You could have at least looked for the others first.”

“Play together,” he suggested, looking up at Hiccup hopefully.

The boy had to admit that things were always more fun with Toothless by his side, so he couldn’t blame the Night Fury for feeling the same way. “Okay, fine,” he gave in. “But you have to do all the searching because I want the others to see how great you are,” he declared, earning him a big lick. “Ugh! Toothless!”

The Night Fury let out a draconic laugh before scampering off to find the other children, Hiccup chasing after him.

-o0o-

Once Viggo had finished counting and sent Toothless off to find the hiding children, he rejoined his brother, seeing as Hiccup seemed to be doing just fine now.

“So, how did today go,” Ryker queried.

“It was…active,” he responded as Heddi came over to join them.

“Did it get worse after you left the Archives,” she asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Thankfully, no,” he replied.

“What happened,” Ryker inquired.

“Hiccup ran off while I was talking with Lars,” he explained. “After almost having a heart attack, I found him in the Archives introducing Heddi to Toothless.”

“He’s a dear little lad,” she chimed in.

“Rambunctious is more like it,” Ryker grumbled, nodding toward the other side of the hall where Hiccup was chasing Toothless after having been the first one found.

Viggo wrinkled his nose, thinking his brother was exaggerating a bit. “He is not that bad.”

“If you ever need someone to watch him, I’d be happy to help,” Heddi remarked.

“I appreciate the offer, but he is quite a handful,” he warned.

“I’m sure I can manage,” Heddi assured him, dismissing his comment airily. “Plus, there are bound to be occasions when neither of you will be available. Though with the way things are going,” she paused and glanced over at the small group of children still searching for the others, “it appears he has made some friends he can spend time with.”

Viggo nodded in agreement. “I am glad I was able to convince him to go over.”

“Don’t try to convince me that boy is shy,” Heddi declared incredulously.

Ryker snorted. “There’s not a shy bone in that kid’s body. Especially when it comes to dragons,” he added.

Heddi’s gaze swung back over to Viggo. “But then why…?”

“As I mentioned, his past was not a happy one,” Viggo revealed. “Just tonight we discovered that on his old island, he was not allowed in the Great Hall and he was bullied by the other children, therefore his hesitation to join in the games.”

The appalled look on Heddi’s face perfectly mirrored how he felt. “To deprive a child of food and shelter-”

“I know,” he acknowledged, “and I could not agree more.”

She shook her head in disbelief before asking, “What else have you learned?” Viggo’s hesitation must have shown as she was quick to add, “I would like to help, if you’d let me.”

As much as Viggo did not want Hiccup’s sordid past known, he knew he could trust Heddi and was sure her help would be invaluable. “He was severely neglected by his father,” he disclosed, “while his uncle mistreated him and was attempting to dispose of him.”

“He really doesn’t know the meaning of family, does he,” Heddi noted sadly, watching as the laughing boy raced across the hall with the other children.

“No,” Viggo responded, “and his first real friend is that Night Fury.”

“The poor boy,” Heddi murmured. After watching the children for a few more moments she observed, “At least he seems happy now.”

“And we aim to keep him that way,” Ryker proclaimed, Viggo wholeheartedly agreeing with him.

“Let me know what I can do to help,” Heddi requested. “Maybe a picnic or a trip to the beach before the weather turns cold.”

“I would rather avoid the beach until Hiccup has learned to swim,” Viggo stated.

“He can’t-” Heddi broke off and shook her head. “I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised, but still… A picnic then,” she suggested. “I can make all the arrangements, maybe get a few of the other kids to come as well. You both are welcome to join, of course.”

“That is kind of you, Heddi,” Viggo thanked her, “but you truly do not need to.”

“I want to,” she insisted. “Hiccup is such a sweet boy and after what you’ve told me…I think we need to help him make up for lost time.”

Viggo graciously accepted her kind offer and they set a tentative date for a few days hence. As Hiccup and Toothless raced by their table though, Viggo called out to the lad, careful to keep his tone light. “Hiccup, what happened to your hair?”

“Toothless licked it,” the boy answered, causing Viggo to pinch the bridge of his nose and gesture for Hiccup to come closer. Sure enough, the lad’s hair was a sticky mess.

Turning to the Night Fury, Viggo admonished him. “Toothless, I told you no licking.” The dragon warbled something with an innocent look on his face, but having no clue what he meant, Viggo asked Hiccup, “What was his response?”

“That I’m his,” Hiccup replied with a confused look on his face. “I think he means that you said not to lick the others, but you didn’t say he couldn’t lick me.”

Viggo did his best not to groan as it seemed that Toothless followed the rules in the same way Hiccup did, to the letter but interpreting anything outside of it to his own whims. “Finish up your game,” he told Hiccup, “and then we will need to wash that out.”

The boy nodded happily and scampered off.

As he watched them go, Viggo realized that there was a lot more to raising a child than he had bargained for.

Chapter Text

“Come along, Hiccup,” Ryker said, taking the small boy’s hand and leading him out of their hut with Toothless loping along beside them.

Hiccup let himself be pulled toward the village, but his gaze remained behind them. “Why can’t Viggo come with us?”

“He has to shadow our grandfather today,” Ryker patiently explained, glancing down to see the confused expression on Hiccup’s face.

“What does that mean?”

“When Grandfather steps down from being Chief, Viggo will be taking over,” Ryker shared. “But before he can do that, he needs to learn how best to help our people.”

Hiccup nodded slowly, saying, “I think he’ll be a good Chief.”

“I think so, too,” Ryker agreed. “Now, while Viggo is busy training to become Chief, I thought you could have some training of your own.”

The boy seemed to perk up at that, his curiosity plain to see. “What kind of training?”

“Have you ever had weapons training,” Ryker inquired, having a strong suspicion he already knew the answer.

Hiccup’s eyes widened as he shook his head. This training would have come in handy to protect him from those bullies back where he was from, but it was better late than never.

“Well, we all have to start somewhere,” Ryker remarked, leading them to the training arena. “Of course, you won’t be using a real weapon just yet. We’ll stick with wooden ones for now,” he stated. “Is there a particular weapon you would like to start with?”

The lad’s brow furrowed as he thought aloud. “You use a sword, and so does Viggo…”

“Is that what you’d like to try,” Ryker asked, amused by the fact that Hiccup wanted to be like them.

“I think so,” he replied, his gaze sweeping over the wall of wooden weapons they kept available for training the children of the tribe.

“Alright.” Ryker grabbed one of the smaller swords and passed it to Hiccup, kneeling at his side. “Now when you hold it, you want your fingers to lay like this,” he said, adjusting the boy’s grip. “How does that feel?”

“It feels funny,” Hiccup responded, scrunching up his nose. “Can I use my other hand?”

It was an unusual request, but he wondered… “Which hand do you write with?”

“This one,” Hiccup answered, raising his left hand.

And that would be why it felt strange to him. Ryker nodded and told him to go ahead and switch hands, adjusting his grip once more. “Does that feel better?” Hiccup nodded happily and he smiled at the lad, saying, “You always start learning with your dominant hand first. Once you’ve mastered that, you can practice wielding a weapon with the other, if you want to.”

“Like with your two swords,” Hiccup queried.

“Exactly,” Ryker agreed. “But you have to train quite a bit before you’re as good as me. Now, are you still holding the sword like I showed you?”

Hiccup’s grip had gone lax as they spoke, but he was quick to move his fingers back into position, hesitantly glancing at Ryker for his approval.

“Very good,” Ryker commended him. He couldn’t deny that the lad was a quick study, something that was sure to help him when sizing up an opponent. But that would hopefully not be something the boy had to worry about for a long time. Right now, they needed to focus on the basics. He grabbed a wooden sword off the wall, not wanting to swing his Dragon Proof sword when Hiccup was apt to move around and could accidentally get hurt. “We’ll start by going over the eight angles of attack,” he said, explaining each move carefully as he demonstrated.

“This is easy,” Hiccup declared as he copied his movements quite well for someone who had no prior training.

“Well, it’s much easier when you’re not facing an opponent,” Ryker observed drily. “Try it again.”

Hiccup gamely lifted his wooden sword and was bringing it down for the first angle of attack when his Night Fury friend bounded forward and clamped his jaws down on the wooden blade, trying to initiate a game of tug.

“Toothless,” Hiccup exclaimed in frustration, trying to wrestle the practice sword from the dragon. “This isn’t for you to play with. I’m training.” The lad gave one more tug, just as the Night Fury let go, and promptly landed on his bottom. While he had come out victorious, the same could not be said for the wooden sword.

“Maybe we should get you another one,” Ryker suggested as he went to find one of a similar size to what Hiccup had been using.

“Sorry,” Hiccup mumbled, seeming to shrink in on himself.

He stared at the lad for a moment before he realized that Hiccup thought he was going to get in trouble. Ryker growled under his breath as he walked back over, livid that the Berkians had reduced such a bright lad to this. He knelt by Hiccup’s side, lightly resting his hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright,” he assured him. “The wooden weapons don’t last long anyway, so don’t worry about it.” He passed Hiccup the new practice sword, tossing the other one off to the side to dispose of later. “Okay, let’s try again.”

Hiccup nodded hesitantly before adjusting his grip and running through the eight angles, this time doing it on his own. Ryker had him keep going and he was pleased to see the lad’s confidence grow with each successful set completed.

Of course, he could only expect the boy to do it so many times in a row, especially at this age, which was soon proven when Hiccup lowered his sword and said, “Can we do something else? This is boring.”

“It may be boring, but perfecting these movements can save your life,” Ryker maintained. “Two more times and then we’ll switch things up.”

Hiccup let out quite a large sigh for such a small boy. “Fine,” he grumbled. But despite his waning enthusiasm, he still made an effort to complete the moves properly.

“Good job, Hiccup,” Ryker praised him, causing the boy’s face to light up. It made the warrior wonder just how rarely the boy had been commended. Not that Ryker was one to be overgenerous with his praise, but an encouraging word could go a long way, especially when training children. “How’s your arm,” he inquired. “Not too, tired?’

“No,” Hiccup shook his head. “Are we going to try something else,” he asked excitedly.

“We can if you’d like.”

The boy nodded eagerly and Ryker had to hold back a chuckle.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” he said. “I’m going to move very slowly and I want you to try and block me so my sword doesn’t touch you.” 

Hiccup tilted his head. “But what about the eight angles?”

“Those will be what your attacker is using,” he revealed. “So, if a sword is coming at you like this,” he began to bring his sword down at an angle, “how would you block it?”

This new method of training was much more effective at keeping Hiccup’s attention as it allowed him to use that mind of his. Ryker should have known the lad would enjoy the exercise as it had been one of Viggo’s favorites growing up. He hadn’t said it out loud, but the similarities between his brother and Hiccup were quite striking. Maybe that was why he felt such a need to protect the lad.

They had been training for a while by this point and Ryker could tell that Hiccup was beginning to tire, something he had been starting to doubt was possible. He lowered his sword and declared, “That was pretty good, kid. What do you say we take a break?”

“Okay,” Hiccup nodded and stumbled toward Toothless, apparently more tired than he had let on.

Thinking that this wouldn’t do, Ryker scooped Hiccup up and set him on his shoulder in a move that was becoming rather natural. He called for Toothless to join them and set off for the Great Hall. After all, it was approaching lunch time and the lad was so skinny he could not afford to miss a meal. And miss one he would not. At least not while Ryker had a say.

Chapter Text

Viggo kept an eye on the children as he helped Heddi lay out the picnic. They seemed to be having a good time and even Toothless was getting in the spirit of things, letting the children take turns riding him around the clearing. Unfortunately, Ryker had been unable to join them, having some duties he had to attend to, but they had already made plans to do something together with Hiccup later in the week to make up for it.

As he continued to set out their meal from the bottomless basket Heddi had packed, he turned to her and said, “Thank you for doing this.”

“It was my pleasure,” she smiled. “The children are enjoying themself and that makes it all worth it.”

At that moment, Hiccup ran up to his side and tapped his arm. “Viggo, what kind of a leaf is this?”

He took the leaf from the boy and said, “It is from a Mountain Ash. Those are the tall trees you see around here,” he shared, gesturing to one nearby. “The birds are incredibly fond of their berries.”

“Toothless tried some of them, but he didn’t like them,” Hiccup commented. “He spat them out.” And with that statement, he was running off to rejoin the others.

Viggo and Heddi exchanged a glance before bursting out laughing. “It is a good thing they are not poisonous to dragons,” Viggo observed. “I have no idea how I would have explained that to him.”

“Their friendship is truly something to behold,” Heddi remarked, her gaze on the boy and the dragon as they interacted.

“That it is,” he agreed. “I commissioned a bed for Hiccup, but I am beginning to wonder if it was pointless as every night I tuck him into my bed, and in the morning I find him curled up in Toothless’ wings,” he said, shaking his head wryly.

“Who would have thought?” Heddi paused before saying, “It definitely makes one think.”

“About?”

“If all dragons are like that,” she clarified, nodding toward Toothless. “It definitely puts a different spin on our livelihood.”

“I have been trying very hard not to think about that.” Viggo sighed as he leaned back and looked up at the sky. “Our tribe needs the money we bring in. Without the sale of dragons and their byproducts, I do not think we would be able to survive.”

“I know,” Heddi replied understandingly. “It was just a thought, that’s all.” Turning to the children she called for them to come and eat.

“But I haven’t got to ride on Toothless yet,” Marjetta complained.

“I am sure he will let you have your turn after we have eaten,” Viggo responded, causing the little brunette to perk up as she made her way over.

It was a lively meal and, thankfully, when they finished, Toothless did not make Viggo a liar, allowing Marjetta her turn to ride him around the clearing.

With everyone happy, Heddi stood up and got the children’s attention. “Okay, now who would like to go on a scavenger hunt?”

Three small hands shot up, leaving Hiccup the only one who was not eager to join, but if the confused expression on the lad’s face was anything to go by, it was not due to a distaste for the game.

“What’s a scavenger hunt,” Hiccup asked, proving Viggo’s supposition true.

Heddi knelt by his side and explained, “We will form teams and each one will have a list of things they have to find. Whoever finds them all first wins.”

“Hiccup is on my team,” Viivi declared, rushing to his side.

“No, he’s on mine,” Akseli proclaimed. “Boys against girls.”

“But we always play that way,” Viivi protested. “I want to do something different.”

Marjetta was not taking Viivi’s defection well, though. “You don’t want to be my partner,” she inquired softly, her hurt more than apparent.

“It’s not that, Marja,” Viivi demurred. “I like being your partner, but we’re partners all the time. Don’t you want to team up with someone else sometimes?”

The other girl looked around, her gaze eventually settling on the only child who had been quiet this whole time. “I can be Hiccup’s partner,” she offered.

“Looks like someone is quite popular,” Heddi commented, glancing at the boy in question with a smile. “How about we let Hiccup decide who he wants to team up with,” she suggested.

Hiccup’s gaze was firmly focused on the dirt, though, as if he was not sure exactly what was going on. “I just thought I would do it with Toothless,” he murmured, completely missing the disappointment on the other children’s faces.

Viggo had thought Hiccup was doing better these last few days. After all, he had not been so skittish and had seemed to be making friends, happily joining in with the others. But Viggo could see that joining in and being desired as a partner were two very different things. The poor lad did not know what to do, resorting to reaching for the one person, or perhaps he should say dragon, whom he could trust. “While I am sure that Toothless would enjoy playing,” he began, “neither of you are familiar with the forest so I believe it would be best for you to be partnered with one of the other children.”

“What about Toothless,” Hiccup queried, clearly not wanting his friend to be left out.

As Viggo met the Night Fury’s gaze, he could see that the dragon truly wanted to join in the fun, and he found himself saying, “If Heddi has an extra list, perhaps I could partner with him.”

“I think I can make that work,” she responded, biting back a smile. “It’ll just take me a moment.”

Viggo nodded and turned back to the children. “As for teams-”

“I want to be with Hiccup,” Akseli shouted.

“Not fair,” Viivi exclaimed. “I wanted him first!”

Viggo could see that Hiccup was quickly becoming uncomfortable and spoke over the impending squabble. “Children! If you can not come to a reasonable solution, then we will not proceed,” he warned.

“We could draw blades of grass,” Marjetta proposed, her calmness a stark contrast to the other two combatants.

“An excellent idea,” Viggo commended her. He plucked a few blades of varying lengths and held them so that only the tips were visible. “Whoever draws the longest blade can have Hiccup for a partner, if that is okay with you, Hiccup?”

He glanced over and saw the lad nod his head in wide-eyed astonishment. Viggo doubted the boy had ever had such competition for his companionship and if anyone had fought over him, it had probably been a matter of no one wanting to be stuck with him. This was quite a change in circumstances for him, and one that Viggo hoped he would eventually learn he was deserving of.

In a surprising turn of events, Marjetta drew the longest blade, much to Akseli and Viivi’s disappointment, which was made even worse by the fact that they were then partnered with each other. They were both very strong-minded and Viggo had a feeling that their team would suffer for it.

Heddi gave each pair a list and sent them on their way, warning them not to wander too far off before turning and handing him a list of his own, one that was in no way similar to the ones the children had been given.

“Heddi, what is this?”

“Well, I had to even the playing field,” she smirked, knowing she had set him up for an unattainable win.

“Of course you did,” Viggo responded drily as he looked back over the list of hard to find items. He was not about to give up, though, and disappoint Hiccup’s best friend. “Come along, Toothless,” he said, gesturing for the Night Fury to follow him. “It appears we have our work cut out for us.”

As he set out into the forest, he heard Heddi’s bright laugh behind him. At least someone was amused, he thought wryly. But as the Night Fury scampered by his side, he realized that maybe they were not as doomed to failure as he supposed. “What do you say, Toothless? Shall we show Heddi that even her impossible list will not phase us?”

The dragon warbled what Viggo assumed was an agreement to lend his help, and he explained what they were looking for, determined to at least make sure Toothless enjoyed himself, even if they did not prove victorious.

Chapter Text

Niklas had become settled in his old age. He had lived longer than his son and raised his two grandsons to adulthood, proud of the fine young men they had become. He had thought that with them reaching their majority, he was done with taking care of his family, but then Viggo had brought a new addition home. He could see why his grandson was fond of the lad, Hiccup being just as intelligent as Viggo had claimed, but it did not change the fact that he was no longer used to having a child around, though in the past week, he had slowly found himself slipping back into old ways.

They had just finished dinner and Viggo was retrieving the board for their weekly game when he heard little Hiccup ask, “What’s that?”

“It is a game called Maces and Talons,” Viggo shared, setting it on the table and removing the lid. “Have you seen it before?”

Hiccup peered at it curiously and shook his head. “How do you play?”

“The goal is to capture the other player’s Chief,” Viggo revealed, going on to state the purpose of each piece. “I often play with my grandfather. In fact, I was about to ask him for a match. Would you like to watch?”

The little boy nodded eagerly and his grandson settled him on his lap. As usual, Viggo chose the Honorable Viking Chief and the game began. Hiccup watched them carefully, completely fascinated by the game. He quietly asked a few well thought out questions as the game progressed, but his interruptions were not bothersome as Niklas had feared.

After trouncing his grandson, as was normal, he surprised himself by turning to Hiccup and asking, “Would you like to give it a try, boy?”

The lad stared at him in wide-eyed astonishment. “Me?”

“Why not,” he responded. “Viggo can help you.”

“What do you say,” his grandson inquired, smiling down at the boy.

“Okay,” he replied hesitantly, choosing the Honorable Viking Chief as well.

Viggo carefully explained the lay of the board on each of Hicup’s turns, offering him suggested plays, though the boy did not always accept them. Not all of his plays were successful, but there were one or two that showed that the lad definitely had promise.

As Niklas captured the Viking Chief, he said, “Not bad, Hiccup. Not bad at all considering this was your first time.”

“Thank you, sir,” he said, smiling happily as he bobbed his head.

“Now off to bed with you,” Niklas instructed, watching the boy scoot off Viggo’s lap and scuttle up the stairs, his Night Fury friend on his heels.

His grandson put away the game board before following the lad to tuck him in for the night. As Viggo returned downstairs, he got his brother’s attention. “Ryker, I have a few things to take care of tomorrow in preparation for the auction. Would you be able to keep an eye on Hiccup?”

“I can watch the boy,” Niklas proposed, causing Viggo to look at him in surprise.

“I appreciate the offer grandfather, but I thought that-”

“I am not raising him,” he cut in, “but that does not mean that I can not watch him for a few hours.”

His grandson eyed him skeptically. “If you are sure…”

“I would not have offered otherwise,” Niklas insisted.

Viggo nodded slowly, accepting his offer. “Thank you, Grandfather.”

And so the next day found him watching an energetic six-year-old and his dragon friend. At a loss for what to do to entertain them, he decided to leave it up to them. “So, boy, what should we do?”

Hiccup shuffled his feet and glanced up at him through his bangs. “Um, maybe you could tell me more about the Stormhearts?”

That was honestly one of the last things he would have expected the lad to ask. “And why would you want to hear about that?”

“Well, I-I live here now,” Hiccup hesitantly reasoned, “and I thought maybe it’d be interesting.”

“I suppose it could be at that,” Niklas conceded. “We may as well make ourselves comfortable,” he said, settling in his favorite chair and gesturing for the lad to join him. He scooped the boy up, and set him on his lap, saying “Now, where should I start?”

“Maybe with how your tribe got their name,” Hiccup suggested, looking up at him with those big green eyes as Toothless laid his head on Niklas’ knees, mirroring the boy’s expression of unconcealed curiosity.

“That would be a good place to begin,” he agreed. “You see, when our ancestors left the mainland, they faced many challenges,” he revealed dramatically. “They were expert sailors, but they encountered one storm after another, throwing them far enough off course that they no longer knew where they were. They did not give up, though, and continued on, determined to find an island to call home. After making it through a rather nasty storm where almost all their remaining provisions were lost, they caught sight of an island.”

“Tulva,” Hiccup asked.

“Exactly,” he nodded firmly. “Our ancestors felt that they never would have found this new land if it had not been for that series of storms and their stout hearts, and that is how the Stormhearts were formed.”

“They must have been very brave,” Hiccup commented.

“That they were,” Niklas remarked. “And our people carry on that tradition today, you included.”

That caught Hiccup off guard, if the surprised look on his face was anything to go by. “Me?”

“Yes, you,” Niklas maintained. “From what I hear, you have gone through quite a lot for someone so young, but you have not let that stop you. I think you are as much a Stormheart as any of the rest of us.”

Hiccup beamed at his statement, shyly responding, “Thank you, sir.”

Niklas had to admit, there was something endearing about the boy, and it led him to say, “‘Sir’ seems a little formal, would you not agree?”

“I guess so,” Hiccup wavered, a tinge of uncertainty in his voice. “What would you like me to call you instead?”

“How about Grandfather?”

The lad’s eyes widened. “I’ve never had a grandfather before,” he admitted, a slight smile creeping across his face, “but I think I’d like that. Would you tell me another story…Grandfather?”

“With pleasure,” he replied.

It was a few hours later when Viggo walked in to find him still sitting in his chair with Hiccup curled up against him, sound asleep. His grandson’s expression quickly changed from shock to a look of smug conviction.

“Not one word,” Niklas grumbled.

“I was not planning on saying anything,” Viggo acknowledged, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Having had enough of his grandson’s unspoken assumptions, he abruptly changed the topic. “Are you going to adopt him?”

“I will admit, the thought had crossed my mind,” Viggo confessed. “Judging by your current arrangement, I am assuming you would not be opposed?”

“I do believe he belongs with us,” Niklas acknowledged, glancing down at the sleeping boy in his lap, almost missing the smile on his grandson’s face.

He was reluctant to admit it, but he appreciated the change Hiccup had brought over his grandsons. They had both had to grow up fast, taking their responsibilities incredibly seriously. It was needed if their tribe was to survive, but sometimes Niklas wondered if he should have allowed them a bit more time. Having Hiccup around, though, was bringing out his boys’ softer qualities, ones that they had buried in order to appear strong for the sake of the tribe. And Hiccup himself was a delight. He would not object to having another grandson, not at all. Of course, unbeknownst to Viggo and Ryker, he had already set things in motion. He could not wait to see the expression on their faces the first time they heard Hiccup call him ‘Grandfather.’ That was sure to be entertaining.

Chapter Text

“Heddi!”

The redhead looked up from her filing to see Hiccup racing into the archives with Toothless on his heels, Viggo following them at a more sedate pace. “Why, hello there, Hiccup,” she greeted the boy.

“Viggo says I’m spending the rest of the day with you,” he declared as he reached her side.

“That you are,” she responded, tousling his hair.

“Are you sure you do not mind,” Viggo pressed, looking like he was having second thoughts about this whole situation, but it was not like he had any other options.

“I already told you. We’ll be fine,” she insisted. “Now get going before you’re late.”

“Seeing as I am in charge of the auction this year and they cannot start without me, I do not think it is possible for me to be late,” he pointed out.

“And yet, I bet your grandfather will have your hide if you are,” she retorted, giving him a shove toward the door. “Go on and git,” she ordered, causing Hiccup to giggle.

“Be good for Heddi, Hiccup,” he called over his shoulder as he opened the door.

“I will,” Hiccup replied.

Turning to the little boy, Heddi said, “Well, now that we’ve gotten rid of that worrywart, what would you like to do?”

“Could you show me around the archives,” Hiccup asked eagerly.

“That I can,” she smiled and took his hand, explaining why they kept so many records and showing him how everything was organized.

“There’s so many books,” he commented, a hint of awe in his voice.

“That there are,” she agreed.

“Are you here every day,” Hiccup queried curiously.

“Most days,” she answered, before leading them to a corner she had not shown him yet. “Come. I think there are a few things over here that you would find interesting.”

Heddi pulled a rather hefty tome off the shelf and knelt next to Hiccup, opening the book and showing him its contents.

“Woah.” He reverently ran his hand over the illustrations, thoroughly fascinated by the different dragons depicted there. He carefully turned the page and asked, “Have you seen all of these?”

“Not all, but a fair few,” she remarked as she sat on the floor, laying the book across her lap. “Would you like me to tell you more about them?”

Hiccup nodded enthusiastically, sitting down beside her. “Yes, please.”

Toothless curled up around them, providing a welcome bit of warmth and she spent the next hour or so regaling Hiccup with tales of different dragons and their unique abilities. Eventually, though, she had to call a halt to their discussion. She closed the book, much to Hiccup’s disappointment, and said, “It’s about time we get you home and get some dinner into you.”

Hiccup looked at the book longingly as she placed it back on the shelf. “Can you tell me more about some of the other dragons later?”

“I would be glad to,” she responded, scooping the boy up and setting him on Toothless’ back, much to his delight.

The trip to the Grimborn hut did not take long and Heddi soon had Hiccup settled in front of the fire with his dinner.

“Heddi,” Hiccup said softly as she was stirring the flames.

“Hmm?”

“Why aren’t Viggo and Ryker and Grandfather back yet?”

Grandfather? That was an interesting development that she would have to ponder over later, but for now, she had a six-year-old waiting for her answer. “They are busy with the auction,” she stated. “They won’t finish until late tonight.”

Hiccup’s little brow furrowed as he asked, “What’s an auction?”

Sitting down next to the boy and reminding him to eat, she explained, “It is a large event where many people come together and items are sold to the people who are willing to pay the most.”

“What kind of items,” he queried through a mouth full of biscuit.

“It can vary,” she replied vaguely, but her hopes that her answer would prove sufficient were quickly smashed.

“What about this auction?”

Her gaze flickered between Hiccup and Toothless as she tried to think of how to explain this to the boy, but much to her chagrin, her slight movement did not go unnoticed.

Hiccup’s eyes widened in dismay as he whispered, “Dragons?”

“I’m afraid so,” she nodded slowly, wrapping an arm around the lad’s shoulders.

The boy sighed and leaned against her, seeking comfort. “Viggo did say they’d have to sell them,” he recalled unhappily. The silence stretched between them only to be interrupted when he inquired, “What happens to them?”

“Well, it depends on the people who buy them,” she hedged.

“Do they buy them so that they can become friends,” Hiccup asked, seeming to perk up at the thought that the dragons’ new lives might not be so bad.

Heddi hated to burst the boy’s bubble and so she settled with saying, “I’m sorry Hiccup, but your devotion to the dragons is not one that many people agree with.”

His shoulders drooped as he murmured, “But everyone has been so nice to Toothless…”

“He is quite exceptional, though, isn’t he,” she remarked, giving the Night Fury a quick scratch with her free hand.

“Well, yes,” Hiccup admitted, hastily adding, “but other dragons can be just as amazing if you give them a chance.”

“I’m sure that’s so,” Heddi conceded, pulling the lad’s plate closer. “Now, finish your dinner.”

Hiccup picked at his food halfheartedly before looking up at her and repeating his question from earlier. “What happens to the dragons that are sold?”

Heddi did not sign up to be the one to explain this to Hiccup. “If you’ve finished eating, then I think it’s time you went to bed,” she observed, completely avoiding the boy’s query.

Unfortunately, the lad was not one to let sleeping dragons lie. “What happens to them,” he repeated.

“Hiccup…”

“Please?”

Heddi sighed, those large green eyes staring up at her and piercing her resolve. Viggo better watch his back after leaving her to explain this to the boy as she was less than pleased with him. Pulling Hiccup onto her lap, she tried to think about the best way to go about this. “Tell me, were there any dragons in your old village?”

Hiccup stiffened and nodded. “They would attack all the time,” he acknowledged fearfully.

“And were there any who would stay there permanently? In an arena perhaps,” she prodded.

The boy’s eyes widened as he pieced together what she was trying to tell him. “Is that what’s going to happen to the dragons that are sold? They’re going to be used to fight against Vikings.”

“That is unfortunately the fate of some of them,” she disclosed, holding the lad close.

“What about the others,” Hiccup muttered.

Of course he would catch on to how she phrased her response. The boy was too smart by half. “Some of the rarer dragons are bought to-” How could she put this delicately… “-use as a display of power or show the strength of a tribe’s heir.”

He pulled back and looked at her in horror, exclaiming, “They kill them,” before promptly bursting into tears.

“It is the way of the world, Hiccup,” she reasoned as she attempted to comfort him, holding him tightly and slowly rocking back and forth as sobs wracked his small body. “It is how our tribe survives.”

“It-it’s not right,” he whimpered.

“Maybe it is not, but it is the way we have lived for centuries,” she justified despite her changing feelings on the matter. Trying to help him see that things weren’t so different across the archipelago, she added, “From what you said, I am assuming that where you lived they killed dragons as well?”

“Y-yes, b-but-” He broke off, and Heddi could see the moment he realized that there was apparently no escaping dragons being killed. She rubbed his back and made comforting noises as he continued to cry for all the dragons who had ever suffered, his little heart clearly breaking. He tired himself so much that, eventually, he drifted off and she took him upstairs, tucking him in for the night.

She stayed there for a moment, before heading back downstairs, staring dispiritedly into the fire as she waited for one or another of the Grimborns to arrive home.

As it turned out, she did not have to wait long before Viggo walked in the front door. Quickly catching on to her mood, he glanced upstairs, quietly asking, “How is Hiccup? Did something go wrong?”

Heddi glared at him as she got to her feet. “You owe me big time,” she proclaimed, poking him in the chest.

Viggo ran his hand through his hair. “I am sorry if he-”

“He was a dear,” she interrupted, “but how could you have not explained to him about the auction?! I think it broke the poor lad.”

He paled, his concern more than apparent. “How is he?”

“He cried himself to sleep,” she revealed. “I tucked him in just a few minutes ago.”

Viggo ran a hand down his face. “I am so sorry, Heddi,” he apologized. “I did not mean to saddle you with that. Let me check on him and then if you would be so kind as to explain all of what happened, I would be indebted to you.”

“You already are,” she grumbled.

He grimaced and nodded in acknowledgment before heading up the stairs.

As she was waiting for his return, Chief Niklas and Ryker arrived, greeting her affably. The pleasantries had barely been exchanged, though, when Viggo came racing down the stairs, a panicked look in his eyes as he declared, “Hiccup is gone!”

Chapter Text

“What do you mean he’s gone,” Ryker demanded, not believing what his brother just said.

“He and Toothless, both. Vanished without a trace,” Viggo explained, his panic becoming more pronounced. “This is all my fault,” he groaned, sinking onto the bench by the fire and burying his face in his hands.

“I should have kept him down here,” Heddi acknowledged, sitting beside him and resting a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think he would run.”

“No, you were right,” Viggo conceded, dragging his hands down his face as he raised his head. “I should have explained this all to him more.”

This was all well and good, but everyone’s inaction was not doing anything to get Hiccup back. “If Toothless is gone as well,” Ryker observed, “do you think-”

“I am afraid to even let my mind go there,” Viggo declared, meeting his brother’s gaze and revealing the depth of his fear for the little boy they had come to view as family.

Deciding to take matters into his own hands, Ryker snatched up Hiccup’s journal that had been sitting on the table and swept out the door.

Viggo was quick to catch up to him, grabbing his arm and forcing him to stop. “Where are you going?”

“To find Hiccup,” Ryker shot back, pulling his arm from his brother’s grasp and continuing on his way. “Where else?”

“But toward the dragon pens,” Viggo asked in confusion.

Before his brother could list all of the reasons why that should be the last place they look, Ryker calmly stated, “One of the deliveries will have to be delayed.”

“What are you talking about?!”

Ryker rounded on his brother, surprised that he hadn’t put two and two together, but then again, he was so panicked, he was probably not thinking straight. “You know as well as I do that in that kid’s current state there is a strong possibility of him taking to the air, despite knowing he’s not allowed,” he growled. “And even if he didn’t, Toothless could help him blend into the shadows and we wouldn’t even know they’re there. There’s only one way to find them,” he proclaimed, heading straight for the cage with the Rumblehorn.

He couldn’t believe he was doing this, but they needed to find Hiccup and soon! And this would be the most effective way.

Cautiously approaching the cage, Ryker began to speak as softly as he was able. “Hey, big fella,” he greeted the dragon who was banging his head against the cage door in agitation. “I know you’re none too pleased with me right now, but do you remember Hiccup?” He guardedly held out the boy’s journal, allowing the Rumblehorn to get a sniff.

The dragon seemed to calm down at the familiar scent, he having been one of the dragons that Hiccup had befriended on their journey home. The Rumblehorn tilted his head and let out a questioning rumble, seeming to sense that something was wrong.

“Yeah, I’m pretty fond of him, too,” Ryker admitted, “but he ran away and we are incredibly worried about him. Would you be willing to help us find him? I will promise you a large meal before you are transported.”

The dragon bobbed his head and Ryker opened the cage, hoping that he wasn’t making a big mistake. Thankfully, the Rumblehorn seemed to be keeping his ‘word’ and Ryker pulled himself up onto the beast’s back.

He glanced over at his younger brother to see him staring at him in astonishment. “How did you…?”

“It is our best option,” Ryker proclaimed. “Now, are you coming or not?”

-o0o-

Viggo could not see well from where he sat behind his brother, but considering it was a cloudy night, visibility was low anyway. Thankfully, the Rumblehorn seemed to have found Hiccup’s scent and Viggo could only hope that they found him before anything bad happened.

He was shaken from his thoughts when his brother called Hiccup’s name. Leaning over, he discovered that their fears had not been unfounded as straight ahead of them was Toothless, flying through the night sky not too terribly far from the village, though at a much slower pace than he was capable of. Upon taking a closer look, Viggo could tell that it was probably because Hiccup was not holding on tightly due to the fact that he had little energy left and the Night Fury did not dare risk his friend’s safety.

Ryker leaned over and whispered to the Rumblehorn who quickly sped up and gently plucked Hiccup off of Toothless’ back, though strangely enough, the Night Fury did not seem to be troubled by this turn of events, simply circling around and flying alongside them as they descended to land in a nearby clearing. Hiccup, however, was not nearly so complacent.

“No,” he screamed, wriggling like a fish on a line. “Put me down!”

“Hiccup-”

“No,” the boy interrupted Viggo, his voice raw. “You’re sending those dragons to their deaths! It’s not right!”

The Rumblehorn carefully set Hiccup on the ground before landing a short distance away. Hiccup had run straight over to Toothless but the Night Fury was refusing to budge, seeming to realize that this situation could not be solved by running away. The dragon even went so far as to grab the boy’s tunic to keep him from running elsewhere.

Viggo dismounted the Rumblehorn as Ryker stated, “I need to get this fellow back. Will you be able to deal with this on your own, or do you want me to stay?”

“This is my fault,” he replied. “I can manage.” Walking around to the Rumblehorn's head, he rubbed the dragon’s nose, saying, “Thank you for your help.”

The Rumblehorn gave him a slight nudge before Ryker asked it to return to the base for its reward. The dragon reluctantly obeyed and Viggo could understand that the promise of food in no way compared to the promise of freedom. If it was not for the fact that the dragon had already been sold…

Pushing that thought from his mind, he turned his attention to the little boy who was now crying into Toothless’ neck. Viggo walked over and picked the lad up, cradling him in his arms as he began the walk back to the village. “Hiccup, please listen to me,” he entreated. “I am sorry for not explaining the situation to you more fully. But you did know that the dragons were to be sold.”

The boy nodded, still keeping his head buried against Viggo’s shoulder.

“And what happens to most dragons when they encounter humans?”

Hiccup remained stubbornly silent.

Viggo gave the boy a slight bounce as he repositioned him. “I know you aware of the answer, Hiccup.”

“They become friends,” he responded sulkily.

“For you, yes, that is normal,” Viggo agreed. “But with other Vikings, what happens?”

Hiccup huffed before mumbling, “They die.”

“They do,” he confirmed. “That is part of life.”

“But it’s not fair,” Hiccup exclaimed, pulling back enough to look Viggo in the eye. “Would you let Toothless be killed?”

“I-” Viggo shook his head, thinking that while that would once have been a possibility, it was not any longer. “Toothless is special, Hiccup.”

“The other dragons are special, too,” he insisted, “if you would only give them a chance.”

“And if we gave them a chance,” Viggo proposed. “How would we pay for the supplies Tulva needs?”

“The dragons could help,” Hiccup suggested. “They could fish and gather wood and…and…”

Viggo could see how much this meant to the boy and he had to admit that having spent so much time around Toothless and seeing how willing the Rumblehorn had been to help, he was beginning to have second thoughts. Changing their whole way of life would be quite an undertaking, though, and not something he could legitimately promise. “I will make you a deal,” he offered.

Hiccup scrunched up his face and said, “Is this going to turn out like the last one?”

“If I remember correctly, that deal turned out in your favor in the end,” Viggo remarked, nodding toward the Night Fury bounding along at his side.

“I suppose,” Hiccup wavered, still not convinced that a deal would be in his best interests.

“Here is what I propose,” Viggo stated. “Our season is over and we will not be sending the ships back out to capture more dragons until the spring. During the winter, we will all work together and see if we can find a way to earn enough gold to support the tribe without resorting to selling dragons.” He was not sure if they would be able to do it, but it would be worthwhile to make the attempt.

“Is this another deal that needs Grandfather’s approval,” Hiccup asked warily.

“I am afraid so,” he nodded.

“Do you think he’ll agree,” Hiccup pressed.

Viggo thought about it for a moment before saying, “If we can produce sufficient arguments in our favor, then yes.”

Hiccup glanced at Toothless who warbled happily, causing Hiccup to pout.

“What did he say,” Viggo inquired, unable to contain his curiosity.

“That dragons are always in danger, but here is safe and good for me and I should stay,” he grumbled. Pausing a moment, he continued, “Do you really think things can change?”

“I will be honest with you, Hiccup. I do not know,” Viggo confessed. “But I would like to attempt it,” he said earnestly, shocked to discover how much he truly meant it.

Chapter Text

As Viggo walked in the door, Heddi rushed to his side, almost pulling Hiccup from his arms. However, he was not prepared to let the lad go just yet, so she settled for brushing his hair out of his face instead.

“Thank goodness they found you,” she declared, carefully looking Hiccup over. “You’re okay? You’re not hurt?”

“No,” he murmured, shaking his head slowly as he sunk into Viggo’s arms, the enormity of what he had done finally seeming to sink in. “Am I in trouble?”

“No, Hiccup. You are not,” Viggo replied, holding him a little closer.

“Then why is everyone staring at me,” the boy asked.

“We were very worried when we discovered you were gone,” Viggo disclosed, taking a seat near the fire.

“Why?”

“You’re one of us, kid,” Ryker said, having arrived just in time to hear the topic of their conversation. “Why wouldn’t we be worried?”

Viggo noticed the bewildered look on the lad’s face, his heart breaking as he realized that the poor boy had probably never had anyone to worry over him. “We care about you, Hiccup,” he stated sincerely. “We care more than you could possibly know.”

“You should have seen him,” Ryker commented, sitting down beside them and jerking his thumb toward Viggo. “He was a wreck.”

The lad’s confusion only seemed to grow. “But why?”

“Because I was afraid of what could have happened to you,” Viggo confessed. “And then I was sad because I had hurt you.”

Hiccup looked up at him with those big green eyes. “You were?”

Viggo nodded solemnly and was caught off guard when Hiccup threw his arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry for scaring you,“ he apologized as Viggo returned his hug.

“Just please, Hiccup, do not do that again,” he requested, receiving an equally solemn nod in return.

“Now that everything is okay, I’d better get going,” Heddi spoke up. “I’m glad you’re back home, Hiccup,” she said, walking over and kissing the little boy’s head before bidding the rest of them farewell and leaving.

“I like Heddi,” Hiccup remarked softly. “She’s awfully nice”

“What about us, boy,” Grandfather chimed in. “Do you like living here?”

“Yes,” Hiccup drawled, “though I wish the dragons didn’t have to be sold.”

Feeling that there was no time like the present, Viggo decided to jump right into his proposition. “Ah, yes. Grandfather, Hiccup and I have a proposal for you.”

The elder Grimborn looked at him knowingly. “I was wondering how long it would take you to get around to that.”

Viggo stared at his grandfather in disbelief, having never thought that this conversation could go so smoothly. “What?”

“That Night Fury is enough to change anyone’s opinions,” Grandfather observed, shooting Toothless a glance. “I am assuming the plan is to see if we can survive without selling dragons?”

“Yes, sir,” Viggo responded.

“It will not be an easy task,” Grandfather warned.

“I am aware of that, sir, but I do believe it will be worthwhile.”

There was a brief silence where Viggo held his breath and then his Grandfather said, “So do I. I will lend what aid I can.”

Viggo was still having a difficult time processing that his grandfather had been so accepting of the proposed plan, but Hiccup was not having an issue at all.

“Really, Grandfather?!”

“Yes, really.” The Grimborn patriarch smiled at the boy who was practically bouncing in Viggo’s lap. “Now the only thing left is to make you an official part of our family.”

Viggo was aware they had discussed this briefly the day before, but he was not expecting his grandfather to spearhead the effort, much less to do it so soon. He did not exactly object, but his was not the opinion that mattered the most.

Hiccup tilted his head. “But I already live here…”

“We were thinking of taking it a step further, kid,” Ryker confided, reaching out to ruffle Hiccup’s hair. “How would you like to be a Grimborn?”

Hiccup blinked a few times, not seeming to understand just what it was they were suggesting. “What do you mean?”

“We would like to adopt you, Hiccup,” Viggo clarified. “To truly be your family in name and deed.”

“So I wouldn’t be a Haddock anymore,” Hiccup queried.

“No,” Viggo answered. “And if you so desire, we could change the rest of your name as well.”

The boy thought about it for a moment before hesitantly asking, “Is-is Hiccup a bad name?”

That was a loaded question. Viggo was just glad that the lad’s attention was focused on him so that he missed the flicker of anger that crossed over Ryker’s face. “It is not a bad name per se,” Viggo prevaricated, “though it is not always used in a nice way.”

Hiccup nodded dispiritedly. “I think a lot of people didn’t use it in a nice way back on Berk,” he murmured, leaning heavily against Viggo’s chest. “I guess if I’m not going to be a Haddock, I don’t have to be a Hiccup either, but what would I be?”

Viggo wrapped his arms around the boy. “That is up to you,” he said. “Or we could think of a few names if you would like.”

“That would be nice,” Hiccup yawned. “After all, names are supposed to be given,” he stated like it was fact.

In a way, the lad’s statement made sense as a family would name their child when he was born and this was to be a new life for Hiccup. But what moniker would suit him…?

“I do have one suggestion,” Grandfather put forth. “Vilhehn. It was my father’s name.”

“I like that,” Hiccup agreed sleepily, his eyes slowly drifting close.

“We’ll have to see if he still likes it once he’s more awake,” Ryker commented, a slight smile on his face.

“He has had a busy day,” Viggo admitted, thinking that it was no wonder the poor boy was so tuckered out.

“We all have,” Grandfather added, pushing himself to his feet. “We can revisit this topic in the morning, but for now, I will say goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Grandfather,” Viggo replied, Ryker echoing the sentiment. Once they were alone, Viggo turned to his sibling, saying, “Thank you, brother, for thinking so quickly earlier. I was so distraught that I was unable to think straight,” he grimaced.

“You should thank Toothless, too.” Ryker nodded toward the Night Fury and stated, “I’m fairly certain he held back so we could catch up.”

Thinking back to what the dragon had told Hiccup on their way home, Viggo realized that his brother was more than likely right. “You are correct,” he acknowledged before beckoning the Night Fury closer. “Thank you, Toothless,” he said, scratching the dragon’s jaw as he crooned in delight.

Ryker got to his feet and stretched his back. “I’m off. You should be, too.”

“I will head up as soon as Toothless releases me from being his personal scratcher,” Viggo responded as the Night Fury pushed harder into his hand.

“You heard him, Toothless,” Ryker declared. “Hiccup needs to get to bed and so do you. Off with you, now,” he said, shooing the dragon toward the stairs.

Thankfully the Night Fury listened and they were all soon tucked in for the night, with Viggo sincerely hoping he would never have to go through such a heartstopping experience again.

Chapter Text

Viggo was working at his desk the next morning when he noticed Hiccup stirring. As the lad sat up and rubbed his eyes, he greeted him, saying, “Good morning, Hiccup.”

“Morning,” he replied with a yawn.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Hiccup hummed as he came to his side to see what Viggo was working on.

“And are you ready for breakfast,” he inquired, noting how Hiccup, and even Toothless, perked up. The boy nodded eagerly and Viggo gave him a slight nudge toward the chest where his belongings were stored, telling him to go ahead and get changed out of his nightshirt.

As Hiccup opened the chest though, he paused, curiously pulling out the new items he found within.

“What’s this,” he queried.

“Some new clothes for you,” Viggo answered. “I ordered them shortly after we returned but they were not ready until yesterday. What do you think?”

“They’re so nice,” Hiccup declared with a huge grin. “Thank you, Viggo!”

“You are more than welcome,” he responded, a slight smile on his own face as he watched Hiccup sort through his new things in delight, showing them all to Toothless as he tried to decide what to wear.

The lad eventually settled on a deep blue tunic and a pair of black trousers with his new boots, happily clambering down the stairs in front of Viggo. Grandfather was quick to greet him, as was Ryker who set the boy’s meal in front of him. Hiccup tucked in and once they were all mostly done eating, Viggo brought up their discussion from the night before.

“Hiccup,” he said, garnering the lad’s attention. “Do you remember what we discussed last night?”

The boy took another bite of his porridge and tilted his head, slowly pulling the spoon out of his mouth. “About not selling dragons?”

“Yes,” Viggo acknowledged, “but I was referring to what happened after that.”

“About me becoming a Grimborn,” Hiccup recalled hesitantly.

“Yes.”

The lad’s gaze dropped to his bowl as he murmured, “Did you change your mind?”

“Of course not,” Ryker exclaimed, “You were just half-asleep when we discussed it and we wanted to be sure it was something you wanted as well.”

Hiccup looked up at that, cautiously hopeful as he said, “You really want me as your family?”

“Most assuredly,” Viggo confirmed, his grandfather nodding his agreement.

The boy set his spoon down, guardedly asking, “Would you be like uncles…?”

Remembering that Hiccup’s uncle was the one who had mistreated him the most, Viggo could understand why the lad would be wary. Thankfully, he and Ryker had already discussed this and he replied, “No, we would be more like older brothers.”

“I’ve never had a brother,” Hiccup commented thoughtfully, seeming to come around to the idea. “I think I would like that.”

“I am glad,” Viggo remarked before broaching the other item they had proposed. “And do you remember our discussing the possibility of changing your first name as well? Only if you want to, of course.”

The little boy’s brow furrowed. “Grandfather had said something about naming me after his father, didn’t he? I can’t remember the name though…”

“Vilhehn,” Grandfather supplied, smiling fondly at the lad.

Hiccup nodded. “I would like that.”

“Well, we may as well make it official, then,” Grandfather declared, using the table to lever himself to his feet. “I will call for an assembly to inform the tribe. And we can propose the change regarding the dragons while we have everyone together.”

With that, Grandfather left and the brothers quickly cleaned up the mess from breakfast before heading to the Great Hall with Hiccup and Toothless.

The Stormhearts had quickly become enamored of Hiccup in the short time he had lived on Tulva, and so the announcement that he was being adopted by the Grimborns was met with much joy and congratulations. The proposal about changing their livelihood, though, was another matter entirely. Viggo had debated taking Hiccup, now Vilhehn, outside, but he had promised to involve the lad in this change and he felt it was important that he see what they were up against.

Opinions were largely mixed. Most of the villagers, who had more opportunities to see the bond between Vilhehn and Toothless, were open to the idea if it could be brought to fruition, while a large portion of the hunters and some of the more conservative villagers were against it. Viggo and his grandfather argued strenuously as to the benefits that would come from the change. After all, if the dragons were willing to help, they would also add another layer of protection, not to mention there would be fewer injuries, something that swayed several of the hunters with families to change their stance. Yes, it would be a big change for everyone, but once all the pros and cons were explained, the tribe was willing to give it a try. 

By the time that conclusion had been reached, it was already past noon and the midday meal turned into something of an impromptu celebration, officially welcoming Vilhehn to the tribe. The poor boy was at a bit of a loss as to how to react with all the positive attention focused on him, but his new brothers remained by his side, as did Toothless, assuring him that all was well and that everyone truly was happy for him.

When they finally left the Great Hall, though, Vilhehn let out a sigh of relief, clearly pleased that he was no longer the center of so much attention. Ryker had a few duties to attend to and left, promising to see them back at home for dinner and winking at Viggo, leaving him to wonder what exactly those duties entailed. It was no matter though as he had an errand to run, one which he was sure Vilhehn would like.

“Come along, Ville,” he said, unable to resist the smile that appeared on his face as he noticed his little brother’s joy at his newly acquired nickname. “There is one stop I want to make,” he revealed before leading them to the forge. “Hello, Elias,” he greeted the blacksmith.

“Hello,” he boomed. “And is that the youngest Grimborn I spot there?”

Vilhehn beamed at being acknowledged thusly and waved at the blacksmith, Toothless boosting him up so he could see better over the counter. “Hi, Elias!”

“Good to see you, lad, and welcome to the tribe,” the blacksmith remarked.

“Thanks,” Vilhehn replied happily, his gaze already wandering around the forge.

Viggo held back a chuckle, amused by how quickly the boy’s attention was caught by something more interesting. Turning to the blacksmith, he said. “I thought we would stop by to see if my order was ready.”

“That it is,” Elias informed him, reaching underneath the counter to pull out a highly polished leather saddle. “Here you go.”

“What’s that,” Vilhehn asked, his curiosity peaked.

“A saddle for Toothless so you will not fall off when you are flying together,” Viggo revealed, holding it out so the boy could see it better and explaining all the safety precautions he and Elias had come up with.

As he talked, Ville’s smile continued to grow, so much so that Viggo was afraid the lad’s face would split in half. But just because he was allowing Ville to touch the sky, did not mean that this gift was not without its restrictions.

“Now, this does not mean I will condone Toothless’ crazy stunts,” Viggo warned, “but if he promises to be careful and not fly too high while staying within sight, you can go on one flight a day, weather permitting.”

Vilhehn nodded eagerly, though he was quick to say, “You know, it would be easier if you had a dragon of your own. And then you could come up with me to make sure we don’t do anything too crazy.”

Elias laughed. “He’s got you there, Viggo. Looks like some of these changes may be happening quicker than we thought”

“Yes, well, we would need to find more dragons first, and convince them we mean no harm,” Viggo observed. “It is a little too late in the season for us to go out, so we will have to wait until spring. But in the meantime, Vilhehn can work on his mastery of the dragon’s tongue to make our future endeavors easier.”

Ville happily agreed before asking if they could try out the saddle now, to which Viggo found himself unable to say no.

Chapter Text

After a heart-stopping few minutes of watching Toothless throw every restriction he had given him out the window, Viggo called a halt to the duo’s fun. He could understand their excitement, so he would not punish them this time, but one more stunt like that and they would be grounded from flying together for a week.

After warning them of the consequences if they did anything like that again, Viggo removed the saddle and led them back home, surprised to find Ryker and Heddi cooking up a storm. “What is all this,” he inquired.

“The Great Hall was a celebration for the tribe,” Ryker commented. “This one is just for us.”

Vilhehn was quick to rush over and see what they were making, asking if he could help.

“Sure, kid,” Ryker agreed, pulling over a stool for Ville to stand on so he could reach the table.

As Heddi was moving his way, Viggo took the opportunity to quietly ask, “Was this your idea?”

“I may have suggested it to Ryker,” she admitted, “but he was quick to agree. I know I’m not family, but I hope you won’t object to me staying,” she added.

“Not at all,” Viggo replied. “Your idea to do this was inspired. Just look at how happy he is.” He nodded toward Vilhehn who was cheerfully helping Ryker.

“I think his new family has more to do with that,” Heddi reasoned, “but I’ll take what credit I can get. Now, come on,” she declared, grabbing Viggo’s arm and pulling him toward the table. “If Ville is lending a hand, then you can, too.”

And so, they spent a pleasant afternoon together cooking all sorts of delicacies, some of which Vilhehn loved and others which he was not so crazy about. Grandfather joined them in time for dinner and it was a merry party that sat down at the table.

The celebration continued after the meal as well, seeing as Viggo had not been the only one intent on gifting the newest member of their family something to commemorate the occasion. Heddi had gotten Ville a small book on the different dragon classes which the lad was instantly fascinated by, though the dragon carving gifted by their grandfather came as a close second. Of course, Viggo almost had a heart attack when Ryker presented their youngest brother with a dagger. It did not matter that he promised to show the boy the right way to handle it or that he had already begun his weapons training. The weapons he had been handling thus far were wooden and could not chop off the boy’s fingers! At least Ville seemed to realize that he needed to be careful with it, but that did not prevent Viggo from extracting a promise for him to handle it only when one of them was around to supervise.

Ville did not mind the restrictions, which was more than could be said for his Night Fury friend as Viggo discovered a couple of days later. Toothless could not seem to contain himself and once again started pulling crazy stunts on his and Vilhehn’s daily flight.

Calling them down, Viggo sternly asked, “Do you remember what I said after your first flight with the saddle?”

Vilhehn nodded solemnly, before trying to wrangle his way out of the situation. “It was all Toothless,” he claimed

“And I am aware that he will listen to you if you ask him to stop,” Viggo stated, piercing a hole in Ville’s defense. “You know the consequences,” he said, removing the saddle. “No flying for a week.”

He had to admit, he was surprised Vilhehn was not protesting more, but the Night Fury was another story. As soon as the saddle was removed, Toothless huffed in Viggo’s face before scampering off toward the forest. Though it was not normal for Toothless and Ville to be apart during the course of the day, Viggo assumed that the dragon just needed to blow off some steam. Therefore, when evening approached and the Night Fury had still not returned, he became concerned.

“Ville, do you know where Toothless is,” he queried, thinking that perhaps there was a spot the dragon favored that he might be found sulking in.

Unfortunately, Vilhehn did not prove very helpful when he simply responded, “Gone.”

“I realize that, but he is never far from your side,” Viggo pointed out. “Did he never come back after he took off this morning?”

“No, but he’ll be back soon,” Ville declared confidently, smiling at Viggo before returning to his drawing.

It was a strange set of circumstances, but Viggo suspected that Vilhehn knew more than he was saying. Deciding to let the matter rest for now, he pushed the Night Fury’s absence to the back of his mind, hoping that Ville was correct as if anything had happened to Toothless… Viggo did not even want to think about it, knowing that his little brother would be crushed.

It took a few days, but, finally, Toothless returned, and even more shocking was the fact that he was not alone.

Vilhehn rushed forward to greet his friend as the other dragons landed in the village and Viggo could not help but wonder what exactly was going on.

“Ville,” he called, getting his youngest brother’s attention. “Would you care to explain what Toothless has been doing these last few days?”

“Well, you said it was too late to send the ships out to find dragons to come and live here, but Toothless can fly,” Ville reasoned. “Plus, the dragons would be more likely to listen to another dragon and we wanted to do our part to help. After all, we can’t try things out with the dragons if there are none here.” He paused for a moment, moving the dirt around with his boot before confessing, “We may have pulled those extra tricks on purpose, but if we hadn’t you might have questioned Toothless’ leaving.”

In all truth, it had been a brilliant idea, and having a few dragons already integrated into their tribe before winter hit would most definitely prove helpful. He made sure to share those thoughts with Ville, the boy beaming at the praise. And his smile got even wider when Viggo suggested he go and get Toothless’ saddle as their punishment was lifted.

The reunited friends were soon in the air and Viggo kept half an eye on them as he went about helping the tribe to make preparations for the coming cold season. When they finally landed, Ville was quick to grab Viggo’s hand and try to pull him over to the new dragons in an attempt to help him befriend one of them, but though he hated to disappoint his little brother, he still had a long list of things to accomplish that day and could not take the time to make the dragon’s acquaintance. Vilhehn eventually gave up, deciding to try and seek out Ryker instead.

By the time Viggo returned home, Ville was already asleep, but the little boy was quick to inform them the next morning that all the dragons had already made friends with people who were not too busy.

Vilhehn was generally fairly even-tempered, so seeing this petulant attitude was a first. “Ville, you know I would have loved to meet the new dragons,” Viggo said. “I am deeply sorry that I was so busy yesterday, but there are times when the good of the tribe needs to come first.”

That seemed to be the wrong thing to say, though, as Vilhehn’s face fell. “Even before me?”

Viggo was mentally kicking himself as he realized that back on Berk, Ville had never been first. “Never before you, Vilhehn,” he assured the boy, pulling him in for a hug. “The needs of family will always come first. I promise you that.”

“But I wanted you to meet the dragons,” Ville pouted.

“I know you did, but ‘needs’ will always trump ‘wants’,” he explained. Seeing that Ville was not thoroughly convinced, he added, “Sometimes, we have to put aside the things we want to do so that the things that need to be done can be accomplished. Do you understand?”

Vilhehn nodded slowly. “Like giving up my daily flights with Toothless so he could find more dragons to bring back?”

“Exactly.” Hoping to lift the lad’s spirits, Viggo said, “I am sure you will find a dragon friend for me eventually, but we already have one dragon in our family. Let us allow the other families to have a chance for draconic companionship, okay?”

“Okay,” Ville drawled. “I guess that does make sense…kind of.” With his spirits mostly restored, he began telling his family who had bonded with who and as Viggo was helping around the village he was able to spy a few of the pairings himself.

Heddi had bonded with a Stormcutter, and when Viggo finally had a chance to take a better look, he had to admit it was one of the most magnificent specimens of the species he had ever seen.

Elias was another of the villagers who had befriended a dragon, in his case a Gronckle. It had been a wise choice as the dragon would be a great help in the forge which they were planning to expand come spring. Elias had already taken on a few apprentices in the hopes that they would soon be able to increase their production of Gronckle Iron weapons. And that was just the start of Viggo’s plans.

He had determined that they could continue to harvest Nightmare gel, albeit in a more humane way, and Zippleback gas was another product they could possibly trade. If someone managed to befriend a Changwing, their acid could be another potentially valuable commodity. Baby dragon teeth, as well as shed spines and talons, could also be occasionally collected. One of the craftsmen had already started carving a Nadder spine that their new friend had gifted them, and it appeared that the finished piece would be an exceptional creation that could fetch a hefty price.

All together, Viggo hoped that it would prove enough. He also wanted to come up with a use for dragon scales, as it seemed that the dragons shed prodigiously, but that would be a project to tackle during the winter months when they were confined indoors. Right now, he needed to keep his focus on helping prepare Tulva. They had a week, maybe two, before the first large storm of the season hit, and he was determined that they would be ready.

Chapter Text

Viggo was pleased to see that the preparations for winter were progressing well. The new dragons had already begun proving their usefulness, helping with the fishing and hauling of wood, just as Vilhehn had originally proposed and the food stores were more than full enough that they would not have to worry.

Having quickly become accustomed to the dragons coming and going from the village, Viggo did not think anything about the lone dragon flying toward Tulva until Vilhehn tugged on his tunic.

“Viggo, look,” the boy declared, pointing toward the approaching Rumblehorn.

“What is it, Ville,” he inquired, not understanding what was of so much significance.

“Don’t you recognize him,” Vilhehn asked incredulously. “He was on the ship with us.”

As the dragon came in to land near Ryker, Viggo took a better look at the Rumblehorn. Following Ville over, though at a more sedate pace, he thought the dragon did appear somewhat familiar. It had been dark the last time he had seen the dragon, but… “You are the one who helped us find our little brother, are you not,” he queried, reaching his hand out for the dragon to sniff.

“He likes you, Ryker,” Ville proclaimed, practically bouncing around them. “I think you’re already friends. Is that why you didn’t want to bond with any of the dragons Toothless brought back?”

“The thought never crossed my mind,” Ryker admitted, staring at the dragon curiously. “How did you get here, big fellow?”

“He must have broken free,” Viggo observed, pulling off the remainder of what had once been a muzzle.

The Rumblehorn nudged Ryker, almost knocking him off his feet. “Don’t get all soft on me, dragon,” Ryker complained gruffly, before begrudgingly admitting, “I suppose we can make this work.”

“Now you can come flying with me, Ryker,” Vilhehn exclaimed, tugging on his oldest brother’s arm.

“Does that mean you’ll actually behave up in the air,” Ryker queried skeptically.

Ville just grinned and turned his attention to Viggo. “Now, all we need to do is find a dragon for you.”

Viggo chuckled and ruffled his little brother’s hair. “All in good time, Ville,” he replied. “All in good time.”

-o0o-

The temperature had been dropping rapidly the last few days and Viggo suspected that the first storm of the season would be upon them any day now. Apparently, he was not the only one noticing the cold as that night Vilhehn asked if he could sleep with him instead of on his own.

“I do not see why not,” Viggo responded. Wanting to be sure that all was well with his younger brother, he asked, “Is everything ok?”

“Mm-hmm, but it’s warmer with you,” Ville observed, snuggling into his side before propping himself up as his Night Fury friend began warbling. “Toothless says he’s cold, too.”

“Am I right to assume he would like to join us as well,” he inquired warily, remembering what had happened the last and only time, he had allowed the Night Fury to join them.

“No,” Ville drawled. “He just wants to know if he can warm up his spot.”

Viggo quirked an eyebrow. “And how would he propose to do that?”

Ville chirped at his best friend, but as Toothless replied, the boy’s eyes went wide, and he started shaking his head frantically, mumbling, “Never mind,” as he pulled the furs over his head.

“But now I find myself curious,” Viggo commented, smiling to himself. “What was it Toothless wanted?”

“To heat the floor,” Vilhehn revealed before poking his head out of the furs, his hair even more wild than normal as he told the Night Fury, “Toothless, the wood will burn, just like it does in the fire. You’d fall right through!”

The dragon whimpered and lowered his head, clearly embarrassed for not having thought of that.

“I am sure we can come up with a solution,” Viggo said. “Perhaps we can place a rock slab in the corner for him.”

“Like a bed of his own,” Ville asked, tilting his head.

“Exactly. But for tonight, I suppose he may join us if he promises to remain in his allotted section,” he stipulated, not wanting to get pushed out of his own bed again.

Toothless bounded over and jumped up, knocking the breath out of Viggo as Ville giggled and tried to get his friend to calm down. Eventually, they settled into an arrangement that made everyone happy, and though Viggo had to admit that the dragon provided abundant warmth, he was also a bed hog and the loss of space was not worth it. As he fell asleep, he determined that he would look into finding a rock slab as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, it would have to wait as the storm he had been expecting rolled in overnight. By the time morning came, the village was thoroughly drenched and the rain showed no sign of letting up. Even worse, by midmorning, the thunder and lightning began, but the lightning strikes were coming far too often for them to be natural.

Ryker must have realized it too as he stepped outside momentarily only to come back in, announcing, “It’s a Skrill.”

Normally, they would try to shoot the dragon down, but that was not an option any longer. Viggo quickly thought through potential alternatives, remembering he had heard about the Berserkers using metal daggers to lure Skrills into traps. If he could get it down… Though he hated to involve his little brother, he was their best chance. “Ville, if I can lure the Skrill to come close, could you convince it to leave the village alone?”

“I can try,” Vilhehn offered, jumping to his feet, ready to race out the door.

Viggo caught him before he made it that far, though, and wrapped him up in sealskins before grabbing his own cloak in an attempt to prevent them both from being completely soaked. Toothless insisted on accompanying them, which, to an extent, Viggo could understand. After all, the Night Fury was very protective of his friend, but Viggo was not looking forward to having to dry the dragon off when they returned. 

They walked to the middle of the village and Viggo had Ville and Toothless wait against one of the buildings where they were a little more sheltered while he stepped to the middle of the square, holding up his dagger and twisting it so that the lightning reflected off of it, drawing the Skrill’s attention.

The dragon approached cautiously, wary of actually descending into the village, but its fascination with the dagger overrode its sense of self-preservation and it was soon on the ground and creeping closer.

Viggo held out his hand in a non-threatening manner, allowing the dragon to smell him. He was surprised when it pressed into his palm, but seeing that the Skrill was now calm enough, he called for his little brother to come and try to convince the dragon to leave their village be.

”I don’t think you need my help,” Ville observed, coming to join him looking like a drowned rat, causing Viggo to wonder where the sealskins had gone.

He glanced over to where he had told Ville to wait and saw that they had been carelessly discarded, lying in a heap. Resolved to talk to his little brother about his foolhardy act later, he asked for clarification as to Ville’s statement. “What do you mean?”

“She likes you,” he beamed, coming forward and letting the Skrill sniff him before scratching her.

Viggo stared at his brother in astonishment. “It is that simple?”

“Of course,” Vilhehn declared, cuddling up to the Skrill’s warmth, much to Toothless’ disgruntlement.

“Well, then, I suppose you may come home with us if you wish,” Viggo said to the Skrill, though how he was going to convince Grandfather to allow a third dragon in the house was not something he was prepared to contemplate. All he knew was they would definitely need to build an addition come spring.

As he was heading to retrieve the abandoned sealskins, Ville sneezed and Viggo couldn’t help but sigh, sincerely hoping that his brother was not getting sick. “Oh, Ville, why could you not have kept the sealskins on?”

“They were too heavy,” he complained as Viggo scooped him up and tucked him under his own cloak.

“Yes, but they would have kept you dry,” Viggo pointed out as they headed home.

Ville sneezed again and cuddled up against him, adamantly declaring that he would be fine.

Chapter Text

Vilhehn was not fine, Viggo thought as he watched the lad sitting by the fire. Though he had rushed home as quickly as possible and gotten Ville dried off immediately, the boy kept sniffing and was slowly starting to list to one side.

“Ville,” Viggo said, causing the lad to jerk upright. “Are you alright?”

He nodded slightly and murmured, “I’m fine.”

Viggo doubted that was true and reached over, laying his hand on the lad’s forehead. “You are not fine,” he declared. “You are burning up!”

Toothless nuzzled his friend in concern and Vilhehn almost fell over from the slight pressure, causing Viggo to shake his head.

“We need to get you to bed,” he proclaimed, scooping up his little brother before Grandfather or Ryker could offer their assistance.

“I don’t wanna,” Ville whined, wearily resisting Viggo’s hold as he was carried upstairs.

His attempts to get away were rather pathetic though, and as Viggo got Vilhehn changed into his nightshirt, he said, “Needs come before wants, remember?”

At that, the boy gave in to the inevitable and let himself be tucked in, Toothless curling around the bed and laying his head near Ville’s hand with Viggo’s new Skrill friend wrapping herself around the remainder of the bed. Retrieving a cloth and a basin of cool water, Viggo returned and placed the now damp fabric on Vilhehn’s head, much to the boy’s dissatisfaction.

Viggo caught his brother’s hand as he was reaching up to pull the cloth off and slipped it back underneath the furs. “I know it is cold, Ville, but I promise it will help,” he reassured the boy, “I will just be at my desk if you need anything, alright?”

Vilhehn nodded slightly, his eyelids already becoming heavy.

Assured that the lad would soon be asleep, Viggo pulled out the plans he had been working on in his spare time and kept half an eye on Ville, regularly refreshing the cloth on his forehead as he drifted in and out of sleep.

As evening approached, Ryker brought up dinner, including some broth that, between the two of them, they managed to convince Vilhehn to drink. Anything else was beyond the boy, though, and Viggo was beginning to wonder if perhaps he should see about summoning a healer. But the storm was still raging and when Grandfather checked in on his way to bed, he assured him that there was nothing out of the ordinary and Ville would come through alright in time.

Still, Viggo was loathe to go to sleep when his little brother was tossing and turning restlessly. He moved his chair nearer the lad’s bed, and with a book in hand, began his vigil.

At some point during the night, he must have drifted off though, as he awoke to a panicked scream, putting him instantly on edge. The dragons were both worriedly watching Ville, who was thrashing about in his bed, seemingly caught in the throes of a bad dream.

Viggo rushed to his brother’s side, scooping him into his arms as he murmured reassurances. “Shh, it is okay, Ville,” he said softly as he sat on the edge of the bed, rocking back and forth. “You are safe.”

He was not sure if the boy heard him, though, as he was still clinging to him desperately.

“What happened,” Ryker queried, stepping into the room.

“A nightmare, I believe,” Viggo responded, the dragons crowding him as they attempted to help comfort Vilhehn.

“No doubt due to that fever,” Ryker commented.

Viggo nodded in acknowledgment, noting that his little brother’s grip was beginning to loosen, though whether it was due to him calming down or having worn himself out, he was not sure. “Ville, did you have a bad dream,” he inquired solicitously.

“Mm-hmm,” he whimpered, keeping his head buried in Viggo’s shoulder.

“Would you like to talk about it,” he offered. “That can sometimes help you to feel better.”

Ryker joined them on the bed, Toothless and the Skrill reluctantly making room for him. “Viggo used to tell me all his nightmares growing up,” he said as Ville hesitantly turned his head to look at his oldest brother. “Some of them were pretty wild, but not so scary once you realize that it was all in your head,” Ryker observed, reaching out and lightly tapping Vilhehn’s forehead.

Ville nodded slowly and haltingly began, “I-I was back on Berk and-and nothing had changed. Everyone hated me, e-even Gobber. My-my uncle grabbed me, and-and threw me off a cliff,” he shared, tears cascading down his face. “D-dad just stood there and watched,” he wailed. “H-he didn’t d-do anything, even though I-I was g-gonna die.”

“Oh, Ville.” Viggo pulled the boy closer as sobs wracked his body. “You are safe now,” he repeated his affirmation from earlier. “You never have to go back to Berk again.”

Ryker reached over to smooth Vilhehn’s hair, declaring, “If Viggo or I were there, you could bet that your uncle would have been the one flying off the cliff.”

That brought a slight smile to the boy’s face. He sniffed and looked up at his oldest sibling, saying, “Really?”

“Really,” Ryker confirmed. “No one messes with our little brother.”

That seemed to be all the comfort Ville needed, as he suddenly relaxed. “I like having brothers,” he murmured sleepily, though he seemed to be fighting against nodding off. “I don’t want to have another dream like that, though.” He paused before hesitantly asking, “W-would you both stay? I won’t be so scared if you’re both here.”

“Of course,” Viggo assured him.

“And I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” Ryker added.

-o0o-

By the next morning, Ville’s fever had broken, as had the storm. Ryker volunteered to stay back and keep an eye on his youngest brother, seeing as Viggo and Grandfather would be required to ascertain what repairs the village needed.

Vilhehn had eaten and been ordered to get some more rest, but Ryker had barely cleaned up the dishes from breakfast when he heard the soft patter of footsteps on the stairs. “You better have a good reason for being out of bed,” he called out just before a wild mop of auburn hair came into view.

“It’s so boring up there all by myself,” Ville complained.

“You were not by yourself,” Ryker pointed out sternly, gesturing to the Night Fury that had followed his best friend down. “Toothless was with you.”

“Well…” Vilhehn trailed off, clearly having a hard time coming up with an excuse. He eventually settled on saying, “But you and Kuori are here.”

The Rumblehorn gave a gentle whuff from his spot by the fire, seemingly approving of Ville’s reasoning.

Ryker shook his head at how soft he was becoming as he scooped up his little brother and pulled a book off the shelf before settling near the fire. Vilhehn curled up in his lap and after adjusting the fur to make sure the lad would be warm enough, he said, “I used to read this book to Viggo when he was sick. Would you like me to read it to you?”

Ville nodded eagerly and Ryker began, though he only made it about halfway through the first story before his little brother drifted off to sleep, which was exactly why he should have stayed in bed. He couldn’t find it in himself to be mad at the boy, though, as it seemed he had been alone for so much of his short life that it made sense he would find comfort in being close to the people he could trust.

Kuori ambled over from where he had been lounging, lightly nudging Ryker’s arm before looking at the small boy, a hint of concern in his eyes, something that Ryker would never have thought to see in a dragon.

He reached out and rubbed the dragon’s snout. “Yeah, he’ll be alright,” he informed his friend. “He’s a tough one. All us Grimborns are.”

Chapter Text

“Heddi!”

The archivist looked up from her work with a smile on her face. “Why hello, Ville. I haven’t seen you for quite a few days.”

“I got sick,” he informed her as he came over to the desk, Toothless bounding along beside him.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, pulling the boy in for a hug. “I am assuming you are feeling better now, though?”

“Mm-hmm,” he nodded happily. “I’m finally allowed to leave the house, but Viggo says no flying for two more days,” he reported, scrunching up his nose in distaste at having one of his favorite pastimes denied him.

“I’m sure you’ll manage,” she assured him.

Vilhehn hummed noncommittally before looking around and asking, “Where’s Sulka?”

Heddi held back a laugh. Leave it to Ville to expect to see a Stormcutter inside the low-ceilinged building. “She doesn’t exactly fit in the Archives,” she pointed out. “After all, she is rather big.”

“She doesn’t fit inside your house either,” Ville inquired, tilting his head.

“I’m afraid not.”

“Then where did she stay during the storm,” he pressed.

“I’m not sure,” Heddi admitted, “but she seemed to be none the worse for wear.”

“Dragons are very good at finding shelter,” he stated knowingly, before turning the conversation in a slightly different direction. “Viggo says that we’re going to expand our house in the spring.”

“I can see where that would be needed,” Heddi acknowledged. “Three dragons in the house would make it quite crowded.”

“I like it,” Vilhehn proclaimed, throwing his arms around Toothless' neck. “It’s warm and cozy.”

“I suppose that would be true,” she smiled. “So, what brings you here today?”

“You said you would tell more about the different dragons,” he answered looking up at her hopefully.

“That I did.” She glanced at the papers she had been working on and, deeming that they were nothing vital, observed, “I suppose these can wait for later.” She gathered them into a neat stack and went to tuck them into one of the deeper drawers, but not before Ville peeked his head over, curious about what was stored there.

“Is that a Maces and Talons board,” he queried.

“Yes, it is,” she pulled it out and removed the lid of the small set so he could have a better look. “Are you familiar with the game?”

Vilhehn nodded absentmindedly as he moved the pieces around. “Grandfather and Viggo have been teaching me how to play. I never win, though.”

“Well, you are just learning,” Heddi reasoned, thinking that the boy needed to be patient with himself, especially considering Chief Niklas was the best player of their tribe and Viggo was a skilled strategist as well.

“I guess,” he murmured, continuing to fiddle with the pieces.

Seeing how fixated Ville had become on the board, she offered to play a game with him and his eyes lit up.

“Could we?”

“Of course.”

She set the board on the table and pulled another chair over, helping Ville up, though he was so tiny he had to kneel on the seat to see the board clearly. He didn’t seem to mind, though, and quickly selected the Honorable Viking Chief, setting his pieces in their opening positions.

Heddi tried to keep her plays simple, explaining each move as she went in order to help Vilhehn grasp her strategy. She was curious to see what approach he would take, particularly as he grew older and became more skilled, but even now, he had a unique way of playing.

He was on his fourth turn when she commented on what an interesting move he had made.

“Why,” he asked.

“It puts you in a harder position to defend yourself,” she said, gesturing to his pieces which were backed into a corner.

“But this way I won’t lose any of them,” he stated.

Heddi nodded slowly. “That is true…”

Ville seemed to catch on to her hesitation. “But-?”

“But sometimes you have to have to make sacrifices to win,” she revealed, moving one of her hunters into a more vulnerable position to emphasize her point.

He scrunched up his nose as he looked over the board. “Grandfather said this game was designed to help future Chiefs make good decisions. Wouldn’t a good decision mean keeping as many people alive as possible?”

“Yes, but that can mean different things,” Heddi reasoned.

Vilhehn tilted his head. “Like what?”

“What has happened each time you try to keep all your pieces safe,” she inquired. “Do you win?”

“No…” he drawled, seeming to understand the point she was trying to make.

“And in real life, if the Chief is captured, then what happens to his people,” she put forth.

Ville’s brow furrowed as he responded, “I don’t know.”

Seeing this as a valuable teaching moment, Heddi said, “Well, it depends on why the war was fought in the first place, but in most cases, they are either killed anyway or become slaves.” Vilhehn’s eyes went wide in shock before he glanced back to the board, allowing her to continue. “Sometimes, it is worth it to sacrifice a few people, in order to save them all. After all, it is of no benefit to keep your people alive if the Chief is captured in the end.”

“I hope Grandfather or Viggo never have to make decisions like that,” Ville murmured, fingering the Viking Chief.

“Something on that scale does not occur too frequently,” Heddi assured him, seeing that the lad was afraid about losing the family he had so recently gained, “but I am sure they would do what is best for the tribe.”

“They would,” he agreed, seeming to regain his confidence. “And I’ll do what I can to help.” He looked back at their game in progress and said, “So, what should I do now?”

“What do you think,” Heddi prompted him.

Vilhehn analyzed the board before hesitatingly moving one of his hunters and glancing up at her questioningly.

“Not bad,” she remarked, causing the boy to beam. She hated to burst his bubble, but… “Unfortunately, you left yourself open right here,” she pointed out, moving one of her own hunters and capturing his Chief.

Ville sighed and dropped his head in the desk dramatically. “I’m never going to win,” he grumbled.

“I’m sure you will.” She reached over and ruffled his hair. “You just need to practice and learn how to think ahead. That will come with time,” she assured him. “Would you care to try again or would you prefer to look through some of the books on dragons?”

“Dragons,” he exclaimed excitedly, scrambling out of the chair.

Heddi couldn’t help but laugh as he grabbed her hand and began pulling her over to the section where she had shown him the dragon encyclopedia. He was clearly happy to avoid losing another game that day, but she hoped that their match had encouraged him to start looking at things from a different perspective.

Chapter Text

“There has to be something we can do with all these scales,” Viggo muttered to himself, wracking his brain as he tried to think of some product they could create with them. It was true, they engraved nicely, but anyone could collect scales and sell them thusly, plus they would only have a limited appeal. They needed something distinctive. Something that only their tribe could be known for…

He was pulled from his thoughts by his Skrill nudging him. Viggo absentmindedly reached out to stroke her head. “Not now, Rynnätä,” he said, holding up a scale, “unless you know of a use for these that I am unaware of.”

She crooned softly and he could tell by her expression that she had no ideas to offer, not that he was expecting any, but still…

The scales could be sewn onto a base of leather to create armor, but it would be a time intensive product to make. If only there were another way of applying them.

He was distracted once again, but this time by his little brother’s giggles. Ville had been playing with Toothless near the fire, but when Viggo looked up, he could not help but groan. “Toothless! Would you stop licking Ville?!”

“It’s not that bad,” the boy remarked, drool dripping down the side of his face.

“It is,” Viggo countered. “A more tenacious substance I have yet to find.” He paused, a thought coming to him. He was not sure if it would work, but he gestured for Vilhehn to come over and ran a scale through the lad’s hair, collecting enough saliva to stick it to a piece of leather. It held to an extent, but the edges of the scale refused to remain flat, slowly starting to curl up. “Well, so much for that.”

“What are you trying to do,” Ville asked curiously.

“I am attempting to find a use for the plethora of scales we have been collecting,” he shared. “There has to be something we can use them for.” Setting aside his project for now, he took another look at his brother and the sticky mess that was the left side of his head. Viggo made a noise of disgust and stated that they needed to wash Ville’s hair.

“It was just washed,” the lad complained.

“Yes, and then Toothless drooled in it,” Viggo pointed out.

The Night Fury seemed to take offense at that and began warbling, with Ville interpreting for him. “He says his drool isn’t dirty.”

“I am not even going to enter that debate,” Viggo declared. “Do you remember what happened the last time you let the saliva dry?”

Ville wrinkled his nose and reluctantly replied, “Some of my hair broke off.”

“Exactly,” he acknowledged, “thus why we need to get that out now.”

“But it always takes so long,” Vilhehn complained.

“And you can blame that on Toothless’ saliva,” Viggo reasoned.

Ville turned to his Night Fury friend and said, “You wouldn’t by any chance stop licking me, would ya, bud,” only to be met with a face full of dragon tongue.

As Ville sputtered due to some of the saliva getting into his mouth, Ryker chuckled from where he had been sharpening his daggers and drily observed, “I think that’s a no.”

“Come along, Ville,” Viggo said, guiding the boy over to the washbasin while Toothless let out a draconic laugh, more than pleased at having had the final say.

It took a good twenty minutes to get all the saliva sluiced out of Ville’s hair and as the boy returned to the fire he eyed his best friend warily, not ready to get licked again, much to the adults’ amusement.

As Viggo resumed his seat, he noticed a misshapen black lump on the hearth. “What is this?”

Vilhehn scooted closer and said, “It looks like one of Toothless’ scales, only melted.”

Viggo grabbed the poker and carefully nudged the scale further from the fire, cautiously hovering his hand over it to find that though the scale was warm it was not hot and could be picked up. Being exposed to the prolonged heat had also made the scale more malleable. Wanting to see how long it took for a scale to reach this state, he set another one near the fire before rolling the already heated scale into a ball.

“Is that good,” Ville asked, having come to stand next to his chair.

“If it holds its shape, then maybe,” Viggo conceded. “These could be used to make beads for jewelry or perhaps formed into other shapes for decorative pieces, but it would still have limited uses.” He reached for the scale he had stuck to the leather using Toothless’ saliva and took another look, feeling that there was some aspect he was missing.

“Maybe the issue has more to do with the size of the scale,” he theorized. “If they were smaller or perhaps crushed and mixed into the adhesive…” That was it! Grabbing an old bowl they did not use anymore, Viggo approached the Night Fury and said, “Toothless, I cannot believe I am asking this, but could you please provide me with some of your saliva?”

Unfortunately, he was not specific enough and Toothless licked his arm thoroughly.

“That was not what I meant and you know it,” he scolded the unrepentant Night Fury as the rest of his family laughed. At least Rynnätä took his side, batting Toothless’ head as she chittered, apparently chastising him for making a mess of her friend.

Viggo wiped off as much saliva as he could, depositing it in the bowl as Ryker asked, “What exactly are you trying to do, brother?”

“I am not quite sure,” he admitted, staring at the collected saliva before retrieving two more bowls. “Rynnätä, would you be a dear?”

She happily complied, giving him a generous amount of her saliva before he turned to his brother’s dragon.

“Kuori, you as well.”

With three bowls of dragon spit now in front of him, he reached into the first one, trying to determine its feel before moving on to the next one. “Hmm, similar textures, though not quite the same,” he observed. “I supposed that would make sense as their mouths would need some sort of protection from their fires. Toothless’ is most definitely the stickiest, while Rynnätä’s is the thinnest. But the main question is…” He trailed off as he grabbed a handful of the discarded scales they had been collecting, depositing several into each bowl before grinding them with a pestle, creating a thick, paint-like material.

“That’s so cool,” Ville exclaimed, having been eagerly watching his every move.

“That it is,” he agreed, smearing the concoction on leather scraps, a different piece for each bowl, “but will it increase the strength of the leather? That is what we must wait to find out.”

Having done as much as he could for now, Viggo went to wash off what remained of Toothless’ saliva and rejoined his family.

By the time they went to bed, the leather was still wet and nothing had changed by morning either, much to Viggo’s disappointment.

“So much for that idea,” he muttered, prepared to scrap the idea and begin again.

“Maybe it needs to be a lot hotter,” his little brother suggested.

“What do you mean, Ville?”

“You said how it would need to protect their mouth from their fire. And their scales do the same thing,” he reasoned. “So maybe it needs to get extra hot to dry.”

It was a possibility and there would be no damage done if it did not work, seeing as the scraps would be discarded regardless. “Let us give it a try,” Viggo agreed, collecting the scraps and heading back upstairs where he could set them on the stone slab they had procured for Toothless. The Night Fury had followed them up and was happy to lend his aid to their experiment.

Much to Viggo’s surprise, it actually worked. “That was a brilliant idea, Ville,” he praised his younger brother, as they took a closer look at the scraps. They were dry and there was no damage done, leading him to wonder if leather created with this process would be as effective as dragon skin in protecting from flame.

When he voiced his question, Ville eagerly inquired if they could try it on a larger piece.

“I think that would be wise,” he responded, determined to collect the needed supplies that afternoon.

It was with much relief that Viggo discovered the method did indeed work, though he found that certain species’ saliva worked better than others. Still, fireproof leather would be a wise use of their resources and something that would be highly desirable to traders or at markets, not only for its unique qualities but also for the multitude of colors that it could be produced in. It would most definitely put them on the map and should bring in enough gold to allow them to support themselves without resorting back to the dragon trade.

Chapter Text

Ryker let Kuori take the lead while he kept an eye on Vilhehn and Toothless. The two youngsters couldn’t seem to help but try and push the boundaries, requiring constant supervision and a firm hand. At least the weather was warmer now, he thought, but then again, if it were still the middle of winter, they wouldn’t be out here.

As spring crept into their part of the world, they had begun making preparations to expand certain buildings in the village as well as go on…well, they wouldn’t be considered hunts anymore, but they did need to find more dragons to bring back to Tulva. Ryker had been planning on assembling a crew and taking out the ships, but then Ville had piped up, saying it would be so much easier to go on dragonback. So here they were, just the two of them and their dragons on an extended camping trip, with the goal to collect dragons as they went. Viggo would have joined them, but Grandfather had required his help overseeing the construction, not to mention the fact that he was finishing his training so that he would be ready to take over as Chief at the beginning of summer.

The first island they stopped at yielded nothing more than a few Terrors, but seeing as they would not be able to reach their next destination before nightfall, Ryker declared his intention to set up camp. Ville lent a hand but was soon pulled into a game the Terrors had started, running around and screeching just like the small dragons. 

It still boggled Ryker’s mind every time he heard his youngest brother make those noises, an occurrence which was becoming more and more frequent as he had been diligently working all winter to improve his grasp of the dragon’s tongue.

Finally, Vilhehn seemed to tire out, a feat in itself, and plopped down next to the fire, a green and brown Terrible Terror draping itself around his neck. Ryker didn’t think anything of it at the time, but as their journey continued, the same Terror continually made his way back to Ville.

On their second to last stop, Ryker finally admitted to himself that Ville had made another friend, and he felt that he had better speak up before the lad got even more attached. “You do remember what Viggo said,” he reminded his brother as they walked through the forest, Kuori sniffing out any dragons that may be nearby. “We can’t allow you to keep all the dragons you become friends with.”

“But that was when you were selling them,” Vilhehn reasoned logically. “We don’t do that anymore.”

“Yes, but we already have three dragons at home,” Ryker pointed out.

“Sharpshot is such a little dragon, though,” Ville wheedled, seeming to perk up as he added, “and by the time we get back, I bet the changes to our hut will be done and there will be plenty of room.”

Seeing as his brother had already named the Terror, Ryker feared this was a losing battle, but he was not about to give up so easily. “What about Toothless,” he put forth. “I can’t think he would be happy to share your attention.”

The Night Fury warbled from where he was keeping pace alongside them, though unfortunately, it did not appear that he was outright objecting to Sharpshot’s continued presence. “He says that I’m his, first and always,” Vilhehn interpreted, “but he won’t object to me making other friends, as long as they know their place.”

Ryker held back a sigh before saying, “Don’t say I didn’t warn you if your new friend is not allowed to stay.”

“Would you turn him away,” Ville asked, his big, green eyes pleading for Ryker to reject such a heinous act.

“My opinion is irrelevant,” he replied, more than glad that the final decision was not up to him. “It is Grandfather you will have to convince.”

“That’s easy,” Vilhehn commented offhandedly as he skipped ahead.

“Is it now?”

“Mm-hmm,” the boy nodded. “Especially because he’ll be too focused on his new friend to even notice that Sharpshot is around.”

Ryker narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “What new friend?”

“The one we’re going to find for him,” Ville declared as if that was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Does he know about this,” Ryker inquired, thinking that his brother was about to get himself into a lot of trouble.

“It’s going to be a surprise,” he revealed happily. The forest was opening up a bit and Vilhehn soon pointed out some new dragons ahead of them, before racing over without a by your leave.

“Ville-” Ryker cut himself off. After all, what was the point in calling out for the boy when he was long gone? He honestly didn’t know why he even bothered anymore. At least Toothless could keep up with Ville and would ensure the kid was safe. 

By the time Ryker joined them, all the dragons seemed to be fawning over his brother, but there was one dragon in particular that Vilhehn seemed focused on chattering with, a rather large, deep blue Monstrous Nightmare.

Seeing his brother nearby, Ville glanced over at him with a huge smile. “Look, Ryker! Isn’t he perfect?!”

“He is a fine-looking dragon,” he agreed, having a feeling that he knew where Vilhehn was going with this.

“He’s older, just like Grandfather,” the boy explained, rubbing the Nightmare’s jaw, much to the dragon’s delight. “I think they’ll get along splendidly.”

Ryker couldn’t help but think that this would be interesting to watch. But as for who would come out victorious…he had a strong suspicion it would be Vilhehn. The kid was just so hard to say no to.

-o0o-

“Grandfather! Grandfather!”

Niklas turned around to see his youngest grandson running straight for him, a veritable horde of dragons landing in the plaza behind him. “Hello there, Ville,” he greeted to boy. “I see you made it back safe and sound and with many new friends for our tribe.”

“Uh-huh,” the lad nodded eagerly, grabbing his hand and attempting to tug him over. “You’ve got to come meet them.”

“I am a little busy right now,” he said firmly.

“Please,” Vilhehn begged, quickly adjusting his plea to, “Just meet one of them?”

“Oh, alright,” he gave in, unable to resist his grandson’s charm. “But make it snappy.”

Ville beamed and pulled him directly toward a deep blue Nightmare, dropping his hand as soon as he was in front of the dragon.

“And who is this,” Niklas inquired.

“I thought I’d let you name him,” Ville responded cheerfully.

He glanced at his grandson with one eyebrow raised. “Why me?”

“Because I think you’d be good friends,” Vilhehn proclaimed.

Niklas pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ville, three dragons in the house are enough.” His grandson mumbled something under his breath, but he did not catch it. “What was that?”

“Four,” Vilhehn repeated, his eyes focused on the circles he was making in the dirt with his boot. “There’s kind of a Terror that’s become attached to me. But he’s really small,” he hastily added. “He won’t take up much space.”

“Vilhehn, we can not just-” He broke off as the Nightmare started nuzzling him. “What is he doing?”

“He likes you,” Ville confided, a huge smile on his face. “I knew you’d be perfect for each other!”

“He is a magnificent creature,” Niklas wavered, reaching out a hand for the dragon to sniff as he absentmindedly wondered how such a small child had managed to turn their lives so thoroughly upside down. “I suppose it is a good thing our hut expansion has been put on hold," he observed wryly, "as we will need to make some adjustments.”

“Really?!”

Niklas nodded. “Yes, but no more dragons,” he insisted, shaking his finger at his unrepentant grandson. “This is where I draw the line.”

Chapter Text

“We were right to expect this,” Viggo admitted, sorting through a stack of parchment as he entered the front door of their home, “but it does not make things any easier.”

“I am sure your responses will be adequate,” his grandfather remarked, following him inside and shutting the door behind them and their dragons.

“What responses,” Vilhehn asked, popping up in front of him. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, Ville,” he reassured his little brother. “Everything is alright. How did your training with Ryker go today?”

“It was good,” Ville replied happily. “He said that maybe soon I can start using a real sword.”

Viggo quirked an eyebrow and glanced skeptically at Ryker. “Are you sure that is wise, brother?”

Ryker nodded, saying, “He’s almost ready. Just needs a bit more practice.” Viggo’s expression must not have been as neutral as he thought it was as his older brother looked at him knowingly and added, “I won’t let any harm come to him.”

“I know you would not,” he nodded in acknowledgment, sitting down at the desk and pulling out some fresh parchment along with a quill and some ink.

Ville came to stand at his side and hesitantly asked, “Are you sure everything’s okay? You don’t look very happy.”

He had not wanted to bring this up with his little brother around, but it was too late as he had not been watching his words carefully enough upon arriving home. “With the warmer weather officially here, the trading season has begun,” he explained, “meaning that we are starting to receive contracts.”

“For what,” Ville queried, tilting his head.

“For dragons,” he responded, noting his little brother’s instant moue of distaste. “Considering how you have flipped our lives on end, though,” he reached out and ruffled the boy’s hair, bringing a smile back to his face, “I have many responses to write that none will be pleased to receive.”

“Maybe we could convince them that dragons are good, too,” Vilhehn suggested hopefully.

“That is a wonderful ideal,” Viggo conceded, “but most tribes are not as forward-thinking as ours.” Shaking his head, he continued, “No, I will simply need to word my responses carefully so they do not suspect anything.”

Ville scrunched up his face at that remark. “What’s wrong with us being friends with the dragons?”

“Nothing, Ville,” he smiled at his brother, “but other tribes might think we have gone…soft, for lack of a better word.”

“Take them up with that daredevil,” Ryker commented, gesturing toward Toothless, “and see if they still call us soft.”

Vilhehn giggled at that and Viggo could not help a slight chuckle himself. “I would have to agree with you, brother, but seeing as how we do not…wrangle dragons anymore, most Vikings will see us as weaker,” he stated for Ville’s benefit. “It will be best to keep our friendship with the dragons quiet. Let them think that we are looking to our tribe’s safety and have cut back on dragon sales, having found a better and more profitable way to make the dragons work for us.”

“That sounds so mean, though,” Ville said softly, clearly not pleased at the misrepresentation.

“Then it is a good thing that is not how matters truly stand, is it not,” Viggo reasoned. Noting that Ville was still not thrilled, he wrapped an arm around the lad’s shoulder and said, “Unfortunately, a bit of prevarication in this instance would not go amiss. Word will soon spread and we will not have to deal with these requests any longer.

Ville nodded halfheartedly, his gaze moving to the yellow Terrible Terror that was currently curling up on the desk. With his brother’s attention somewhat diverted, Viggo set about writing out his refusal for the first contract, though he did not get very far before Vilhehn spoke up with another question.

“Do you ever get requests for something other than selling dragons?”

“Mmm, occasionally,” he distractedly answered as he pondered how best to word his letter.

“Like what,” Ville asked as he scratched around Apuri’s horns, the Terror rumbling in contentment.

For all that Apuri was his friend, Viggo sometimes thought the dragon preferred Vilhehn over him. Then again, all the dragons adored his little brother, so this was nothing new. Shaking such thoughts from his head, he returned to the conversation, responding, “Some tribes will reach out to ask if we can clear the dragons from their island.”

“We could do that, though, couldn’t we,” Ville queried, a hopeful look on his face.

“I suppose,” Viggo drawled, “but we would need to maintain the facade that we are hunters, catching and caging the dragons.”

“Oh…” Vilhehn murmured, his shoulders dropping. He continued to pet the Terror, eventually saying, “Maybe the dragons wouldn’t mind so much if they knew it was only temporary.”

“And how would we tell them that,” Viggo inquired.

“Well…”

Knowing exactly what that look on his brother’s face meant, Viggo hastened to say, “You are not going.”

“But I could help,” Ville exclaimed. “Shouldn’t we try to help the dragons and get them out of bad situations?”

“You are too young,” Grandfather stated firmly, adding his voice to the discussion. “And that is not just for your own safety, Vilhehn. Having a lone child on board with a group of hunters would be suspicious.”

Ville pouted, but not for long. “Maybe the Terrors could help,” he proposed, gesturing to Apuri. “They could hide in a satchel until you’re far enough from the village and then they could ask the other dragons to go with you peacefully.”

“Would the Terrors be able to convince the others that it is not a trap, though,” Viggo pressed.

His little brother’s face fell. “I-I don’t know.”

“I am not saying it is a bad idea, Ville, just one that needs a bit more thought,” he said encouragingly, not wanting the boy to feel disheartened. “That kind of request does not come in as often, maybe once every year or two. We will continue to think on this idea,” he reassured his brother, “and revisit the topic when such a request is received, alright?”

Vilhehn nodded and with that topic settled, Viggo got to work turning down the contracts they had received. Most were return customers and he hoped that since they would be aware of his imminent ascension to Chief, they would assume that it was nothing more than a new ruler instituting a new method of trade. He also heavily hinted that the changes were made to ensure the strength and longevity of their tribe. After all, there was no denying that hunting dragons was a dangerous work and one that had lost them many men.

He hoped it would be enough and sealed the scroll before starting on the next one, Vilhehn’s idea for safely removing dragons hovering in the back of his mind. He was sure they could make it work with just a little more thought, but that would have to wait until later as he still had several more responses to go.

Chapter Text

There was a grand celebration on Tulva when Viggo was made Chief and Ville was enjoying every moment of it. Unlike back on Berk, he wasn’t shuffled to the side and told he didn’t belong and to go home. Here, everyone was happy to see him and his family was proud to have him at their side. Eventually, his friends pulled him into a game and all was going well. At least it was until Ville paused to get a little more food on his way back to his family and overheard a conversation that threw his world on end.

“Won’t be long now,” Ingrid, the master seamstress observed.

“Too true,” Hugo’s mom responded. “The only question is, will he marry one of our girls or form an alliance with another tribe?”

“Hard to say,” Ingrid replied, “especially with all the changes in the last year. An alliance could be to our benefit, but then again, this way of life isn’t for everyone.”

Ville was a little confused as to what they were talking about, but when he looked up at the two women, he noticed that they were watching Viggo as he mingled with the villagers and a horrible sinking feeling made itself known in his stomach. He abandoned the plate he had been filling, his appetite gone, and made his way over to his grandfather and Ryker, sitting down glumly as he realized that he had finally found a family, only for it to be torn apart.

“You alright, Vilhehn?”

“Huh? Oh, yes, Grandfather,” he said, still somewhat lost in his thoughts.

“It’s getting late,” Ryker remarked, getting to his feet. “Celebration or not, it’s past your bedtime.”

Ville nodded drearily and grabbed onto his brother’s outstretched hand. He didn’t feel like staying any longer anyway.

As they were making their way to the doors of the Great Hall, they came across Viggo who asked where they off to.

“To see Ville to bed,” Ryker answered.

“I will take him,“ Viggo offered, scooping the lad up, much to Ville’s surprise.

“But the celebration is still in full swing,” Ryker pointed out, voicing Vilhehn’s thoughts.

“I do not need to be here for it to continue,” Viggo stated. “As it was, I was not planning on remaining until the end considering there is much work to do tomorrow.” Ville allowed himself to relax as Viggo fell into step with Ryker, saying, “Let us head home.”

-o0o-

As Viggo was tucking his little brother in, he couldn’t help but feel that something was bothering the lad. His theory was proven correct when, just as he was about to step away from the bed, Vilhehn hesitantly said his name.

“Yes, Ville?”

“Are things going to change now that you’re Chief,” the boy asked softly.

“What do you mean,” Viggo inquired, taking a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Well,” Ville drawled, seeming to debate with himself if he should say anything or not. “I heard some people talking about how you’ll need to get married so- so you can have an heir,” he revealed, keeping his gaze on his furs. “If you get married, does that mean you’ll leave to go live in your own house?”

Viggo reached out and lifted the lad’s chin so that their eyes met. “What part of this concerns you most, Ville?”

“Why?”

“So, I know how to reassure you that I am not going anywhere,” he declared, his brother’s eyes lighting up.

“You’re not,” Ville repeated, his relief more than clear.

“Of course not,” Viggo reaffirmed, pulling the boy into his lap. “There is plenty of room in our house now, so, if I were to get married, my wife would come to live with us.”

“Would…” Ville trailed off and abandoned his question, burying his face in his brother’s shoulder.

“Would what,” he gently pressed, cradling his brother in his arms. “I assure you, Ville, I will not be upset with what you have to say.”

“Would you spend less time with me,” the lad murmured.

“I find that highly unlikely,” Viggo responded firmly. “I treasure our time together.”

“But what if your wife doesn’t like me,” Vilhehn proposed, looking up at him fearfully.

“I would never marry someone who could care so little for my family.” That seemed to reassure his brother somewhat, but… “Ville…what is it you are not telling me?”

The boy began picking at his nightshirt, refusing to make eye contact. “What-what if it’s part of an alliance and y-you don’t know her and she winds up hating me and the dragons. W-what will happen then?”

Viggo’s heart broke to see his brother so unsure. He had come so far in the time he had lived with them, but clearly his past still had a tight hold on him and he was worried about being ignored and neglected once again. “Ville, you are my brother. I will never tolerate someone treating you that way,” he proclaimed.

“But back on Berk-”

“Are we on Berk,” Viggo interrupted.

“Well, no…”

“Exactly,” Viggo reasoned, setting his hands on Vilhehn’s small shoulders. “And as long as I am Chief of Tulva and your brother, I will not let anyone harm you. That is my promise to you and I never go back on my word.”

Ville took a shaky breath and nodded, though he was not able to hold back the tears he had been trying to keep at bay.

Viggo held him close, rubbing his back in a soothing manner as he said, “I am sure Ryker would promise you the same if you asked him. And as for me marrying, it is not something I see happening in the near future,” he admitted, “despite the gossip that is apparently running rampant throughout the village, but when I do find someone, I will not marry her without your permission, alright?”

His brother sniffed and gave him a watery smile. “Alright.”

He stayed there until Vilhehn fell asleep, wanting to reassure the boy that he would always be there for him when he needed him.

Little did he know, though, that Ville had decided if they had to have someone else in their family, there was only one person he would want it to be.

-o0o-

It was almost dinner time and Viggo was wondering what could be keeping his little brother as Ville was normally home by this time. He was just about to go and search for him when Toothless burst in, his best friend on his tail, pulling a laughing Heddi in with him.

“Ville invited me for dinner,” she told them. “I hope that’s okay.”

“Of course,” Grandfather said, waving her over to the table. “Please, join us.”

With Heddi joining them, dinner was lively affair, not that it was normally calm (that would be impossible with Ville, Toothless, and the Terrors), but she always seemed to lighten the mood wherever she was.

As they were clearing the table, Vilhehn spoke up. “Toothless said it’s a nice night for a flight.”

“Ville, it is almost your bedtime,” Viggo replied sternly.

“I know, but you and Heddi can go,” he suggested hopefully.

“I-”

“That sounds like a lovely idea,” Heddi chimed in, turning to look at him. “What do you say, Viggo?”

“I suppose that would be pleasant,” he agreed, wondering what his little brother could be up to. “Ryker, could you-”

“I can take care of Ville,” Grandfather offered, cutting him off. “You young ones go enjoy yourself.”

“But I want Ryker to tuck me in,” Ville complained, and that was when Viggo’s suspicions kicked into full gear.

Ryker, though, seemed to miss that calculating look on their youngest brother’s face and simply said, “Do you, now?”

Vilhehn nodded eagerly.

“Looks like I’ll be taking a rain check then,” Ryker proclaimed, scooping Ville up and carrying him under his arm. “Come on, you.”

The boy’s laughter echoed down the stairs as Viggo held the front door open for Heddi. They were soon in the air on their respective dragons, the silence hanging awkwardly between them.

“I apologize for the way Ville was acting tonight,” Viggo finally said, having an idea of what the lad had been plotting.

“He seems to have gotten some notion stuck in his head,” Heddi observed, crushing Viggo's hope that she had remained oblivious. “Do you know what’s going on?”

Viggo sighed. “He overheard some gossip at the celebration and was worried about what kind of woman I would marry.”

“Ah, that explains why he said I would make a good sister,” she commented casually.

“He said what?!”

“Calm down, Viggo,” Heddi chided him. “He’s only seven, and a rather bold seven-year-old at that…at least with people he’s comfortable with.”

“But still… I am so sorry, Heddi,” he apologized, feeling thoroughly embarrassed.

“For what?”

“For Vilhehn’s attempt at playing matchmaker,” he clarified, wishing he was anywhere else but here.

“Do you see me complaining,” she queried, one eyebrow quirked delicately.

“I- What?”

Heddi rolled her eyes. “For someone so terribly brilliant, you can be rather dense.”

“What are you talking about,” Viggo inquired, feeling completely lost.

“Vilhehn isn’t the only reason I’ve spent so much time around your family this last year,” she revealed, giving a slight shrug before shooting him a smile. “I like the softer side he brings out in you.”

Viggo was at a loss for words, having not expected this turn of events, not once in a million years.

“I get that there’s a lot of changes going on in the tribe right now, Chief,” Heddi continued, winking at him boldly, “but I wouldn’t object to falling in with Ville’s plans and seeing where things go.” At Viggo’s continued silence, she added, “But that’s up to you. Either way, I hope we can remain friends.” She leaned over to pat Sulka and said, “I’d better get going now. Good night.”

“Good night,” Viggo replied, though by the time he got the words out, Heddi was most likely too far away to have heard them. Her words, though, were still echoing in his mind. “Rynnätä, what just happened?”

The Skill growled and tossed her head happily, clearly pleased with this new development, causing Viggo to groan.

“Not you, too.”

Chapter Text

Viggo could not help but smile as he pulled his little brother back from practically hanging over the railing of the ship. “Are you excited Ville?”

“Uh-huh,” the boy nodded eagerly. “I can’t wait to see Dagur. It’s been so long. But I still don’t understand why we couldn’t just fly there,” he commented, his little brow furrowing.

“Because the Berserkers still kill dragons,” Viggo explained for the umpteenth time.

Vilhehn did not disappoint, coming back with the same response he had been using for their entire journey. “But if someone was riding the dragon-”

“I am not prepared to risk it,” Viggo maintained. “In addition, this will allow us a place to stay so as not to put any demands on your friend’s family.”

“I guess,” Ville replied, though Viggo privately thought that if the journey went on for much longer they would be having this conversation again as his brother was impatient to arrive. “I can’t wait for Dagur to meet Toothless and Sleuther.”

“Why did you insist on the Triple Stryke joining us,” Viggo inquired. “And this time I want the real answer.”

The dragon had appeared on Tulva the day before they were set to depart and Ville had refused to leave without him, claiming that it was not fair to leave him since none of the Stormhearts could really understand him. Viggo had reluctantly given in as they would never be able to depart otherwise, but he had a feeling that Ville was plotting something more.

“Well,” his little brother drawled, “he reminds me a lot of Dagur and I think they’d get along well.”

Viggo held back a sigh and tried to reason with his little brother. “Vilhehn, you cannot expect the Berserkers to change their whole way of life because of one dragon.”

“The Stormhearts did,” he countered.

“Well, yes, but-”

“So, why couldn’t the Berserkers do the same,” he insisted, effectively squashing Viggo’s defense.

“Always a pleasure seeing you bested by a seven-year-old,” Ryker remarked as he came to join them.

“Thank you, Ryker, for your support,” Viggo responded drily.

“Anytime, brother,” he smirked before sharing what he had come to tell them in the first place. “We should make port within an hour or two.”

That was welcome news, especially as it sent Vilhehn racing around the deck in excitement, Toothless bounding along beside him. Their mad dash eventually turned into a game of chase, one that would hopefully wear them out enough so that they would behave upon reaching Berserker Island.

As the island appeared on the horizon, though, Toothless stopped short and began to whine, pawing at his ears. Ville rushed to his friend’s side, letting out a confused chirp before the two of them began warbling at one another.

“Is everything alright,” Viggo asked as he knelt beside them.

“Toothless hears a voice telling him to flee,” Vilhehn revealed. “I think it’s Bevroren.”

None of that made any sense to Viggo, but he had learned to trust that his brother never made things up, at least not when it was pertaining to dragons. “I am sorry, Ville, but I do not understand what you mean.”

“Bevroren,” the lad repeated like that should make everything clear. “He’s the first dragon that I became friends with, the one who started teaching me the dragon’s tongue. He told me that he doesn’t like to be bothered by other dragons and he keeps them away. That’s why there aren’t raids here,” he explained. “But I didn’t think that would apply to friendly dragons,” he murmured as he tried to comfort Toothless. “I’ll have to tell him to stop while we’re here…and see if he’d allow Sleuther to stay.”

Noticing how much the Night Fury was struggling, Viggo suggested, “Perhaps in the meantime, we should take Toothless below deck. I cannot hear the others raising a fuss so he might not be as affected there, though we may need to put him in a pen, just to be on the safe side.”

As Viggo began shepherding the dragon toward the hatch, Vilhehn said, “Do we have to close the pen?”

“What will happen if Toothless listens to Bevroren,” Viggo queried.

“I-I guess he would leave, but I don’t know where he would end up or how long it would take him to find me again,” Ville confessed, glancing sorrowfully at his best friend. “I’m sorry, Toothless, but I think the pen might be for the best,” he admitted. “You, too, Sleuther.”

The dragons were not exactly pleased, but they complied without too much grumbling. Rynnätä and Kuori were already snoozing in the pens they had claimed for the journey and Viggo closed their doors, as well as putting Sharpshot and Apuri in smaller cages they could not escape from. His theory had proven correct that in the bowels of the ship, the dragons were seemingly not affected by Bevroren’s voice, whatever that meant, but Viggo preferred not to take any chances when it came to their friends becoming lost.

With the dragons taken care of, he crouched next to his little brother and asked, “Do you know where this Bevroren is?”

Vilhehn crinkled his nose. “Kind of… He was in the mountain caves, I just don’t know where the entrance is…but I can ask Dagur to take me there,” he declared.

“Take us,” Viggo corrected him. At Ville’s questioning look, he added, “You may know this dragon, but I will not allow you to run wild on a strange island where I can not trust that the people will treat you properly.”

His little brother threw his arms around his neck, hugging him tightly as he said, “Thank you, Viggo.” Pulling back, Ville grinned and proclaimed, “This’ll be great! I know you’re going to like Bevroren.”

Hearing the commotion on the deck signaling their pulling into the harbor, Viggo smiled at his brother and took his hand, leading him back up to the deck as he reminded him that he had to act like this was his first time meeting everybody.

Thankfully, Vilhehn was able to keep up the pretense, as was Dagur, though Viggo could tell the two boys were practically bursting at the seams to run off together. They had to contain themselves until after the introductions were complete, though. After Chief Oswald introduced them to his daughter, he suggested that Dagur might like to show his new friend around and the two were off like a shot, with Viggo calling out for them to slow down. They did, but not until they had reached the forest and were on their way to the caves.

“Why did you wanna come here,” Dagur inquired grumpily, kicking a stone on the cave floor. “I would’ve thought you’d seen enough of this place last year.”

“I don’t care about the cave,” Ville replied, rolling his eyes, “it’s what’s in it.”

“There’s nothing in these caves,” Dagur protested.

“You just don’t know where to look,” Vilhehn countered. “Bevroren,” he called, before letting out a mighty roar for one so small.

Dagur stared at his friend in shock. “What was that?”

“A greeting,“ Ville remarked, before turning back to the hollow center of the mountain. “I’ve come to visit and maybe ask a favor.”

All was silent for a moment, though Ville seemed to be listening intently before he began growling what Viggo assumed was a response, though to what, he was not sure. “They won’t hurt you. I promise,” he said, finally switching back to Norse.

There was a scuffing sound from below them when suddenly the largest dragon Viggo had ever seen rose from the depths of the icy cavern. He was not even aware that dragons existed on such a scale. “Vilhehn, what is that,” he whispered warily.

“This is Bevroren,” he said, introducing the colossal dragon. Turning back to the beast as Viggo tried to get over his shock, Ville pushed on. “I want you to meet one of my new brothers, Viggo. He’s the best. And this is Dagur,” he shared, gesturing to his friend who was in a similar state of astonishment. “He’s heir to the Berserkers, the people who live here. We came to visit and brought some dragon friends with us, but your call is bothering them. Could you please stop it, just while we’re here,” Vilhehn requested hopefully.

There was a pause before Ville smiled and shared, “He says he’ll do it for me.”

Viggo knew his brother was special, but how could he understand this dragon without words? “Ville, I’ve heard you talk with dragons before, but this one is not-”

“Is not what?”

Viggo froze and next to him, Vilhehn started bouncing up and down. “Did you hear him, too?”

Viggo nodded slowly, not understanding what was occurring. “How does he-?”

“It is a gift unique to my species.”

“What about Dagur,” Ville jumped in, returning them to their previous conversation. “I-I brought a dragon that I think he could become friends with, but if he can’t stay…”

“I will allow it on the condition that these caves are off-limit,” Bevroren consented. “No dragon or human may approach my nest without my permission.”

“I think that’s fair,” Vilhehn replied, glancing up at Viggo for his agreement which he was quick to give. “So if the other Berserkers decide to make dragons friends too, that would be okay then?”

“As long as they do not plague me, then I suppose I can allow it.”

“Thank you, Bevroren,” Ville exclaimed, practically giving Viggo a heart attack as the boy threw himself at the enormous dragon, and began scratching the massive chin.

Viggo finally glanced at Dagur to see the poor lad was still trying to process what exactly was going on and he could not blame him. It was quite a bit to wrap one’s head around.

“We’ll leave you in peace now,” Ville said, rejoining them and cheerfully waving at the dragon.

“Visit me once more before you depart.”

“I will,” the boy called over his shoulder, adding a little chirp at the end.

Viggo had thought that his little brother was past surprising him, but that clearly was not true. Who knew what other surprises would lay in store as the years passed by?

Chapter Text

Their visit to Berserker Island had gone quite well, even if it did leave Viggo with a lot to do upon returning home. It had been worth it though.

As Ville had predicted, Dagur and Sleuther took to one another immediately and quickly became firm friends. Oswald had been slightly skeptical at first, but seeing how gentle the dragons were with the boys, he quickly came around. Being such a peaceful man whose island had never been plagued by raids in the first place, he had no problem accepting the change and his people were quick to follow his lead. It probably helped that the Berserkers were rather reckless and eager to try anything even remotely dangerous.

All told, they stayed for a little over two weeks, helping the tribe to find a few more dragons to bond with and explaining what adaptations might need to be made to the village as well as precautions that may need to be taken. Oswald took their words to heart but decided to take a slightly different approach to incorporating the dragons into their tribe. After all, legend had it that their ancestors had used harnessed Skrills in battle, therefore they used that knowledge to their advantage, creating the belief that they controlled the beasts.

It worked for them, though Viggo much preferred keeping their own dragons out of sight. Of course, it helped that the port on Tulva was so far from the village, and due to their tribe’s cutthroat history, most traders only stayed long enough to do business, not even making the journey to the village.

Before they left, Ville had visited Bevroren once more as promised, even going so far as to introduce Oswald, as well as Sleuther, so that the mighty dragon would know who to speak with if there was ever a problem. Oswald and Dagur promised to keep the dragon’s existence a secret and Bevroren gave them permission to check in once a year, if only to make sure that no one was crossing any boundaries. 

Just before they departed, Oswald took the opportunity to express his delight at how well Vilhehn was doing. “It’s like he’s a different boy,” he stated, “though with his new name and new family, I suppose he is.”

“He has been a more than welcome addition,” Viggo responded, smiling fondly as he watched his little brother race by. “I am glad you thought to ask us first.”

“As am I,” Oswald agreed. “I know those who helped him will be glad to hear how he is thriving, though there are certain details I will refrain from telling them, both for his safety and theirs,” he said, sending a glance toward the dragons.

They soon found themselves saying farewell to their Berserker friends and, regardless of the fact that Ville had already set up a way for him and Dagur to exchange messages via Sharpshot, both boys were already moping at their coming separation. It did help, though, that Oswald promised to bring Dagur with him to Tulva next year when he came for the renewal of their recently formed treaty.

The journey home was much the same as it had been on the way there. They made good time, but Vilhehn still complained about how long it took and that they should have just flown. He soon stopped his complaints, though, when every time Ryker heard him he would make him practice with his sword. It was not that he did not like training with his older brother, but not to that extent.

Viggo was kept busy upon their return, as even though Grandfather had taken care of things while they were away, there was still much to do, especially as it was coming up to the year anniversary of when Vilhehn had officially become part of their family and they wanted to do something to celebrate.

They decided to keep things simple and just spend the day together, having a special dinner at home with all of Ville’s favorites. When asked if he wanted any of his friends to join them, he had said no, just them and their dragons, though he did ask if Heddi could be included. For all that Viggo wondered if his little brother was still hoping to have Heddi as his sister, he could not deny that the two of them were very close and would not refuse his brother’s request, particularly since he had been wanting to speak with Heddi regardless.

Of course, before he could say anything, she had sidled up to where he was standing off to the side, quietly saying, “You’ve been avoiding me.”

“In all fairness, I have been gone,” he replied, “what with Ville wanting to visit his friend and all.”

“And when you got back?”

“There was a lot to catch up on,” he explained. Seeing the disbelief on her face, he added, “Truly, Heddi, it was not done intentionally.”

She hummed noncommittally and looked away, clearly still doubting the truth of his words. “I meant what I said,” she put forth. “I don’t want things to be awkward between us.”

“Me neither,” Viggo agreed before taking a deep breath and continuing. “I have been giving it a lot of thought and…”

“And,” she prompted when he faltered, eying him curiously.

He had her full attention and it was now or never. “Would you be amenable to a courtship?”

She smiled at him and noted, “I do believe I already made my stance clear.”

“Well, yes,” he acknowledged, gesturing awkwardly, “but for the sake of formality and all.”

She shook her head slightly, the smile still lingering on her lips. “I would be happy to accept your offer.”

Viggo felt himself let go of the breath he had unconsciously been holding. “I am glad.”

“So am I,” she responded archly.

He could not help but chuckle, partly due to his relief and partly due to her happiness that seemed to mirror his own. “Let us not tell Ville just yet though,” he requested, glancing over to where his little brother was seated in their grandfather’s lap, seeming to regale him with some tale.

“Are you sure,” Heddi queried. “He would think it was a great gift for this most special occasion.”

“I do not want to get his hopes up, in case things do not…” He trailed off, unsure how to word his concern.

“Are you already doubting,” she asked, her brow furrowed as she seemed to debate whether his offer was truly sincere.

“No,” he hastened to reassure her “I just… I do not want to disappoint him.”

She nodded understandingly. “Neither do I,” she admitted. “I don’t mind keeping it quiet for a bit, though I don’t think we should let it go on too long,” she remarked. “He’s sure to find out eventually. He’s a bright boy.”

“Too true,” Viggo conceded, realizing that keeping such a secret from Ville would not be an easy endeavor. “Perhaps a month,” he suggested, wanting to give the two of them a chance without his brother’s well-intentioned interference.

“Long enough, but not too long,” Heddi observed. “I think we can make that work.”

They had settled things just in time as Ryker chose that moment to call them all to the table for dinner. Vilhehn was in high spirits and Viggo could not help but think how much had changed in the past year and how much his little brother had grown, both in size and as a person. Glancing at Heddi, he had a feeling that the next year would bring many changes as well and he found himself eager to discover what they would be.

Chapter Text

While Viggo had been glad to finally speak with Heddi, preparing the village for winter soon took over his time and thoughts. Before he knew it, a little over a week had passed since he had asked to court her and he had yet to spend any time with her. He hesitated briefly outside the Archives, needing to drop off the final tallies of the storehouses but wary of how mad Heddi would be at him for his neglect.

Taking a deep breath he finally opened the door, noting that Heddi did nothing more than glance up at him before returning to her work, casually stating, “If memory serves me correctly, we’re supposed to be courting.”

Viggo winced, knowing that her accusation was completely justified. “I am sorry, Heddi, there has just been-”

“-so much to do,” she finished for him. “I know.” She sighed and set down her charcoal, meeting his gaze. “You do realize we don’t have to do anything fancy, right? I am more than content with just joining your family for a meal or something.”

“But we are supposed to be using this time to get to know one another better,” Viggo responded. “Would that not be better done in a more private location?”

“Viggo, we’ve known each other our whole lives,” she pointed out. “I’m not saying we don’t need to see if we’ll be compatible on a more personal level, but I think we can move beyond the first tentative stages. Your family is a big part of your life and if our courtship does proceed accordingly, I’d be moving into your house anyway,” she reasoned. “Having your family around as we test the waters, so to speak, is no obstacle to me. Plus, Ville will go to bed early and I’m sure that Ryker and your grandfather would be willing to give us some space so we can speak privately.”

“I suppose you are right,” he admitted, wishing he had taken the time to think things through more, but… “I had just hoped to do something a little more…memorable.”

“I don’t need grand gestures,” Heddi remarked. “So, dinner with your family? What night should I come?”

“Perhaps tomorrow,” Viggo suggested, trying to salvage the situation by adding, “And maybe a flight afterward?”

“Will it end better than the last one,” she asked boldly.

Viggo huffed. “In my defense, I did not expect you to state your desires so clearly.”

“If I didn’t give you a nudge, who’s to say if you would ever have made a move,” she shot back playfully. “As it was it took you months.”

“I was not about to rush into such an important decision,” he defended himself.

“And yet look at how quickly Ville was accepted into your family,” she commented, one eyebrow delicately arched.

“Well…” Viggo attempted to produce an excuse, but he did not have one. Ville had so quickly wormed his way into their hearts, never to be removed.

Heddi rolled her eyes at his loss of words. “I’m teasing, Viggo,” she said drolly. “Here, let me take those papers so you can complete your work for the day. After all, I don’t want you having to put things off and then showing up late tomorrow.“

“I would never,” he declared. “Especially as I’ve already kept you waiting. Can you forgive me?”

“I suppose so,” she replied, a smile hovering on her lips, “but don’t get used to it.”

-o0o-

“Heddi!”

“Hello, Ville,” she greeted the seven-year-old as he slammed into her legs.

“Are you here for dinner,” he asked curiously.

“I sure am,” she confirmed, “if that’s okay with you, that is?”

“Of course,” he exclaimed, grabbing her hand and pulling her over to the table.

Heddi shot Viggo a smile which he was quick to return as they sat down for what turned in to a very lively meal. Even once dinner was finished, the conversation continued to flow, that is it did until Vilhehn started to nod off and Ryker scooped the boy up, taking him off to bed. With half their party already gone, Viggo’s grandfather got to his feet and wished them a pleasant evening before heading up the stairs himself.

She gave Viggo a knowing look, to which he acknowledged that she had been right before offering her his hand and leading her outside for their promised flight. As she glanced around though, she noticed a distinct lack of Stormcutter.

“Where is Sulka,” Viggo inquired, clearly thinking the same thing.

“That is a good question,” she remarked. “I had told her we would be going on an evening flight, so I don’t know why she would have left.” At that comment, Viggo’s Skrill took the opportunity to rub up against her and she absentmindedly stroked her flank as she continued to look for Sulka.

“I have a strange suspicion that the dragons are conspiring against us,” Viggo said, catching her attention. He was staring thoughtfully at his dragon who, now that she looked closer, seemed to have a smug expression on her face as she purred. “You are more than welcome to join me and Rynnätä,” he offered. “That is if you would like to, and it would make it easier for us to converse.”

“That is true,” she conceded as she got on behind him, wrapping her arms lightly around his waist.

She had to admit, riding a Skrill was much different than riding a Stormcutter. Not better or worse, just different. She was enjoying the experience, but Viggo was being awfully quiet. “This is nice,” she observed, breaking the silence.

“It is,” Viggo agreed, nodding stiffly.

“So, what happened to us talking?”

He cringed before saying, “I will confess, I have no idea what to discuss.”

“Embarrassing stories from our youth,” she suggested lightheartedly.

“Oh, well…”

And there she had gone, flustering him with her teasing again. Did he have to take everything so seriously? “This isn’t a game of Maces and Talons, Viggo. You don’t have to plan out every word and how much weight it will carry,” she reasoned. “This isn’t supposed to be hard.”

“I know,” he claimed. “But I have never been in this type of situation before and find myself unsure of what to do or say.”

“Then start with something simple,” she proposed. “How was your day,” she inquired, hoping to get the ball rolling.

“It was good,” he responded hesitantly. “The storehouses are full, as you have seen on the reports, and-”

That seemed to do the trick and Viggo began to relax as he spoke of how the preparations for winter were going. She asked him a few questions here and there, even pointing out one or two things that might help speed up the process, but for the most part, she just let him talk, enjoying listening to his voice as they flew through the starlit sky.

Chapter Text

“Vilhehn!”

The lad startled as he glanced up at his oldest brother. “Sorry, Ryker,” he mumbled, knowing he should have been paying better attention.

“You need to focus,” Ryker said sternly, lightly tapping Ville’s sword with his own.

“I’m trying,” he replied, though his brother looked rather skeptical.

“Are you really?”

“Well…” Ville faltered before excitedly saying, “Now that I’m eight, Elias said I can start learning how to smith and he’s expecting me this afternoon.”

“I know,” Ryker responded drolly. “You’ve spoken of little else for the past week, but that is no excuse,” he maintained. Tapping Ville’s sword again, he continued, “No matter what is going on in your life, when you have a weapon in your hand, you have to be able to block everything else out and focus solely on your opponent.”

“I know,” he conceded, hanging his head just a bit. “I’ll try to do better this time, promise,” he said, gazing up at his brother earnestly.

“No promises needed,” Ryker declared, reaching over and ruffling Vilhehn’s hair. “Just do as you’re supposed to and all will be well.”

He got into his opening stance and Ville was quick to copy him, running through his exercises with more focus than he had previously shown. It wasn’t that he didn’t like training with his brother, but today was going to be his first day getting to actually work in the forge. How could he not be excited?! He did his best to push such thoughts aside though, and he must have done a good enough job as Ryker was quick to praise him once they finished.

“Not bad, Ville,” his oldest brother remarked. “You’re showing definite improvement, which is a good thing as I will not tolerate a brother who cannot defend himself.” A slight smile hovered around Ryker’s mouth as he said, “We’ll call it a day for now, as I can see your mind won’t stay focused for much longer, but make sure you get something to eat before heading to the forge.“

“I will,” he yelled over his shoulder as he took off for the Great Hall, it being closer than going home.

Toothless had been playing with some of the other dragons while Ville was training, but seeing as he was now done, the Night Fury quickly joined him and they had a brief meal with Vilhehn’s friends before heading to the forge.

“Are you sure you want to come, bud,” Ville inquired. “I don’t imagine it will be very fun for you.”

“I want to see what it is you’re so excited about,” Toothless stated.

Vilhehn shrugged. “Okay, but don’t feel like you have to stick around if it gets too boring.” He ran the rest of the way with his best friend playfully nipping at his heels and soon burst into forge. “Elias! I’m here!”

“So I can see,” the blacksmith chuckled, handing him an apron and helping him to get it on. “Are you ready to get started?”

Ville nodded eagerly and Elias started by explaining the safety precautions that needed to be followed when in the forge. Vilhehn already knew them by heart, but he patiently listened and set about the small tasks that the blacksmith gave him, being careful to follow any instructions he was given to the letter. He wasn’t allowed to work with the hot metal just yet, but it was still exciting to finally get to put some of his knowledge to work.

By the time Elias told him he was done for the day, he was thoroughly exhausted. Ville had to admit, he had not thought about how much physical effort went into smithing, and he wasn’t even doing any of the real work yet! Still, as he let Toothless cart his tired body home, he was happy with the progress he had made. Elias had even told him that if he kept on at this rate, he would start showing him how to make daggers next week.

As he entered his home, he saw that Viggo was already back and sitting with Heddi near the fire playing a game of Maces and Talons. “Are you winning,” he asked his brother as he walked over.

“I would rather not say,” Viggo responded, wrapping an arm around Ville as he leaned heavily into his brother’s side.

“I have found that someone is a sore loser,” Heddi observed, shooting Viggo an arch look. “He may yet manage to snatch victory out from beneath me, though.”

Viggo scoffed. “I still maintain that you do not play fairly.”

“My methods are completely above board,” she countered, flipping her braid over her shoulder and shrugging. “It’s not my fault you’re so easily distracted by your opponent.”

Viggo grumbled halfheartedly under his breath before turning to Ville. “Today was your first day in the forge, was it not?”

“Mm-hmm,” Ville nodded as his gaze swept over the game board.

“How was it?”

He yawned and then said, “It was good.”

“But tiring, I would imagine,” Viggo speculated, a hint of a question in his voice causing Ville to nod sleepily. He pulled his brother into his lap and Ville rested his head on Viggo’s shoulder as he said, “I think an early night is in store for you.”

And for once, Ville didn’t think he’d mind that.

-o0o-

“Ville, what did you do to this metal?”

“I’m sorry, Elias,” he replied, rushing over and looking once more in the smelting pot. “I just wanted to see if it would work.”

“If what would work?”

“Well, dragon scales are really strong and they strengthen the leather in addition to making it fireproof, so I was wondering if it would make the Gronckle Iron stronger, too,” he explained. “I only tried it on a little bit, in case it doesn’t work.”

“It is an interesting idea, I’ll admit that,” the blacksmith said thoughtfully. “Go ahead, lad. I’m curious to see how it will turn out.”

Vilhehn beamed and seeing as how the iron had cooled enough to work with, he pulled the metal out and began shaping it into a dagger. He was getting quite good at making them if he did say so himself, and, thankfully, the dragon scales didn’t make the metal any harder to work with, so that was good. He finished shaping it and dunked it into the bucket of water next to the anvil, the satisfying hiss of the metal cooling being music to his ears.

He set about sharpening the blade before holding it up for his best friend to see. “What do you think, Toothless?”

“I like that I can be a part of something that will help protect you,” he crooned happily. “Does it work?”

“I don’t know yet,” he admitted, calling out to the blacksmith, “Elias, it’s done.”

He held out the blade and the blacksmith examined it carefully. “Fine job, Ville,” he praised the boy. “Your craftsmanship is coming along by leaps and bounds. Now, let us see how it holds up strength wise.”

Elias passed Vilhehn’s dagger back to him and grabbed a standard Gronckle Iron one, holding it up and telling the lad to take a swing at it. Both were shocked when the Gronckle Iron blade was cut clean in half.

Noting the expression on the blacksmith’s face, Ville hesitantly asked, “Is that good?”

“That is amazing,” Elias proclaimed, breaking into a big grin that Ville quickly mimicked. “Looks like your theory was right, lad. Why don’t you go show your brothers what you created?”

“Okay,” he agreed, hastily removing his apron and tucking his new dagger into his sheath before jumping onto Toothless and taking to the sky.

Normally, he would have just run through the village, but it was so busy right now, as the warmer weather had them occupied with preparations to resume trade. From the sky, though, it did not take long to spot Rynnätä and, sure enough, his brother was nearby.

Ville encouraged Toothless to land and ran over, shouting his brother's name.

Viggo turned and smiled. “You are off early today.”

“Elias let me leave so I could show you my new dagger,” he revealed, pulling out said blade and passing it to his brother.

“What a unique color,” Viggo observed, examining it from every angle.

“I added Toothless’ scales,” Ville disclosed. “It made it even stronger.”

“Stronger than Gronckle Iron,” Ryker asked upon joining them.

“Uh-huh. It cut a normal dagger clean through,” he declared excitedly. “Do you think it would be good for trade? I bet it would make us a lot of money.”

“I am sure it would,” Viggo said slowly, “but a weapon that strong in the hands of the wrong people… I will have to think about it.”

“Oh.” Vilhehn’s shoulders slumped. And here he thought he had made a great discovery that could be of use to his tribe.

“Don’t be so downcast, Ville,” Viggo remarked, throwing his arm around the boy’s shoulders and giving him a slight squeeze. “Even if we do not use it for trade, it will be a beneficial advantage for our tribe, both for our own weapons, as well as for armor and other necessities. You have done well.”

“You sure have,” Ryker added. “I expect a new set of swords out of this metal once you master your technique.”

Ville grinned and nodded eagerly, more than pleased by his brothers’ praise.

Chapter Text

“Dagur!”

Viggo watched with a smile as his youngest brother raced forward to meet his friend. Turning to greet the other Chief, he said, “Hello, Oswald. It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“You as well,” he responded, momentarily distracted by the two boys breezing past them. “Dagur, take your sister with you,” he called out before returning to their conversation. “Thank you for inviting us to remain for your nuptials as well.”

“Well, Ville was desperate to see Dagur and this was one way to extend your visit,” Viggo reasoned. “In addition, none of this would be happening if it was not for you bringing Vilhehn into our lives, so we have much to thank you for.”

As they left the docks, Oswald glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “The lad has you wrapped around his little finger, does he?”

“Let us just say he is very persuasive,” Viggo hedged, not fooling anyone. “Shall we take care of the treaty now so that all the formalities are out of the way and you can enjoy your visit?”

“That would be a wise idea,” Oswald agreed and they went to take care of business.

-o0o-

“Woah, there are so many dragons here,” Dagur exclaimed, his gaze darting about the village as Ville showed him and Heather around, Toothless and Sleuther cavorting behind them.

“Yup, isn’t it great,” he beamed. “Word has gotten around that we’re a safe place and now the dragons have started coming to us if they need help.”

“What would they need help with,” Heather inquired.

“Mostly if they’re sick or injured, though that doesn’t happen too often,” Ville answered. “And some just like to come and visit,” he shared. “A lot have been showing up lately because they’ve heard that Viggo is getting married and they’re curious about what a human mating ceremony looks like.”

“Are you excited about the wedding,” Heather perked up, clearly feeling that way herself.

He couldn’t blame her though as he liked Heddi very much and was looking forward to her being part of their family. “Very much so,” he nodded. “I can’t wait to have a sister.”

“They aren’t all they’re cracked up to be,” Dagur said as he made a face, causing Heather to stick her tongue out at him.

Ville laughed and shook his head. “Heddi is nice. You’ll like her,” he remarked. “And she makes Viggo happy.” That was what really mattered. Well, that and she liked their family and the dragons. That was very important, too. Turning to his friend, he asked, “Is your dad still set on leaving the day after the union ceremony?”

“Yeah,” Dagur grimaced.

He sighed, having been hoping for a different response. “Viggo and Heddi are leaving for a week and I was hoping you could stay,” he disclosed, hastily adding, “Not that I won’t still have Ryker and Grandfather and my friends, but it would be even better if you were here, too.” He shrugged, figuring there was no point dwelling on it when he could be enjoying this time with Dagur. “Come on, let me show you the forge.”

He led his friends over and, with Elias’ permission, gave them the full tour.

Dagur looked at all the weapons in awe. “So, this is where you’ve been working?”

“Uh-huh, and I even managed to create a new metal.” He pulled out the gift he had made for his friend and passed it to him. “I used it to make this dagger for you. Just be careful cause it’s stronger than the metal your weapons are made of and will easily break them in half.”

Dagur admired the workmanship, running his hand along the blade as he declared, “Now this is something I could get used to.”

Heather wasn’t finding the forge nearly as interesting as her brother, though, and her gaze drifted outside. “Are those your friends,” she asked, gesturing to the group that was passing by.

“Yeah,” Ville replied. “Do you want to meet them?”

Heather nodded eagerly and Ville called out, getting his friends’ attention.

“Hey guys, these are my friends from Berserker Island. Dagur, Heather, this is Akseli, Viivi, Marjetta, Edvin, and Taimi,” he said, gesturing to each of them in turn. “There are a few more kids around our age, but I don’t know where they are right now. I’ll introduce you to them later.”

Dagur nodded and turned to the others, asking, “So, what do you guys do around here for fun?”

Before anyone could answer, Toothless took matters into his own paws and initiated a game of tag, which everyone was quick to join in on. Playing in the village, though, was not without its risks, especially with all the current activity, so they slowly moved their game toward the outskirts of town, where they would not be in the way. As they led the dragons on a merry chase, Ville caught sight of Heddi and ran over to her.

“Heddi! Will you come and meet my friends,” he begged.

“I would love to,” she responded, readjusting the bundle she was carrying as Ville led her over and made the introductions. “It is a pleasure to meet you both,” she smiled at the Berserkers. “Ville has spoken of you often and I would enjoy getting to know you better, but there is still much to do in preparation for the ceremony and I’m afraid I can’t stay. I am sure I will see you later at the Great Hall, though, and maybe we can talk then,” she offered, waving to the children as she went back on her way.

The game resumed, though not for much longer as the others had to start heading home. With everyone dispersing, Ville led his Berserker friends to the Great Hall, knowing that’s where they would all be eating dinner tonight.

Despite the fact that the sun was setting, there was still much activity in the village and Dagur commented on it. “Everyone is so busy.”

“Well, there’s a lot to do,” Ville shrugged. “After all, Viggo is Chief, so his wedding is very important.”

“He doesn’t seem to have much time for you,” Dagur observed offhandedly.

Ville did not feel that was fair and quickly responded, “There’s just a lot going on right now. Preparations for the wedding and the treaty signing with your dad. Plus, we’re in the peak of trading season,” he explained. “He’s busy during the day, but if I ever need something, he’ll always pause what he’s doing. And we always spend the evenings together.”

Dagur hummed noncommittally, but Ville could tell that there was something else his friend wanted to say.

“What?”

“You know what happens when someone gets married,” Dagur said matter-of-factly. “They spend all their time together.”

Vilhehn’s brow furrowed, not understanding the point his friend was trying to make. “Heddi spends a lot of time at our home already.”

“Yeah, but once she and your brother are married, they’ll probably want to spend their evenings together,” he clarified. “Just the two of them.”

“But Viggo would never ignore me,” Ville protested. “He promised.”

Dagur shrugged. “I just know what my friends have told me from when their older siblings got married.” As they stepped into the Great Hall and Viggo waved them over, he added, “Maybe you’re right, though, and Viggo’s different. It’s clear how much he cares about you.”

He bumped his friend’s shoulder and led the way to the table, but though Ville followed, his thoughts were stuck on Dagur’s words. It didn’t help that they echoed the deep-seated fear he had when all of this began. Would things change when Viggo married?

He tried not to think about it, but the seed was firmly planted in his mind. While he was able to push it aside and enjoy his friend’s visit, the union ceremony itself brought all his fears crashing back down. He tried his best to focus on his grandfather’s joy as he performed the ceremony and on how happy Viggo and Heddi were, but he couldn’t help but think about how things were going to change.

Chapter Text

“Elias is expecting me,” Ville announced before scuttling out the door, leaving Viggo staring after him. He had asked his brother a simple question, only to have the boy practically run out of the house.

He and Heddi had gotten back from their wedding trip the day before yesterday, and while he had been suspicious, Vilhehn’s actions today further cemented the thought into his mind. Something was going on, but he was not sure what.

Hoping his older brother could shed a little light on the situation, he turned to Ryker and asked, “Is it just me or does Ville seem…distant?”

“Aye,” his brother agreed. “He’s been that way since the wedding. I thought he was just moping because his friends had left and you were gone, but…”

“But I am back and nothing has changed,” Viggo finished, thinking of how Ville had spent most of his time at home in his room yesterday. He had not thought anything of it at first as his brother had taken to trying to invent devices to help the village, having been bolstered by his success with the Dragon Iron, and would spend hours bent over his journal, sometimes in the main living area and sometimes in his room. But when that was combined with how quiet and evasive he had been, something was wrong.

“Exactly,” Ryker said, pulling his attention back to their conversation. “I tried to speak with him shortly after you left, but he just said he was tired from the festivities.”

“Ville? Tired,” Heddi inquired skeptically.

“I know,” Ryker grumbled, “but there was a lot going on, what with Dagur visiting and your wedding. I thought I’d give it a few days but nothing has changed.”

As Viggo thought through what could be happening, Heddi turned to him. “Do you have any idea what could be wrong?”

“Maybe, but…” he trailed off and shook his head, convinced that was not the reason. “No.” Glancing at his brother, he asked, “Were Vilhehn and Dagur on good terms when they parted?”

“Things were fine between the two of them,” Ryker replied, his frustration beginning to show. “It must be something else, but I don’t know what. And the kid won’t stay still long enough for me to ask him.”

Viggo’s brow furrowed as he thought back to his initial idea. “I wonder…”

“What,” Heddi pressed.

“When Ville first realized that I would eventually be getting married, he was worried about being pushed aside and forgotten,” he revealed. “I thought I had convinced him that would never happen, but…”

“But with his past, that might not be so easy to move on from,” Heddi supplied.

He nodded and stood from the table. He knew he was supposed to meet Grandfather at the Great Hall to go over a few things, but this was more important. “I need to speak with Ville,” he declared, asking Ryker if he could please let their grandfather know he would be delayed.

With that taken care of, Viggo set out for the forge, Rynnätä at his side. “Do you think I am right, Rynn? Is this what is bothering Ville?”

She looked up at him soulfully and crooned what he would assume was her agreement. 

At least the fact that Vilhehn never hid his feelings from the dragons made things a smidge easier, he thought as he walked across the village. Finally reaching his destination, he greeted the blacksmith and said, “Elias, I need to speak with my brother. Would you mind if he took the rest of the day off?”

“Of course not,” the brawny man responded. “I wasn’t even expecting him in today,” he admitted, before lowering his voice and continuing. “He’s been working a might too hard lately and could use some time off in my opinion. You go talk some sense into him,” he encouraged, pointing Viggo in the right direction.

“I will try my best,” he replied, giving Toothless a scratch as the dragon headbutted him, eager for some attention as his best friend was currently occupied. Kneeling to look the Night Fury in the eye, Viggo told Toothless his plan and mentioned that he might require his assistance, the dragon eagerly agreeing to help, though he could have just bobbed his head instead of licking him.

Viggo wiped off the saliva with a rag Elias passed him as he made his way over to his brother. “Vilhehn?”

The lad hardly glanced up before returning to his work. “Do you need something?”

“Yes, I was hoping we could speak,” Viggo remarked.

“I’m kind of busy right now.”

Viggo raised one eyebrow. “That is interesting seeing as Elias said he was not even expecting you today.”

“He must have forgotten,” Ville commented, refusing to make eye contact, even as his hands had stilled.

“I highly doubt that,” Viggo countered, a hint of steel in his voice. “I am sure whatever project you are working on can wait,” he observed calmly. “Come for a flight with me?”

“I can’t right now,” Ville stated, resuming his hammering, but his response and stiff posture spoke volumes.

“Ville, you never turn down a flight. What is wrong?”

“Nothing! I just wanted to finish this, but fine, we can go,” he declared, tearing off his apron and practically racing out of the forge to jump on Toothless.

Viggo took a deep breath as he mounted Rynnätä, realizing that this may be a little more complicated than he had thought, but at least he had managed to get his brother away. After all, getting him somewhere private where he could not run away was half the battle.

Rynnätä had no problem catching up with Toothless and Viggo let the silence hang between them for a few minutes, wanting to give his brother a chance to bring up what was bothering him on his own. Unfortunately, Ville remained stubbornly quiet and Viggo had to take matters into his own hands.

“Vilhehn, we need to speak.”

“Do you wanna see this new trick Toothless and I have been working on,” he said hastily, tugging on the saddle frantically in an attempt to get Toothless to fall in with his plans, but the Night Fury refused to budge, much to his frustration. “Stubborn dragon,” he muttered.

“He is not stubborn,” Viggo reasoned. “He knows something is wrong, as do I, and he wants to help you. Please Ville, tell me what is going on.”

But his brother refused to say a word, staring stoically in front of him.

Viggo encouraged Rynnätä to fly closer and softly said, “Has the wedding left you worried about the changes it will bring to our family?” He could read his brother well, and though his silence continued, he could see the increased tension that question brought. “I know you like Heddi,” he continued, “so I doubt that she is the problem, not directly at least, but are you worried about me having less time for you?”

At that, the dam broke, and Vilhehn collapsed onto Toothless‘ back, sobs wracking his body.

Viggo asked Toothless to land on a nearby sea stack and after unhooking Ville from his saddle, he pulled him into his arms, holding him close as he let it all out.

Once his little brother started to calm down a bit, Viggo asked, “Do you remember what I said when we discussed this before?”

Vilhehn nodded shakily and answered. “That you enjoy spending time with me, but what if you like being with Heddi better?”

“Have you felt that way while Heddi and I were courting,” he inquired.

“Well, no…,” Ville admitted, “but you’re married now.”

“The only thing that will change is that Heddi is now a permanent part of our lives and will be living with us,” Viggo revealed. “Yes, I love Heddi, but that does not mean I love you any less. I will always have time for you Ville,” he assured him.

Vilhehn sniffed and leaned a little heavier against him. “But Heddi is your family, too, so who comes first?”

Viggo could not hold back his sigh. “You always have to ask the complicated questions, Ville.” Thinking about how best to explain this to his brother, he decided to reference another conversation. “Remember when we discussed needs and wants?”

He nodded slightly and murmured, “Needs come before wants.”

“Exactly,” Viggo confirmed. “So, whichever of you had the most pressing need at the time would come first and the other would need to be patient, but that does not mean I will be there for one of you and not the other,” he emphasized. “It just means that you may need to wait. But I assure you, Ville, I will never forget you or push you to the side. You are too important to me.”

Ville buried his face in the crook of his brother’s neck as his tears began anew, but this time from relief. Viggo let him cry, offering what comfort he could, knowing how much this must have been weighing on him and he was in no rush. His brother needed him and there was no place he would rather be.

Chapter Text

Heddi watched as Ville went upstairs to his room after dinner, seeming in a better mood than he had been that morning. When he arrived back home with Viggo, her husband had given her a slight nod, assuring her that everything was okay, but she felt the need to have a few words with Ville herself, just to make sure he knew that she would never come between the two of them, especially as in some ways, Viggo was more father than brother, seeing as he was the main one raising Vilhehn.

The boy had clearly been worn out, but she hoped to speak with him before he went to bed, so she quietly slipped up the stairs and knocked on his door. “Ville, may I come in?”

“I guess,” was the muffled reply.

She stepped inside to find him already in his nightshirt, sitting on the edge of his bed. “How are you doing?”

He shrugged as she sat down next to him. “Okay, I guess.”

“I know this is a lot to adjust to,” she began, “but I just wanted to assure you that my being here doesn’t change things. I’m not trying to take your brother from you.”

“I know,” he mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.

“Do you?”

“I do,” he insisted, looking up at her with tears in his eyes. “I just…I-I don’t want to be…”

She wrapped an arm around his shoulders and pulled him close. “Shh, it’s okay,” she comforted him. “Would you like me to tell you a secret?”

He sniffed and nodded.

“With me joining your family, it means you’ll get more attention, not less,” she revealed.

Vilhehn tilted his head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’ve got one more person, to look out for you and love you. Me,” she declared, giving him a squeeze. “Things may be a little bit different, but not by much. And I think I speak for all of us when I say we would rather you tell us when something is wrong rather than just bottling it up.”

“She is right you know.”

They both looked up to find Viggo standing in the doorway, though he soon joined them on the bed, sitting on Ville’s other side.

“I want you to be happy,” he told his brother earnestly. “We all do. And when feelings and doubts from your past start to haunt you, there is nothing more that we want to do than help you. That is what family is for,” he stated. “What a true family is for.”

Ville threw himself at his brother, whispering, “Thank you, Viggo.”

“Anytime, Ville,” he responded, returning the hug. “Anytime.”

As Heddi watched the two of them, she couldn't help but think this was a perfect glimpse of what Viggo would be like with their own children, if they were so fortunate as to have any. In the meantime, though, she was content with their family just the way it was, and it seemed like Ville had made his peace with it, too.

-o0o-

Ville was having a great time. His family had decided to take a day and visit a nearby island to get away from the village and spend some time together, just the five of them. Well, really it was the twelve of them, because the dragons were part of their family, too, but they were currently involved in some kind of game of their own off on the other end of the beach.

They had just eaten after spending the morning swimming, and now most everyone was lounging around with the exception of Ville. There was a short cliff nearby that he was attempting to climb, partially because he was not one to sit still, but also because there was a very pretty flowering plant at the top. He wanted a better look at it and was hoping to maybe bring back a blossom for Heddi if he could determine a way to carry it without crushing it.

He was almost to the top when Viggo called out a warning for him to be careful and he responded distractedly as he was rather focused on his next handhold. The only problem was the rock he was aiming for was not as secure as he had hoped and it left him scrabbling for a new grip. He heard his grandfather yell his name just as his other hand slipped and he found himself tumbling down the small cliff.

He tried to grab hold of something, anything, as he fell, but only succeeded in scratching himself up further, before he landed on the ground with a thud, his left arm twisting awkwardly beneath him. He lay there, dazed, as he slowly began to register his family and their dragons rushing to his side.

“Ville, are you okay,” Viggo exclaimed worriedly, brushing Ville’s hair out of his face.

“I-I-” He was still in shock from what happened and didn’t seem to be able to get his words out.

“Let me,” Heddi said, scooting forward and lightly running her hands over his body, as Ryker did his best to hold Toothless back.

Ville didn’t mind, though there were some spots that he could definitely tell would be bruising soon, if they weren’t already, but then Heddi touched his left wrist. The pain was so intense that he was unable to bite back the scream that left his mouth.

“I’m so sorry, Ville,” she hastily apologized. “I need to feel it just a little bit more, but I’ll be as careful as I can.”

He bit his lip and nodded, trying not to whimper as she gently felt his wrist and slowly moved it in a circle.

”I don’t think it’s broken,” she announced, “probably just a sprain, but it would be best to have one of the healers take a look.” She called for Sulka to come closer so she could retrieve an extra flask and some bandages from her saddlebag.

As she cleaned Ville’s scrapes and wrapped up his wrist to give it a bit of support, Grandfather said, “We should get packed up and head home.”

“I can fly ahead with Ville so the healer can check on him,” Ryker offered, but Viggo was quick to object.

“No, Kuori’s saddle sits rather high off the ground,” he reasoned. “Rynnätä will be easier to mount and Ville will not be jostled as much.”

“It-it’s really not that bad,” Vilhehn claimed, wincing as Heddi tied off the bandages. Yes, it hurt, but he had been through worse. “I-I can ride Toothless.”

“Ville, you are in no condition to ride on your own,” Viggo objected, “and I am not taking no for an answer.” He scooped Ville up before he could say anything else and gently set him on Rynnätä’s saddle, slipping on behind him. “Now, let us get you back home.”

As Rynnätä took to the air, Toothless was quick to follow, flying as close as he could and looking at Vilhehn in concern. “Are you really okay?”

“I will be,” he replied.

“Toothless is worried, as well,” Viggo inquired.

“Yeah,” Ville nodded. He remained silent for but a moment before he softly said, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For ruining our day,” he mumbled.

“You did not ruin it, Ville.”

“But we have to head back early,” he protested.

“And we can spend the rest of the day at home,” his brother responded calmly. “There is nothing wrong with that. Perhaps we can have a Maces and Talons marathon. How does that sound?”

That brought a smile to his face. Even though he was always out early, he enjoyed watching the others play. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” Viggo remarked, holding him a bit tighter as he added, “What is most important to us is that you are alright. Or at least that you will be. Does your wrist hurt?”

Ville shrugged. “I’ve had worse.”

“Oh, Ville,” Viggo sighed, that one breath conveying a wealth of emotion.

Determined to cheer up his brother, Ville happily said, “But I’m a Grimborn now. So I don’t have to worry about that anymore.”

“You are so very right,” Viggo agreed, ruffling his hair in the way that Ville loved. In the way that showed he was loved.

Unfortunately, Heddi had been right and his wrist was sprained, but the worst part was that he wasn’t allowed to use it for at least four weeks. Since it was his dominant hand that he hurt, that meant no working in the forge, no flying on Toothless, no weapons training, and no drawing or working on inventions. He was sure he was going to go mad, but his family did their best to keep him busy and occupied, showing their love for him in a multitude of ways.

Some days, Viggo would invite him to join him on his Chiefing duties, while other days, Heddi took him with her to the Archives and they would pour over the dragon encyclopedia together. On the days he stayed home, Grandfather would play games with him or tell him stories from his youth. And even though he couldn’t fly on his own, Ryker often took him with him on Kuori when he went on patrol around the island, explaining their defenses to him in great detail.

Even the dragons did their part, playing some of their less active games with him and leaving their hatchlings for him to keep an eye on, though one of the mother dragons always stayed nearby to lend him a claw if the babies got a little too rambunctious.

And he still had lessons and time spent with his friends, so though he thought the time would crawl by, it was over before he knew it and he was once again able to resume all his favorite activities.

Chapter Text

Viggo was attempting to take advantage of the storm raging outside by working on some paperwork this morning, but it was rather hard to do when Vilhehn kept pestering him.

“Why can’t Sulka come in the house,” he asked for the umpteenth time.

Viggo bit back a sigh, saying, “Ville, I have told you, she is too big.”

“She’s really not,” his younger brother protested. “And if Toothless and Rynnätä stayed upstairs then there would be more than enough room.”

“Sulka will not fit through the door,” Viggo reminded him.

“We could make a bigger one,” he suggested.

Viggo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Ville-“

“It’s not fair that she has to stay outside during the storms,” he complained, not willing to let the subject drop this time.

“I do believe she finds shelter, Ville,” Heddi said, walking over and draping her arms around Viggo’s neck. “She’s not exactly out in the elements.”

“She does,” Ville reluctantly admitted as Viggo pecked his wife’s cheek, “but the caves get so crowded. Can’t we figure out a way for her to come here?”

“I will tell you what, boy,” Grandfather spoke up, joining the conversation from where he sat by the fire, though with the way Rikki was curled around his chair, he probably did not even need the additional heat source. “This problem seems bigger than just Sulka as the caves are so full. You come up with a solution for all the dragons and we will see if it is feasible.”

“Really,” Ville asked excitedly, racing over and climbing across the Nightmare to reach their Grandfather.

“Yes, really,” he confirmed, ruffling the lad’s hair.

“Thank you, Grandfather,” he exclaimed before warbling at Toothless. The two of them went racing up the stairs, probably not to be seen for hours.

“Thank you for distracting him,” Viggo remarked, “but are you sure this will be the best use of our resources?”

“We will have to wait and see what Vilhehn comes up with and go from there,” Grandfather acknowledged, stroking Rikki’s head, “but the boy is already obsessed with dragons. May as well channel that energy and that desire to help into something useful.”

“So, how long do you think it’ll take,” Ryker asked with a smirk.

“I give him until tomorrow,” Grandfather replied.

It did not even take that long as just before dinner, Ville was running down the stairs, waving his journal as he yelled, “I’ve got it! I’ve got it!”

“Got what, Ville,” Ryker queried.

“I know what to do to fix the overcrowding in the caves,” he proclaimed, heading straight for Grandfather.

“And what did you come up with,” Viggo inquired, joining the two of them as Ville started explaining.

“We could build a dragon stable,” he said, showing them his sketches. “If we ask the Whispering Deaths for help, we can expand one of the larger cave systems. There can be a smaller back exit or two for emergencies and a large front entrance with storm doors for easy access when the weather is not so bad.”

Grandfather nodded, looking over the detailed drawings. “It would require minimal work on our part-”

“-and the Whispering Deaths would know where not to tunnel to keep our island stable,” Viggo finished with a smile. “Brilliant idea, Ville.”

“So we can do it,” he asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet.

“We can,” Viggo declared, “but after the worst of the weather is past us.”

“But can’t we-”

“Ville, I am not asking you to wait until the end of winter,” he clarified. “Just until this storm has passed. You, and the dragons, can wait for a day or two.”

“But the Whispering Deaths don’t care if it’s raining or not,” Vilhehn countered.

“They may not, but I do,” Viggo responded. “Not only will we have to examine each cave to see which will best suit our needs-”

“I already know which one,” Ville insisted.

Considering how much time he had been spending talking with the dragons, he probably did. “I still would like to look at it first,” Viggo maintained. “In addition, where will the dragons go when the tunneling commences?”

Ville opened his mouth only to shut it promptly as he realized the point his brother was trying to make.

“Exactly,” Viggo said. “We can not oust them from their shelter in the middle of a storm.” Seeing that Ville was about to suggest something outlandish, like letting the dragons stay in the Great Hall while they expanded the caves, he hastened to add, “I promise, we will do our best to rectify the situation between this storm and the next one. A few days will not make much of a difference.”

His little brother begrudgingly agreed, and just in time, too, as Heddi announced that dinner was ready.

-o0o-

The stable project progressed quickly once the storm abated and they were able to get it mostly finished before the next one hit. The doors still had to be completed, but the makeshift cover kept out the worst of the weather and there was plenty of room, so the dragons were content.

While they were thankful for the more spacious shelter, that did not mean that the majority of the dragons liked being cooped up any more than Ville did. Thus, when the weather was fair, the dragons were often seen cavorting above, around, and sometimes even in the village, as was happening right now.

Viggo came across the group of children and dragons trying to cover each other in snow and could not help but smile, especially when he saw his youngest brother running toward him.

“Viggo! Come play with us,” he entreated, tugging on his brother’s arm.

“I would love to Ville,” he replied, “but I need to finish my rounds to see what other repairs are required. Perhaps if-” He halted mid-sentence as an enormous amount of snow slammed into him, the culprit warbling a draconic laugh. “Rynnätä!”

Vilhehn was laughing so much that he had a hard time standing up straight, but he managed to stop for long enough to translate for the Skrill. “She says that she flew over the village and you’ve already taken care of everything that needs to be done today. Any other repairs are minor and don’t need your supervision.”

It was tempting, but… “I cannot be derelict in my duties,” he contended, only for a snowball to hit his back, right between his shoulder blades.

“And you’re not,” Ryker claimed, tossing another snowball up in the air before catching it. “You deserve a break at the very least.”

“Just for a little bit,” Ville begged, but his plea was interrupted by Toothless swiping his feet out from under him.

Viggo helped his brother to his feet before finally caving. “Very well,” he said in a put-upon manner. “I highly doubt you would give me any peace until I joined you anyway, so I may as well save us all the bother.”

The ensuing snow battle was quite fierce, though the dragons unfairly had the upper claw, being able to scoop up large amounts of snow with their wings and tails. Viggo had thoroughly enjoyed himself, though, even if they were a wet and weary group when they finally made their way home in the waning light. And as they warmed up around the fire, Ville recounting the battle to Grandfather play by play, he was glad his brothers had convinced him to join them as he would treasure this memory.

Chapter Text

Over the next year, a few changes made themselves known, most notably the dragons’ absolute devotion to Ville. He had always been popular among the beasts, being the only one who could really understand them, but things had progressed to the point where there was always a small horde of dragons following him wherever he went. Viggo believed that it was, in part, due to the building of the stables. The dragons clearly knew that Ville was the one behind the whole idea and now, whenever any of them needed help, they would go straight to his little brother.

He was so proud of Vilhehn and all that he had accomplished at such a young age, but there were still some endeavors that he was a little too young for. Of course, his opinion and his brother’s were not quite the same and that did invariably cause some problems.

“But I can help,” Ville protested. Crossing his arms, he declared, “I’m ten years old now. I not a little kid anymore.”

Viggo pinched the bridge of his nose. “I realize that, Ville, but that does not mean it is safe for you to go on a dragon collection mission.”

He had just received a request from the Chief of the Shivering Shores to remove a pack of Speed Stingers that seemed to have made themselves at home. This was the first such request they had received since they had changed their way of life and Ville was quick to remind him of his promise.

“You said that we would discuss it the first time we had a request like this,” his little brother stated. “I can take care of myself and as the Chief’s brother it won’t look that strange if I come along.”

“He has a point,” Ryker chimed in.

Viggo glared at his older brother. “You are not helping, Ryker.”

“Look, they’re Speed Stingers, right?”

“Yes,” Viggo snapped, having a feeling he was not going to like where his brother was going with this. “You already know that.”

“We’ll be going in to collect them during the day while they’re all asleep. We can use a bit of dragon nip gas just to be on the safe side, but the collection will be no problem,” Ryker pointed out. “When they wake up though, it’ll be a different story.”

Viggo narrowed his eyes. “What are you saying?”

“Let Ville come,” Ryker proposed, much to their youngest brother’s delight. “He can stay on the ship and help with the Stingers when they wake. That’s when we’ll really need him anyway and no one from the Shivering Shores need ever know he’s there.”

“I still do not like it,” he maintained.

“Please, Viggo,” Ville begged, practically hanging off his arm.

Heddi was already at the Archives for the day, so he turned to the last remaining family member in the room. “Grandfather, you have been quiet through all this. What is your opinion?”

“Ryker makes a solid argument,” their grandfather responded to Viggo’s dismay. “If the tribe never even sees him, then is there really a reason to keep him from going?”

Viggo could admit when he was backed into a corner, but that did not mean he was pleased with the outcome, or with the rest of his family ganging up on him in the first place, even if their reasoning did make sense. “You can go,” he reluctantly told his little brother, “BUT there will be rules that I expect you to follow.”

Ville beamed and nodded eagerly, but though he was initially happy to comply, that did not mean he felt the same way after they embarked on their journey.

“Ville, we are getting too close to the Shivering Shores,” Viggo called out to his youngest brother who was flying around the ship with Toothless. “You had best come down.”

The boy sighed dramatically. “But the winds are so perfect,” he whined. “Can’t we stay up for just a few more minutes?”

“You know the conditions of being allowed to come,” he stated firmly. “You and Toothless must stay in your quarters the entire time we are there, and remain below deck if we are within an hour of the Shivering Shores.”

Ville scrunched up his face as Toothless came in to land on the deck. “I know, I know,” he grumbled, unwillingly heading toward the hatch as he warbled what was sure to be a complaint to Toothless.

Viggo just shook his head. He knew his brother would not be pleased with the restrictions, but he had agreed to them and therefore must abide by them.

It was not long before they docked and Viggo stepped off their ship to greet the other Chief. “Hello, Magnus. It is good to see you.”

“You as well,” he replied. “It has been quite some time. Ever since you became Chief yourself and made so many changes.”

Viggo was no stranger to such talk and knew Magnus was testing the waters, so to speak. “I am grateful to say our tribe is thriving after the adjustments we have made and are stronger than ever,” he proclaimed, putting any thoughts of an easy conquest out of the other Chief’s mind. “But come, you wrote of having dragon troubles,” he said, preferring to move on to matters of business. “Speed Stingers, I do believe you said?”

“Yes,” Magnus grimaced. “They have been terrorizing our island, though I am unsure how they got here in the first place.”

“We would be happy to take them off your hands, for the standard fee,” Viggo proposed, causing the other man to chuckle.

“Still a businessman, I see,” Magnus observed. “Well, can’t have those pests raiding our storehouses or attacking our people, so I suppose you have yourself a deal,” he agreed, offering his hand to shake on it.

“Excellent,” Viggo commented. “And have you any notion of where they are holing up during the day?”

“If I had, then I wouldn’t have called you in, now would I,” Magnus remarked.

“Too true,” he acknowledged. “Have I your permission to send my men and our hunting dragons into your forests, then?”

“Hunting dragons,” the Chief queried, an intrigued look on his face.

“As I said in a previous correspondence, we have found a better way to make the dragons work for us,” Viggo responded, glad that Ville was below deck as he hated this pretense and might have given it all away.

Magnus nodded disappointedly, clearly having hoped to garner more information, but as they gained his approval for their search, Viggo saw no need to expound upon their new practices. Not that he would have shared the truth of the matter regardless, but the other Chief did not need to know that.

Chapter Text

Kuori tossed his head in discomfort, not liking the muzzle and dragonproof chains draped around his neck.

“I know, big fella,” Ryker said, rubbing his dragon’s snout before mounting, “but it’s part of the act. We will remove it as soon as we return,” he promised. “So the sooner you find those Speed Stingers, the quicker we can get it off.”

The Rumblehorn eagerly took to the air and Ryker couldn’t blame him. Muzzles and chains had been used on dragons without giving it a second thought as little as a few years ago. Now, he found himself eager to remove them from his friend as soon as possible. He shook his head despairingly at how soft he had become, but quickly masked his feeling as Kuori descended into the village of Shivering Shores, sniffing around until he could pick up the trail of the Stingers. Ryker agreed with Viggo that keeping up their facade was essential, something that Ville was not old enough to fully grasp yet. Or perhaps he was just too idealistic. Regardless, they were not about to give the other tribe any impression other than that the Stormhearts were just as fierce as they had always been.

Kuori was quick to find the cave the Stingers had claimed as their home and Ryker praised him for a job well done. “Let’s get back to the ship and get our men moving while we still have daylight.”

The return flight was accomplished swiftly, and Ryker ordered for the ship to be brought around to the other side of the island, so as to be closer to the cave, making the retrieval easier. As planned, they used dragon nip gas to lull the dragons into an even deeper sleep. That did not mean that care was not necessary, though. “Watch those tails,” he called out as his men moved the Stingers into small cages. “Even if they’re drugged, they can still sting you.”

Thankfully, there were no incidents and they were soon sailing back around to the Shivering Shores port to inform the Chief they had finished and to collect the rest of their payment.

After docking, Ryker ordered the men to begin moving the cages below deck for safer transport now that Chief Magnus had seen the proof that their end of the contract was fulfilled. Stepping into the hold, he was not exactly surprised to see Ville poking around the dragon cages, trying to get a better look at the Stingers.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in your quarters,” he asked skeptically, startling the boy and causing him to jump.

“I’m below deck,” he answered innocently.

“That is not the same thing and you know it,” Ryker replied, though he personally saw no harm in it as there was no reason for Chief Magnus to come down here and discover the lad. “You just better hope Viggo doesn’t find out,” he commented, grabbing the back of his brother’s tunic as he got a little too close to one of the cages. “Watch it, Ville.”

“I’m sure they’d never hurt me,” he declared, taking Ryker back to four years ago when a very similar conversation had happened on this same ship.

“Maybe not once they know you,” he conceded, “but they’ve been drugged and moved to a new location. Odds are they won’t be too pleased when they wake up.” Ryker gestured to Toothless who was warbling and bobbing his head, saying, “See? Even Toothless agrees.”

Ville crossed his arms and looked up at him with narrowed eyes. “How do you know?”

“Am I wrong,” he countered, raising one eyebrow.

“No,” Ville muttered, deflating slightly.

“Exactly,” Ryker proclaimed. “I know you’ve been studying the dragon encyclopedia anytime Heddi will let you get your mitts on it, but knowing about these dragons and interacting with them are two completely different things,” he explained. “Keep your distance at least until you are truly sure you can trust them.”

“Okay,” Ville mumbled, reluctantly agreeing.

Their conversation was interrupted by one of Ryker’s men getting his attention and reporting, “That’s the last of them, sir.”

“Good,” he acknowledged. “As soon as Viggo completes the transaction and Magnus is off the ship, we will depart. See that preparations are made.”

“Yes, sir.”

Ryker was about to head up to the deck, but one glance told him that as soon as he left, his youngest brother would be getting closer to the cages than he should be, resulting in him turning to the Night Fury and requesting, “Toothless, keep an eye on him.”

The dragon grabbed his friend’s tunic with his mouth in much the same way as Ryker had just a few minutes ago.

“Really, bud,” Ville complained as he tried to wriggle free, resulting in a throaty warble from the Night Fury.

Ryker knew that Toothless didn’t want Vilhehn getting hurt any more than he did, so he felt safe leaving him to keep an eye on his rambunctious little brother.

-o0o-

It felt like Ville had been waiting for hours, but finally, he noticed the lead Speed Stinger begin to stir. “Hello,” he chirped, hoping to start things off on a friendly footing.

The Stinger stiffened at hearing his voice, eyes darting around suspiciously as he demanded, “Who speaks?”

“Me,” he replied, stepping a little closer, but not too close, keeping in mind Ryker’s warning. “My name is Ville. What is your name?”

“That is none of your business,” the lead Stinger hissed. “You work with these hunters?”

“They’re not hunters,” Ville protested. “Not anymore, at least.”

“These cages speak otherwise,” the dragon snapped.

“He speaks the truth,” Toothless said, coming to stand by his side. “These men are hunters no more, but they cannot let other human nests know of their supporting the dragons. They will think they are weak and attack.”

“Yes,” Ville hastily chimed in. “That’s why they had to cage you. Just to get you off the island. I would be happy to release you if you promise not to sting or bite us.”

“And my flock,” the Stinger inquired warily.

“Them too,” Ville offered, “though not without a solemn promise that they will not attack or hurt anyone on this ship.”

The lead Stinger paced within his cage. “How can I trust you?”

Rynnätä added her voice to the discussion from where she had been resting in her pen. “He is speaking your language, is he not?”

“Ville is a friend to all dragonkind,” Kuori added. “He would never harm you, nor would his clutchmates or their nestmates.”

Sharpshot landed on his shoulders and Ville reached up to scratch the Terror’s chin, hoping that the support from the other dragons would be enough to convince the Stingers. “Can I trust you,” he asked earnestly. “I hate seeing you in that cage, but I cannot release you until you agree to my terms.”

“And the human lurking in the hallway,” the Stinger queried distrustfully.

Ville’s brow furrowed, not sure what the dragon was talking about. “What human?”

“Your clutchmate,” Toothless warbled softly, leaving Ville feeling slightly betrayed that his friend hadn’t told him they were not alone.

“I said I could handle this,” he huffed, staring at the hallway that led to the deck.

“And I know you can,” Viggo replied, stepping out of the shadows and walking over, “but having backup never hurts.” He ruffled Ville’s hair and continued, “In addition, seeing you win over dragons never gets old.”

Ville sighed long-sufferingly and tried to bite back a smile, but he was not completely successful. Turning back to the caged dragon, he said, “This is my clutchmate and Alpha of our nest. May I introduce you?”

The lead Stinger looked between the brothers for a moment before guardedly accepting.

“And your name,” Ville pressed.

“Raske.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” he declared before making the official introductions.

Raske seemed to become more relaxed as the conversation progressed, much to Ville’s relief. He had already been thinking about how the pack of Speed Stingers would make a great addition to Tulva. Now he just had to figure out a way to convince Viggo to let them stay.

Chapter Text

Ville was pleased to win his third game of Maces and Talons against Viggo, but the victory was not as sweet as the first two times it had occurred, seeing as in this instance, his brother was incredibly distracted.

“Good job, Ville,” Viggo commended him, his gaze once again drifting to the stairs.

“This game doesn’t count,” he replied, scrunching up his nose. “You’re not exactly focused.”

“Too true,” Viggo grimaced, his hand tapping the table in a rare show of nerves. “I apologize.”

“It’s okay,” he responded just before another cry was heard from upstairs. Heddi had been in labor for hours and he was beginning to wonder if it was ever going to end. More than anything though, he was worried about his sister, as the whole ordeal seemed to be pretty awful. “Is having a baby really that painful?”

“It is most certainly not easy,” Viggo acknowledged, not really answering his question, but then again, maybe he was the wrong person to ask.

“Heddi will be okay though, right,” Ville pressed.

His brother smiled halfheartedly, saying, “I am sure she will be.”

He could tell Viggo was trying to put on a brave face, though whether he was trying to convince himself or Ville, the young boy could not tell. As he was carefully putting away the board, the game not having been the distraction for his brother he had hoped it to be, silence descended upon the house. Considering how the noise upstairs had been gradually increasing over the last hour or so, Ville was not sure if this was a good or bad thing. “Is it over,” he hesitantly asked.

He had barely finished speaking when a baby’s cry was heard, and everyone in the room seemed to let out a collective breath.

“I do believe it is,” Ryker declared, a smile on his face.

“Go to her, Viggo,” Grandfather said.

Viggo nodded, almost seeming dazed. “If you will excuse me,” he murmured before disappearing up the stairs.

Ville tried to sit still, but he knew he would not be able to rest until he was sure that everything was okay. Heddi was such an important part of their family and if anything happened to her…

He was pulled from his thoughts by the healer stepping into the room and informing them, “You all can go up now, if you would like.”

Ville was off like a shot, racing up the stairs, though upon reaching the door to Viggo and Heddi’s room, he hovered just outside, suddenly unsure if he wanted to see what awaited him on the other side.

His brother must have heard him, though, as he called out, “Come in, Ville. Come and meet your niece.”

He tentatively crept into the room, relieved to see that though Heddi looked tired, she was okay. She and Viggo were sitting next to each other on the bed, both smiling at a bundle in her arms, and, as his brother beckoned him closer, Heddi adjusted her hold on the bundle so that he could have a better look at the baby. 

“She’s so tiny,” he whispered in awe.

“That she is,” Viggo agreed softly as Ryker and Grandfather joined them, the dragons peeking their heads in as well.

“Congratulations you two,” Ryker commented, clapping Viggo on the back.

“A Grimborn if I ever saw one,” Grandfather remarked satisfactorily, though what made her look like a Grimborn was beyond Ville’s comprehension.

There was one thing he wanted to know, though. “What’s her name?”

Viggo and Heddi exchanged a glance before Heddi said, “Elisabet.”

It suited her, though Ville wasn’t sure why. It just did. As he continued to look at little Elisabet, he wondered what her personality would be like and how she would fit into their family, but he was content to wait. All he cared about now was that his family was safe and sound.

-o0o-

Ville groaned and debated lying his head underneath his pillow as the crying showed no signs of letting up. “I didn’t think human hatchlings were this loud,” he complained.

“Dragon hatchlings can be quite noisy, too,” Toothless grumbled, “but at least they normally quiet down once they’ve been fed.”

He sighed and sat up in his bed, debating whether he should try and go back to sleep or attempt to work on the design for his latest invention. “It’s going to be another long night, bud.”

“Do you want to sleep in my wings,” Toothless offered. “I think you said it helped block out the noise last time.”

“It does help some, but you know I’ll take any excuse I can to join you,” Ville grinned, clambering out of bed and practically throwing himself at his best friend who was quick to scoop him up and cocoon him in his wings.

With Elisabet’s cries muffled, Ville was able to drift back to sleep and, when morning came, he woke up feeling fairly well-rested. The same could not be said for the other members of his family, though some were a little more groggy than others. Unfortunately, this was just becoming a way of life now, but Ville was determined to focus on the positive.

Viggo had promised to spar with him this morning, something that happened all too rarely due to his brother’s obligations as Chief. He had been eagerly anticipating this time with his brother all week, and so, as he finished breakfast he turned to Viggo and asked, “Are you ready?”

His brother stared at him blankly for a moment before realization dawned and a look of regret crossed his face. “Ville, I am so sorry,” Viggo apologized earnestly, “but I am afraid I will need to postpone. Elizabet was up all night and I am not fit to take care of the tribe, much less wield a sword right now. Perhaps we can try for next week,” he offered.

Ville nodded dejectedly, refusing to meet Viggo’s gaze. He understood. He really did. But so much had changed in the last month with the arrival of little Elisabet and he had been looking forward to spending some one on one time with his brother, something that was becoming harder and harder to come by.

“Come on, Ville,” Ryker said, ruffling the boy’s hair. “No reason to slack off on your training. You can spar with me today.”

Ville retrieved his sword from where he had left it by the door and followed his eldest brother to the training arena, all excitement for the day completely gone. Even Toothless bounding along beside him was not enough to make him smile.

“I’m sorry I’m such a poor substitute,” Ryker commented drily, breaking the silence and making Vilhehn feel incredibly guilty.

“Sorry,” he hastened to say. “I didn’t mean to-”

“I’m just pulling your leg, kid,” Ryker smirked and threw an arm around Ville’s shoulders. “Now, how about we discuss what’s really bugging you?”

“It’s just, we spar all the time,” Ville explained. “After all, you are the one who trains me,” he pointed out before sighing. “Viggo’s just been so busy lately. Is…” He trailed off, afraid of the answer he might get if he asked the question hovering in the back of his mind.

“‘Is’ what,” Ryker inquired, kneeling beside him and meeting his gaze.

He recognized that look in his brother’s eye. He was not going to get out of this without finishing his half-spoken question. “Is it always going to be this way now?”

“What do you mean,” Ryker queried.

Vilhehn pushed the dirt around with his boot, muttering, “Now that Elisabet’s here.”

“Ah.” Ryker led Ville over to a bench and sat down next to him. “Things will settle down soon enough, Ville,” he reassured him. “You remember how you were worried when Viggo got married?”

He nodded slowly, not sure where his brother was going with this.

“This is the same thing, sort of,” Ryker revealed. “It will take some time for us to adjust, but it’s not a bad thing. Just one more person in our family to love and protect. And you get to be a part of that.”

Ville’s brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what his brother meant. “I do?”

“Yup,” Ryker nodded firmly. “That’s our job as uncles. To help make sure Elisabet is safe and happy and loved. Think you can do that?”

That did put things in a different spin on things. He could remember what his uncle was like, just the thought gave him chills, and he knew he didn’t want to be the same. But to help make sure Elisabet was safe and to love her and make her happy, those were all things he could do.

He smiled up at his brother and said, “I can try.”

“That’s all we can do,” Ryker acknowledged as he got to his feet. “Now, let’s see what part of your form we should work on today.”

Vilhehn kept his brother’s words in mind for the rest of the day, thinking of things he could do to help, and when he got home, he did his best to put it into practice. Heddi was busy fixing dinner and no one else was home yet, so he made his way over to the cradle in the main room, peeking over the edge to find that his niece was awake.

“Hey, Elisabet,” he said softly, holding his hand out so she could grasp his finger. Not knowing what else to do, he began to sing quietly and watched as she slowly drifted off to sleep. Considering how she had been up most of the night, he figured she could probably use it.

Heddi joined him a moment later, and upon seeing that Elisabet was sound asleep, she turned to Ville with a look of astonishment on her face. “How did you do that, Ville?”

“I was just singing to her,” he shrugged. “It was nothing special.”

“Neither Viggo nor I have managed to get her to sleep so easily,” she remarked, looking at him as if she was trying to piece together some puzzle.

“I’m sure she was just tired,” Ville claimed.

“And I’m sure that you have a way with her,” Heddi responded, smiling gratefully. “Thank you.”

Vilhehn didn’t feel that he had done much, but he accepted her thanks, and the next time he woke up to Elisabet’s cries, instead of attempting to go back to sleep, he went to lend a hand. Strangely enough, it turned out Heddi was right, and Ville managed to be the only one who could get Elisabet to fall asleep so fast. It definitely made him feel like he was helping his family and he realized that Ryker had been right. Things were a little different, but it wasn’t a bad different. Not at all.

Chapter Text

“Ryker!”

The warrior turned to see his eleven-year-old brother running his way, followed by Toothless, Sharpshot, a Nadder, two Changewings, and a Gronkle.

Reaching his side, Ville informed him, “Stormfly says she saw a ship approaching. She said it looked like a trader, but not one of the ones we normally have. The ship is much bigger.”

“Hmm…” Generally, Ryker would get Viggo and let him deal with this, but his brother was in a Council Meeting right now, along with their grandfather, and there was no telling how long that would take. Heddi was home with Elisabet, who was teething, and he didn’t feel right dumping this on his already tired sister-in-law. While it would be best for the ship to be met by either the Chief or Chieftess, he was Captain of the Guard, an equally important rank, and more than capable of dealing with anyone who did not belong on Tulva. 

“Thanks, Ville,” he said, reaching out and ruffling his little brother’s hair. “I’ll take care of it.” He told Kuori to stay behind and set off for the docks on foot, only for Vilhehn to fall into step beside him. Ryker glanced at his brother with one eyebrow raised and asked, “Where do you think you’re going?”

“With you,” he declared nonchalantly.

Ryker stopped and looked at his brother sternly. “Ville, this is not one of our normal traders.”

“Stormfly said they didn’t look dangerous,” Ville reasoned. “And Karl and Loni will be watching from the shore,” he added, gesturing to the two Changewings who were still following him. “Toothless, too.”

While having the dragons nearby as backup would be handy, that did not mean Ryker was going to let Vilhehn just walk into an unknown situation. “It’s not safe,” he maintained, hoping to get that point through his brother’s stubborn head.

“The Changewings could get me out at the first sight of danger without anyone even seeing them,” Ville proposed. “Please?”

Ryker would swear his brother had been taking lessons from Toothless on how to successfully beg as he found his resolve weakening. “Fine,” he begrudgingly agreed, “but if I tell you to get out of there, you’d better book it.”

Ville nodded eagerly, though whether he would actually obey was another story, and they resumed their trek, the group of dragons following them whittling down to just Toothless and the Changewings, though Ryker had a feeling Sharpshot was not too far away either.

They reached the docks just as the ship was pulling into the harbor. Upon seeing them, a broad-shouldered blonde man called out, “Greetings. We are looking for the island of Tulva. Have we come to the right spot?”

“You have,” Ryker replied, catching the mooring line and fastening it. “I am Ryker, Captain of the Guard, and this is my youngest brother Vilhehn. Judging by your ship, I am assuming you have come to trade?”

A buxom blonde appeared on the deck next to the man. “We would not object,” she said, “but there is another reason we have searched out your tribe.” She walked across the gangplank the man had set out and introduced herself. “My name is Norell and this is my brother Ryden. We have come in the hopes of requesting your aid.”

Ryker crossed his arms. “What kind of aid?”

“Though we are traders, we belong to a tribe up north,” Norell explained. “The Frostwolves.”

“We had been away longer than normal due to the deplorable weather,” Ryden continued, “but when we returned, the village had been destroyed. As far as we could tell, it seemed like most of the people had managed to flee, but we do not know where they went. In our travels, we have heard of your tracking dragons and were hopeful that maybe you could assist us.”

“How long ago did all this happen,” Ryker inquired.

“The destruction was not terribly fresh,” Ryden revealed. “Maybe a week or two before we arrived. And with that last storm, it took a little over a week for us to get here.”

“The odds of a scent trail being left behind after all that time, especially in this weather, are slim to none. I doubt it would be worth the effort, though it’s up to you,” Ryker responded. “Sorry if you made the trip for nothing.”

“Well, it was worth a try,” Norell replied, shrugging as she glanced at her brother. “And maybe it will not be for naught, if you are amenable to doing trade with us?”

“I am going to need a new journal soon,” Ville piped in, looking up at his brother hopefully.

Norell grinned, seeming to be as instantly taken with Ville as everyone else was. “We have some in a crate near the stern of the ship, if you would like to take a look.”

“Can I,” Ville requested.

Ryker was pleased that his brother was asking rather than jumping into things as normal and so he gave his permission. “Go on,” he said, waving his brother forward, though he didn’t need the encouragement as he was off like a shot. Turning back to the siblings, he inquired, “Was there anyone in particular you were hoping to find? Your family perhaps?”

Ryden grimaced. “We have an uncle but are not particularly close to him. We will be fine on our own,” he assured him. “We were just hoping to discover what had happened. It is nice to have a base to return to, but not necessary.”

They went on to discuss the weather in the area and local spots to be careful about traveling through. Ville eventually returned, though at the sight of him, all conversation stopped. Ryden and Norell were staring at him in shock, while Ryker was suppressing the urge to run his hand down his face.

“Is something wrong,” Ville asked, a perplexed look on his face.

Norell gestured to the two Terrors, one perched on Ville’s head and the other draped around his shoulders. “How did you…?”

“Oh, Vörður and Verja,” Vilhehn queried, reaching up to scratch the chin of the Terror on his shoulder. “They’re very nice,” he commented. “Are all the Frostwolves friendly with dragons?”

Ryden blinked a few times before hesitantly saying, “Not exactly. We came across these two when we were searching an isolated island for rare resources to trade. We camped there overnight and they came nosing around. Fed them some fish and they didn’t seem to want to leave.” He shrugged. “I think they saw us as an easy meal ticket, but they’ve been useful in keeping thieves off our ship, so we’ve let them stick around.”

No sooner had he finished his explanation than Ville started chirping to the two Terrors.

If Ryker had been closer, he would have slapped his hand over his brother’s mouth. “Ville,” he snapped, garnering the young boy’s attention.

“What?”

Ryker’s expression must have given away his displeasure and Vilhehn was quick to catch on to the reason.

“Sorry,” he shrugged, grinning awkwardly. “Anyway, Verja says that even the ashes of your old village smelled old, so there’s no chance we could pick up a trail. I’m sorry.”

The information he had gleaned was completely overlooked as Norell looked at him curiously. “You can speak with the dragons?”

“Something which we do not normally let outsiders become aware of,” Ryker growled, glaring at his brother.

The brother who was guardedly looking for a way to sneak past him. “So, I’m just going to…”

Ryker grabbed the back of Ville's fur coat as he tried to make a break for it. “Nope, I’m not letting you out of my sight.“ He should have known bringing Vilhehn along would lead to some sort of trouble. Though in all honesty, he knew something like this might happen, he had just hoped that as Ville was growing older, he would become more cautious. 

“I didn’t mean to,” his little brother protested.

“You never do,” he pointed out.

“But it’s not like Ryden and Norell are just anyone,” Ville proclaimed, trying to defend his actions. “They’re friends with dragons, too, so I don’t understand what the problem is.”

While he was not pleased with the turn of events, he could not deny that his brother had a good point. “Do their dragons vouch for them?”

“Uh-huh.”

Ryker eyed the siblings skeptically. It was not in his nature to trust easily, much like a dragon, but if the two Terrors trusted them… “Most traders limit their runs in the colder months,” he stated. “Are you planning on heading back out or…?”

“The size of our ship allows us to weather the rougher storms,” Ryden declared proudly. “We will be fine.”

“You might be, but we have reason to believe the storm coming in is a bad one,” Ryker disclosed. He wasn’t sure if this was the best course of action, but… “You are more than welcome to stay here for its duration, possibly longer, but that will have to be discussed with the Chief.”

Ville perked up at his words, quickly adding, “I think you’ll fit in here really well. Maybe Grandfather and Viggo will even let you stay with us.” For some reason, that idea seemed to please the lad. Holding out a book that no one had noticed with the dragons draped over him, he said, “By the way, I found a journal I like, what do you want in trade?”

Ryker held back a sigh. Leave it to Ville to switch from practically welcoming the newcomers into their tribe to something so mundane as trading for a journal. One day that kid would settle down…he hoped.

Chapter Text

Ville had raced home ahead of his brother, pleased to find that Grandfather and Viggo were back, and managed to convince them to let Ryden and Norell stay with them. The invitation was issued and accepted, and it was a good thing too, because the storm hit the next day and it was one of the worst ones they’d had, a true blizzard.

Vilhehn was content though, sitting by the fire, playing Maces and Talons with Viggo. He was determined to win at least one game today, though his focus did occasionally drift to the others in the room. The dragons had piled on top of each other in one corner, sleeping the day away, while Heddi and Norell were talking with each other between fussing over Elisabet. Ryker and Ryden were more focused on maintaining their weapons, though they did exchange a comment here and there, with Grandfather chiming in now and then.

Once Ville finally won, after only three losses he might add, he joined Heddi and Norell, listening to them talk as he played with Elisabet. Norell seemed to have lived quite an adventurous life and he looked forward to getting to know her better. Her brother, too, but there was something about her…

And thus, as he was getting ready for bed, he told his brother, “I like Norell. She’s nice.”

“Is that why you gave up your room,” Ryker inquired, one eyebrow raised.

“I didn’t mind,” Ville shrugged, a smile creeping onto his face. “Plus, I like sleeping in Toothless’ wings.”

“Yeah, well, I guess they’re not bad,” Ryker begrudgingly admitted, “but I look forward to having my room back to myself.”

Ville tilted his head. While he had shared a room with Viggo when he was younger, it was rare for him to stay with Ryker, especially for more than one night in a row. “Don’t you like having us here with you?”

“Toothless snores,” Ryker grumbled halfheartedly.

He knew that was a lie, and quickly exclaimed, “He does not!”

Ryker looked at him skeptically, a slight grin threatening to appear. “Then maybe it’s you.”

Ville froze, wondering if that was true, but a quick glance at Toothless, who was shaking his head, told him otherwise. “You’re just making that up,” he declared.

“Maybe I am. Maybe I’m not,” Ryker shrugged.

He knew his brother was teasing him, but still… “I can sleep downstairs if you-”

“You’re fine, Ville,” Ryker assured him gruffly, but that was simply his way. “I’m just ruffling your feathers, or maybe I should say your scales considering the company you keep.”

Vilhehn let out the breath that he had unconsciously been holding. He knew that his brothers loved him and liked spending time with him, but despite it having been five years, the occasional doubt would still sometimes creep in. He made himself comfortable in Toothless’ wing, leaving his head sticking out as there was something he wanted to ask Ryker. “Don’t you like Ryden and Norell?”

“I don’t know them well enough to say,” his oldest brother responded.

Ville was really hoping the siblings would decide to stay on Tulva, and the more people and dragons they befriended, the easier that would be. With that in mind, he yawned and sleepily said, “Then you should get to know them better.”

-o0o-

Norell watched her brother bed down on the floor in front of the door of her borrowed bedroom. “You know, I don’t need you in here protecting me,” she remarked. “One, because I really don’t think I’m in any danger. And two, I can take care of myself.”

“And I’m not going to be able to sleep if I’m worrying over your safety,” Ryden shot back, giving her a look that she was all too familiar with.

Traveling as much as they did, it wasn’t unusual for her to garner unwanted attention, but they hadn’t faced that problem here, so she didn’t understand what Ryden’s deal was. She huffed and pulled up her furs but did not blow the candle out just yet. “You know, it’s pretty nice here,” she observed casually, hoping to get a bit of insight into her brother’s thoughts of these people and their way of life.

“Cooped up in this house with a bunch of complete strangers,” he countered incredulously.

Well, so much for that. “Do you always have to be so negative,” she complained.

“It’s called being cautious,” he retorted.

“But don’t you think what they have with the dragons is amazing,” she asked, propping herself up with one arm as she looked his way.

He shrugged. “We have Vörður and Verja. It’s not that different.”

“But it is,” she insisted, not understanding how he couldn’t see that. “Wouldn’t you like to stick around and find out more?”

“We’re traders, Norell.”

“But it’s not in our blood,” she reasoned. “We only set out on this path to get out of Uncle’s house and because we didn’t want to be tied down. But with dragons, we would never be tied to one place.”

“I don’t know, Elle,” he replied. “You can’t just give up everything we’ve built on a whim.”

“Could we just stay until the weather warms up,” she requested, knowing that they had been planning to take a break as it was. “That’s only a month or two.”

Ryden’s eyes narrowed as he said, “There’s more to this, isn’t there?”

“What do you mean,” she asked innocently.

“I have eyes, Elle. You’re clearly interested in the eldest Grimborn,” he stated baldly.

While he was on the right track, she couldn’t help but tweak his nose, hoping to get him to lighten up a bit. “Niklas is nice,” she acknowledged, “but he’s much too old for me.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” her brother grumpily protested.

Okay, so he was not in a teasing mood. She sighed and said, “There was never anyone back home and Ryker is…well…” She wasn’t sure what he was, not yet anyway, but there was something there that she could not deny. “I’d like a chance to get to know him better,” she confessed. “Is that too much to ask?”

“I still don’t like this,” Ryden maintained, though he seemed to be softening, albeit slightly.

“Your dislike is duly noted,” she quipped, unable to help herself. Her brother was just so serious sometimes and needed to lighten up. Hesitantly, she inquired, “So, can we stay? Just for a bit?”

“Fine,” he reluctantly agreed, “but don’t let yourself get too comfortable here. We’ll be leaving as soon as the bad weather passes.”

Norell grinned and thanked him before blowing out the candle. That may be Ryden’s plan, but she had a plan of her own. Traveling and trading was all well and good, and she liked the business that she had helped her brother to build, but at the same time, she missed the regular companionship of other people and found herself wanting to settle down. The Stormhearts seemed to be quite welcoming, or maybe it was just little Vilehehn’s influence over everybody, but she wouldn’t mind staying if given the chance.

She had a month, maybe two, and she was determined to make the most of it.

Chapter Text

After three days, the storm had finally abated and when Norell came downstairs, she noticed that all the dragons were already gone. She could understand why as they had been getting a tad stir crazy the day before, as was Vilhehn who was practically bouncing in his seat during breakfast, clearly anxious to get out of the house.

“Now that the storm’s over, maybe I can give you a tour of Tulva,” he offered excitedly, “and then I can take you to meet the dragons.”

“That sounds lovely, Vilhehn,” she replied. “Thank you.”

“One problem with that,” Ryker chimed in, pointing his spoon at his youngest brother. “You have weapons training this morning.”

“But Ryker,” Vilhehn whined, drawing out his brother’s name. “We have guests.”

“And if I let you off the hook every time you gave me an excuse, you’d never be able to protect yourself,” he countered, causing Vilhehn to pout quite adorably, though she would never say that out loud.

Biting back a smile, she said, “I don’t mind, Vilhehn. Perhaps I can come along to watch and we can have our tour after you are done.”

“I guess,” he drawled reluctantly before perking up and turning to her brother. “You can come, too, Ryden, if you want.”

“I thank you for the offer, but I need to check on our ship,” he responded, a slight smile on his face. While he was still not comfortable with the Grimborns, he had softened up a bit around Vilhehn at least, but he was such a sweet child, how could you not? “Might even open up for trade while the weather holds,” he added.

“I will be sure to pass that information along to the rest of the village,” Viggo offered, her brother quick to thank him for his assistance.

Vilhehn, though, was not content to sit around any longer and, after collecting his sword, he grasped her hand and began to pull her away from the table. “Come on, Norell!”

She laughed and happily followed him out the door, grabbing her coat and weapons on the way. Norell had to admit, she was quite surprised that the arena was clear, as were some of the pathways, considering how much snow they had gotten. Commenting on that fact, Vilhehn told her that the dragons helped out where they could. The arena was easy as it was made of stone and they could just melt the snow and ice, while the pathways were a little more difficult. But the dragons still did their best to remove the biggest drifts from the center of the village, making it easier for everyone to go about their business.

She quite enjoyed watching Vilhehn’s lesson, though she would be hard-pressed to say who she paid more attention to, the boy or his older brother. Ryker was most definitely a fine fighter, though he held back to match his brother’s skill, but even that was impressive.

When they walked over to where she was sitting, she was quick to praise the lad. “I must say, I was not expecting to see such skill in one so young,” she declared.

He beamed and glanced up at his brother. “Ryker’s a good teacher.”

“And Ville is a sharp student,” Ryker responded, tousling the lad’s hair, before turning to face her. “What about you? You any good with a weapon?”

“I get by,” she shrugged nonchalantly.

Ryker looked at her for a moment before saying, “Ville’s done for the day, but I’d be happy to spar with you if you want. I’d imagine you don’t normally have many opportunities.”

“Against new opponents, no,” she confided. “My brother and I will go at it occasionally, but I’m quite used to all of his tricks.”

“Will you, Norell,” Vilhehn asked eagerly.

“Why not,” she grinned, grabbing her staff. “It might be fun at that.”

Ryker nodded, heading off to the weapons rack. “Lemme see if we have another staff around here.”

“I can handle any weapon,” Norell proclaimed, slightly offended that he thought so little of her skills.

The eldest Grimborn simply looked at her with one eyebrow raised before resuming his search. “Not these,” he maintained.

“And why is that,” she inquired, crossing her arms.

“Our weapons are made of a special metal, unique to the Stormhearts, that will cut clean through a standard weapon,” he explained with a hint of exasperation, returning with a staff in one hand and passing her one of his daggers with the other.

She inspected the blade, marveling at the craftsmanship and how lightweight it was, intrigued by the purple tint to the metal. “I had noticed the unusual color of your weapons,” she acknowledged, nodding toward Vilhehn’s black sword and remembering catching sight of Viggo using a dagger with a blood-red blade. “I’ve never seen a metal anything like this before.”

“We have Ville to thank for it,” Ryker remarked, his pride in his brother clear. “He discovered it and has basically become a smithing prodigy. All of our family’s weapons were made by him.”

“It was just an experiment that turned out well,” Vilhehn shared humbly, giving a slight shrug. “And I like making things.”

“Well, you are very skilled at it,” Norell declared, passing Ryker back his dagger. “If we had weapons like that on our ship, they would sell in an instant.“

“They’re only for Stormhearts,” the lad replied adamantly, “but thank you. Are you going to spar now?”

Vilhehn was a dear, but he was not exactly subtle. Seeing that he was anxious for the attention to be removed from him, Norell agreed and got in a defensive stance, Ryker taking it as an invitation to attack. What followed was a flurry of strikes and blocks, turning it into one of the best sparring sessions Norell had participated in for quite some time. She eventually managed to give Ryker a good jab in the gut, and called a halt to their match, wanting to make sure she hadn’t hit him too hard.

The warrior was slightly winded but assured her he was fine. “You do far more than just get by,” he observed drily once he had caught his breath.

“I’ve found it’s best to never let your opponent know your true capabilities,” she claimed, spinning her staff expertly. “It has often worked to my advantage to let others underestimate me.”

“I would pity the man who made such an assumption, but I have a suspicion that anyone who met the end of your staff more than likely deserved it,” Ryker stated, a hint of a question in his tone.

“You would not be wrong,” she admitted, glad that Vilhehn ran up at that moment, as she didn’t want to get into it.

“That was great,” the boy exclaimed.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” she responded with a smile.

Vilhehn turned to his brother and said, “It’s almost lunchtime. Can we go to the Great Hall now?”

“You two go on,” he answered. “I’ve got a few things to take care of first.”

Norell took Vilhehn’s outstretched hand and let him lead the way as he pointed out some of the buildings they passed and told her about the different dragons who seemed to be flocking around them. Most of them remained outside the Great Hall, though a couple followed them in, but it seemed those were the ones that Vilhehn was closest with, namely Toothless and Sharpshot.

Lunch was a pleasant affair, Heddi joining them with little Elisabet, though as soon as they were done eating, Vilhehn was quick to drag her off to the dragon stables, which turned out to be a large cave system with a hollowed-out center.

She slowly turned, taking it all in with a sense of wonder as the different dragons came and went, and all so peaceably. “This is like nothing I’ve ever seen before,” she murmured.

“They are pretty amazing aren’t they,” Vilhehn grinned.

Her attention was pulled from the boy by something cold brushing up against her hand and she glanced down to see a Razorwhip at her side.

She didn’t think it was possible, but when she looked back up at Vilhehn, it appeared that his smile had grown. “Looks like you’ve made a friend,” he declared.

“May I,” she asked, hesitantly reaching her hand toward the dragon.

Vilhehn nodded, and as she stroked the metallic scales, he observed, “She likes you.”

“I like her, too.”

“I’m glad,” Vilhehn commented. “Skarpur’s not too big,” he said thoughtfully, “so I think I can convince Grandfather and Viggo to let her stay with us.”

Norell’s brow furrowed as her gaze swept over to the lad. “What are you talking about?”

“You’re friends now,” he repeated, acting like that was more than enough of an explanation.

“Yes, you said that, but-”

“Like me and Toothless,” he clarified and then the realization sank in.

She looked back down at the Razorwhip, who seemed to be looking at her adoringly and slowly began to shake her head. “Oh, Vilhehn, I-”

“You can call me Ville if you want,” he offered. “Everybody does”

“Ville, I- I was not planning on making friends with a dragon,” she revealed. “I don’t even know what my plans will be or if she’ll be able to join me.”

“That’s okay,” he reassured her. “I’m sure she’ll be able to figure something out.”

As Ville walked over to the other side of the stables, apparently expecting her to follow him, she couldn’t help but think that he had some kind of plan of his own that she was a part of. Whatever it was, he was clearly pleased about how things were progressing if his grin was anything to go by. And if Skarpur gave her a reason to stay on Tulva…well, she wouldn’t exactly object.

Chapter Text

The worst of the storms seemed to be behind them and Ryden was ready to be on his way. His sister though was another story. Having bonded with that Razorwhip, she seemed content to stay in Tulva for the foreseeable future.

After asking around, he had managed to find a widow who rented out rooms and, since his stay here had been more than profitable, he could easily afford to pay for his sister to stay there, providing her with respectable lodgings in his absence. He would not mind adding this island to his route, and maybe even wintering here again, but currently, his biggest concern was Norell’s attraction to Ryker and the fact that it was becoming mutual.

He needed a chance to speak with the eldest Grimborn brother without others around, but those occasions were hard to come by. He knew that today was one of the days Ryker could be found at the training arena with Vilhehn and, figuring this would be his best chance, he made his way there, hoping to catch them before they left.

Thankfully, they seemed to be finishing up as he arrived and after a moment, they came over to greet him. With the pleasantries out of the way, he turned to Ryker and said, “We need to talk.”

The eldest Grimborn brother looked at him skeptically. “About what?”

“I’m going to be leaving soon,” he disclosed, “but I do believe Norell will be staying.”

“She will,” Vilhehn asked excitedly.

Ryker must have discerned that there was more to what he was saying than met the eye as he told his youngest brother, “We’re done for the day, Ville. You can go now.”

“But what if I want to stay,” Vilhehn queried, a stubborn look on his face.

Ryker flicked a hand and his Rumblehorn ambled forward, picking the boy up by the back of his vest and taking him in the direction of the Great Hall.

“Kuori, put me down,” Ville cried out as he squirmed in the dragon’s mouth, but the Rumblehorn paid him no attention and just kept going. Toothless, on the other hand, seemed to find the whole situation very amusing and let out a draconic laugh before catching up.

“What are you really trying to say,” Ryker inquired, crossing his arms.

“What makes you think you’re good enough for my sister,” he demanded, getting right to the point.

Ryker raised one eyebrow and countered, “What makes you think there’s anything between us?”

He rolled his eyes, declaring, “I’m not an idiot.”

“Even if there was something between us, I don’t see what business it is of yours,” Ryker retorted. “She’s a grown woman who is more than capable of making up her own mind.”

“I did not get her away from our uncle to let her just waltz into another untenable situation,” he proclaimed. It’s not that he thought the Grimborns would treat her badly, but you couldn’t always tell these things about people until it was too late, something he had to learn the hard way, unfortunately.

His statement seemed to catch Ryker’s attention though. “Your uncle was cruel?”

“Very,” he responded bluntly. “Both verbally and physically. He took us in when our parents died. We were twelve and fourteen.” Ryden took a deep breath, trying to push aside the memories that came flooding back from that time. “Those were tough years, but as soon as we were old enough we set out on our own, making a name for ourselves.” He paused for a moment before looking Ryker in the eye. “I will not risk Norell’s safety,” he stated firmly.

Ryker nodded before abruptly saying, “Did you know that Vilhehn is adopted?”

He looked askance at the other man, not understanding how the change of topic was relevant. “I don’t see what that-”

“He was from another tribe,” Ryker continued as if he hadn’t said anything, looking off into the distance with his fists clenched. “Though his father was alive, he was left mostly to the care of his uncle who was also physically abusive. He was even planning to dispose of Ville, but two members of the tribe managed to whisk him away. He was only six at the time and was treated horribly by practically his entire village.” He turned to face him and Ryden could see the lingering animosity in his eyes. “Let me assure you that anyone who treats others that way, much less their family, and even worse a child, is despicable,” he spat. “Don’t think my brother and I have not debated going and plundering Ville’s homeland. It is less than they deserve,” he noted harshly, “but it could also lead to his location being compromised and that is not something we are willing to risk.” He held Ryden’s gaze for a moment before concluding, “All this to say that if Norell decides to remain in Tulva, we will ensure she is protected as if she were one of our own. Though she would argue that she is more than capable of taking care of herself and I’m inclined to think she’s right,” he finished with a smirk.

Ryden could see that the other man meant every word he said and he thanked him for his promise. That still left one other matter, though, one that had already been brushed aside once. “As her brother, I must ask, though, what are your intentions? And no dodging the question this time.”

“At this point, I can’t say that I have any,” Ryker shrugged stoically, “other than to get to know her better.”

“And if things progress,” he queried.

“A courtship is always a possibility, I suppose,” Ryker admitted.

“Then let’s settle things between us right now,” he proposed, drawing out his axe. “A friendly sparring match. If you can beat me, then you have my permission to court my sister when the time comes.”

“I don’t reckon I need it,” Ryker declared.

Ryden’s eyes narrowed. “Trust me, you do.”

“If you insist,” Ryker shrugged, “but let me grab a different weapon. These will cut yours in two,” he explained, gesturing to his dual swords.

He nodded, remembering Norell explaining something similar about the tribe’s weapons. At least the fact that Ryker was willing to fight fairly boded well.

As soon as he had a Gronckle Iron sword in hand though, Ryden let out a battle cry and charged. They were well-matched and he was beginning to think the sparring session would never end, but Ryker eventually got the upper hand and managed to unarm him, though not without great effort.

Panting heavily, Ryden graciously admitted defeat and clapped the other man on the back, saying, “After that, I don’t suppose I can have any objections. Welcome to the family, brother.”

Chapter Text

As Ville looked around the dinner table at his family, he couldn’t help but think how much had changed in the last year, and yet, how things had also stayed the same.

Ryker and Norell were officially courting and things were progressing at a rapid pace. It was moving even quicker than some realized as Ryker had already commissioned Ville to create a pendant for a betrothal gift, but that was a secret between the two of them. It was just about done and Ville had a feeling that his brother would not be waiting long before presenting it to Norell.

Ryden had returned to spend the winter with them and he and his sister were staying in the extension Viggo had deemed necessary to build toward the end of summer. Needless to say, once Ryker began courting, the rest of the family viewed his coming marriage as a foregone conclusion and Viggo had thought it best to be prepared. The extension allowed their rapidly growing family more space that they were sure to need in the coming years.

Speaking of rapidly growing, little Elisabet was not as little anymore. She was now toddling around and starting to say a few words other than their names, though much to Ville’s disappointment, she did not seem to be picking up the language of the dragons, but maybe that would come with time.

Though the storms these past months had been fierce, as they were every winter, it was cozy inside surrounded by his family. They were all here, humans and dragons, as Viggo had finally given into Ville’s pleas to add a small stable when they built the extension, allowing Sulka to join them when the weather was rough. All in all, Ville thought that things were pretty perfect.

Once they had finished eating, everyone spread throughout the enlarged main room and his grandfather called him over to where he was sitting by the fire.

“What is it, Grandfather,” he asked. “Do you need me to get something for you?”

The elder Grimborn shook his head and patted the bench next to him, encouraging Vilhehn to take a seat. “I need to explain something to you about Stormheart traditions. You see, when a young man turns sixteen, he is considered an adult,” he explained. “To commemorate the occasion, an older member of the family, generally a father or grandfather, will give him two gifts. One item is something that has belonged to said family member and the other is something new.” Grandfather pulled a small bundle from underneath the bench and continued, “Now, as I said, this normally happens when a young man turns sixteen, but I am getting older and do not know if I will still be around when you reach that milestone, so I would like to do it now.”

Ville looked at his grandfather in confusion. While it was true that the older man had slowed down a bit in the last year, he was still healthy and relatively active. Surely he would still be here in four years to follow through on the tradition at the proper time. Ville slowly shook his head, and protested, “But, Grandfather-”

“You are twelve now, Vilhehn, and very mature for your age,” Grandfather stated, patting his shoulder. “I know you will value your gifts and not abuse them as others of your age would, otherwise I would entrust these items to Viggo for the future, though I am sure he, and possibly Ryker, are already planning something for that event themselves,” he added, a slight smile on his face. “Regardless, these are my gift to you.” Partially unwrapping the bundle, he said, “For something new, I thought it was past time you had a proper belt.”

His brow furrowed as he glanced down at his waist. “What’s wrong with my-” He broke off, though, as he caught sight of the buckle on the belt his grandfather was handing him. He traced his fingers over the design, before looking up excitedly. “Really?”

“Really,” Grandfather nodded. “It is high time you began to wear our tribal crest. Blood or not, you have always been a Stormheart,” he said sincerely.

Ville was quick to swap out his old belt for the new one, his heart ready to burst at his grandfather’s words. He had never felt like a Berkian, and maybe that was why. He had always belonged here, even if he didn’t know it at the time.

“As for the other item,” his grandfather continued, pulling his attention back to the present, “this was the gift my grandfather gave me when I turned sixteen, and I would like to pass it on to you.”

Vilhehn reverently accepted the wooden trinket box, examining the dragon carvings that covered it in awe. “But shouldn’t this go to Viggo or Ryker,” he inquired softly, thinking that such a beautiful heirloom should go to someone who was family by blood.

“They have already received their gifts,” Grandfather insisted, waving off his concerns. “If you had not come along, then yes, it would have gone to one of them eventually, but I believe it suits you best.”

“I will treasure it always, Grandfather,” he proclaimed, carefully holding the box to his chest. “Thank you.”

“You are welcome.” His grandfather smiled before quirking one eyebrow. “I know that look on your face, boy. Out with it.”

Ville grinned guiltily. He couldn’t help it if he was curious. “What did Viggo and Ryker receive when they turned sixteen?”

“I had saved some of their father’s belongings for those occasions,” Grandfather responded. “Ryker received his axe-”

“The one on display in his room,” Ville queried.

“The very one,” Grandfather confirmed. “And Viggo was given his father’s ceremonial cloak, a special one that denotes him as heir. It will one day be passed on to Elisabet.”

“And you said this was from your grandfather,” Ville asked holding up the small wooden box, looking at it once again in awe.

“That it was,” Grandfather acknowledged. “He carved it specifically for me.”

“I promise I’ll take really good care of it,” Ville swore earnestly.

Grandfather reached out to ruffle his hair. “I know you will.”

Chapter Text

Unlike Viggo’s union ceremony, Ville was thoroughly enjoying the wedding of his oldest brother. He was much more sure of his family’s love than he had been four years ago and was not plagued by doubts. He was also thrilled that Norell would officially become part of their family. 

As he watched Ryker and his new wife on the dance floor, something he had never thought to see considering his brother’s gruff nature, Marja sidled up beside him and dreamily said, “She’s so pretty.”

“She is,” Ville responded, watching Ryker spin Norell, her wedding finery glistening under the torchlight. “I’m just glad they’re happy.”

“You realize that you’ll be next,” Marja pointed out, causing Ville to look at her in shock.

“I’m only twelve,” he proclaimed. “It will be a while before I’m ready to get married.”

Marja blushed slightly as she clarified, “I just meant that since your brothers are both married, you’re the only one left.”

Ville nodded thoughtfully and murmured, “I guess that’s true.” It didn’t mean he was ready to think about it any time soon, though.

“What are you two doing just standing there,” Viivi exclaimed as she joined them. “Come get some food before it’s all gone.”

“Like that’s going to happen,” Akseli rolled his eyes as he followed her over. “You know they’ve been preparing for weeks.”

Viivi shot something back about the best foods getting eaten the quickest and the fact that she was not planning on missing out as she dragged them with her to the buffet tables.

Ville laughed at his friend’s antics, but happily joined them, glad that his brother had found someone so special.

The Stormhearts’ revelry went late into the night and, the next day, Ryker and Norell set off on a week-long wedding trip, much the same as Viggo and Heddi had done, which gave Ville just enough time to finish up the gift he had been working on. He had hoped to have it done sooner, but he had faced a few setbacks. Setting to work with a will, he was able to finish it just in time and presented his gift to Norell the morning after their return.

“Why, Ville, what is this,” Norell asked in awe, admiring the detailed engraving upon the entire length of the staff he passed her.

“I wanted to make something for you, to welcome you to the family,” he explained. “I would have given it to you at the wedding, but it took a little longer than I was expecting.”

Ryker looked over his wife’s shoulder and declared, “Ville, this is some of your finest work.”

He awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, the Dragon Iron was a little too slick on its own, but I wanted something that could stand up to the rest of our weapons, so I couldn’t use anything else. The engraving should hopefully allow you to have a better grip.” He reached into his satchel and pulled out the last part of his gift, holding it out to his brother and sister-in-law. “There’s a set of matching daggers, and a new set for you, too, Ryker.”

He had poured his heart into those as well, though they paled in comparison to the staff. Norell thanked him effusively for her gift, with Ryker adding his thanks, too, and he found himself blushing. He had just wanted to do something nice for his family. After all, that’s what family does. But their thanks and praise were always very much appreciated, encouraging him to continue creating and trying new things.

-o0o-

Ville smiled to himself as he scooped up his two-year-old niece. Though their family had grown, things had not truly changed, not in essentials anyway.

“Toofie!”

He laughed at his niece’s name for the Night Fury as she reached out for the dragon, eager to spend time with him. “Come on, Elisabet,” he said. “You’re coming with us today.”

“No flying with her, Ville,” Heddi reminded him, to which he rolled his eyes.

“I know,” he replied, trying to hide the hint of exasperation in his voice that was threatening to creep through. “Toothless would never even leave the ground with her on his back,” he insisted.

Heddi simply raised one eyebrow before stating, “I seem to recall some instances from your youth-”

“But I wasn’t that little,” he exclaimed. “And Toothless always asked me for permission first. He knows she’s too young.”

The Night Fury huffed and grumbled under his breath, not speaking loud enough that Ville could tell what he was saying, but clearly offended that Heddi would think so little of him.

Heddi seemed to catch on to that as she bit back a smile. “Just be careful and be back in time for dinner.”

“We will,” Ville promised, sliding onto Toothless’ saddle and setting Elisabet in front of him, wrapping his arm around her to make sure she didn’t fall off as the Night Fury walked them through the village.

Easily launching into one of his niece’s favorite games, he said, “I spy with my little eye, something black.”

Elisabet bounced up and down, saying, “Toofie!”

Ville laughed as she clapped her little hands. “You got it,” he exclaimed. “Now it’s your turn, Lissa.”

She looked around for a moment, her little face screwed up in thought. “I ’py sumting…big!”

“Something big, eh,” he queried lightly. He already knew what the answer was, as his niece was very predictable, but he decided to play along. “Hmm, could it be…the Great Hall?”

She shook her head, her braids swinging back and forth.

“One of the trees,” he guessed.

“No,” she smiled.

“What about…Toothless?”

Elisabet giggled and nodded, which didn’t surprise him. No matter what her clues were, they always seemed to be about the closest dragon, which had upon more than one occasion caused Viggo to swear she was taking more after Ville than she was her own parents.

As they were nearing the middle of the village, Vilhehn heard someone calling his name and looked up to see his friends running their way. “Hey guys!”

“Hey,” Akseli greeted him. “You got Elisabet today?”

“Yeah, so our adventures have to stay a little closer to home,” he responded. “Don’t let us keep you, though.”

“It’s no fun without you,” Viivi proclaimed. “We can go flying another day. So, what are we going to do?”

“We were just heading to the forest,” Ville shared, gesturing to the other side of the village, “probably play a game or two.”

The others fell into step beside them, their dragons going off to play a game of their own, not wanting to risk hurting the ‘human hatchling.’ They offered for Toothless to join them, but he declined, feeling that keeping Elisabet occupied was partly his responsibility, too.

Upon reaching a clearing just inside the forest, Ville dismounted, pulling Elisabet off with him before reaching into Toothless’ saddlebag and removing a wooden toy house he had brought with them. He passed it to the Night Fury and told the others to cover their eyes. 

Ville could hear Toothless nosing around, making sure that no one was peeking, before the rustling in the bushes began. The Night Fury was very thorough, tromping all around the clearing so they would have no idea where he hid the toy. After what felt like an eternity, Toothless finally gave the all-clear signal and the hunt began.

“Ugh, Toothless always hides things far too well,” Viivi complained after five minutes had passed with no sign of the toy.

“Can you blame him,” Akseli said, his tone clearly conveying that she should have known what she was getting into.

Ignoring the argument brewing between his friends, Ville knelt beside his niece and asked, “Where do you think we should look next, Lissa?”

She pointed to a nearby bush that had not been checked yet and Ville helped her to search. Unfortunately, they had gone in the wrong direction as Marja found the toy on the opposite side of the clearing. Having won, it was her turn to hide the toy next, which was then found by Akseli.

Ville could see that Elisabet was getting frustrated at not being the one to find the toy, and, while he would not generally condone such measures, he glanced at Toothless with one eyebrow raised. The Night Fury was not normally allowed to play after the first round, seeing as he would just sniff the toy out, but he always continued to watch, knowing exactly where the toy could be found. Toothless flicked his eyes toward a particular log and Ville smiled his thanks, gentling guiding his niece that way. “Let’s try over here, Lissa,” he remarked, letting her take the lead in searching.

She squealed upon spotting the little wooden house. “I foun’ it!”

“You sure did,” he acknowledged, scooping her up.

“Good job, Lissa,” Viivi congratulated the little girl. “Now it’s your turn to hide it.”

But Elisabet shook her head and pointed at the Night Fury. “Toofie say.”

Marja’s brow furrowed as she attempted to make sense of what the toddler was saying. “She wants Toothless to hide it,” she inquired skeptically.

“No, it’s another game we’ve started playing,” Ville shared, returning the toy to his dragon’s saddlebags. “Toothless calls out instructions and we have to do what he says.”

“How does that work, since, you know,” Akseli asked, waving his hand vaguely.

“Well, I was hoping she would start to pick up what his sounds meant, but-” Ville trailed off and shrugged.

Viivi shook her head, an amused smile on her face. “Face it, Ville. You’re just different.”

He scrunched up his nose. “Yeah…”

“That’s a good thing, you idiot,” Viivi clarified, smacking his arm.

“Thanks, Viivi,” he grinned. “I was just really hoping that more people would be able to learn.”

“We can recognize some of their sounds,” Marja chimed in.

“Yeah, but just the really obvious ones,” Ville declared. True, it was better than nothing, and the dragons seemed content, but still… “Anyway, sometimes I’ll translate, or he’ll act it out.”

“This I’ve got to see,” Viivi exclaimed. “Show us, Toothless. What do you want us to do?”

The Night Fury grinned and sat back on his haunches, touching his nose with his wing tip. Elisabet, Ville, and his friends copied the dragon by touching their noses and Toothless warbled approvingly. He then had them jump in a circle before he tried to balance on one foot. The only problem was, it was much easier for the children than it was for the Night Fury.

Toothless lost his balance, falling into an undignified heap, resulting in a chorus of laughter. The dragon got the last laugh, though, by making them all stand on their head. He warbled merrily, watching the children continue to fall over as Lissa watched from his side, she apparently being exempt from the torture due to her young age.

Ville couldn’t help but think of his own revenge for later as he fell out of his third attempt. Elisabet was entertained, though, so he would keep on for now, but boy, was Toothless going to get it later.

Chapter Text

With the cold season fast approaching, Viggo was up to his elbows in winter preparations. Everyone had their assignments and was working with a will. While Ryker saw to the maintenance of their buildings and kept tabs on the other work being done, Viggo was holed up at the Archives, going over the records and making sure that their stores would be sufficient.

He was about ready to take a break and see if Heddi had found the last records he needed, when Ville popped in, Toothless on his heels. He could tell his brother was surprised to see him here, especially with all the activity around the village, so he was not shocked when the lad asked, “What are you working on?”

“Just tallying everything up to make sure we will be prepared for winter,” he responded as Heddi came around the far set of shelves.

“Here are the lists you needed,” she said, setting the stack of parchment on her desk which he had been utilizing.

Viggo was quick to grab them and as his eyes swept over the numbers, he began to frown.

“What’s wrong,” Ville queried, stepping closer.

“Our herbs are lower than I would prefer,” Viggo revealed, continuing to look over the records his wife had brought him.

“I had noticed that when I pulled them out,” she remarked. “Perhaps the next trader will have what we need.”

“They might,” Viggo wavered, “but I would rather not wait and take that risk.”

Norell spoke up from where she was returning the accounts books to their shelves. “I can’t guarantee anything, but I can send a message to Ryden and see if he can collect what we need on his way here.”

“That would be appreciated,” Viggo replied. “Thank you, Norell.”

His sister-in-law assured him that it was no problem before hastily scribbling a note and leaving to find Verja. Despite her assistance though, Viggo could not help but feel that they should do something more. They could possibly make it through winter with what they had on hand, but if a bout of sickness swept through the village, they would be hard-pressed. 

His wife must have noticed his furrowed brow as the next thing he knew, her arms were draped around his shoulders. “It will be alright, my love,” she whispered, pecking his cheek.

“I cannot risk the safety and the health of our tribe,” he reasoned. “While I hope Ryden will be able to procure the herbs we need, as Norell said, it is not guaranteed. We need to send a party out to Healer’s Island just in case, but-”

“But everyone is already busy enough with other preparations,” Heddi finished for him.

“Exactly,” he sighed. “I do not know who we could spare.”

“I can go,” Ville piped up from where he had plopped on the floor next to Elisabet.

“I appreciate the offer, Ville, but-”

“Toothless and I could be there and back in one day,” he claimed, abandoning the toy he had been entertaining Elisabet with and coming over to the desk, leaving Rynnätä in charge of the toddler as she had been when he arrived.

Viggo pinched the bridge of his nose. “As I was about to say, you are rather young to embark on such a mission by yourself.”

“I can ask my friends to go with me,” he proposed. “None of them have any responsibilities right now and it would be a way for us to help the tribe,” he said earnestly.

“You are all still too young,” Viggo maintained firmly.

“But Iloa and Sitchen aren’t. Even Heila is almost full grown,” Ville stated, seeming to think that his friend’s dragons would provide adequate supervision.

That was not sufficient for Viggo, though. “I do not like sending you off without a responsible adult.”

“You could always ask Rynnätä to go with them,” Heddi suggested. “It may not be quite the same, but she does have a level head.”

“Please, Viggo,” Vilhehn begged. “We can do it.”

While having his dragon accompany them would ease his mind somewhat, it was not an ideal solution. Unfortunately, it was the only one feasible as every able-bodied hand was needed to prepare the island. “I still do not like this,” he began, noticing a smile creeping across his brother’s face, “but I believe it might be our only option. You must promise to listen to Rynnätä, though, and obey her orders should a dangerous situation arrive,” he stipulated, sternly meeting Ville’s gaze, wanting to make sure he understood just how serious he was.

“I will,” he nodded eagerly. “I promise.”

Reluctantly accepting the inevitable, Viggo turned to his Skrill and said, “Rynnätä, dear, is this acceptable to you?”

She let forth a series of growls and Ville huffed before explaining, “She says she’ll keep us in line.”

Viggo held back a laugh, being of the same mind as Rynnätä that such measures might very well be necessary, knowing his brother. Instead, he settled with saying, “I know she will.”

Norell chose that moment to return, announcing, “I sent the note with Verja. We should hear back in a day or two.” Glancing between Viggo and his brother, she continued, “I couldn’t help but overhear the last part of the conversation. Is Ville going somewhere?”

“To Healer’s Island with his friends,” Viggo shared. “Rynnätä has been so gracious as to agree to supervise them.”

“I can go as well if you would like,” Norell offered. “Most of our trade is done for the season, so Heddi doesn’t need my help with the accounts and the production of the fireproof leather is on hold as everyone focuses on preparing the island for winter, so I’m not needed there either. Unless there is somewhere else you would rather assign me?”

Viggo could feel a weight being lifted off his shoulders. Having the children go was still not ideal, but it would be better than Norell going on her own and would give the children the oversight they needed. “No, that would be perfect,” he said gratefully. “Thank you.”

“If Norell and Skarpur are coming, then that means Rynnätä can stay with you,” Ville noted.

He knew his brother only had his best interests at heart, not wanting to separate him from his dragon, but he still could not help but wonder if there might be a slight ulterior motive. It made no difference, though, as the plans were not changing any further. “I would rather she still accompany you,” he declared. “And what I said before stands. Her word is law.”

Ville rolled his eyes but nodded his agreement.

With half of the matter settled, Viggo told his brother to go and see if his friends were indeed willing to go. “You will have to make an early start tomorrow,” he reminded him, “so be sure to warn them.”

Ville headed for the door, muttering something about overprotective big brothers before calling for Toothless to join him.

Viggo just shook his head at his little brother’s antics and turned to Norell. “Are you sure you are up to wrangling Ville and his friends?”

“I’m not some old fuddy-duddy,” she retorted. “I can definitely keep up with them.” He must not have been hiding his concern enough as she added, “We’ll be fine. Plus, more hands will make the work go quicker.”

“Just be careful out there,” he requested, not wanting anything to happen to his family.

“I know how to take care of myself,” Norell responded as she grabbed her staff and walked out the door of the Archives. Sticking her head back in, she grinned. “And not that I need to remind you, but so does Ville.” The words were hardly out of her mouth before she was gone.

“She’s right you know,” Heddi said quietly, leaning on the desk.

“I do,” Viggo admitted as he stood and wrapped his arms around his wife, burying his head in her shoulder, “but I still worry.”

“Norell is a fierce fighter and so is Ville,” she reassured him. “His friends can hold their own as well and with all the dragons, they will be perfectly safe.”

Viggo raised his head and nodded before looking over at his Skrill friend. “You keep an eye on them for me, Rynnätä.”

The dragon purred, padding over to nuzzle him and leaving little Elisabet to try and catch her tail.

Chapter Text

“There it is,” Ville exclaimed, pointing to the island that had just appeared on the horizon. Three hours was not overly long for him and Toothless to be flying, but when you had to conserve energy and not do any trick flying it wasn’t nearly as fun.

“Good,” Viivi declared from his right. “I’m ready for a break.”

“We’ll land on the shore and have a quick bite,” Norell outlined, “then we need to get to work.”

As the island neared, Marja spoke up. “I know some of the plants we’re supposed to look for, but the others…” She trailed off, a worried look on her face.

“Don’t worry, Marjetta,” Norell reassured her, encouraging Skarpur to fly closer to the brunette and her Hobblegrunt. “I’ll make sure to assign you ones you’re familiar with.”

Being the rational one, Akseli asked, “What about the ones none of us know?”

“I have a suspicion that won’t apply to Ville,” Viivi chimed in, shooting him a sly look.

“Well, I did ask Heddi to help me find a botany book last night, so I could familiarize myself with what we needed,” Ville admitted, thinking it had been the logical thing to do since he didn’t want to fail his family or his tribe.

Viivi rolled her eyes at his response. “Of course you did.”

“So, whatever the three of you don’t know, Ville and I will split between us,” Norell announced as they came in to land. “Looks like my years of trading will come in handy. After all, you have to know your product.”

As everyone dismounted, Marja said, “But your brother’s ship is so big! How did you ever remember everything?”

Norell smiled. “Well, it took a lot of practice, but-”

She broke off as everyone’s attention was drawn to Marja’s Hobblegrunt, who had abruptly begun to freak out, knocking her friend over in the process. Ville rushed over to try to calm the agitated dragon while he could hear his sister-in-law checking to make sure Marja was okay. 

“Yeah,” she replied shakily. “I don’t know what got into Iloa to make her act like that.”

Assured that his friend was fine, Ville’s focus turned to the Hobblegrunt who was slowly but surely responding to his comforting noises. Iloa was generally a very calm and quiet dragon, so for her to react like this, there had to be something wrong. “Are you alright,” he asked softly.

“Bad news, bad news,” she chittered. She was clearly still rattled as, though she was never one to use more words than necessary, she generally spoke in complete sentences.

“What is it,” Ville pressed gently, trying to exude a calmness he was hoping she would pick up on.

“Bad storm,” she revealed, shaking her head back and forth. “Coming soon, too soon. Need shelter.”

He reassured her before turning to the others and explaining what she said.

“Are you sure,” Akseli inquired. “I mean, the skies look really clear.”

Ville could understand where his friend was coming from, but he had no doubt that Iloa was correct. “Hobblegrunts are very good at detecting this kind of thing,” he stated. “I think we should trust her.”

“I agree with Iloa,” Rynnätä concurred. “Even I can feel that the air is becoming unsettled. We need to find shelter and wait it out.”

He interpreted for the Skrill before pulling out his journal and saying, “I’ll send Sharpshot back with a message to let Viggo know we’re safe, but delayed. We should try to collect as many herbs as we can before the storm hits, though.”

“While I applaud your determination Ville, it would be best if we focused on finding shelter first,” Norell remarked. “The herbs can wait. Our safety is more important.”

“More important than the health of our tribe,” he countered, tying the note onto Sharpshot’s leg and watching as the Terror took off for Tulva. He shook his head and stubbornly continued, “Iloa says the storm is really bad. If we don’t collect the herbs now, they may not be fit to collect after. We should make the best use of our time here while the weather holds.”

Norell stared at him, her brow furrowed as she thought over his words. He could tell that she agreed with his reasoning, but she was still concerned about their safety. Eventually, she said, “If we set out now, without resting, and Rynnätä is willing to search for shelter, we can try to collect as much as possible, but we need some kind of signal to alert us when and where to take shelter.”

Their dragons discussed this amongst themselves and came up with a solution which Ville shared with the others. “Iloa said she can send a blast into the sky when the storm is almost upon us and Rynn can do the same afterward to alert us to her location and where we’ll be sheltering.”

Norell nodded slowly. “Okay. I suppose that will do, but you all have to promise not to dawdle once the signals are given,” she stipulated, looking intensely at each of them, though Ville felt like her gaze lingered on him for the longest.

They all agreed to the plan and Norell was quick to divvy up the list, giving Marja, Viivi, and Akseli two or three items each to collect, while she and Ville had slightly longer lists.

Before he could leave, though, she caught his arm, reminding him, “Ville, just do your best and keep your eyes open for Iloa’s warning. Stay safe.”

“I will,” he promised, jumping onto Toothless’ back.

The two of them flew all over the island, rushing to collect as much as they could. They were almost done when the signals went off, Ville glancing up in time to see the tail end of Iloa’s fire and then waiting to catch sight of Rynnätä’s lightning blast. She wasn’t too far from them. It would take less than a minute to get there and he only had one more item on his list. He knew he had agreed to head in as soon as the signals were given, but…

Firming his decision, he mounted his best friend and said, “Come on, Toothless. All we have left is the yarrow. We can get it and then meet with the others.”

Toothless pawed nervously at the ground. “But Ville, aren’t we supposed to-”

“We’ll be quick,” he cut in. “I think I saw some on the cliffs near here. It won’t take but a minute to collect it. I promise.”

The Night Fury made his misgivings known as they headed for the cliffs, making sure that Ville knew he would not be taking any of the blame if they got in trouble.

Ville rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll be fine.”

Of course, the cliffs hadn’t been quite as close as he had remembered, and though the yarrow was indeed there, it was impossible to reach it from Toothless’ back.

“Take us down, bud,” he requested. “I’m going to have to climb.”

“Are you sure this is safe,” Toothless pressed, reluctantly landing as the first raindrops began to fall.

“I’ll be fine,” he maintained, his gaze sweeping over the cliff face to look for the best handholds.

The Night Fury was not convinced though and whined pitifully. “I don’t want you falling again.”

He turned to look at his friend, lovingly stroking his head. “That was four years ago, Toothless. I’ve had plenty of practice since then,” he reasoned. “I’ll be back before you even know it.”

Ville grabbed his last empty satchel and swung it over his shoulder before beginning his climb. At this point, the rain was still relatively light and he had no trouble ascending the cliff, even finding a few convenient ledges he could stand on while he harvested the yarrow. Once the satchel was full, he tossed it down to Toothless, not wanting the slight weight to distract or unbalance him as he made his way down, especially as the drizzle had turned into a downpour and the cliff was becoming increasingly slick.

He did his best to make sure his grip was secure, but he knew the others were probably worried about where he could be, especially Norell, so he tried to pick up the pace. He was almost halfway down when his hand slipped and, though he tried to find another handhold, it was too late as he was already falling. He felt a brief flash of guilt for not listening to Toothless’ warning before everything went black.

Chapter Text

Norell watched the downpour from just inside the mouth of the cave Rynnätä had found wondering where in the world Ville could be. She realized she probably should not have let him go off on his own, but he had promised to meet them at the dragons’ warnings and she wanted to believe he meant it. Her first thought was that he had somehow been hurt, but then again, this was Ville. He had the bad habit of getting caught up in whatever he was working on, and it was entirely possible that was what had happened. She tried to remain calm, but her nerves were being stretched to their limit.

Walking back into the cave, she asked the other children, “Did any of you see Ville or Toothless on your way back in?”

They all replied in the negative, leaving Norell even more worried, though what Viivi said next echoed her previous thoughts.

“You know Ville,” the girl said, tossing one of her black braids over her shoulder. “He’s probably just trying to finish his list.”

“That was not the deal,” Norell pointed out.

“Yeah, well…” Viivi trailed off and shrugged, making it clear that was what she thought to have happened.

Norell tried to keep that thought in the front of her mind, but for some reason, she had the feeling things were not as simple as that.

“Would you like Sitchen to go look for them,” Akseli inquired, his Nadder friend looking at her earnestly.

She shook her head. “I am not letting you go out in that,” she declared adamantly.

“I wasn’t going to,” Akseli replied. “Sitchen can go on his own or you could go with him,” he offered, the Nadder bobbing his head in agreement.

It was tempting, it really was, but with the way Toothless and Ville were all over the island, it might be hard to pick up the right trail, not to mention the fact that with all the rain, it was debatable how much of their scent trail even remained. Deciding to hope that all was well, she said, “Let’s give Ville another minute or two, but if he’s not back by then-”

She broke off as a roar echoed in the distance. But it was not just any roar. It was Toothless’ and it did not sound good. All the dragons were instantly on alert and rushed to the cave entrance, letting out roars of their own, with Toothless quickly responding.

Norell was not about to sit back and wait when something was so clearly wrong. She jumped onto Skarspur’s back, but the Razorwhip refused to move, simply staring out into the distance as if waiting for something.

Frustrated beyond measure, Norell moved to Rynnätä only to encounter the same problem, a stubborn dragon who refused to move.

“Maybe they’re waiting for something,” Akseli suggested, coming up behind her and stroking Sitchen’s side.

“But what,” Norell practically shrieked. She would head out on her own, but the odds of her finding Ville without a dragon’s help were incredibly low.

“Look,” Viivi cried, pointing toward an approaching shape.

Norell was relieved to notice it looked an awful lot like Toothless, though the shape was a little off, as if Toothless were carrying something…or rather someone.

She rushed out of the cave to meet the Night Fury, who dropped her young brother-in-law in her arms before landing and shepherding her back into the shelter of the cave. Norell pushed Ville’s hair out of his face, concerned by his lack of response. “Toothless, what happened?”

The Night Fury dropped the satchel he had been carrying in his mouth and nudged it toward her.

“He was trying to finish his list,” Norell supplied, trying to hold back a sigh.

Toothless crooned sorrowfully and pushed her toward the fire, his concern for her and his rider apparent.

“I’m sure you did your best,” she soothed the Night Fury as she laid Ville next to the fire and began checking him over. She was no healer, but at least she could tell there were no broken bones, though Ville did have a nasty bump near his temple. At least it wasn’t bleeding, but then again, maybe that was just because most of the blood had been washed away in the rain.

“Is he going to be okay,” Marjetta whispered anxiously.

“I’m sure he will,” Norell responded, trying to instill a confidence in the children that she was struggling to feel herself.

Thankfully, at that moment, Ville began to stir, his eyes flickering open as a wave of relief washed over her. He tried to sit up, but Norell gently laid a hand on his shoulder, keeping him down until she had a better grasp on his injuries.

“Ville, are you okay,” she queried.

“Hmm,” he looked up at her through squinted eyes, the light of the fire seeming to bother him.

Norell scooted so she was blocking most of the light and raised Ville up just enough to lay his head on her lap, though the movement caused him to wince in pain.

“What happened,” he murmured.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “Toothless carried you back to the cave unconscious.”

His brow furrowed as he tried to recall what occurred. “I- I was getting the yarrow,” he said slowly, “and then…I don’t remember.”

His Night Fury friend warbled softly, laying his lead on Ville’s lap.

“Toothless says I slipped and fell off the cliff,” he shared. “He tried to catch me, but I was so close to the cliff and it happened too fast. He was only able to partially break my fall.”

“Does anything hurt,” Norell pressed.

There was a pause before Ville said, “Everything to some extent, but I don’t think it’s anything serious. It doesn’t hurt that bad.” He gingerly reached a hand up to his head and added, “My head is killing me, though.”

Norell caught his hand before he could touch his injury and informed him, “You’ve got a pretty nasty bump there.”

Ville hummed absentmindedly in response, stroking Toothless’ head, though whether it was to soothe himself or his dragon, Norell was not sure.

“It’s okay, bud,” he murmured. “It was my own fault and you did your best.”

Toothless warbled something back and Ville told her, “He says in trying to catch me, my head might have hit the cliffside.” Turning his attention back to the Night Fury, he attempted to speak the dragons’ tongue, but apparently speaking the unique language with a head injury was not a good idea. Ville squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before asking, “Did you bring the yarrow with us?”

The Night Fury huffed in his face, clearly feeling there were more pressing things to worry about, a sentiment with which Norell could agree. It was clearly important to Ville, though, so she told him that it was here and he seemed to relax a bit at hearing that information.

She didn’t want to worry the other children, but she was becoming increasingly concerned over her brother-in-law’s symptoms. She may not know much about healing, but there was one thing she needed to check. “Ville, could you please look at me?”

Norell could tell it took him a lot of effort, but he finally opened his eyes all the way and it was as she had feared. Ville’s pupils seemed exceptionally large, confirming the fact that he most likely had a concussion. She wished there was something she could do to make him more comfortable, but her resources were limited. 

She wished she had managed to collect the willow bark, but she had left it for last, knowing it was one of the few herbs that would weather the storm. As for the other herbs they collected, she was sure there must be something that could help, but she did not know what it was.

She began to slowly run her hands through Ville’s hair, something that he seemed to take comfort in. Toothless nudged his friend again, still looking quite worried, but unlike the rest of them, Ville apparently had no concerns, mumbling a soft, “I‘m fine, bud,” before drifting off to sleep.

Chapter Text

Viggo was in the middle of assisting with the preparations for winter when he spotted a familiar Terrible Terror flying toward him. He held out his arm, allowing the green and brown dragon to settle there before speaking. “Sharpshot, what are you doing here?”

The little dragon held out a leg and glanced at it, only to squawk in shock as he looked around for the note he had presumably lost. Ville must have sent a message but not tied it on tight enough so that it fell off during the journey. It happened occasionally, but that led Viggo to wonder, what would require Ville to send a message? Given his misgivings about sending Vilhehn on this mission, his mind immediately ran to worst-case scenarios.

He was pulled from his thoughts, by Ryker's hand landing heavily on his shoulder. Glancing over, he noticed the concern on his brother’s face. “You alright,” Ryker inquired.

Viggo’s brow furrowed as he continued to think things through, giving his brother the bare bones of the matter. “Sharpshot. No note. Lost on the journey.”

Ryker turned to the small dragon and asked, “Is everything okay with Ville and the others?”

The Terror tilted his head, his tongue darting out to lick one of his eyeballs, but other than that, there was no reaction.

Ryker grunted. “Must be more complicated than that.”

“They encountered troubles, but nothing serious,” Viggo proposed, the Terror tilting his head again before slowly nodding. While relieved that they were not in imminent peril, not knowing what troubles they encountered was going to drive Viggo out of his mind. “I have to go and check on them,” he declared, turning toward home as he was intent on setting out immediately. 

“And how are you planning on doing that,” Ryker queried, quirking an eyebrow as he fell into step beside him. “Rynnätä is with them.”

“I am sure Heddi would let me take Sulka,” he responded.

“Or you could hop on with me,” Ryker offered.

Viggo stopped short and stared at his brother. “But I thought-”

“My wife is out there too,” Ryker cut in brusquely. “I can go and check on them by myself or you can come with me. Up to you.”

“Everything is well enough in hand,” he replied, nodding sharply. “I can be spared.”

While Ryker got Kuori ready for the trip, Viggo went to inform Heddi of what had happened and to leave her in charge while they were gone. Hopefully, they would be back later that night, but if they got delayed, Grandfather promised to lend her a hand and offer advice if needed.

Soon enough, they were in the air, though the wind did nothing to clear Viggo’s swirling thoughts from his mind.

“Would you quit it,” Ryker grumbled when they were about half an hour into their trip, sounding remarkably like his dragon.

Viggo’s brow furrowed as he had no idea what his brother was referring to. “Quit what?”

“Blaming yourself,” his brother said bluntly. “Your thoughts are far too loud.”

He shook his head, saying, “This is all my fault. I should never-”

“Would you stop that,” Ryker snapped. “You’re not even sure what happened.”

“I realize that, but here we are. Heading out,” Viggo reasoned, shaking his head self-deprecatingly. “If I had just gone to collect the herbs myself, then none of this would have happened.”

“Though I agree that we should check on them, just in case, take a lesson from Sharpshot,” his brother suggested, gesturing to the Terrible Terror who was snoozing just in front of Kuori’s saddle. “He’s not panicking, so whatever issues they encountered cannot be that bad.”

Viggo took a deep breath, attempting to settle his nerves. “You are right,” he admitted reluctantly. “I know that, but if anything has happened to them…”

“Don’t borrow trouble,” Ryker reminded him firmly.

He nodded in agreement and tried to keep his thoughts from straying to what might have happened. The next hour and a half were spent in silence until they came upon a fierce, slow-moving storm.

“Do you think this was what the note was about,” Ryker inquired.

“It seems most likely,” Viggo answered, calling out to the Terrible Terror who had since settled into one of Kuori’s saddlebags. “Sharpshot, were they going to be delayed because of the storm?”

The little dragon bobbed his head before withdrawing back into the warmth and comfort of his temporary shelter.

Viggo let out a breath of relief, one which did not go unnoticed.

“Better now,” Ryker asked drily.

“Yes,” he confessed, “but seeing as we are almost there, we may as well check in and help them finish up.”

Ryker nodded his agreement, and Kuori put on a burst of speed, apparently determined to get them there and through this storm as quickly as possible.

By the time they arrived at Healer’s Island, the worst of the storm had passed over. Kuori let out a roar and soon received a response. Adjusting his flight pattern, they soon landed outside of a cave where Viggo could see the collection party’s dragons taking shelter. As they entered, the dragons parted to reveal their human friends.

Of course, the first thing Viggo laid eyes on was his brother lying with his head in Norell’s lap and the calm that he had finally accomplished flew out the window as he rushed over. “What happened?”

Norell looked up in shock, before encouraging them to keep their voices low, nodding toward the sleeping children on the other side of the fire. “What are you doing here,” she demanded softly. “Didn’t you get Ville’s note?”

“It got lost,” Ryker responded, sitting beside his wife and wrapping one arm around her waist. “So when Sharpshot showed up, we figured we’d best come and check on you.”

Viggo nodded numbly and knelt by his family. Rynnätä had crept over and begun nuzzling him, resulting in him distractedly stroking her flank as he asked Norell once again, “What happened?”

She sighed and began to explain. “Iloa warned us of an approaching storm when we arrived. We used what time we had to collect most of the herbs and made it back here before the rain started.” She paused and glanced down at Ville. “Well, most of us did.”

“He kept going,” Viggo prompted, his supposition proven true by Toothless' mournful croon.

“Yes,” Norell confirmed, giving the worried Night Fury a quick scratch. “Toothless brought him back unconscious, though he came to shortly after. He didn’t remember what happened and we had to rely on Toothless’ version of events, but Ville was pretty out of it. I think he has a concussion,” she revealed, running her fingers through the boy’s hair. “I encouraged him to rest and when the storm showed no signs of letting up, I told the other children to get some sleep if they could. I didn’t want to stay any longer than we had to, especially with Ville’s injury, and figured they would need the rest if we had to fly back overnight.”

Ville chose that moment to wake up, though as Norell had said, he seemed rather out of it as he squinted up at them. “Viggo? I- Where am I?”

“We’re still on Healer’s Island,” Norell supplied. “They came to check on us.”

“Why? We’re fine,” Ville stated, resulting in Norell rolling her eyes.

“According to Norell and Toothless you are not fine,” Viggo countered, watching his younger brother carefully.

Ville was quiet for a moment before realization hit. “Oh yeah, I fell.”

“And hit your head pretty hard,” Norell added, looking at him meaningfully.

“We’re taking you to the healer as soon as we return to Tulva,” Ryker added firmly.

Ville nodded slowly, as he murmured what sounded like an agreement, causing the brothers and Norell to exchange worried glances. Ville was never one to easily agree that he was injured or that he needed to see a healer. For him to be so complacent left them all rather worried.

Chapter Text

They decided to wait a few hours before heading back home, wanting to allow the dragons an opportunity to rest while also giving the storm a chance to move on so that they would not be passing through it on their way back to Tulva. Once the rain stopped, Ryker went back out with Norell to collect the last two items on her list, hardy herbs that they did not need much light to find or harvest, which was good as the sun had just set. Thankfully, the light provided by their dragons proved sufficient.

With bulging satchels, the small group set off for home, with Ville riding on Rynnätä in front of Viggo. It was not that he did not trust Toothless, but Ville was still rather out of it. It was not safe for his younger brother to ride by himself, a decision that was further cemented when he became nauseous and spent a good portion of the trip hanging off of Rynnätä’s saddle, emptying the contents of his stomach into the ocean.

Upon arriving home and heading straight to the healer’s, it was confirmed that Ville did indeed have a concussion. He was put on bed rest for the next two days and was surprisingly compliant about the whole thing, which worried Viggo. Of course, that worry was short-lived as by the second day, his younger brother was becoming restless. Keeping him occupied was a challenge as Ville’s head still hurt and he was denied his journal or other books. Even Maces and Talons was out of the question as it required too much concentration and his mind needed to rest. Elisabet managed to keep him occupied for a bit, but the toddler was not the most restful, so eventually, Grandfather stepped in, reading out loud to them both.

Even after the bed rest was lifted, Ville still had to take it easy, which he was not pleased with. The whole family kept a close eye on him and at the slightest hint of him showing pain, real or imagined, whatever he was doing was confiscated and he was sent to rest. By the end of the week, Viggo could see how much his youngest brother was chaffing at everyone’s hovering. After being cleared by the healer and allowed to resume most of his normal activities, Ville jumped onto Toothless and took off for a flight, though as Viggo watched, he noticed that the Night Fury refused to do any of his wilder moves.

While Viggo was willing to allow his brother this brief reprieve from being stuck in the house, it did not mean that his disobeying orders was going to be without consequences, something which he determined to talk about with Ville as soon as he landed. Unfortunately, he was not able to follow through as planned as his help was needed elsewhere, resulting in him putting off their discussion until later that night.

Once dinner was over, Ville disappeared up to his room and Viggo took the opportunity to follow him. He knocked on the doorway, getting the lad’s attention. “Vilhehn, we need to speak.”

“About what,” his brother asked curiously, looking up from whatever project he was working on at his desk.

“About what happened on Healer’s Island,” Viggo responded, pulling a stool over and taking a seat.

Ville’s eyes dropped to his lap. “I’m sorry, but I still don’t remember much about what-”

“Not your injury,” Viggo clarified, “though that is enough cause for concern. No, we need to speak about your disobeying orders.” His stern gaze caused his brother to squirm as he continued. “What you did was very dangerous. Do you understand that?”

Ville nodded reluctantly, still not meeting his eyes.

“I am disappointed in you, Vilhehn,” he admitted, hoping to reach the boy. “You promised to listen to Rynnätä and obey her orders, yet you did not head to shelter when the signal was given, despite the fact that Iloa had warned you how bad the storm would be.”

“It wasn’t exactly the storm that-”

Viggo raised one eyebrow at his brother’s attempt to make excuses and spoke over him. “I do not recall asking for your opinion.”

Ville seemed to shrink into himself as he muttered an apology.

Picking up where he left off, Viggo went on to say, “You also went back on your promise to Norell. How do you think she felt when Toothless brought you back unconscious?” His brother cringed, but remained quiet, prompting Viggo to demand, “Now, what do you have to say for yourself?”

“I just wanted to finish my list,” Ville explained softly. “I didn’t want to let you or the tribe down.”

Viggo knew his brother took his responsibilities seriously, but there was one issue that he seemed to be overlooking. “At risk to your own life?! You do realize that there could have been far worse ramifications, do you not?”

“Yes,” Ville mumbled before finally raising his gaze to meet Viggo’s. “I messed up,” he confessed. “I know that. Toothless tried to warn me and I didn’t listen. I disobeyed orders and I got hurt. I’m sorry,” he apologized earnestly. “I really am.”

Viggo stared at Ville for a moment, gauging his brother’s sincerity. “I do believe you are,” he conceded, noting the look of relief that flashed across Ville’s face, though it did not last long, as he added, “but that does not mean you are not going to be punished.”

“Wasn’t the last week punishment enough,” Ville reasoned.

“The last week was the result of your rash actions and not a punishment,” Viggo stated firmly, holding his brother’s gaze. “I know you are sorry for what you did, but you have to understand that disobeying orders can have far greater consequences than suffering through an injury. I have been quite lenient up until now as I know you generally mean well, but this was more than skirting an order. You defied it,” he stressed, wanting Ville to understand how serious this was. “Therefore, you will be confined to the house for the next week…and I will be confiscating your journal.”

“But, Viggo-”

He held up a hand, effectively halting Vilhehn’s plea. “In addition, you are not allowed to touch any books without permission from me or Heddi. Catching sight of the absolutely miserable expression on his brother’s face, he said, “I know this is hard, Ville, but it is for your own good. I hope you will learn a valuable lesson from this.”

The preteen nodded his head morosely and handed over his journal, staring at it longingly.

Viggo could tell that the following week was not easy for Ville, but he had to admit, he was quite proud of how the young boy handled it. He asked for chores and did what he could around the house to make things easier for them, helping with meals and even volunteering to wash the dishes every day. He watched Elisabet most days and kept her entertained, not even asking for a book to read, clearly taking his restrictions quite seriously. After a few days thus occupied, Viggo presented him with a tome about farming and caring for livestock. It was not a subject Ville would have chosen for himself, but the information was good to know. Left with little else to do, Viggo noticed that his brother devoured it, and taking pity on him, he selected another book, though this time he chose one that would be a little more to Ville’s liking.

Chapter Text

Ville clambered down the stairs for breakfast, Toothless on his heels, and noticed that most of his family was already at the table. Sitting down, he asked, “Did Grandfather leave already?”

“Not that I am aware of,” Viggo responded, bouncing Elisabet in his lap. “I do believe he is still in his room.”

“Should I…?” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely toward the stairs.

“No, give him until after breakfast,” Heddi suggested, setting a bowl of porridge in front of him. “He may not have had a good night.”

Ville nodded understandingly as he picked up his spoon. “That has been happening more lately.”

“Just something that comes with age,” Heddi said, ruffling his hair. “Now, eat up before it gets cold.”

He smiled and dug in, his breakfast warming him from the inside out, something that was most definitely appreciated as the weather had taken a turn. Plans for the day were discussed as they ate, but through it all, Grandfather failed to appear.

After setting his dishes in the basin, Ville offered to check on the Grimborn patriarch. “Should I see if he wants something brought up to him?”

“Thank you, Ville,” Heddi replied as she collected the rest of the dishes. “That would be appreciated.”

He made his way up the stairs, trying not to make too much noise just in case his Grandfather was not feeling well, and knocked on the door. When there was no response, he cracked the door open and popped his head in. “Grandfather, are you awake? Heddi wanted to know if she should bring something up…”

Still nothing, which Ville found quite concerning as the elderly man was not a heavy sleeper. Creeping closer, he noticed that his grandfather was incredibly pale. Could he be sick? Should he get Heddi or Viggo? Or maybe he should find out what the problem was first? That did seem like the most logical course of action. After all, he was already here.

“Grandfather,” he said softly, reaching out to gently shake the man’s shoulder, but upon touching him, he froze. His grandfather was as cold as ice.

Realization slowly swept over him, but he refused to believe it. “No,” he murmured. “No! Grandfather!” He shook the older man again, illogically thinking that if he just tried hard enough, he could wake him up.

The next thing he knew, he felt arms pulling him away and encircling him, though he fought to get free, frantically exclaiming, “No! No, it can’t- He can’t be- He can’t…”

Unable to deny the truth any longer, he began bawling, the arms around him holding him tighter as soothing words were whispered in his ear. Eventually, he recognized the voice as Heddi’s and he tried his best to focus on her words, letting her ground him and help him to calm down. He wasn’t sure how long he spent crying in her arms, but by the time he pulled back, still blinking away tears, Grandfather was already gone.

He glanced around, thoroughly confused. “Where…?”

“Viggo and Ryker have taken him to prepare for the funeral,” Heddi told him, tenderly brushing his hair out of his face. “I’m so sorry you had to be the one to find him, Ville.”

“I-” Ville broke off and looked down, feeling more than a little lost. “Me, too,” he whispered, only to be pulled back into Heddi’s embrace. He took a deep breath and drew from his sister’s strength, knowing he was going to need it.

They launched the funeral ship at sunset after Viggo gave a speech honoring their grandfather and the Stormheart’s former chief. Ville managed to keep his emotions in check, though it was a near-run thing when his brother’s voice cracked near the end of the speech. The flaming arrows launched in unison were a sight to see, though a bittersweet one. Ville was just glad that Ryker had insisted on him practicing his archery this past year as it allowed him to be part of the tradition of seeing his Grandfather off.

They watched until the ship was nothing more than a speck on the horizon before the assembled crowds made their way to the Great Hall where a feast had been prepared to celebrate Grandfather’s life and remember him. While Ville found some comfort in listening to the stories of things his grandfather had done, he still felt hollow inside.

After staying what he deemed to be an appropriate amount of time, he approached Heddi and quietly inquired, “Is it okay if I go home?”

She looked at him in concern and asked how he was feeling.

“I’m okay,” he hedged. “Just tired.”

“It has been a long day,” Heddi commiserated. Glancing over at Viggo, she said, “Give me just a moment and-”

“I’ll be fine, Heddi,” he cut in. “You don’t have to leave on my account.”

Her brow furrowed as her gaze returned to him. “Are you sure?”

He nodded, desperately wanting to be alone and away from everyone.

“Okay,” she hesitantly agreed, pulling him in for a hug. “I’ll see you back at the house then.”

“Would you like me to take Lissa with me,” he offered, nodding to the toddler who was curled up in the seat next to his sister, sound asleep.

“It is past her bedtime,” Heddi wavered. “If you’re sure?”

“Of course,” he agreed, giving her half a smile before scooping up his niece and beginning the trek back home. It wasn’t that far, but the weight of the day was hanging heavy on Ville’s shoulders, causing him to move much slower than normal.

Arriving back at his family’s hut, he got Elisabet tucked into bed, before heading to his room. Sitting on the edge of his bed, reality seemed to crash down on him and he couldn’t hold back the sob that escaped his throat.

Toothless was at his side in a second and he threw his arms around the Night Fury’s neck.

“Oh, Toothless,” he murmured. “It just doesn’t seem real, Grandfather can’t be gone.”

“He’ll never be completely gone,” Toothless reasoned. “He’s still here,” he declared, lightly tapping Ville’s forehead with his snout.

That sent Vilhehn over the edge and, as he cried his eyes out, Toothless pulled him into his wings, rumbling softly in an attempt to comfort him. It helped some, but it wasn’t the same as having Grandfather back with them.

Ville was still sniveling when Toothless cracked his wings open. He blinked a few times, surprised to see his brother kneeling next to them.

“Oh, Ville…” Viggo reached out and pulled him from the Night Fury’s wings, sitting him on the bed and settling himself next to him. He wrapped an arm around Ville and reassured him that everything would be alright.

“How can you say that,” he exclaimed forlornly.

“Because it is true,” was his soft response. “As much as it is hard to believe, life goes on and it is up to us to live in a way that would make our loved ones proud. How do you think Grandfather would feel if he saw you now?”

Ville felt one corner of his mouth tilt upwards. “He’d probably tell me to buck up.”

“Exactly,” Viggo confirmed, squeezing his shoulders. “He would want you to be happy.”

It made sense, but Ville didn’t know if he had it in him. He looked up at his brother and asked, “How are you not sad?”

“I am, Ville,” he confided, smiling sorrowfully. “I miss our grandfather dearly, but this is also not my first time losing someone I love. I know what to expect and I know things will get better in time. I also know that I have the rest of my family here with me and for that, I am very grateful.” He paused before saying, “This is the first time you have lost someone, is it not?”

“I guess,” he faltered. “I mean, my mom died, but I was just a baby, so I never really knew her…”

“It is never easy, Ville,” his brother confessed, “but we are all here for you, alright?”

Ville nodded and wrapped his arms around Viggo, taking comfort in his brother’s words and presence.

Chapter Text

Ryden returned to Tulva two months into the winter season. He had come to like it here and it helped that this was where his sister had made her home. Of course, things at the Grimborn’s were rather quiet as the family was still grieving the loss of their grandfather. He noticed that even the dragons seemed to be more subdued than normal, particularly the old man’s Nightmare. He could sympathize with what they were going through and did his best not to be a burden. This may not be his home, but after spending two winters here, going on a third, he had come to feel comfortable and helped out where he could.

There was one afternoon shortly after he arrived that he took pity on the grieving dragon in particular. There was a rare break between storms, and everyone was out and about, seeing to their duties, leaving just him and Rikki at the house.

Approaching the Monstrous Nightmare slowly, he said, “It’s not easy, is it?” When the dragon looked up at him curiously, he clarified his statement, saying, “Losing someone you love.”

The Nightmare huffed, laying his head back down and staring into the fire mournfully.

Ryden sat down on a nearby chair and, even though he felt a bit like a fool for talking to a dragon like this, he continued. “Our parents died when Norell and I were teenagers. It was…” He paused, trying to think of the right way to describe it, finally settling with, “It was a difficult time.” He smiled half-heartedly at the dragon and held out his hand, offering Rikki the option of whether he wanted to be comforted or not. To his surprise, the Nightmare nuzzled his hand, and he reassured the dragon that though it was tough, he would get through it and come out stronger for the experience.

After that discussion, if you could even call it that, the dragon took to following him around. He didn’t mind, and it seemed to be helping the Nightmare to heal, so he allowed it, not thinking anything of it.

The next few weeks passed by swiftly, with Ryden helping where he could in the village when the weather was nice and spending time with his sister and her husband’s family when it wasn’t. Today, though, Ville had asked him to stop by the forge. Why, Ryden had no idea, but he figured he would soon find out.

Entering the building, he greeted the master blacksmith before heading over to the corner of the forge that Vilhehn had claimed for his own.

“What are you working on there,” he asked, causing the young man to jump ever so slightly.

“Oh! Hi Ryden,” Ville grinned. “I had this idea for a shield that I wanted to try out.”

“A shield,” he inquired skeptically, not really seeing the point. “There’s only so much you can-”

He cut himself off as Ville picked up the shield and it suddenly split open into a crossbow, with the lad firing off an arrow into the wall in one smooth motion.

“I stand corrected,” he observed wryly, amazed at what he had just seen. His brother by marriage truly was a genius.

“It also has a grappling hook,” Vilhehn shared, popping off the center hub to illustrate. “And I was thinking of seeing if there was a way I could add a bola launcher as well.”

Even without the extra ability, the shield was quite impressive, and Ryden did not shy away from telling the lad that.

“Thanks,” he beamed, giving the shield a quick polish. “I’m just glad the crossbow finally works. It took forever to work out all the bugs. Now, where did I… oh, there it is,” he declared, reaching for something tucked behind a partition. “This is for you,” he proclaimed, passing Ryden a deep blue Dragon Iron axe, complete with detailed engraving, much like his sister’s staff and the front of the shield Ville had just been working on. “I would have had it done sooner,” Ville explained, “but with all the storms, I haven’t had too many opportunities to come out here.”

This was without a doubt not what Ryden had been expecting when Ville asked him to stop by the forge. Wanting to understand what he had done to deserve such a unique weapon, he said, “Not that I don’t appreciate your gift, it’s a magnificent piece of work, but I thought only Stormhearts were allowed to wield this type of weapon?” He nodded toward the axe, running his hand over the blue Dragon Iron.

Ville shrugged. “Well, I mean, you kind of are…a Stormheart, I mean.”

“My sister is,” Ryden conceded, “but that doesn’t mean-”

“You befriended Rikki,” Ville chimed in, as if that was the answer to everything.

“Well, it was the only decent thing to do,” Ryden claimed. “The dragon needed something to cheer him up.”

“He’s much happier now,” Ville agreed with a twinkle in his eye. “Does that mean you’ll be staying here now, or will Rikki go with you?”

Ryden’s brow furrowed as he felt like they were discussing two different things. “What are you talking about, Ville?”

“Rikki,” the boy stated simply. “You’ve bonded.”

That caught him off guard. “But I was just…” He trailed off, thinking he had only meant to offer some comfort, not forge a connection.

“It would be horrible for him to be rejected after having just lost his first human friend,” Ville reasoned, looking at him soulfully.

And now Ryden understood what his sister meant about everyone having a hard time saying no to Vilhehn. “I- I suppose it would.”

“Good,” the lad declared. “So, are you staying, then?”

“I don’t know yet, Ville,” he admitted. “This has caught me rather unawares.”

Vilhehn rolled his eyes. “It really shouldn’t have, considering how much Rikki was following you around.”

Ryden bit back a chuckle, replying, “As I am not as familiar with the majestic beasts, I hope you will cut me some slack.”

“I guess so,” Ville drawled, “but you’ll have to learn about them at least a little bit now, for Rikki’s sake.”

“I suppose you are right.”

And so the rest of the cold season was spent with Ryden learning more about the dragons and strengthening his bond with Rikki, as well as coming to an agreement with Viggo to allow him to stay and support the Stormheart tribe.

Due to his experience, he was put in charge of overseeing Tulva’s burgeoning trade, giving the Chief one less thing to worry about. Ryden was quite skilled at keeping on top of the inventory and making sure that the cold season was as productive as could be. During the warmer months, he would transport their goods to markets, promoting them to a variety of sellers and helping them to turn an even larger profit than before, putting Tulva on the map for the finest dragon-related products available. 

While it was true that he had not liked the thought of being tied down, Ryden found that this new way of life suited him. He still traveled a fair amount and was able to sell his wares, something he had come to love over the years, but he also had more time to spend with his sister and a place to truly call home, not to mention a dragon companion who seemed to make life fuller. He found that he could not regret any of that.

Chapter Text

“Come on, Toothless!”

Ville was halfway out the door before he realized there was a distinct lack of Night Fury behind him. Looking back inside, he saw his friend staring at him grumpily.

“Do we have to,” Toothless muttered.

“I thought you would be the first one to want to get out of our nest and away from Niko’s incessant crying,” Ville reasoned, just as his little nephew let out another ear-piercing cry.

“Well, when you put it like that…” Toothless ran to the door, knocking him out of the way. “I suppose it’s the lesser of two evils,” the dragon admitted as they walked through the village. “How come you can’t make him stop like you did with Lissa?”

“I don’t know,” Ville shrugged. “I guess every human hatchling is different just like every dragon is different,” which led him to wonder what Ryker and Norell’s child would be like, though there were still a few more months until he would find that out.

“Ugh, do you have to start the lessons early,” Toothless complained. “It’s bad enough I have to listen to Tavara, but I don’t need to hear it from you, too.”

“I think the lessons are interesting,” he countered, glad that the Titan Wing Timberjack allowed him to sit in. “It’s not my fault you don’t like them.”

“But why do we have to have them,” Toothless whined.

“Because you didn’t have your parents to teach you this stuff,” Vilhehn pointed out. “As Tavara said, they are things every dragon should know.”

Toothless huffed in his face. “Then why do you go?”

“Because it’s fun,” he maintained. “Unlike you, I actually like learning, and learning about dragons is even better.”

The Night Fury rolled his eyes. “It’s not that great.”

“Don’t you want to learn how to unlock your abilities,” Ville pressed, thinking that Toothless should at least find that part interesting.

“Why don’t you do all the learning,” his friend suggested hopefully, “and then you can pass on the important parts to me. Win, win.”

“That’s not how it works and you know it,” Ville shot back.

“Tavara’s not even a Night Fury,” Toothless declared, his frustration leaking through. “How is she supposed to teach me these things?”

“Is there another Fury around here that I’m unaware of,” he asked drily, resulting in Toothless grumbling something under his breath. “Exactly,” he said, driving his point home. “Tavara is the oldest of our flock and your best chance at learning these things. She may be a Timberjack, but she’s known a few Night Furies in her time, which is more than any other dragon I know can say.”

Toothless begrudgingly agreed, though he still dragged his feet on their way to the clearing they normally had their lessons in.

“Ahh, my favorite pupil,” Tavara greeted Vilhehn, lowering her head so she was at his eye level.

“Hi, Tavara,” he smiled, running over to her and scratching around her horns in the way she liked.

She rumbled in pleasure, her eyes practically closed. Once Ville had finished his ministrations, she turned to greet her other pupil. “And Toothless. Good to see you as well,” she said somewhat dismissively, causing Ville to bite his lips in order to hold back a grin. “Now let us get started,” the Titan Wing dragon announced imperiously.

Vilhehn took copious notes as they discussed everything from respecting another dragon’s territory to making the most of the air currents. Going by the bored look on Toothless’ face, he could tell that his friend felt that he already knew enough about these topics. Tavara must have noticed as well, as she turned most of her attention to Ville, asking him questions and praising him for his insightful answers.

Of course, that drew Toothless’ attention more than anything else. Ville knew his best friend quite well and he could tell that the dragon was becoming jealous of the attention he was receiving, probably made even worse by the fact that these were supposed to be his lessons and not Vilhehn’s. 

Ville loved learning and truly enjoyed the lessons, but he was not above weaponizing Toothless’ jealousy to get him to participate more and to actually listen. He caught a slight twinkle in Tavara’s eyes and had a feeling she was on the same page as him. Working together, they managed to slowly pull Toothless into the discussion more and more, until eventually Ville was sitting back and taking notes, while Tavara’s full attention was on Toothless, helping him to perfect maneuvers that only a dragon could master.

Tavara called a halt to the lesson as the sun began to set and on their flight home, Ville couldn’t help but remark, “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Toothless flipped into a quick barrel roll, but Ville hung on, having expected some such response. “Stop being so patronizing,” he admonished.

Ville just laughed, waiting for the real answer his friend was sure to give if he was just patient enough.

“Fine,” Toothless reluctantly admitted. “It was…better than normal.” He paused before adding, “It’s definitely more fun when I’m able to practice the things that I’m learning.”

“That trick with your spines is really cool,” Ville commented, glancing behind his saddle to see the Night Fury clap his now separated spines.

“It is, huh?” Toothless let out a happy roar, saying, “I bet it will come in handy.”

“I’m sure it will,” Vilhehn agreed.

-o0o-

“Please, Ryker,” Ville begged. “I’ve been practicing a lot with my right hand and I think I’ve got it down now.”

If it wasn’t for the fact that his oldest brother was carrying Ansa, Vilhehn was pretty sure he would have crossed his arms. “Fighting with two weapons at once is not the same as mastering them individually,” Ryker pointed out, eyeing him sternly.

“I know,” he acknowledged. “That’s why I want you to teach me.”

Ryker frowned, absentmindedly bouncing his daughter. “I’m not sure if you’re ready yet.”

“Then test me,” Ville proposed. All he needed was a chance.

Norell took the baby from his brother’s arms, Ryker glaring at her as if she had betrayed him. “What are you-”

“Just go and test him,” she said, lying Ansa in the cradle next to her twin sister, Immi. “You know he’s not going to give up, so you may as well give in to the inevitable.”

Ville grinned at his sister before turning back to Ryker hopefully.

“Fine,” his brother grunted. “We’ll need to find a pair of swords for you to-”

He chose that moment to pull out the twin blades he had been holding behind his back, his smile growing even wider as Norell started to laugh.

Ryker on the other hand was not amused. Resigned would probably be the best way to describe his expression as he dragged a hand down his face. “I should’ve known.”

“You really should have,” Norell chimed in, reaching up to peck her husband’s cheek before shooing them out the door. “Have fun, you two!”

It did not take long for them to get to the training arena, which was rather deserted considering how cold it was, and Ryker was quick to test his ability when fighting right-handed. After running him through his paces, his brother praised his improvement. “Not bad. Definitely a step up from the last time.”

“Does that mean I’m ready,” Ville asked excitedly.

“That means we can start practicing,” Ryker clarified, “but you are not to attempt this in battle,” he said firmly. “If it comes to a fight, though hopefully that won’t be necessary, use your left hand only. Do you understand?”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded eagerly. “So, what’s the biggest difference between using one sword and two?”

Ryker rolled his eyes but went on to explain the finer points of wielding two weapons. Ville paid rapt attention and followed his brother’s instructions to the letter, determined to make him proud…well, prouder.

Chapter Text

Viggo sat back, allowing his mind to drift as Ville pondered his next move in their game. The lad had grown by leaps and bounds, both physically and mentally. In fact, they were fairly evenly matched now when they sat down to play Maces and Talons.

The younger children were already tucked into bed and he glanced over at his wife, seeing that she and Norell were talking as they tackled the mending that seemed to be never-ending. Though with four small children in the family, plus Ville who was rather hard on his clothes due to all the time he spent with the dragons and in the forge, it was no surprise. Ryker was busy sharpening his weapons while Ryden went over the numbers for the inventory they had built up over the winter, preparing for the first run of the season.

Ville finally made his next move, and a rather good one at that, but before Viggo could formulate a plan, a Changewing scream was heard over the village, startling them all from their activities.

“Loni,” Ville said under his breath, his concern more than apparent as he rushed out the front door with Toothless on his heels. Viggo was not far behind them, and neither were Ryker or Ryden.

The Changewing had landed in the center of the village and though she did not appear injured, she was slightly agitated. Ville was already speaking with her in the dragon’s tongue and as soon as there was a pause, Viggo asked his younger brother what the issue was.

“There are ships approaching from the southeast,” he revealed uneasily. “At least ten, all with black sails and armed to the hilt. Loni camouflaged and lingered long enough to hear that they were planning on attacking,”

“Who in their right mind would dare to come up against us,” Ryker grumbled, and Viggo had to admit he agreed.

Their tribe was generally quite feared and had never had an issue with invading parties before. So what had led to the change? True, they did not hunt dragons anymore, but wrangling them to procure their byproducts, which was what they told other tribes, would be no easier.

As he had been thinking, Ville spoke with Loni further and shared, “She said there was much talk of gold and goods and how they were going to be rich.” Ville gulped, adding, “And that no one would get in their way.”

“Trade was very profitable this last year,” Ryden observed. “It’s not exactly a secret as our wares are in high demand.”

Viggo nodded as a plan ran through his mind. Turning to Ville and Loni, he inquired, “How long do we have?”

After a quick volley of growls, Ville replied, “She said it was a ten minute flight, so depending on the speed of their ships…maybe an hour?”

“In a situation like this, knowing that they are coming is half the battle,” he noted before issuing orders. “Ryker, if you can rouse the Guard, we should be able to fend them off on the beaches. Ryden, sound the alarm and make sure all the elderly and the children make it to the Great Hall. The intruders should not make it this far, but it is better to be safe than sorry. And barricade the doors.” His brother by marriage nodded before taking off, leaving just one person left to give an assignment to. “And Ville…” He looked around, wondering where his brother had gone, only to finally spot him on Toothless halfway to the forest. “Where are you going,” he yelled.

“I’ve got this,” Vilhehn shouted over his shoulder before disappearing into the thick canopy.

He was about to call him back when he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder and his older brother told him to let Ville go.

“But Ryker-”

“He’s fourteen now. He can handle himself,” his brother reasoned. “And knowing him, he’s probably got some genius idea to route the invaders.” Giving Viggo’s shoulder a squeeze, he said, “I’ll round up the men and warn them to go along with whatever plan Ville cooks up.”

Viggo nodded. “Be careful, brother.”

“You as well,” he responded, before heading off to collect his men.

Viggo ran back home and helped Heddi and Norell with the children, making sure they were all safely tucked away in the Great Hall before meeting up with Ryker who was just about to start leading the men into the forest.

It was a silent trek, no one wanting to give their location away in case the estimated time of the intruders’ arrival was inaccurate. Upon reaching the beach, they were relieved to see that they had gotten there first, though it was not by more than a few minutes. The Stormhearts remained just inside the tree line, taking advantage of the darkness and the abundance of shadows to conceal themselves, and waited for the opportune moment to attack.

Wanting to lure the intruders into a false sense of security, they allowed most of them to disembark and were about to step out of their cover when a loud voice was heard from above them.

“YOU DARE TO ATTACK THE HOME OF THE STORMHEARTS, THE MOST FEARSOME TRIBE TO EVER EXIST?! DID YOU REALLY THINK YOU COULD MAKE IT PAST OUR DEFENSES UNSCATHED?!”

Even though Viggo knew the voice had to be his younger brother, it still gave him chills, but that was nothing compared to the panic on the faces of the raiding party, particularly when Raske led a few of his fellow Speed Stingers in a quick dash across the beach. Viggo noticed that they stung just a few of the men, moving so fast that they were hardly visible, especially as the moon had been lost behind the clouds.

“WATCH AS YOUR MEN FREEZE IN FEAR,” the ominous voice declared.

That seemed to be a cue for the Changewings to fire acid at the boats as well as on the beach. Toothless added a few well-placed plasma blasts as well, blending seamlessly into the night sky and causing a few of the intruders to let out embarrassingly feminine screams. Though despite the Night Fury’s presence, his rider was nowhere to be seen.

“THE CHOICE IS YOURS. FLEE NOW WHILE YOU STILL HAVE YOUR LIVES OR FACE THE MIGHT OF THE STORMHEARTS.”

As the voice finished speaking, the entire flock of dragons that had made Tulva their home rose from the forest, their mouths filled with fire as Rynnätä swooped by, crackling with electricity.

“YOUR MOVE,” the voice declared smugly as the Speed Stingers made another pass, freezing a few more of the intruders as they went.

The last shot Toothless fired was not even necessary as the invaders were already running pell-mell back to their ships, not even retrieving the frozen members of their party, but leaving them to their fate.

A few dragons broke off from the hovering hoard and continued to drive the ships out to sea, while the rest of the dragons returned to the forest, their job complete.

With the safety of their island assured, Viggo looked around for Toothless, finally spotting him on one of the tallest trees which must have been where Vilhehn was hidden. When the two of them landed, Ville had a huge smile on his face and was quick to run over to where they had been hiding.

Viggo simply shook his head, still in awe of what his brother had accomplished. “Ville, that was…”

“Amazing,” his younger brother exclaimed, still riding the high of their victory.

“It was quite impressive,” Viggo conceded with a slight smile, “but what happened to us keeping our connection to the dragons a secret?”

“It still is,” Ville declared matter-of-factly.

“Not when-”

“No one saw anyone with any of the dragons,” Ville interrupted him. "Well, except for those guys," he amended, gesturing to the intruders who had been left frozen on the beach. “The others didn’t even see you guys hidden in the forest.”

“While that is technically true-”

“All they heard was a disembodied voice warning them away as the dragons attacked,” Ville said logically. “The popular opinion is that we found a way to make the dragons work for us. Who’s to say that doesn’t include defending our island?”

“He has a point,” Ryker spoke up, joining them after sending a few of the men to cart the prisoners to jail.

“He does,” Viggo reluctantly agreed, “and I will admit it was flawlessly executed, but next time please tell me what you have planned before just running off. It would have saved us having to drag everyone out here.”

“Sorry,” Ville muttered guiltily before hastily adding, “But there was always the chance that it wouldn’t have been enough to scare them off or that they would have tried to attack the dragons despite them being out of range. If it worked, great, but if not, it was good to know you were here and ready to keep them from getting any further.”

“It’s alright, Chief,” Lars said, stepping out of the ranks and coming closer. “I think I can speak for most of us when I say it was a sight to behold and something I wouldn’t have missed for the world.”

There was a murmur of agreement from the other men and Vilhehn seemed to perk up.

“See, it all worked out,” he proclaimed.

“That it did,” Viggo acknowledged, ruffling his little brother’s wild hair before settling an arm around his shoulders. “Let us get back to the village and let the others know that we are safe.”

As they walked, Ville showed him the collapsible horn he had been using, explaining that he had created it to try and amplify his dragon calls but it had not worked too well as it distorted the dragon’s tongue into something unrecognizable. “I guess it wasn’t a complete waste, though, as it sure came in handy tonight,” he grinned.

Viggo just shook his head, thinking that what had happened tonight was sure to be a tale they would pass on for generations.

Chapter Text

Ville had finished early in the forge today for…reasons, and he was helping Norell fix dinner when Ryden came in, apparently back from his first run for the season.

After greeting his sister, the trader sat at the table and said, “You will not believe the stories that I’ve heard!”

Norell looked at him strangely, remarking, “You were never one for gossip or stories, unlike some of the other traders we’ve encountered.”

“This is different,” he insisted, his eyes twinkling, causing Ville to wonder what exactly it was that he had heard.

“How,” Norell asked, crossing her arms.

“It’s the tale of the Dragon Master,” he revealed dramatically, more than catching Ville’s attention.

“Dragon Master,” he queried. “Who’s that?”

Ryden grinned. “That is you, dear Ville.”

“Me?!”

“Yup,” Ryden confirmed. “Turns out some of the intruders you scared off started telling stories about a giant of a man who’s half dragon and controls the beasts, making them bend to his will.”

Ville shook his head, protesting, “But that’s not what I do at all.”

“And do you think they’d be afraid of you if they knew the truth,” Ryden countered, quirking an eyebrow.

“They would if they knew the havoc he could cause,” Viggo declared, stepping in the front door before rounding on his youngest brother. “Vilhehn, what happened to the forge?”

“It was an accident,” he proclaimed earnestly. “I swear!”

Viggo pinched the bridge of his nose, muttering, “Do I even want to ask?”

“It wasn’t even my fault,” Ville reasoned. “Barf and Belch just got a little too curious about what I was doing and didn’t realize their gas was seeping out until it hit the forge fire,” he explained, hastily adding, “but they’re going to help make the repairs. They promised!”

His older brother sighed before resignedly shaking his head. “Just see that they do.” Viggo took a seat next to Ryden and said, “What was that you were discussing when I came in? Something about a misconception concerning you?”

Ryden explained and repeated a few of the stories he had heard, each one more outlandish than the last.

“That is an interesting development,” Viggo observed, thoughtfully stroking his beard.

Ville was rather surprised at how calmly his brother was taking this and couldn’t help but say, “You’re not upset?”

Viggo did not respond immediately, instead turning to Ryden and asking for some clarification. “I am assuming the tales connect the Dragon Master to Tulva?”

“That they do,” Ryden verified. “Rumor is that’s how we’re able to get the dragons to work for us, though whether we pay him or he is one of our own, the people have not decided yet.”

“And were there any hints that others may want to steal him away,” Viggo pressed.

Ryden laughed. “Trust me, after hearing the stories that were circulating, only a fool would dare try something like that.”

“Then I see no reason to worry,” Viggo declared decisively. “These stories have done nothing more than prove that our tribe is as strong as ever and not one to be trifled with.”

Ville nodded slowly and returned to helping Norell, while Ryden shared the success of his trip with Viggo.

He must not have been hiding his thoughts as well as he believed he had as it was not long before Norell lightly bumped him, asking him what was the matter.

He wrinkled his nose and replied, “I don’t like people thinking of me like that.”

“They don’t even know who you are,” she pointed out, gesturing toward him with the knife she was using to cut the vegetables. “And from what I heard, you did create some of that illusion yourself.”

He ducked his head, a slight smile on his face as he remembered that night. “I guess…”

“Do you want my opinion,” she queried. He nodded and she suggested, “Lean into it. Use it to craft your persona.”

“I don’t want to be someone I’m not,” he claimed.

“That’s not what I’m saying.” She sat the knife down and gave him her full attention. “Look, here on Tulva, we all love you to bits just as you are. Wouldn’t change a thing. But we both know that in other places, they may not view you with that same respect,” she shot him a knowing look. “Not if you’re just Vilhehn, younger brother to the Chief of Tulva and an apprentice blacksmith. But as the Dragon Master, someone who controls dragons, think how easy it would be to get dragons out of bad situations,” she proposed.

Ville supposed it did make sense, and if it would help his family and the dragons, then it might be worth it.

“I’m not saying to rule with fear,” Norell continued. “Stick to your morals, but use that dramatic flare of yours to give the people what they want, while also getting what you want. Make sense?”

He nodded eagerly, mind already racing with ways he could put her advice to use. Of course, not everything would be applicable now, but once he got a little older, there were sure to be more opportunities to use his reputation for good.

-o0o-

Ville had anxiously been awaiting the annual treaty signing between the Stormhearts and the Berserkers as it was the one time a year he was able to see Dagur. True, they would exchange the occasional letter with Sharpshot, but it wasn’t quite the same. Of course, he had not counted on the fact that the stories of his defense of Tulva would have spread so far and therefore was caught off guard when Dagur started teasing him.

“So, the Dragon Master, eh?”

Ville just rolled his eyes at his friend’s slightly unhinged grin. “The stories are highly exaggerated,” he stated firmly.

“Doesn’t sound that way to me,” Dagur singsonged.

“Look, you know that’s not how things are,” he reasoned, a tinge of his frustration peeking through. “I can tell you what really happened, but you can’t go around revealing that the Dragon Master is a fourteen-year-old boy. It kind of ruins the illusion,” he stated drily.

“I won’t,” Dagur was quick to agree. “But you have to admit, it does have a pretty nice ring to it. Vilhehn: The Dragon Master,” he said dramatically.

“Whatever,” Ville responded, shaking his head, though he could not prevent a small smile at his friend’s antics. Wanting to change to a less loaded topic, he asked, “How have you and Sleuther been?”

“Good,” Dagur shrugged. “Like I said in my last letter, Dad’s been starting to train me more, which is kind of boring, but I guess it’s not all bad. It is nice being able to tell people to their face that they’re wrong.” He laughed in that crazed fashion of his before throwing an arm around Ville’s shoulders and resuming their previous topic. “Now, tell me everything that happened when those lowlifes tried to attack Tulva.”

So much for that attempt at misdirection. Realizing that he was not going to have any peace until he gave in to his friend’s demands, he told his tale from the beginning, keeping everything as factual as he could. Knowing Dagur, when he retold the story back on Berserker Island, it was more likely to resemble the tales that had been spreading throughout the archipelago, but at least Ville had done what he could to mitigate the wild stories.

Chapter Text

Ville was a little more patient this time around on their trip to Berserker Island for the annual treaty signing. He still would have preferred to fly, but now that Viggo and Ryker had families, it was nice for them all to have this time together away from the village. A vacation, so to speak. And keeping the children entertained did help the time go faster.

When Berserker Island came into view, though, he was quick to ask for permission to fly ahead. Ville was thrilled when Viggo granted his request, with the caveat that he let Oswald know the others would be arriving soon. It was a small enough price to pay and he was soon off, Toothless speeding through the clear blue sky as they both worked off some of their excess energy.

Finding Oswald did not take long and after delivering his message, Ville went in search of Dagur. He didn’t get far before he heard a familiar voice call out behind him, “Welcome, great Dragon Master.”

He spun around and playfully shoved his friend. “Would you stop calling me that?!”

Dagur rubbed his shoulder dramatically, but it wasn’t like Ville pushed him that hard. “You’ve put on a lot of muscle in the last year,” his friend commented.

“Not really. I’ve just never had the need to put you in your place before,” he shrugged. “I’ve been training with Ryker since I was six and working in the forge since I was eight. Did you really think I would be some weak, stringbean,” he asked incredulously.

“Well, the stringbean part does hold,” Dagur pointed out with a smirk. “It’s been a while since we’ve sparred-”

“Several visits,” Ville conceded.

“-so what say we have a go at it,” Dagur suggested. “I’m curious to see if you can actually accomplish anything with that muscle of yours.”

“If you think Ryker would allow me to slack off, you truly are deranged,” he remarked drily, following his friend to the Berserker’s training arena. He had grown quite proficient with using his twin blades and, though he had not been cleared for using them in battle quite yet, he wanted to show off his new skill to his friend.

To say Dagur was impressed was an understatement. Though Ville did not win the match, he was able to get in a few jabs and almost disarmed his friend a couple of times. While the Berserker still preferred his axe over any other weapon, he was quick to praise Ville’s newfound skill and admit that he might have to give that combat style a try himself.

As they were walking back through the village, it being almost time to meet the others in the Great Hall, Ville observed, “Things seem pretty peaceful here. You haven’t had any trouble with the dragons or the neighboring tribes?”

“Not one issue,” Dagur confirmed. “The dragons don’t bother Bevroren and things have been good.” He paused before adding, “Can’t say the same for the other tribes, though.”

Ville’s brow furrowed, “But I thought you said…”

“Oh, they haven’t been bothering us,” Dagur clarified. “They haven’t had the time. I hear that the raids have gotten much worse in the last year or two, though no one has been able to figure out why.”

“Hmm, have you asked Bevroren?”

Dagur looked at him like he was crazy, which was saying something considering it was coming from the deranged heir of the Berserkers. “Yeah, I’m not on the same friendly terms with that giant as you are, and seeing as you would be coming anyway…” Dagur trailed off and grinned, while Ville just shook his head.

He should have expected it, and it wasn’t like he truly minded. “Fine, I’ll speak with him while we’re here.”

“You know you would have anyway,” Dagur declared knowingly.

Ville just rolled his eyes, unwilling to admit that his friend was right.

-o0o-

The next day found Ville deep in the caves of Berserker Island searching for a certain dragon. “Bevroren,” he called. “I’ve come to say hello.”

One more twist in the tunnel and the massive Bewilderbeast was revealed. “It is good to see you, Vilhehn.”

“You, too,” he smiled, stepping closer to scratch Bevroren’s chin. “Have things been well? No complaints for the Berserkers?”

“They have been holding up to their end of the deal,” he disclosed, much to Ville’s relief.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust what his friend had told him the day before, but sometimes a human’s perspective and a dragon’s perspective could vary greatly. “I’m glad,” he responded as he continued his ministration. Once Bevroren seemed to be pleasantly relaxed, Ville brought up the topic he was most curious about. “There’s something I wanted to ask you.”

“Hmm?”

“I know you keep most dragons from approaching the island,” he admitted, “but the surrounding tribes are plagued by raids. Do you know why the dragons attack them?”

“I do.”

Apparently that was all the answer Bevroren decided he needed, prompting him to press the dragon for more information. “And?”

The Bewilderbeast looked at him curiously. “As it does not affect you, I do not understand your concern.”

“Dragons attack Vikings and Vikings attack dragons. It’s a vicious cycle,” he explained, stepping back to better gauge the massive dragon’s reaction. “Why wouldn’t I want to stop the suffering?”

Bevroren bobbed his head, acknowledging the veracity of his point. “You are wise for your years,” he rumbled. “There is a nest to the southwest,” he began. “The Queen sends out her subjects to collect food for her as she is too lazy to do it herself.”

Putting two and two together, Ville said, “So, the dragons are basically her slaves?”

The Bewilderbeast gave his version of a shrug and replied, “That is one way to put it.”

“Couldn’t you reach out with your mind and tell her to stop,” he asked, thinking that there had to be some way to stop the needless violence.

“It is not so simple,” Bevroren stated. “Though she is not as powerful as I, she is too strong for me to control. As for speaking with her, I do not believe she is capable of being reasoned with.”

“Oh…” That would definitely make things harder. He did still have a Bewilderbeast on his side though… “Would you be willing to help me stop her?”

Bevroren shook his head. “That is not my place. My home is safe and I will not risk that.” With that statement, the Bewilderbeast ambled further into the caves, clearly finished with the conversation, leaving a disappointed Vilhehn behind.

Ville could understand the dragon’s reasoning, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. He wasn’t giving up though, he would just have to come up with a plan…one that did not include the King of dragons. It would definitely make things harder, especially as he had very little information to go on, but it didn’t mean it was impossible. And he wouldn’t be alone either. He had Toothless and his family, probably Dagur, too, as the redhead would never miss the opportunity to dive into battle.

But first, they needed to strategize, and he knew exactly who to ask for advice.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure about this,” Viggo asked, staring intently at his younger brother.

“Definitely,” Ville replied, nodding his head firmly as he tightened the straps on Toothless’ saddle.

“You know I will always support you, Ville, but this is…” Viggo trailed off, unsure of exactly what it was they were even going to be facing. “This is most likely to be something the likes of which we have never seen before.”

“I know,” Ville acknowledged, his face unusually solemn. “But if we could stop all the bloodshed, it would be worth it.”

“Rather ironic, when you think about it,” Ryker chimed in from where he was already mounted on Kuori. “Killing a dragon to stop the violence.”

“That’s only as a last resort,” Ville insisted. “I know what Bevroren said, but he is rather…set in his ways. For all that he said the Queen is lazy, so is he in his own way.”

Dagur snorted at that statement and based on his one interaction with the massive Bewilderbeast, Viggo had to admit he agreed. “I will not say that you are wrong,” he told his younger brother, “but just because you have befriended every dragon you have met since you were six does not mean it will continue to hold true.”

“I know, but I have to try,” Vilhehn maintained. “And we have a backup plan in case things go wrong.”

It was true, but with so many unknowns, they could not plan sufficiently, leaving them with a strategy that was most definitely not foolproof. “Just promise me that if things go wrong, you and Dagur will hightail it out of there while Ryker and I distract the beast.”

“But Toothless is by far the fastest and most powerful of our dragons,” Ville countered, hopping on his Night Fury’s back. “He would stand the best chance.”

Viggo shook his head. “Vilhehn-”

“I’m fifteen now,” he declared adamantly. “I won’t go into a situation without calculating the risks, but I’m not going to make a promise that I may not be able to keep.” With that, he nudged Toothless and they took off, heading in the direction they believed the nest to be. Dagur was quick to follow, though Viggo exchanged a worried glance with Ryker before the two of them joined them.

While Ville’s refusing to make that promise might seem disrespectful to some, Viggo did not view it that way. After the incident on Healer’s Island when the lad was twelve, he had never disobeyed again and was very careful to only make promises he could keep. And as Ville had pointed out, he was growing up. By this time next year, he would be considered an adult and a full-fledged member of their tribe. He had more than proved himself, but Viggo could not help wanting to keep his little brother safe. 

The silence had stretched between them long enough and he encouraged Rynnätä to come up even with Toothless. “I trust you, Ville. I do,” he told his younger brother, “but please try not to take any unnecessary risks.”

“I’ll do my best,” he vowed earnestly.

That was the best he was going to get and it would do…he hoped. They flew for approximately an hour until they encountered a bank of fog, one that Oswald had told them about.

“Helheim’s Gate,” Dagur muttered, seeming to steel himself for whatever lay on the other side.

“This is it,” Ville said resolutely. “Everyone ready?”

At their collective agreement, they dove into the fog, the dragons slaloming through the sea stacks until they came out the other side. The volcanic island in front of them was completely devoid of life except for the dragons, and the few that were visible seemed rather skittish.

“Depressing, ain’t it,” Ryker remarked.

Viggo watched as Ville’s eyes darted around, probably trying to catch the growls that he could hear but faintly. The lad shook his head and declared, “This cannot be allowed to continue,” before urging Toothless to find the entrance to the nest. Viggo and Rynnätä followed close behind while the others waited outside as they had planned.

If the island itself had been oppressive, that was nothing compared to the weight of discontent and dread found at the heart of the volcano. Toothless and Rynnätä landed on one of the higher ledges and Ville called out in the dragon’s tongue. There was an answering reply from the depths of the volcano, but it did not sound friendly.

As Ville and their dragons were focused on the Queen, Viggo allowed his eyes to roam, noticing that the other dragons perched around the nest held more than a hint of fear in their eyes. It was almost as if they were silently pleading for Ville not to interfere, as if the situation would only worsen if he tried to intervene.

Finally returning his gaze to the center of the volcano, Viggo was just in time to spot the Queen rising from the magma. She was a hideous creature, nothing like the calm majesty of Bevroren. Rather, she was old and weathered, looking like death itself, and with the way she was grunting and growling, she almost seemed half mad. A point that was further confirmed when Ville suddenly shouted, “GO!”

Toothless and Rynnätä shot off, aiming for the volcano's mouth. They left just in time as the Queen lunged at the ledge where they had been perched, barely missing them. The other dragons seemed to be in a panic and tried to flee as well, making the already difficult escape even more treacherous. Their dragons knew what they were doing though and after some fancy flying, they made it out safely. 

As they flew over to where Ryker and Dagur were waiting, Viggo turned to his younger brother and said, “She would not be reasoned with?”

“No,” Ville responded with the slightest of shudders. “She seems to have become obsessed with power.”

Viggo nodded. While he had not been able to understand what the Queen was saying, she had seemed anything but magnanimous. “We would do best to retreat and come up with a permanent solution now that we have some idea what we are up against.”

“I guess, but-” Ville cut himself off as their attention was drawn to the volcano trembling behind them, cracks appearing in the surface before the Queen’s head broke through the basalt rock. She let out a mighty roar, and Ville shouted, “Uh, I don’t think that’s going to be an option!”

Rynnätä took matters into her own claws and sent a lightning blast at the row of eyes on the Queen nearest to them, causing the horrendous dragon to howl in pain. Their backup plan would not suffice any longer, and Viggo was attempting to rapidly determine an alternate course, but his brother beat him to it.

“We need to get her in the air,” Ville proclaimed, a determined look on his face.

“Ville-”

“Toothless and I can take her,” he stated confidently, meeting his brother’s gaze. “Trust me.”

Kuori and Sleuther flew up to them at that moment and Ryker asked, “What do you want us to do?”

“I need some time,” Ville explained. “Just a minute or two. Can you distract her for that long?”

“You’ve got it,” Ryker nodded firmly before leading Dagur off in an attack against the Queen.

“And once I’ve gotten her attention, keep the other dragons from interfering,” Ville requested. “I don’t know if they’ll be a problem or not.”

Viggo nodded, reluctant to let his brother go off on his own, but they did not have much choice. “Be careful.”

“I will,” Ville promised, before directing Toothless up into the clouds.

Viggo joined his brother and Dagur in distracting the Queen, though it was but a moment before Toothless's signature whistle was heard and they saw the Night Fury fire off a plasma blast as he came out of his divebomb. The hit was powerful enough to knock the beast to one side and Viggo did not need to understand the dragon’s tongue to know that she was livid.

The Queen spread her ragged wings and took to the sky, chasing Ville and Toothless up into the clouds, where, apparently, he was going to enact his plans.

The dragons from the nest were still circling around their destroyed nest, but none seemed interested in the battle going on far above them, allowing the three men and their dragons to watch as plasma lit up the clouds.

Viggo was not sure what his brother was doing up there, but his breath caught in his throat when he saw Toothless dive from the clouds, followed closely by the colossal Queen. The hideous beast opened her mouth, and Viggo felt a deep sense of dread as he was sure he was about to watch his brother die.

But much to his surprise, Toothless flipped around and fired into the Queen’s mouth, her fire igniting and causing her to burn from the inside out. She tried to stop her fall, but as she spread her wings, the already fragile appendages tore, having been further weakened by Toothless’ attack in the clouds. She had no way to stop herself and soon crashed into the island, exploding on impact.

Though Viggo had kept half an eye on the Queen through all this, his main focus had been on Ville and Toothless. After blasting the Queen’s fire, they managed to get out of the way, flying past her face and up her back, avoiding her tail that seemed to have lost all control. But with the explosion came much debris and smoke, causing him to lose sight of Ville and his dragon.

Chapter Text

As the smoke began to clear, albeit slowly, Ville was still nowhere to be seen, causing Viggo to panic.

“Kuori, find Ville,” Ryker ordered, his tone terse.

As the Rumblehorn worked to pick up the trail, Rynnätä and Sleuther kept pace with him. Viggo absentmindedly noted that Dagur was uncharacteristically subdued. He could not blame the Berserker heir as what they had just witnessed was the stuff of legends, and with Ville still missing…

“This is all my fault,” he murmured. “If anything has happened to him…”

“Not this again,” Ryker grumbled, rolling his eyes.

“You cannot tell me you are not worried,” he snapped.

“One of us needs to keep a level head,” Ryker pointed out drily before admitting, “Yes, I am worried, but beating ourselves up over what happened is not going to get us anywhere.” He had barely finished speaking when Kuori darted forward, the other dragons quick to match his speed.

As they rounded the corner of the island, Viggo caught sight of a black speck on the beach and urged Rynnätä to go faster. “Toothless!”

The Night Fury looked up briefly and roared before returning his attention to something on the ground. Since the dragon’s saddle was empty, it could only mean one thing…Ville.

Rynnätä’s paws had barely touched the ground when Viggo jumped off her back, running over to where Toothless was nudging his little brother…who was not responding. He felt a brief moment of relief when he noticed Ville’s chest moving ever so slightly, but it was short-lived as his gaze swept down the boy's body and he caught sight of his brother’s injury.

“Part of that beast, if I had to take a guess,” Ryker observed, nodding toward the shard of bone sticking out of Ville’s left leg. “We need to get him back to Berserker Island as soon as possible.”

Viggo nodded. “Agreed.” He remounted his Skrill and Ryker carefully passed their youngest brother to them. In a flurry of wings, they left the desolate place behind, the dragons pushing their limits to get Ville the help he needed as soon as possible.

When Berserker Island came into view, Dagur and Sleuther led the way straight to the healer’s hut while Ryker broke off to inform Heddi and Norell what had occurred. Catching sight of Ville’s injury, the healer’s expression turned grim and after getting him inside, Viggo was unceremoniously kicked out with nothing to do but wait.

Rynnätä tried to comfort him, while Toothless prowled around the hut, apparently determined to find some other entrance, wanting to make sure his best friend was okay.

“Toothless, come here,” Viggo called gently, the Night Fury reluctantly making his way over as he kept glancing back at the healer’s hut. “We have to let the healer do his job,” he explained. “Any interruptions could make things worse and hurt Ville further.”

Toothless huffed and plopped on the ground next to him, crooning pitifully.

“I know exactly what you mean,” he commiserated, stroking the dragon’s head.

“Viggo!” He looked up to see his wife running toward him, Ryker and Norell following at a slightly less frantic pace. Heddi slammed into him, wrapping her arms around him as she asked, “Is he going to be okay? What did the healer say?”

“Not one word, but his expression was bleak,” Viggo revealed. He took a deep breath, attempting to steady his nerves, and added, “Ville is strong, though.”

“Aye, he’s a Stormheart,” Ryker stated. “We don’t go down easily.”

They settled down to wait, Dagur eventually having to take his leave as his father needed him, but not before extracting a promise to send a message as soon as they heard any news. The children were with Heather for now, so at least that was one less thing for them to worry about as time crept by. Minutes turned to hours and the group let out a collective breath when the healer finally emerged.

“I’m sorry,” he apologized, “but I was unable to save the leg. I had to amputate.”

“He is alive, though,” Viggo pressed urgently, needing to hear it stated clearly.

“Yes,” the healer smiled. “He should make a full recovery.”

“May we see him,” Norell inquired softly.

“Of course. Just know that it may take a few days for him to regain consciousness.”

They nodded their understanding and filed into the cramped hut, Toothless bringing up the rear and immediately curling around the bed. Ryker and Norell stayed but briefly, Norell needing to get back to the children and Ryker offering to go and tell Dagur the news. Heddi spoke with the healer, getting all the care instructions they would need, while Viggo simply sat by the bed his brother was in, holding his hand, and hoping Ville would wake up sooner rather than later. Heddi soon joined him, standing behind his chair and draping her arms around his shoulders. 

“Will he need to stay here or can we take him home,” he queried, not having been paying attention to what the healer told her, too caught up in his own thoughts.

“He said he would prefer Ville to wake up before we leave,” she answered, “just in case there is some other issue. He does not believe that is the case,” she reassured him. “It’s just a precaution.”

Viggo nodded in acknowledgment, though his gaze did not waver from the spot where Ville’s leg should have been. “I should not have let him do it.”

Heddi’s arms tightened around him. “Do you really think you could have talked him out of it?”

“…No,” he sighed.

“Exactly,” she declared. “It was a difficult situation, and one that he saw the answer to. Yes, it was not without its risks, but you supported him and were able to end the rule of that tyrant. You all could have suffered so much worse considering the size of that beast and though the loss of a limb is nothing to sneeze at, we could have lost you all.” Her voice broke there at the end and Viggo pulled her around the chair, settling her in his lap and holding her close. “I’m going to be selfish and say I’m grateful that was the only injury sustained,” Heddi whispered, resting her forehead against his. “It will take time, but he will be okay. Will you?”

“I will be…eventually,” he smiled wryly, meeting her saddened gaze. “How are you holding up?”

“You’re not the only one who hates seeing him this way,” she confessed, glancing sorrowfully at Ville and reaching out to brush his hair out of his face. “We’ll make it through, though. All of us.”

-o0o-

Viggo had maintained his vigil at his brother’s side for the past three days, only leaving when absolutely necessary. He was prepared for another long day of silence when Toothless’ head shot up from the other side of the bed. The Night Fury began to croon, softly nudging his favorite human.

“Toothless, what are you…” Viggo trailed off as he noticed the barely perceptible flicker of Ville’s eyelids. Moving so he was sitting on the edge of the bed and blocking the view of his brother’s foot…or lack thereof…he picked up Ville’s hand, giving it a slight squeeze.

There was the smallest of pressure given in return just before Vilhehn’s eyes fluttered open. “Mmm…Viggo?”

The lad tried to sit up, but Viggo laid his other hand on his shoulder, keeping him down. “Take it easy, Ville. You have been unconscious for three days.”

“What happened,” he asked, blinking slowly. “And why does my leg hurt so much?”

“How much do you remember,” Viggo countered.

Ville was about to speak when Toothless nudged him again, his exasperation at being ignored abundantly clear. 

“Hey, bud,” the boy smiled, shakily stroking his best friend’s face. Ville’s attention returned to Viggo as his brow furrowed. “I remember us going to the nest and Toothless challenging the Queen. We damaged her wings and then shot at her gas and there was a big explosion… After that, though, it’s all a blank,” he admitted, before hastily saying, “She is gone, right?”

“She is,” Viggo confirmed. “You and Toothless led her to her demise. I am sure Toothless could give you more details than I, which I would be curious to hear myself, but when the Queen exploded, there was a large amount of debris in the air. Whether it was a piece of bone or one of the Queen’s teeth, we are not sure, but your leg was impaled.”

Ville sighed, his expression pinched from the pain he was sure to be in. “That explains a lot. How long am I laid up for?”

“Quite a while,” Viggo disclosed. “You see, the damage was…”

His hesitance to reveal the truth of the matter was not lost on his little brother, Vilhehn looking at him with trepidation. “Viggo?”

“I am sorry, Ville. So, so sorry,” he declared passionately. “The healer could not save your leg.”

“I- You mean…”

Viggo nodded, his heart breaking at the crestfallen look on his brother’s face. Compassion quickly turned to concern, though, as Vilhehn started to hyperventilate, the news of being down a limb too much for him to handle.

He grabbed his brother’s shoulders, hoping to ground him as he said, “Ville, look at me. Breathe.”

There was still a hint of panic in the lad’s eyes, but he nodded jerkily and did his best to mimic Viggo’s slow breaths. It took a few minutes, but he eventually calmed enough to stammer out, “I- I’m sorry. I tried t-to be careful but-”

Viggo gently pulled his brother into his arms and reassured him that an apology was the last thing he was expecting from him. “I am not mad at you, Ville. What you did was…magnificent,” he remarked, a hint of awe in his voice. “A feat truly worthy of a Dragon Master. I am only sorry that the cost was so high.”

Ville nodded slowly before reasoning, “I guess it could have been worse.”

“Do not even go there,” Viggo ordered, pulling back just enough to look his brother in the eye. “I would never have been able to forgive myself if we had lost you.”

“It wouldn’t have been your fault,” Ville pointed out.

“Perhaps not, but if I could have prevented it, I would have,” he proclaimed earnestly. “I wish I could take the pain for you, that I was the one who was injured instead of you, but we cannot rewrite the past. I promise, though, we will do everything we can to help you recover.”

“Thank you,” Ville whispered, his energy already fading as he leaned heavily against Viggo. “Are we still on Berserker Island?”

“Yes,” he replied. “The healer did not want us leaving until you woke up, just in case.”

“Does that mean we can go home now,” Ville queried, his longing more than apparent.

Viggo nodded. “Let me ask the healer to take one last look at you, and then we can be on our way.”

Chapter Text

After being poked and prodded by the Berserker healer, Ville was more than relieved to receive permission to embark on the trip home. It wasn’t that he hadn’t been well taken care of here, he could see that they had done all they could, but with everything that happened, he wanted nothing more than to be surrounded by the comforts of home.

His farewell to Dagur and his family was brief, Ryker carrying him out to their ship and straight to his cabin where he was encouraged to rest and take it easy. Toothless refused to leave his side, even to go eat, and Ville eventually gave up his attempts to persuade the stubborn dragon otherwise.

He wound up taking a nap, only waking when Heddi brought him some dinner, keeping company with him while he ate. After drinking another mug of willow bark tea, he promptly fell asleep, though with all the rest he had gotten during the day, it did not last long.

When he woke, Toothless was dead to the world and the ship was quiet in a way it only was at night. Left to his own thoughts, the revelations of the day weighed heavily on him and, though he was not sure if he was ready, this was the first time he had been truly alone. Well, as alone as he would ever be, but Toothless was asleep and therefore would not be witness to his first real look at his leg.

Ville slowly pulled back his furs, choking on a sob as he caught sight of where his left leg ended, just a little below his knee. He knew it was gone, but seeing it, seeing the wealth of bandages, and finally realizing all that he had lost, it was just too much.

With all that had happened since he woke up, he hadn’t truly had a chance to grieve over his lost limb, still getting over the shock of it all. But now, it hit him full force and he tried to muffle his cries with his sleeping furs, not wanting to disturb anyone.

Of course, he had not counted on the sensitive hearing of his Night Fury friend. He had not even seen the dragon creeping over as his eyes had been screwed shut, but when Toothless shoved his way into Ville’s arms, he knew there was no sense in trying to hide his tears any longer.

“I’m sorry, bud,” he sniffed, trying to get a hold of himself. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Does it hurt,” Toothless whined as he licked away his tears.

Ville gave a watery chuckle and shrugged. “I suppose…maybe a little…it’s not bad though.”

“Then why are you crying,” Toothless pressed.

“It’s just a lot to take in,” he sighed. “I never thought I’d lose a limb, but then again, I guess no one ever does.”

“I’m sorry,” the dragon crooned sorrowfully.

Ville wrapped his arms around his best friend’s neck. “It’s not your fault, bud.”

“I should have protected you more,” Toothless insisted, his distress clear.

“And if that bone had hit you,” Ville queried. “It could have torn your wing or you could have died!”

“It’s no different to what happened to you,” the Night Fury reasoned.

“You could have been grounded, Toothless. Permanently,” he said emphatically, glad that if one of them had to be injured it was him. Of course, all those he cared about, and who cared about him, wished it was the other way around. “I’ll learn to walk again. I will,” he reassured the Night Fury. “It’s- it’s a setback and it will take time to heal, but I’ll get there.”

He laid his forehead against his best friend’s snout, hoping to provide the same comfort that Toothless had offered him. The moment was interrupted, though, by a soft knock on his door.

“Ville, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he answered hastily, wondering what Norell was doing up at this time of night.

“Forgive me if I don’t believe that,” she countered. “May I come in?”

Before Ville could answer, Toothless had already opened the door, letting his sister in. “Traitorous reptile,” he mumbled under his breath, which only caused the Night Fury to laugh. Turning to Norell, he asked, “What are you doing up?”

“Immi woke me,” she responded, sitting on the edge of his bunk.

“Still having trouble with teething?”

“Mm-hmm, but those weren’t the only noises I heard,” she divulged.

Ville cringed. “I didn’t mean to disturb anyone.”

“You weren’t,” she assured him, moving so that she was sitting next to him instead of facing him. “Come here,” she said, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Do you need some willow bark,” she inquired solicitously. “The Berserkers gave us more than enough to help with your pain for the duration of the journey home.”

“No, I’m alright for now,” he replied.

“Okay,” Norell nodded. She paused for a moment before continuing. “You know, we’re all here for you, right? If you want to talk or cry or rage at the sky, whatever will help you to get through this.”

Ville couldn’t help but smile at the thought of yelling at the sky. It wasn’t a half-bad idea, but maybe later. “I know,” he admitted. “I just… With leaving and all, I didn’t have too much time to think about it.”

“That’s understandable,” she acknowledged. Changing the subject slightly, she said, “Did you know that Dagur’s already spreading the tale of how the Dragon Master took down a beast the size of a mountain?”

“Really,” he asked incredulously before shaking his head. “I shouldn’t be surprised, but I wish he’d just leave it be.”

Norell smiled softly, squeezing his shoulders slightly. “Ryker told me about the battle and you know he doesn’t exaggerate. It sounded like something worthy of a saga. You are truly amazing, Ville, and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Thanks, Norell,” he said just before a yawn escaped his mouth.

“I think that’s my cue to leave,” she observed lightly. “Do you think you’ll be able to get back to sleep alright now?”

“I think so,” he smiled, appreciative of the way his sister had helped to distract him and lighten his mood. “Thank you, Norell.”

“Anytime, Ville,” she responded as she stood and walked to the door. “If you need me, just knock on the wall and I’ll be right over.”

Ville nodded, not having thought about the fact that Ryker and Norell’s cabin was right next to his. It explained how she had heard him so easily, and brought him no end of embarrassment, but at the same time, it was reassuring to know that his family was nearby and would come to his aid even if he hadn’t asked for their help.

-o0o-

Never in his life had Ville been so relieved to return back home. The only problem was all the attention focused on him as Ryker carried him from the port and through the village. He knew Viggo had sent a brief missive back with Apuri, explaining that they would be delayed and why, but the attention from the villagers was overwhelming. He knew they meant well and he appreciated their concern, but he was still coming to terms with everything himself and did not feel up to dealing with them.

In fact, he did not feel up to doing much of anything, something which he knew was beginning to cause his family to worry. They did their best to support him, but at this point, he just felt hollow. Even his nieces and nephew could not manage to lift his spirits for long.

He didn’t hide himself away though, willingly allowing either Ryker or Viggo to carry him down to the main room every morning, but though he found comfort in being back home, he was at a loss for what to do with himself.

They had been back for a few days now and as Ville stared into the fire, he felt a weight fall on his lap. “What’s this,” he asked, picking up the leather-bound book with a hint of curiosity.

“A new journal,” Ryden explained. “I thought maybe the old one wasn’t inspiring you anymore. After all, I haven’t seen you pick up a charcoal stick since you got back four days ago. That’s got to be some kind of a record.”

Ville shrugged halfheartedly, setting the journal back on his lap. “Just haven’t felt in the mood is all. Can’t exactly go and work on any idea I come up with so…” He trailed off, waving his hand vaguely.

“While that is true, it’s not all that different from when we’re all cooped up inside during the winter storms,” Ryden pointed out.

“But at least there are breaks in between them,” Ville reasoned. Gesturing to his leg, he stated, “This will take months to heal.”

“I bet Elias would be happy to try things out for you,” Ryden proposed.

Ville ran his finger over the embossing on the cover of the journal. “Maybe…”

“After all, once your leg is healed up, you’re going to need a prosthetic,” Ryden observed, “and I don’t see you as a traditional wooden peg guy.”

That brought a small smile to his face. “I suppose you do have a point…”

“Why don’t you try and dream something up,” Ryden recommended, passing him a charcoal stick. “Maybe you’ll even feel up to sitting in the forge while Elias works on it so you can ensure he makes it to your exact specifications.”

Ville twirled the stick around his finger as he thought. “Yeah, I guess that could work…” At Ryden’s suggestion, a variety of ideas had started to flood his mind and he quickly flipped the journal open writing down the best ones and starting on a preliminary sketch. He was so absorbed that he didn’t even notice the relieved smiles exchanged by his family.

Chapter Text

Ville woke up to a stinging pain in his leg. His hands shot out to grab it, but there was nothing there, confusing his sleep-hazed mind for a moment until he remembered that his leg was gone. Unfortunately, despite his lack of leg, the pain continued, transitioning more into a burning sensation that just wouldn’t stop. He tried not to make any noise as he dealt with the pain, but somehow, Toothless always knew when something was the matter.

The Night Fury jumped to his feet and rushed over, gently nudging Ville and asking him what was wrong.

“Hurts,” Ville ground out, only able to manage the one word as a particularly sharp pain hit.

“What hurts,” Toothless pressed, sniffing him thoroughly and trying to find the problem himself.

“Leg,” Ville groaned, his eyes squeezed shut. “Ugh, it’s awful.”

“I’m getting Viggo,” Toothless declared, but Ville stopped him.

“No, I’ll- I’ll be fine,” he bit out.

If he hadn’t been in so much pain, he would have noticed Toothless’ skeptical expression accompanied by the dragon gesturing for Sharpshot to go and wake Viggo. As it was Ville was completely ignorant, barely aware of anything beyond his own suffering. He did feel Toothless wrap himself around him, though, crooning comfortingly, the vibrations offering some comfort. Ville tried to focus on that and not the agonizing sensations occurring in his leg as he tried to push through the pain.

The next thing he knew there was a hand on his shoulder and he looked up blearily to see his brother staring at him in concern. “Ville, what’s wrong?”

He blinked a few times, having trouble processing the question as he had one of his own. “How are you- Why are you here?”

“Sharpshot woke me up,” Viggo shared before repeating his previous question. “What’s wrong?”

“I- I don’t know,” Ville replied, his breath hitching. “It just hurts. So bad,” he whimpered.

“Where does it hurt,” Viggo inquired.

“Leg,” he gasped, as another jolt hit.

“Let me look,” Viggo offered, gently unwrapping Ville’s fingers from where he was clutching his leg.

He watched as his brother carefully unwound his bandages, though once he got to the last layer, he switched his gaze to his brother’s face, not ready to see his stump laid bare.

“It seems fine,” Viggo observed. “No infection, no swelling.”

“Then why does it hurt so bad,” he cried.

Heddi sat next to him and pressed a mug into his hands, one that he soon discovered contained willow bark tea. He drank it greedily, hoping it would help ease his pain as his sister rubbed circles on his back.

“The healer did say that sometimes strange sensations can accompany the loss of a limb,” she informed him. “That you can feel pain where it once was. It’s called a phantom pain.”

“Will it ever go away,” he asked desperately.

She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and hugged him as Viggo finished rewrapping his leg. “In most cases, it will occur less and less frequently.”

“And other times,” he inquired, not sure he really wanted to know.

“I think you know the answer to that.” Heddi smiled at him sadly and ran her hand through his hair, her tender touch helping him to relax a bit. “It can also be triggered sometimes,” she revealed, “but right now it’s just because your body is trying to adjust.”

Ville nodded, reluctantly accepting the truth of the matter before clenching his teeth as another pain hit. Heddi held him tighter while Viggo came around to sit on the other side of the bed, grasping his hand firmly.

“We are here for you, Ville,” his brother promised. “We are here.”

Though Ville was not pleased that Toothless didn’t listen and sent for help, he was deeply appreciative of the support his family gave him. Their presence brought him much comfort and helped to distract him from the pain at least a little bit. After a time, the willow bark tea started working, or the phantom pain decided it had tortured him enough, and he was able to drift back to sleep, the ordeal leaving him thoroughly exhausted.

-o0o-

“Alright, Ville,” Ryker said, grasping his brother’s forearms. “Let’s try this again.”

Ville nodded and stepped forward on his prosthetic, wincing slightly, but as soon as he tried to move his other foot, his bad leg gave out. He would have fallen to the floor if it wasn’t for Ryker’s firm grip keeping him upright.

“Can I just say that I would much rather be doing weapons training,” he remarked through gritted teeth, switching all his weight back to his good leg.

“You can,” his oldest brother responded drily, “but that’s not an option right now. You have to walk before you can run.”

Ville rolled his eyes. “Ha ha ha, very funny.” He had only been deemed ready to wear his prosthetic earlier this week and he knew it would take time to get used to it, but he was getting a little frustrated. “I’m fifteen. I learned how to walk years ago. Why can’t this be easier,” he grumbled. “Even Niko and the twins can walk better than me right now.”

“Because they have two feet and you only have one,” Elisabet chimed in from where she was playing with her little brother.

Leave it to a five-year-old to tell it to you like it is. He couldn’t help but smile at her frankness, though, and wryly said, “Thank you, Lissa.”

“Uh-huh,” she replied cheerily before returning her attention to Niko.

“She does have a point,” Ryker reasoned, much to Ville’s dismay.

“I know,” he reluctantly admitted.

Ryker gave him a piercing look before suggesting they take a break. Once they were sitting down near the fire, his brother said, “Now, what is it that’s really bothering you?”

Ville sighed. “It just feels like nothing is ever going to be the same again.”

“Well, it’s not,” Ryker stated baldly, resulting in Ville pulling a face. “Will it take time to adjust,” his brother continued, ignoring his less than pleased expression. “Yes, but that’s not a bad thing.”

“This discussion seems vaguely familiar,” Ville remarked, his gaze drifting toward Elisabet as he remembered the talk he had with his oldest brother shortly after she was born.

“It was good advice then and it still is now,” Ryker maintained.

Ville grumbled under his breath, not ready to accept that truth just yet. His brother must have seen that as he tried a different approach.

“If I recall, you said your blacksmith friend back on Berk had a prosthetic, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah,” Ville mumbled. “He actually has two.”

“And did that slow him down,” Ryker pressed.

Ville scrunched up his nose, realizing the point his brother was trying to make. “No.”

“And you’ll get to that point, too,” he declared. “It’s just going to take some time, so you need to be patient with yourself.”

“Fine,” Ville huffed, carefully levering himself back to his feet, ready to keep working. “Let’s just get this over with.”

-o0o-

“Ville, are you okay?”

He glanced at Norell, noting the worried look on her face, but he was quick to brush off her concern. “I’m fine,” he replied, using his crutches to help him make his way to the table. He didn’t particularly care to use them, but they allowed him to get around on his own and to practice walking with his prosthetic when his family was not available to help, which he had done quite a lot these past two weeks.

“You’re not,” she claimed. “You’re wincing with every step.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you lose your leg,” he responded sarcastically.

“Perhaps, but you weren’t this bad yesterday or the day before,” she pointed out. Gently shoving him into the nearest seat and taking his crutches, she said, “Let me take a look.”

“It’s fine,” he declared emphatically, crossing his arms as his sister began to remove his prosthetic. “I promise.”

Toothless grumbled something about hard-headed idiots who don’t listen to their bodies and though Norell could not understand him, her next statement made it clear that she still caught his meaning.

“Toothless does not agree and neither do I,” she said firmly, setting his prosthetic aside and reaching for the sock he wore over his stump.

“Tattletale,” Ville accused the Night Fury, though he had to admit, if only to himself, that it felt good to have that dumb prosthetic off.

Norell’s sharp gasp should have served as a warning, but he was not prepared for her next question as she prodded his very sensitive scars. “Ville, how much have you been practicing lately?”

He shrugged, refusing to meet her eyes. “I dunno,” he hedged.

“Ville!”

He cringed, knowing he might have been overdoing it just a little. “I’ve been trying to get used to my prosthetic. That’s all.”

Norell sighed and grabbed his chin, forcing him to look at her. “And you know what the healer said. Don’t rush things.” She shook her head and grabbed his prosthetic, shaking it at him. “You’re not wearing this until the swelling goes down.”

“But Norell-”

“No buts about it,” she cut in. “Look, Ville. I know it’s hard right now and you just want to go back to living a normal life, but when you push yourself like this, you’re only causing more damage. Do you want to get an infection? Do you?”

“No,” he mumbled, his gaze dropping to his lap.

“Exactly,” Norell acknowledged. “Now, until you can show me that you can make reasonable decisions and not push yourself, I’m keeping a hold of this.”

“But, Norell, that’s my leg!”

“So is that,” she reasoned, gesturing to his swollen stump, “and look at the state it’s in.”

He knew his sister was right, but he couldn’t stomach the thought of losing what little progress he had managed to make, resulting in him muttering, “I could just get Elias to make me a new one.”

“And I will confiscate that one as well,” Norell declared firmly. “You have to work up to being able to wear this for extended periods of time,” she said, giving his prosthetic a slight shake. “You can’t just jump in with both feet”

“Kind of impossible anyway,” he commented, stretching out his stump as he looked at her with one eyebrow raised.

“You know what I mean,” she claimed, waving her free hand dismissively. Sighing, she sat down beside him and added, “If you won’t think of yourself, at least think of the rest of your family. We don’t want to see you suffer any more, Ville.”

And there came the guilt. He had been so focused on just trying to get back to a normal life that he sometimes forgot how his attempts were affecting his family. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, letting out a deep breath. “I’ll try to do better. So if I could just…”

Norell swatted away his hand as he reached for his prosthetic. “Nice try, but I’m monitoring your usage of this,” she informed him. “If you thought Ryker was a strict taskmaster, let me just tell you, you haven’t seen anything yet.”

Ville groaned, knowing it was his own fault for getting himself into this situation in the first place, but maybe it was for the best as he was inclined to push himself more than he should.

Chapter Text

“Well, Ville, you’re sixteen now,” Ryker remarked sitting down next to him.

He shrugged, pausing the sketch he had been working on of the children playing, and said, “Doesn’t feel any different.”

“Still, it’s an important milestone in your life,” Ryker acknowledged.

“And one that should be commemorated,” Viggo observed as he joined them, a bundle in his hands.

And that was when his brothers’ comments clicked and he understood what they were implying. His brow furrowed as he shook his head. “But Grandfather already-”

“We know,” Viggo assured him, resting a hand on his shoulder, “but this is something that we wanted to do as well.”

Ville’s brothers' words touched him more than he could express, so he settled with a simple, but heartfelt, “Thank you.”

“You haven’t even seen your gifts yet,” Ryker pointed out, one corner of his mouth tilting upwards.

“I don’t need to,” Ville reasoned. “Simply the fact that you’re doing this means the world to me.”

“You mean the world to us, Vilhehn,” Viggo said, responding in kind with Ryker adding his agreement. “Now, as for your gift of something new, it is from the both of us,” he explained, passing Ville the bundle he had been carrying,

“What is it,” Ville inquired curiously.

Ryker smirked. “Why don’t you open it and find out yourself?”

Ville grinned and undid the wrappings to find a set of fireproof leather armor. Vest, pauldrons, and vambraces were all made of the darkest black, a color only achieved with Toothless’ scales, with delicate scale detailing in a deep red, complete with the Stormheart’s tribal crest on the right pauldron. “It’s perfect,” he proclaimed, his face lighting up as he realized the significance of the design. “And the colors…

“Match the belt Grandfather gave you,” Viggo finished, smiling back at him. “It made sense to complete the set.”

“I can’t wait to wear it,” he declared earnestly. “Thank you! Thank you both!”

“We are not done yet,” Viggo reminded him. “As Ryker is the eldest, I will allow him to present you with his gift first.”

Ville turned to his oldest brother and watched as he removed a sword from the scabbard on his back and passed it to him. He had not even realized that it was not one of Ryker’s usual weapons until he was passing it to him. He could see that it was not of the finest quality, but he was sure there was some significance to it, so he waited patiently for his brother to speak.

“This was the first, and only sword I ever made,” Ryker revealed, causing Ville’s jaw to drop in shock.

“You worked in the forge,” he asked incredulously, having never heard about this before.

“For a bit,” his brother divulged, “until I discovered I preferred wielding weapons to making them.” Ryker shrugged before tapping the sword’s blade. “This is to remind you that not everything you do is going to turn out perfect. Maybe you just need some more practice, or maybe you need to approach things from another angle, but, no matter what, always keep pushing forward.”

“Thank you, Ryker,” Ville responded, carefully laying the sword across his lap. “I’ll craft a mount so I can hang it on my wall.”

“As for my gift,” Viggo said, drawing Ville’s attention from one brother to the other, “this is one of my journals from when I was younger.” He passed the book to Ville and he immediately began flipping through it. “I came across it a few years ago and held onto it for this occasion. I thought you might appreciate seeing how similar our minds work.”

Ryker snorted in amusement. “That’s an understatement.”

Ville, though, was more focused on the drawings he was seeing in Viggo’s journal “You created inventions, too?”

“I thought of some,” Viggo admitted, “but did not always have the proper skill set or the spare time to turn my dreams into realities. My successes were…varied.”

Ryker laughed at that and reached out to ruffle Ville’s hair. “Let’s just say that you’re not the only one who caused a fair share of destruction in his youth.”

Ville was shocked to note Viggo’s embarrassment at their oldest brother’s declaration and he couldn’t resist the urge to grin and say, “I bet Grandfather was not too pleased.”

“That would be an understatement,” Viggo conceded, a slight smile hovering on his lips. Gesturing to the old journal, he said, “There is probably little of worth there, but perhaps you will find something to inspire one of your creations. Do not expect too much, though.”

Ville rolled his eyes. “I doubt it will be that dull,” he commented, thinking that Viggo’s thoughts from when he was younger were sure to be entertaining at the very least. Still, he truly treasured this chance to get a better insight into what his brother was like when he was younger. 

“Thank you,” he said again, looking back and forth between Viggo and Ryker. “Thank you both so much! I don’t know what I did to deserve you as my family, but it is something I am grateful for every day.”

Viggo pulled him in for a hug. “You have been through so much in your life, your younger years and these past months especially, and though we know it has not always been easy, you have always managed to rise above. We could not be prouder than to call you our brother.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself,” Ryker proclaimed, causing Ville’s heart to practically burst with love for his family.

-o0o-

“Come on Viggo,” Ville begged. “Just a brief flight with me before you start Chiefing for the day. That’s all I’m asking.”

His brother looked at him skeptically as he took a bite of his breakfast. After swallowing, he said, “Why do I have I feeling that there is more to this than you are telling me?”

“Because he is not normally this persistent,” Heddi chimed in from where she was wiping off Niko’s messy hands.

“So, I may have finished working on my latest project,” he admitted, “and I want to show you how it works. It won’t take long, I promise.”

Viggo stared at him for a minute before reluctantly giving in. “I suppose I can spare a few minutes.”

“Can I come, too,” Elisabet requested, looking back and forth between Ville and her father.

Viggo glanced at him, the question in his gaze clear to Ville. “I don’t mind,” he shrugged.

“Alright, Elisabet,” Viggo agreed, causing the little girl to bounce in her seat. “You have to finish your breakfast first, though, dear.”

It didn’t take too long for her to finish and they were soon off, flying in the brisk spring air above Tulva.

Ville was pulled from his thought of what a lovely day it was by his brother saying, “Now that we are up here, would you care to explain why?”

“Just watch,” he called out, urging Toothless into a climb. Once they had reached a sufficient altitude, the Night Fury leveled off and Ville dove off his back. The two of them freefell for a moment before Vilhehn spread out his arms, allowing the wind to catch his leather wings. As he rose with the current, he let out a draconic shout of joy, reveling in the feeling of flying on his own.

It had been a long winter, made even longer by his recovery from the battle with the dragon Queen. During the process of learning how to walk with his prosthetic, there were points when he was about ready to give up, thinking that it would be so much easier if he could just fly. And thus, the idea for his flightsuit was born. It had taken a few attempts, made and tested away from prying eyes, but he had finally gotten it to work. He had some ideas for a couple of improvements, or maybe a way to incorporate it into his everyday armor, but getting it to work was such a huge step in the right direction that he just had to share it with someone…well, other than Toothless that is.

After riding the air currents for a few minutes, Toothless scooped him up and Rynnätä was soon at their side. Elisabet was clapping but Viggo was looking less than thrilled.

“I sincerely wish you would stop jumping off dragons midair,” he commented.

“But it’s so much fun,” Ville said in his defense. “And you have to admit, the wings work really well.”

“And puts the wrong kind of ideas in the children’s heads,” Viggo countered.

“I can make them flight suits of their own,” Ville proposed, though his brother’s death glare encouraged him to hastily add, “When they’re old enough, of course.”

Viggo’s eyes narrowed, clearly wishing that all jumping off dragons would cease to exist, whether the wings made it safer or not. “Let us wait and see if you are still alive by then,” he proposed, “considering your daredevil habits.”

Toothless warbled in agreement, causing Ville to protest.

“I have to practice,” he declared emphatically. “Otherwise, how will I be able to use them in an emergency, like if I get tossed off of you or something.”

Toothless grumbled but reluctantly agreed that they could have their use.

“See,” Ville grinned smugly at his brother, conveniently forgetting to mention all the times Toothless had to catch him on their practice runs which was probably why the Night Fury was so wary in the first place. “They do have their use.”

Chapter Text

“Now that is a sword,” Dagur declared as he admired Inferno.

It had been another idea Ville had while he was laid up and was one of the first he set to work on once he was allowed back into the forge. There had been several models, each an improvement on the last, but he was quite pleased with this latest variation and did not think he’d be making many more tweaks.

“It is pretty cool, isn’t it,” Ville agreed, expertly twirling the flaming sword. “Not great as far as sharpness goes, but it is intimidating. And more importantly, it’s great for calming down dragons.” He collapsed the blade to extinguish the flame and put it back in its holster on his leg. “But come on,” he said, gesturing for Dagur to follow him toward the Great Hall. “The others are waiting for us and you’re here for such a short time. We need to make the most of it.”

Heather was already with the others, having ditched her brother to go talk with Marja and Viivi, and, as Akseli was just exiting the Great Hall with a loaded basket, it looked like they were ready to go.

Everyone mounted up and they were soon off, diving and spinning over the ocean in search of an island to spend the day on. Ville had explored some of the surrounding areas already, but today they were heading south, a direction that not much was known about. He had looked at his brothers’ maps and seen that there were one or two islands in the vicinity, but not much was known about them. He hoped that maybe they would be able to find something interesting, perhaps meet some new dragons, but even if they didn’t, he was sure he and his friends would have a good time.

They passed the two islands they were aware of, deciding to push just a little further in search of something new. If they found nothing, then they would circle back.

They were about to give up and turn around when a moderately sized island appeared on the horizon. When they got closer, though, Ville started hearing what sounded like dragon cries, but something about it seemed…off.

He leaned closer to Toothless’ ears and whispered, “Hey bud, do you hear that? It sounds…strange…”

“It does,” the Night Fury agreed. “We’d best leave it alone and go back to one of those other islands.”

“But what if it’s an injured dragon,” Ville asked. He was still a bit on edge, but he didn’t feel right not checking things out.

“I suppose, but warn the others to be careful,” he replied. “That goes for you, too.”

“When am I not careful,” Ville responded, only for Toothless to huff moodily and whack him with one of his ear nubs. He just laughed and called out to his friends, warning them to watch their back as the island they were approaching might not be safe.

“That’s not anything new,” Viivi pointed out with a roll of her eyes.

“No, I suppose not,” he admitted, “but something doesn’t feel right here.”

“Maybe that’s why,” Akseli said, pointing toward the approaching beach and a dragon that seemed to be the one they had heard crying.

They landed a short distance away, not wanting to get too close too fast as injured dragons could be more unpredictable. Vilhehn slowly crept forward, Toothless at his side, and noted that the dragon was not one he recognized. It did not seem particularly big, but he knew that small dragons could be just as fierce as large ones.

“Hey there, little guy,” he crooned softly. “You okay?”

“Help! Help!”

But there was something lacking in the dragon’s voice…there was no pain or fear, as if he was only pretending…but why? It was then that Ville heard other noises, off in the bushes.

“Much to feast.”

“Alpha will be pleased.”

“I don’t like this,” he murmured to Toothless.

“Me, either,” his best friend responded.

They had reason to be wary as, just then, two more dragons of the same species burst out of the bushes, snarling at them aggressively as the supposedly injured dragon jumped to his feet and joined them.

“Whoa, you’re most definitely not hurt,” Ville exclaimed, backing up a few steps as Toothless fired at their attackers. Normally, he would try to reason with the dragons, but considering how they had lured them in, only to attack, he did not have high hopes that they would listen. As it was, he was not given a chance as Toothless and the other dragons scared them off. The entire encounter left him feeling rather unsettled, as if the encounter was not truly over. 

“What was that,” Akseli demanded as Sitchen landed at Ville’s side.

“I don’t know,” he answered. “I’ve never seen anything like them in the dragon encyclopedia.” Mounting Toothless, he said, “As much as I would love to investigate further, judging by some of the things they were saying…I don’t think it’s safe for us here. We better get going.”

“Yeah, about that,” Dagur said, pointing to the approaching horde of dragons, all of the same unidentified species.

“Oh, great,” Ville muttered. “See, this- this is what I was afraid of,” he declared, gesturing dramatically as the attacking dragons started shooting explosive fireballs. “And it just keeps getting better,” he groaned. “Evasive maneuvers, everyone! We need to lose these guys.”

“Can’t you reason with them,” Viivi shrieked as Heila fired at one of the dragons that had gotten just a little too close.

“I would love to,” Ville shouted back, “but it doesn’t look like they’re going to give me a chance.”

“Try anyway,” Dagur yelled as Sleuther went into a deep dive, two of the dragons on his tail.

Ville scratched just behind Toothless’ ear. “You heard ‘em, bud. Get me in close,” he requested.

Toothless fired a blast at the nearest attacking dragons, effectively getting their attention, though not in the way Ville had hoped for.

“Hey, guys,” he greeted them, trying to keep his tone as friendly as possible despite the fact that they were being chased. “We honestly didn’t mean to trespass on your territory. We were only trying to-” He cut himself short as Toothless took a sharp turn in order to avoid one of the fireballs. “Yup, that’s not working,” he said to himself as Toothless barrel rolled past Iloa.

He could hear the Hobblegrunt, murmuring, “So, so mad,” and it gave him an idea.

“Iloa, can you calm them,” he called out.

She shook her head, flying frantically in an effort to keep Marja safe. “Too mad. Too, too mad,” she trilled, her colors flickering wildly.

“Well, there went that idea,” he commented drily.

“Ville, there’s too many of them,” Heather shouted, holding on tight as Windshear zipped past them.

Marja nodded, looking as panicked as her dragon. “We need to retreat.”

He looked around, trying to take stock of the situation as quickly as he could. “Yeah, and that would be great, but how do we know they won’t follow us?” There was no way he was leading these guys back to Tulva. Strangely enough, all of a sudden, the situation changed. The dragons had been progressively boxing them in, but unexpectedly, they all dove for the forest. “What in the-?”

“Where are they going,” Akseli queried, voicing the question they were all thinking.

But then, Ville saw the answer. “LOOK OUT!”

Their dragons dispersed just in time, barely missing the jaws of the larger dragon that seemed to have appeared out of thin air.

“They had mentioned an Alpha,” Ville explained, beginning to put the pieces together. “That must-”

Before he could finish his sentence though, the large dragon let out a powerful roar, causing all the riders to cover their ears in an attempt to block it. Even the dragons were struggling, seeming to be disoriented by it.

But that was the least of their worries, as the roar appeared to also be a call for the smaller dragons to rejoin the fight, though instead of attacking on their own, they attached themselves to their Alpha’s wings.

“This is not good,” Ville proclaimed, watching as all twelve of the smaller dragons began preparing their fire. “Go! Go! Go!”

Their dragons raced toward the other side of the island, most of them quickly getting out of range, all except for Iloa. The Hobblegrunt did not have the same speed as the others, and though she did her best to dodge the explosive projectiles, she was in the thick of it and had become the dragons’ sole focus.

Ville mentally kicked himself for not thinking of that complication and raced back, hoping to redirect the attacker’s attention, giving Iloa and Marja a chance to escape. He was not quick enough, though, as a fireball hit the Hobblegrunt’s side, knocking her out of the air and sending Marjetta flying.

Toothless put on an extra bit of speed, allowing Ville to catch Marja as Heila darted past them, grabbing Iloa in her claws just before she could hit the ground. The others had realized what was happening and returned as well, drawing the dragons’ fire so that their friends could take care of the downed dragon and rider.

Ville directed Toothless to land near where Heila had set Iloa down and as he helped Marja dismount, he asked, “Are you okay?”

She nodded shakily, her gaze focused on her dragon. “Yes, but what about Iloa?”

“She seems fine,” Viivi informed her, having just circled the dragon in question. “I think she just had the wind knocked out of her.”

The Hobblegrunt bobbed her head in agreement, turning yellow as she nuzzled Marja.

Viivi brought them back to reality by turning to Ville and saying, “If that’s an Alpha, then you can take it, right?”

“Maybe…” he answered hesitantly.

“You took down the dragon Queen,” she reasoned.

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, that was a little different.”

“Maybe this Alpha controls the smaller dragons in the same way,” Marja suggested softly.

“Perhaps,” Ville said absentmindedly as an idea started to take shape in his head. “Marja, find somewhere secluded for you and Iloa to hide. Her speed is not going to be enough right now. Iloa, try to keep sending out calming thoughts.”

“I’ll try,” she promised, though she was clearly doubtful it would have any effect on those predators.

“Viivi, you and Heila join the others and try to get the smaller dragons off the Alpha’s wings.”

“Got it,” she responded, remounting her Monstrous Nightmare.

“What are you going to do,” Marja inquired, a hint of concern in her voice.

“Attempt to end another dragon’s rule,” he said firmly, encouraging Toothless to take to the air.

Heather and Dagur seemed to be working together and there were already fewer of the smaller dragons than there had been. Windshear was firing at them and luring them away while Sleuther approached from behind, stinging them with his numbing venom. Akseli and Sitchen were taking a similar route, attempting to blast the smaller dragons off of the Alpha’s wings. Viivi and Heila soon joined them, the Nightmare making use of her wing blasts to send the small dragons tumbling down to the forest where they thankfully remained. Ville just hoped they weren’t anywhere near Marja and Iloa.

With his friends taking care of the last remaining small dragons, Ville and Toothless confronted the Alpha, Ville roaring, “Let this end NOW!”

“How dare you attack?!”

“Us,” Ville exclaimed incredulously. “Your subjects attacked first. We had good intentions and only approached with the intent to offer help, thinking they were injured.”

“Lies,” the Alpha bellowed. “They promised a feast and a feast we shall have. Starting with you!”

Ville’s eyes narrowed as Toothless took off, the Alpha in hot pursuit. “You know what to do, bud,” he murmured, the Night Fury barking in acknowledgment as he climbed through the air, at the same time leading the predatory dragon toward a small pond they had spotted earlier. 

Once it came into sight, Toothless dove right for it and fired at the water, the resulting misty haze making it impossible to see how close they were to the surface. Impossible for anyone other than a Night Fury that is. Toothless used his echolocation and swerved at the last minute, but the Alpha was not so fortunate, crashing with significant force.

Ville wasn’t sure if it had killed the dragon or not, but it was at least unconscious…for now. It was the best they could do, though, as their fire had not made an impact on the Alpha’s hide and, not having fire itself, there was no way for them to make him explode like they had done with the dragon Queen.

They returned to where they had left their friends, relieved to see that all the smaller dragons were gone, though for how long was anyone’s guess. Marja and Iloa had already left their hiding spot and all were quick to agree that it was time to leave, not wanting to have to deal with those dragons again.

As they flew back in the direction from which they came, Akseli said, “I just hope those guys aren’t trackers.”

“Considering how they attempted to lure in their prey, I think it’s highly unlikely,” Ville remarked. “I’ll still let Viggo know, just in case. We had best remain on high alert, though at least they wouldn’t stand a chance against our entire flock.”

The happy mood from earlier had been ruined, and after their ordeal, all agreed it was a good idea to go straight home. They would have their picnic on Tulva instead, allowing them to warn their people in case of an imminent attack.

Thankfully, the horrible dragons seemed to have remained on their island, one which was added to their maps with a note to never stop there, no matter how desperate you were.

Chapter Text

“Ville! Ville!”

He looked over his shoulder to see Stormfly landing in front of the forge.

“You’re needed at the stables,” she chirped, fluttering her wings.

“Is everything okay,” he asked, taking off his apron and hanging it on the hook, pulling his fur-lined coat on as he stepped outside and mounted Toothless.

“There are some new dragons, just arrived, who need your help,” she trilled as they took to the sky.

For dragons to arrive in the dead of winter was not unheard of, but it was not exactly common either. “Are they injured?”

“I don’t think so,” Stormfly replied, tilting her head, “but they have funny metal horns on their heads.”

“Metal horns,” Toothless repeated, seeming just as confused as the Nadder. Ville wasn’t in a much better position, but at least the fact they were made of metal gave him some clue that the dragons had been around humans, though most definitely not any nice ones.

“Mm-hmm,” Stormfly bobbed her head. “Come! Come!”

She led the way to the stables, and Ville resigned himself to waiting for more information until he could speak with the newcomers, as either Stormfly didn’t know any more or she just didn’t care to share, either of which were entirely possible.

As they approached, Vilhehn took note of the two Thunderclaws standing just outside the stables, one purple and the other blue, both wearing metal armor on their heads, complete with the horns Stormfly had spoken of.

Toothless came in to land, telling the dragons to join him inside the stables, repeating his offer when they seemed to hesitate. It was not currently snowing, but there was no telling how long the weather would hold, not to mention the fact that it was much warmer inside than it was outside.

The dragons guardedly followed them in and Ville was quick to speak, hoping to put them at ease. “Hello. My friend said you needed help,” he greeted, gesturing to the Nadder. “What has brought you to our island and how can we assist you?”

“My mate and I fled from a cruel Alpha and are seeking sanctuary,” the blue dragon explained, still a bit on edge.

“You are more than welcome to stay,” Ville reassured them, “but if you were part of a nest, then how-”

“Not a nest,” the purple Thunderclaw hissed, her eyes narrowing, though Ville did not miss the hint of fear she was trying to hide. “A nest is a safe place. That was not.”

“Forgive me,” Vilhehn apologized. “I did not mean to offend. Perhaps you would be willing to tell me what led you here?”

“Is our welcome dependent on it,” the female dragon inquired warily.

“No, of course not,” Ville said adamantly, beginning to wonder what exactly these poor dragons had been through.

“I told you, this would be a safe place,” her mate remarked before turning back to Ville. “If you would be so kind as to remove these human horns, I will tell you our story.”

“It’s a deal,” he happily agreed. “If you will allow me to collect a few tools first?”

The Thunderclaws bobbed their heads and, after a quick trip back to the forge, Ville got to work snapping the chains keeping the armor on. It did not take him long and once the heavy metal accoutrements were removed, the dragons gave a contented rumble and introduced themselves as they settled down in preparation to tell their tale.

“We were on an evening flight when we were pulled in by a voice promising safety and care,” Sporari began.

“It turned out to be anything but,” Seile chimed in.

“The Alpha controlled our minds,” Sporari continued. “She was led by her cruel Master and forced us to do her bidding, attacking human nests and luring more dragons to share our same fate. When not being controlled, we were chained or kept in cages, unable to escape.”

“But you did eventually,” Ville reasoned, as otherwise they would not be having this discussion right now.

“We did,” Sporari confirmed, bobbing his head. “Although the Alpha controlled us, she was at the mercy of her Master. Sometimes, when she would fail, Master would berate her, yelling insults and striking her with his stick. In those moments, her control over us would waver. We took advantage of one such opportunity, fleeing before we could be caged once again.”

“The only problem was we had no way to remove the Master’s metal horns,” Seile added, glaring balefully at the armor Ville had left piled off to their side.

“It is not something a dragon can remove, is it,” he commented sympathetically.

“No, it is not,” Sporari confirmed, “but then a Scauldron told us of you, the Dragon Master.” The two Thunderclaws exchanged a brief glance. “We were skeptical at first, not wanting to flee from one master to another, but he eventually persuaded us to head this way, assuring us that you were different.”

“We are pleased to see that he was right,” Seile said, lightly bumping his arm.

It made sense that a Scauldron had been the one to send them to Tulva as the tidal class dragons did tend to range further afield, not necessarily a part of their flock, but always welcome and willing to help if asked.

“I am glad you came and that I was able to perform this service for you,” Ville responded sincerely. “You are welcome to stay or come and go as you please. The choice is up to you.”

“We shall remain, for now at least,” Sporari informed him. “Thank you, Dragon Master.”

“You are more than welcome,” he replied. “And please, my name is Ville.”

“Thank you, Ville.”

He nodded in acknowledgment and gestured toward the discarded dragon armor. “I will see that these are disposed of, though I hope you won’t mind if they stay here for now. I would like to examine them closer, as this Alpha and her Master that you speak of could pose a threat to our flock.”

The Thunderclaws were agreeable, stating that as long as they were not wearing it, they didn’t care where it was.

Before Ville left them to rest, he asked one last question. “By any chance, did you ever hear a name used in connection with your former Alpha’s Master or do you know where his nest was?”

“The human tongue is a strange one,” Sporari observed, a thoughtful look on his face. “It often sounded as though he was called ‘Dragon,’ but I do not know why. And there was no one place we stayed. The nest was constantly on the move.”

“Hmm, interesting,” he murmured. “Thank you.”

As the two dragons moved further into the stables, Ville set about taking a closer look at the armor they had been wearing. It seemed to be made of a standard iron, nothing special, and the workmanship was adequate. What caught his eye, though was a small insignia, perhaps a tribal crest, that had been crudely etched into the metal. He copied the design into his journal and, noting that the snow he had been expecting had arrived, hurried back toward the village.

The flurries were still relatively light, so Ville headed toward the Archives, hoping to catch his brother there as that morning Viggo had stated his intent to check some of the records.

Sure enough, his brother’s whole family was there, along with Norell and her children. He quickly said hello to his nieces and nephew, leaving Toothless to entertain them as he continued on toward his brother.

“Viggo, have you seen this before,” he inquired, passing him his journal and pointing to the sketch he had made.

His brother looked at it closely before shaking his head. “Never. Where did you come across this?”

“Some dragons seeking sanctuary,” he explained. “They were wearing metal armor which they needed help removing. It seems they fled from a Bewilderbeast and her master, the latter of which sounded absolutely horrible, ordering attacks to pillage village after village.”

A gasp from behind sent him whirling around, an apology on his lips as he caught sight of his shocked sister. “I’m so sorry, Norell,” he hastened to say, appalled at the effect his choice of words had caused. “I didn’t mean-”

“Show me,” she broke in, a hint of steel in her voice.

Ville blinked a few times, not believing what he had heard. “What?”

“The crest or insignia,” she clarified, stepping closer. “Whatever it is you found.”

He took his journal from Viggo’s outstretched hand and passed it to her, noting how she seemed to stiffen as her gaze landed on the sketch. “Do you recognize it?”

“Yes,” she nodded slowly. “Ryden and I saw it on a few items that had been left behind. A weapon or two, a torn sail, that kind of thing. These were the ones who attacked the Frostwolves.”

“Were the dragons able to provide you with any other information,” Viggo queried, his hands steepled in front of his mouth.

“I asked for a name,” Ville shared, “but all they could tell me was that the Alpha’s Master was called ‘dragon’ and that their nest constantly moved around.”

“Dragon… Why does that sound familiar…” Viggo leaned his head back and closed his eyes, eventually saying, “I believe Grandfather may have spoken of someone like that long ago.”

“We should look through the records,” Heddi suggested. “See what we can find.”

“Yes, and Grandfather’s journals as well,” Viggo proposed.

“Norell and I can get started here,” Heddi offered. “You two can head home and start on the journals.”

“Would you like us to take the children with us,” Ville asked, glancing toward where the kids were all piled on top of Toothless, the Night Fury dramatically moaning as if they had pinned him to the floor.

Heddi smiled at the sight. “That would be a good idea, just in case the weather worsens.”

Viggo scooped up Niko and called for his Terrible Terror who had been perched in a corner of the room. “Apuri, keep an eye on the weather and warn the girls if they need to head home.”

The little dragon chirped and perched closer to the door, taking his assignment seriously. Ville managed to carry a twin in each arm, though it wasn’t as easy now that they had turned three, and with Elisabet riding on Toothless’ back, the small party set out for home.

The children settled happily in front of the fire, playing a lively game of ‘Toothless Says’ as Viggo and Ville poured over their grandfather’s journals, Ryker joining them in their endeavor when he arrived home.

The wind was just starting to pick up when Ville excitedly declared, “I found it!”

“Are you certain,” Viggo pressed.

“It has to be. Look.” He held out the journal and pointed to the pertinent parts. “‘Drago Bludvist…wants to rule the world…supposedly wiped out an entire gathering of Chiefs with his dragon army.’ If he did that, then it stands to reason he would have no compunction destroying whole villages either.”

“I do believe you are right,” Viggo concurred, taking the journal to see if there was anything more stated therein.

Ville put his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his hand. “The only question now is what do we do with this information.”

“We fortify the island further,” Ryker said, a look of determination on his face.

Viggo nodded slowly. “It is all we can do right now.”

“On the bright side, I don’t think this Drago is aware of us,” Ville commented, causing his brothers to look at him in confusion.

“What makes you say that,” Viggo inquired.

“The dragons who came seeking sanctuary only heard about me due to a wild Scauldron,” he divulged. “They themselves admitted they weren’t too familiar with human speech, but dragons are notorious gossips. If Drago had heard of us-”

“Or more specifically, you,” Ryker interjected.

“-or me,” Ville reluctantly acknowledged, “then there would have been talk that some dragon was bound to overhear. And if one heard it-”

“-then they all would have known,” Viggo finished.

“Exactly.”

“Still, strengthening our defenses would not go amiss,” Viggo claimed. “We will need to begin drawing up plans so we can start construction once the cold season is past us. Ville, are you up to creating some new defensive mechanisms for us?”

“Always,” he grinned, a few ideas already hovering in the back of his mind.

Chapter Text

“I still believe it would be best if you took a ship,” Viggo stated firmly.

Ville just rolled his eyes. “But if we go by dragon, we can be there and back in just a few days.”

“And with a ship you, would have more support,” his brother reasoned.

“But the support is needed here as we strengthen our defenses,” Ville pointed out, gesturing to the ongoing construction.

His bags were already packed and loaded, as were Ryker’s, and all this discussion was doing was delaying their departure. He loved his brothers dearly, but he felt like sometimes they forgot that he was seventeen now, wanting to protect him like he was still a little kid. At least this time it was only one brother he had to convince, but still.

“It’s just one dragon, Viggo, and from the sound of things, a young one at that. I have my Stinger darts I can use as a last resort, but I really don’t think we need a bigger party.”

“And how do you think the Chief of Skog will react to you flying in on dragonback,” Viggo inquired skeptically.

“Well, he did write to you requesting the Dragon Master’s help, so it shouldn’t come as that big of a surprise,” he replied drily.

“And if it does, then they’re dumber than I thought,” Ryker commented under his breath, causing Ville to grin.

Viggo’s eyes narrowed, still not entirely pleased with their plan of how to deal with the situation. “You have taken into account that this is a Death Song you are going up against?”

Ville nodded. “Moss earplugs for the dragons,” he said, holding one up. “They won’t hear a thing. Not like Toothless needs another reason not to listen to me,” he muttered, shooting the Night Fury a playful glare.

“Pretty sure that problem is normally the other way around,” Ryker smirked, resulting in a throaty laugh from Toothless, who clearly agreed.

“Whatever,” he grumbled, not wanting to admit to the full number of scrapes he’d gotten into because he hadn’t listened to his dragon.

Viggo was still not convinced, as was made evident by his next statement. “I would feel more comfortable about this whole situation if I were going with you.”

“Someone has to stay to keep an eye on the construction,” Ryker claimed, “and Ville’s blueprints are beyond me.”

“They’re not that complicated,” Ville protested, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Yes, they are,” Ryker maintained, before turning to Viggo. “If Ville can’t be here to explain them, then you’re the next best.”

“I may be Chief,” Viggo observed wryly, “but I am no substitute for my younger brother.”

“But you know enough about them that you can answer any questions that come up while I’m gone,” Ville declared. “And that just strengthens the argument as to why we should fly. I’ll be back even sooner so you don’t have to worry about all this,” he said, repeating his argument from earlier.

Viggo sighed in defeat, reluctantly saying, “I still do not like this, but I do not see that I have a choice.” He clapped Ryker on the back and clasped Ville’s hand firmly. “Stay safe, brothers, and I look forward to seeing you when you return.”

Ville nodded and called out a farewell as he hopped on Toothless, eager to get in the air before his brother changed his mind. Thankfully, there were no more delays and they were able to depart within a few minutes.

The Island of Skog was just over a day’s flight away, so they took their time, enjoying the journey, and finding a nice island to camp on just an hour away from their destination. It allowed them to set out after they ate breakfast the next day and arrive at the village mid-morning.

Fortunately, the people did not seem to be started by the approach of their dragons, but considering the haunting call that filled the air and the dragons that would inevitably be drawn in by it, they must have become somewhat used to the sight.

Ville made sure his helmet was on securely before tapping Toothless’ neck, giving him the go ahead to dive into the village square. That was one part of this whole thing that he agreed with his brothers about: keeping his identity hidden. Even though he was technically an adult, he was still young in the eyes of many, and if anyone discovered that, the respect he had earned as the Dragon Master would be lost. He had taken Norell’s advice to heart and crafted his persona and his armor in a way that would convey his power and strike fear in the hearts of others. His ‘daredevil tendencies,’ as his family liked to call them, definitely aided in that endeavor, he thought as he separated from Toothless and used the flight suit built into his armor to glide down next to his dragon, drawing all attention to them.

He landed in a crouch, thankful that all his practice had paid off so that he didn’t faceplant, and spoke to the gathering crowd. “I do believe Chief Axel sent for me?”

A broad-shouldered man with dark hair stepped through the throng, presumably the man he was looking for. “And who might you be,” he asked imperiously.

“The Dragon Master,” he stated simply, Toothless curling his tail around him protectively.

That statement had an immediate effect on the people of Skog, their defensiveness tuning to deference.

“Forgive me for not realizing that sooner, sir,” Chief Axel apologized as he bowed, the one-eighty making it hard for Ville not to laugh. “The constant screech of that dragon is driving us all mad.”

“It is no bother,” he reassured the Chief. Gesturing to his brother who up until this point seemed to have gone unnoticed, he said, “You are familiar with my companion?”

“Yes,” Axel nodded, warily stepping around Ville and Toothless to shake the other man’s hand. “Good to see you again, Ryker. You ride one of the beasts as well,” he inquired skeptically.

“I asked him to accompany me, in case another hand was needed,” Ville spoke up, sticking to the story they had agreed on. “We had debated taking a ship, but traveling via dragon is much quicker and, as Kuori did not mind, we took the more expedient route.” Not wanting to go into any more detail, he quickly changed the subject. “Could you tell me a bit about what is going on here?”

The Chief gestured for him to follow and started walking through the village as he explained. “The dragon just appeared out of nowhere, seeming to claim the forest as its own. A few of our men went to try and finish off the beast, but all who approach are covered in this amber-like substance,” he gestured to where a few men were propped up under an awning. “We’ve managed to get our warriors away while the dragon was distracted, but we can’t get them out.”

While Ville had done extensive research on the Death Song, he had never seen one or its amber. He stepped closer for a better look, trying not to let his anger flare at the thought of these men attempting to kill such a rare dragon, and tapped the surface with his knuckles as Toothless attempted to bite a small chunk off with no success. “Hmm, hard as a rock. I assume it spat out as a liquid?” 

“Yes, but it hardened so quickly…”

Whatever else the Chief said was lost on Ville as an idea had taken root in his mind. “I might have a potential solution,” he told the Chief before turning to the trapped man he was standing in front of, “but it is essential you do not panic.”

The man gazed at him warily. “What do you-”

In a smooth motion, Vilhehn grabbed Inferno and ignited it, cutting into the amber before the man had time to think. He had enough time to scream, though, and Ville wished he would stop. He rolled his eyes and reminded the so-called warrior, “I told you not to panic. I’m not even close to touching you. Now just a little bit more and…”

The amber soon shattered, the man who had been trapped inside falling to the ground, not having the strength to stand upright as he had been trapped for who knew how many days.

The Chief was looking at him incredulously, staring at the flaming sword with his mouth hanging open. “How…?”

Ignoring the unfinished question as he had no intention of answering it, Ville collapsed Inferno and tossed it to his brother, along with a spare canister of Nightmare gel. “Ryker, can you take care of these other men and come to an agreement with the Chief about payment while I search out the dragon?”

He nodded and held up Inferno slightly. “Nice to know you trust me with this. Signal if you need me.”

He gave his brother a casual salute before jumping on Toothless and guiding him deeper into the forest, toward the haunting call.

Chapter Text

It didn’t take long to discover what looked like a nest, but Ville had to admit he was surprised by the size of the dragon that was guardedly peeking out as they landed. The Death Song’s body was barely larger than his, and while he had been expecting the dragon to be young, perhaps an adolescent, he was not prepared to find a fledgling.

“Hello there,” he called out softly, amused by the look of shock on the dragon’s face.

“How are you not affected by my call,” the Death Song demanded, his voice confirming his youth.

“Moss earplugs,” Ville shared, scratching around Toothless’ ears before dismounting, keeping an eye on the dragon as he did so.

The fledgling tilted his head. “But you hear me and are fine.”

“I’m not a dragon,” he confessed, removing his helmet and shaking out his hair.

The Death Song cautiously crept out of his nest. “But you speak our tongue…”

“Learned it when I was a fledgling,” he revealed, sitting on the ground to make himself less intimidating. “You’re new to this area.”

The change of topic caused the dragon to eye him warily. “This is my nest.”

Ville grimaced. “Yeah, about that. This island has already been claimed. There is already a nest here.”

“Yes, mine,” the Death Song maintained.

“No, before yours,” he explained calmly. “The humans claimed this island as their nest a long, long time ago.”

The fledgling blinked a few times before almost desperately saying, “If they do not bother me, I will not bother them.”

That caused Ville to wonder… “Do you have nowhere else to go?”

The dragon became increasingly flustered, trying to maintain its fierce facade but failing horribly. “I- That is-”

“I would like to help,” he offered, hoping the fledgling could sense his sincerity. He would have asked Toothless to vouch for him, but he wasn’t about to remove the earplugs, just in case things went south, though it was seeming less and less likely.

“My- my hunting was deemed a threat to my sire,” the Death Song murmured. “He said the island was not big enough for the both of us and banished me from my home.”

“And how did you wind up here,” Ville pressed gently.

“I flew until I could fly no longer,” the dragon disclosed, bridging the last few feet between them and sitting right in front of him. “It has everything I need, though. I do not know if I would be able to find another island so suited to me. Can’t the humans leave instead,” he practically begged.

Despite the fledgling’s claims of the suitability of the island, Ville noted that he didn’t seem to be very well fed, belying the fact that he could truly care for himself. Perhaps he hadn’t been able to lure in as many dragons as Ville had believed, which would mean that he was not even able to select a suitable environment for himself. Ignoring the dragon’s request, he responded with a question of his own. “How old are you?”

“Several moons.”

That was young, even for a Death Song. The plan was simply to relocate the dragon, but he was truly not fit to be out on his own. Viggo and Ryker would probably kill him for suggesting this, and he was sure to get an earful from Toothless as well, but… “I know of an island that might be suitable,” he proposed, “but there is one catch.”

The fledgling’s eyes narrowed as he warily asked what the catch was.

“There are many other dragons who live there,” Ville explained. “Dragons whom you would not be allowed to eat or call in with your song. There is plenty of fish, though, and some of the neighboring islands have wild boar and yaks that you could hunt. You would be able to fill your belly constantly,” he stated, thinking that would be the biggest draw for the young dragon.

He saw the flicker of longing in the Death Song’s eyes, but it was quickly tamped down. “But I have made this my home.”

“Wouldn’t you like to join me on my island,” he queried.

The dragon seemed to perk up at that, just as he had hoped. “Your island?”

The poor thing really was too young to be on his own and was clearly lonely. “Mm-hmm,” he nodded, slowly reaching out his hand and letting it hover, allowing the fledgling to decide if he wanted to be touched or not. “You would have to follow those rules, though.”

“It is tempting…” He could see that the dragon was wavering. “There would truly be plenty of food?”

“There is always an abundance of fish,” he promised, “eels especially.” While they had a few Typhoomerangs on Tulva, they hardly made a dent in the eels and it would work out well having another dragon on the island who favored them. “If the requirements are too hard, though-”

“No, I could do it,” the fledgling hastened to say, thrusting his head into Ville’s palm. “I’m just not sure if I want to.”

Seeing that the dragon just needed a little push, he stroked the Death Song’s nose horn before getting to his feet and making as if to remount Toothless, who had been watching him for the slightest signal this entire time. “If you’re not sure, then I guess won’t bother you anymore,” he said airily.

Just as he had hoped, the fledgling chased after him, bumping into his back and even going so far as to wrap his tail around Ville’s legs. “Wait! I’ll go with you! I’ll go,” he practically begged.

Ville smiled at the young dragon and scratched his chin in that spot that every species seemed to love. “I would like that,” he said softly. “Are you ready to go now? We can see about finding you something to eat along the way.”

The Death Song bobbed its head eagerly and, after Ville put his helmet back on and removed Toothless’ earplugs, they returned to the village, their new companion drawing gasps from the people gathered there.

Catching sight of his brother, Ville said, “Everything taken care of?”

“All done here,” Ryker nodded, tapping the pouch on his belt where their payment would be stored and mounting Kuori, ready for their departure.

“We will be taking the Death Song with us and relocating him,” Ville announced to the village. “I promise he will not bother you again.”

“Thank you, Dragon Master,” Chief Axel bowed. “We appreciate your assistance.”

Ville nodded regally in return, figuring he may as well live up to their perception of him, and encouraged Toothless to take to the sky, the Death Song and Kuori close behind.

Once the island was nothing more than a speck in the distance, Ville removed his helmet, preferring to feel the wind in his hair as they traveled at an easy speed.

Ryker took the opportunity to jerk his thumb toward the Death Song and inquire, “Where are we taking him?”

Ville rubbed the back of his neck and smiled guiltily. “So, about that…”

His brother groaned and ran his hand down his face. “And how exactly are you planning on explaining this to Viggo?”

“Eh, I’ll figure something out,” he declared, waving his hand dismissively.

Chapter Text

Ville’s family were sitting on their front porch after dinner, enjoying the cool summer evening as the children played nearby.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Ville declared, reaching into the hidden pocket of his leather vest and pulling out a piece of parchment that he passed to Viggo. “Dagur enclosed this note for you with his latest letter.”

“Thank you,” Viggo said, closing his book and promptly opening the missive. “Hmmm…”

“Is everything okay,” Heddi asked, looking up from the game of Maces and Talons that she and Ville were engaged in.

“Oswald broke his leg and would prefer not to make the long journey with his injury,” Viggo shared. “He was wondering if we would be willing to travel to Berserker Island for the treaty signing even though it is not our year to do so.”

“Will that be an issue,” Norell inquired, momentarily pausing her knitting.

“No, I do not believe so,” Viggo responded thoughtfully. “It is the other matter that has me concerned.”

“What other matter,” Ryker pressed.

Viggo held up a smaller piece of parchment that was still sealed. “He has enclosed a request for help for the Dragon Master.”

Ville’s brow furrowed. “He knows it’s me. Why didn’t he just-”

“It is not from a Berserker,” Viggo clarified. He took a deep breath before revealing, “It is from Berk.”

“What do they want,” Ryker growled, clearly offended that Ville’s old home dared to reach out to them, though they had no reason to know how much they were despised by the Stormhearts.

Hoping to lighten the tensions that were quickly rising, Ville said, “The dragon Queen has been gone for years. They shouldn’t have any issues that would need my help.”

“As the missive is addressed to you, perhaps you would like to read it yourself,” Viggo offered, holding the parchment out for Ville to take. “If you would rather not, I can-”

“No,” Ville said, hesitantly accepting the folded parchment. “It’s okay.” He tentatively broke the seal, stealing himself as his gaze swept over his former father’s handwriting. “They have reason to believe a flock of Whispering Deaths have nested under Berk,” he disclosed, “but whenever they explore the tunnels, they are unable to find anything.” Ville absentmindedly tapped the parchment against the table, pondering over the issue. “It’s not common, but Whispering Deaths do sometimes rotate amongst two or more homes.”

“We do not have to accede to their request for aide,” Viggo reminded him.

The thought left him with a sour feeling in his stomach, even though it was tempting. “I’ve never turned anyone down before. Wouldn’t it be strange to start now?”

“We could come up with some excuse,” Heddi assured him, resting her hand on his arm.

“I’d be happy leaving them to their own devices,” Ryker chimed in. He ran his whetstone along his sword’s edge and examined the blade, muttering, “They deserve far worse, in my opinion.”

“I do not disagree with you, brother,” Viggo remarked, “but I believe this matter is up to Ville.” He turned to look at his youngest brother and added, “We will support you in whatever you decide.”

Ville nodded his thanks, as he tried to decide what to do. It wasn’t like he wanted to return to the place where he had been born, far from it. But so much time had passed and there were the dragons to think about…

“Berk is my past, but they have no hold over me any longer,” he finally said. “If we don’t do anything, I am sure they will eventually find and kill innocent dragons. I don’t want that to happen when it’s something I could prevent.” He took a breath, firming his resolve, and continued. “I’ll go, but I hope it won’t take long to resolve. From the look of things, though, it might take a week or two. I can travel with you to Berserker Island and depart from there, if that’s okay?”

Ryker stared at him incredulously. “What’s not okay is the fact that you think we’re letting you go back there on your own!”

“Ryker is correct,” Viggo stated resolutely. “If we are doing this, we are doing it as a family. We will not leave you at the mercy of the Berkians.”

“It’s not like I’d be on my own,” Ville reasoned. “I was planning on bringing extra dragons for backup.”

Norell quirked an eyebrow. “Against the Whispering Deaths or the Berkians?”

“Both?” Ville shrugged. He honestly wasn’t sure who would prove more of a threat, but he had not been planning on entering what may as well be enemy territory without reinforcements. He would not object to his family joining him, in fact, he would prefer it, but he also did not want them to feel obligated. “I was going to ask Karl and Loni,” he explained, “as well as Raske and a few members of his pack. Probably Hookfang and Garff, too.”

“Are you sure about Garff,” Viggo queried skeptically.

Ville nodded. “He’s mature enough. It’s been almost a year since I brought him back and his amber would come in handy if the Whispering Deaths are stubborn and we need to immobilize them.” He paused for a moment and murmured, “Maybe I should add Barf and Belch as well. Then I can refuel both sets of canisters for Inferno if needed.”

“While the dragons would be an excellent addition, we are still coming,” Viggo maintained. “I do not trust the Berkians to not attempt something underhanded.”

“My da-” Ville cut himself off and shook his head, not having thought of the man in that way for years, and yet, somehow, this situation was bringing back a lot of memories. Getting back on track, he said, “The Chief was generally fair in his dealings with others.”

He had hoped to provide some reassurance that it would not be as bad as they were expecting, but apparently, he was not very successful.

Ryker snorted. “As long as they weren’t family,” he grumbled under his breath.

“Well…” Ville trailed off and shrugged, as his brother did have a point. There was no reason for anyone to know who he was though, so they should be fine.

“We will give them the benefit of the doubt,” Viggo conceded, “but if they step one foot out of line, they will be sorry they ever crossed us.”

“As it is, I do believe we should charge double our standard fee,” Ryker grinned wolfishly, Viggo smirking in response.

“An excellent suggestion, brother,” he agreed. “They are not exactly in a position to bargain, now are they? We may as well extract our pound of flesh for what they put Ville through. It will line his pockets nicely.”

Ville glanced back and forth between his brothers, protesting, “But the money goes into Tulva’s coffers.”

“Not this time, Ville,” Viggo insisted. “The full payment will go to you.”

He shook his head, believing it was not necessary. “I couldn’t,” he declared emphatically. “I have more than enough from my work at the forge and-”

“And you deserve some form of remuneration from Berk for all that they did,” Viggo claimed. “I will not be swayed, so you might as well save your breath. Now, as for our plans for departure.” He turned to Ryker and they began discussing how long it would take to prepare their ship and collect sufficient crew, pulling Norell into the discussion to get her opinion on whether Ryden would be back before they left and could watch over things while they were gone.

Ville resumed his game with Heddi but quickly lost as his thoughts were distracted by the prospect of returning to Berk. He wouldn’t mind seeing Gobber again, or even Gothi, but the rest… well, the less said on that subject the better.

He determined to put all thoughts of his past out of his mind and to approach the situation as if it was just another request for help from a tribe that he was not particularly familiar with. With that settled, he reset the game board, and this time, he was able to thoroughly trounce his sister. 

Chapter Text

Ville had to admit he was surprised to see Oswald at the docks when they arrived on Berserker Island. He was no stranger to using crutches and knew what a pain it was using them on uneven surfaces, but then again, some customs are hard to break. Even though they would have had no issue if the Berserker Chief had not been there to greet them, he was sure that there might be others who would have taken great offense.

As they disembarked, Viggo called out a greeting. “Oswald! It is good to see you.”

The Berserker Chief returned the sentiment before saying, “I apologize for the change in plans, but it seemed fortuitous with the request from Berk as well. After all, if you would already be coming this way, you could kill two birds with one stone.”

The children raced past them, and Ville spared them a brief glance, making sure Toothless and Rynnätä were following to keep an eye on them, before turning to Oswald and asking, “How did Berk know to get in contact with me through you, anyway?”

“The stories of your mastery over the dragons are not uncommon in this area,” he revealed, “and Dagur can’t help adding his two cents, bragging about being your friend and how amazing you are.”

Ville sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I wish he’d stop.”

“Yes, well, that is something you will have to discuss with him,” Oswald remarked wryly. “There were a few matters that I requested he take care of for me, and they seem to be taking longer than expected, but I am sure he will be meeting us at the Great Hall.” He gestured with one of his crutches for them to take the lead and said, “I am assuming that with the additional stop, your stay here will be brief?”

“That is the plan,” Viggo confirmed, “though if Heddi and Norell, along with the children, could stay while we travel to Berk, it would be appreciated.”

Heddi stopped short, and Ville was incredibly glad he was not the one at the other end of her glare. “Excuse me? And when were you planning on telling us about this,” she demanded of her husband, gesturing between herself and Norell, who was also wearing a rather fierce expression.

Viggo held out his hands in a placating manner. “Dear, you cannot expect us to take the children to Berk and-”

“I can watch them,” Heather volunteered, having joined them as they were leaving the docks.

“We would not want to impose,” Viggo claimed, but Heather was quick to assure him that it would not be a problem.

Ville held back a snicker as Heddi further reasoned, “Ville did say it might take a week or two, but Berk is not so far away that we can’t fly back for a day here and there.”

“It would be much safer if you were to stay here as well,” Viggo maintained.

“Ville is as much my family as he is yours,” Heddi argued, “and if you think there’s any way I’m staying behind, you are sorely mistaken.”

Ryker glanced toward Norell and raised one eyebrow. “Should I even bother?”

“Save your breath,” Norell shot back, flipping one of her braids over her shoulder.

While Ryker was quick to back down, seeming resigned to the girls accompanying them, Ville could not say the same about Viggo.

“Are you sure, Heather,” the Chief of the Stormhearts’ said skeptically. “It is not an insignificant amount of time, and they can be a rather rambunctious lot.”

That was putting it mildly, Ville thought, but then again, he had probably gotten into more mischief than his nieces and nephews, especially once he had become a Grimborn. He really couldn’t blame Viggo for wanting to be sure as it was a lot for Heather to take on. At almost eight years old, Elisabet was normally willing to help with her little brother and the twins, but at almost five and four and a half respectively, the youngsters got bored easily and needed constant entertainment.

“We’ll be fine,” Heather assured them. “After all, I am their honorary aunt.”

Ville could tell his brother was loathe to accept this change to their plans, but he graciously accepted the Berserker’s offer. “Thank you, Heather. We will leave Apuri and Verja with you, and if you have any need of us-”

“I will be sure to send a message,” she finished. “If it makes it easier, we can collect their things now, and they can get settled in at our house tonight. Is that alright, Dad?”

“Of course,” Oswald smiled at his daughter. As they watched the girls make their way back to the ship, the Berserker Chief added, “It will be nice to have some children around the house, especially as Dagur has not seen fit to settle down and provide me with grandchildren yet.”

“He is but twenty-one,” Viggo rationalized. “I did not marry until I was twenty-two and Ryker was twenty-eight. I am sure he will find someone eventually.”

“Yes, but when,” Oswald grumbled good-naturedly, resuming their trek to the Great Hall.

The signing of the treaty was quickly taken care of and the rest of the day passed pleasantly. Ville always enjoyed the time he got to spend with his friend, though this visit was all too short.

With the children already settled at Oswald’s house, they had an early night, allowing the Stormhearts to set off for Berk an hour before sunrise. Their ship was made for speed, and as dawn approached, they were already ahead of schedule, making it so they should arrive just past noon.

Ville had perched up on one of the masts along with Toothless, enjoying the endless view of the ocean, when they spotted Sleuther approaching. Mind instantly spiraling into thoughts of what could have gone wrong, particularly with the kids, Ville slipped his arms into his flightsuit and glided down to the deck, landing at the same time as the Triple Stryke.

He rushed over to his friend, the words falling from his mouth. “Dagur, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

“Everything is not okay,” he responded testily, crossing his arms. “You left without me!”

“What?!”

“Need I remind you that I’m the one who actually smuggled you out of Berk,” Dagur glowered. “Why you would even think I’d let you go back there without me is-”

“Dagur, it’s not like I’m by myself,” Ville declared, interrupting his friend’s rant. “I have my brothers and their wives, not to mention the crew and a small horde of some of the most fearsome dragons.”

“I’m still coming,” Dagur insisted as he dismounted.

Ville ran a hand down his face in frustration, knowing that once his friend made up his mind, it was practically impossible to dissuade him. There was only one way to get him to head back to Berserker Island. He doubted it would work, but it was worth a try. “It’s Ryker’s ship,” he stated, “so you’ll have to get permission from him and Viggo if you want to join us.”

“Piece of cake,” Dagur replied, sauntering off toward the helm.

Ville watched from where he stood as his friend approached his brothers. Sure enough, his hopes were squashed as he watched Dagur’s grin grow. Looked like his friend would be joining them. He just hoped Dagur would limit his storytelling while they were in Berk. All he wanted was to get in and resolve the issue as quickly as possible. No drama. No attention.

Far too soon, Berk appeared as a speck on the horizon. Ville was double-checking his armor and was about to mount Toothless when Heddi walked over, giving him a big hug, which he was quick to return.

Pulling back, she looked him in the eye and said, “Are you sure about this?”

He nodded firmly, pushing down the nerves that had been acting up the closer they got to his old home. “It’s been twelve years,” he acknowledged. “I’ve grown up, have a new family and a different name, and am down a foot. Plus, I’ll have my helmet on. No one’s going to recognize me.”

“And if they do,” she inquired.

“I can handle my own,” he grinned. “Plus, I know my family always has my back.”

He kissed his sister’s cheek affectionately before popping on his helmet and mounting Toothless, the Night Fury immediately taking to the sky. Up here, with the wind rushing past him, his nerves seemed to fall away, and as he glanced at the small horde of dragons assembling behind him, he thought that maybe his first time back on Berk soil wouldn’t be as bad as he had thought.

Chapter Text

As they pulled into Berk’s harbor, Viggo could not help but think it had been a good thing Oswald sent a note ahead yesterday warning the Berkians to clear one of the docks for them. It would be a tight squeeze, but they would manage. If the gobsmacked look on the gathered crowd’s faces was anything to go by, they had never seen a ship of this size before, though when you travel with dragons, it was not possible to sail in any other fashion.

After some careful maneuvering to fit in their allotted space, the crew tossed out the mooring line and let down the gangplank. Requesting that the others remain on this ship for now, Viggo and Ryker descended to meet the assembled Vikings.

One in particular stood out to Viggo, partially due to the man’s immense size, but also because he matched the description Ville had provided them, with a few minor updates Oswald had been so kind as to share. His assumption was proven true when the man stepped forward with the confidence of a Chief and walked straight up to Ryker.

“Welcome to Berk,” he greeted them. “You must be the Dragon Master.”

Boneheaded, insufferable man to make such an assumption, simply based on Ryker’s size and the fact that he was clearly a warrior. Viggo did his best to restrain his ire, noting that his elder brother was in a similar situation. There was a slight smirk hovering around the corner of his mouth, though, that Viggo knew meant he was about to enjoy putting the Berkian in his place.

“I believe it’s my brother you requested to see,” Ryker stated drily. “He should be along in a moment. He likes to make an entrance.”

Ville’s timing was impeccable as he chose that moment to zip down on Toothless, speeding across the docks and through the village with the Night Fury’s signature shriek as the rest of the dragons they had brought, minus the Speed Stingers, did their best to keep up. Toothless angled upward into a tight loop, allowing him to drop back into the harbor and land right beside them while the other dragons circled over their ship, on high alert.

Viggo watched as his brother looked over the crowd, remaining mounted on his Night Fury as he imperiously said, “I hear you requested my help.”

“You’re the Dragon Master,” Stoick asked dubiously, clearly having a hard time accepting that he had been wrong.

Ville snorted, entirely unamused, and waved his hand toward the circling dragons. “I thought that would have been obvious.”

Stoick bristled. “A little respect would be nice.”

“Yes, it would,” Ville agreed, his tone clipped and his posture incredibly tense as Toothless growled at the affront. Garff and Rynnätä were quick to detach themselves from the circling dragons and land on either side of them, the Death Song flaring his wings to make himself look larger and more intimidating while Rynn’s body crackled with electricity. “YOU are the one who asked for ME to come,” Ville reminded the witless Berkians. “If you have changed your mind, we would be happy to be on our way.”

A blonde man with two prosthetics, Ville’s blacksmith friend if Viggo did not miss his guess, stepped forward and reasoned, “Since yer already here, may as well take care of business, right, Stoick?”

The Berkian Chief looked like he had just drunk sour yak milk, but he seemed to swallow his pride, at least somewhat. “Right,” he grumbled. He opened his mouth to say more, but Ville beat him to it.

“Before this discussion goes any further, do you have any questions about the contract we sent yesterday?”

Stoick grimaced and declared, “The fee is rather excessive.”

“And what do you have to compare it to,” Ville inquired, adopting a more relaxed posture as he leaned forward in his saddle and rested one forearm just behind Toothless’ ear nubs.

“It’s worth it, Stoick,” the blonde amputee spoke up again, only for a black-haired brute to contradict him.

“Is it really, though,” the other man questioned. “We could just kill the beasts ourselves.”

Viggo’s gaze flickered toward his younger brother and noticed his tension return at the thought of killing dragons. Thankfully, it seemed the Chief was not about to take that route.

“If we could ever find them,” Stoick pointed out, his exasperation clear. Turning back to the Stormhearts, he reluctantly said, “Fine, you have a deal. I will get the signed contract to you by this evening, along with half of the fee.”

And that was where Viggo drew the line. He was not about to let some two-bit Chief attempt to pull one over on them. “Seventy-five percent of the fee,” he clarified, “as stated in the contract.”

Stoick sneered as he looked him up and down. “And who are you?”

“Viggo Grimborn,” he introduced himself, his bow so slight it could be deemed offensive. “Chief of the Stormhearts.” Gesturing to Ryker and Ville, he smirked and said, “I believe you have already met my brothers?”

The Berkian Chief simply glared at them before turning on his heel and storming back up to the village. The rest of the onlookers quickly dispersed, their unease around the dragons more than apparent. There were two men who remained though, the dark-haired dissenter and a shorter, younger man who was clearly related to him.

Viggo noted that though Ville had dismounted, he was still on his guard, clearly familiar with these two. The dragons had picked up on his disquiet as well, Toothless letting out a steady growl while Rynnätä watched the two men balefully. Garff, on the other hand, was busy nuzzling his favorite human, apparently trying to help him relax.

As Ville stroked the dragon’s flank, murmuring reassurances, the shorter of the two men stomped forward.

“What even is that,” he demanded, pointing his mace toward the Death Song.

“A dragon,” Ville responded cooly, “or are you Berkians that uneducated?”

“That thing,” the young man scoffed. “It looks more like a giant butterfly. I could totally take it,” he declared, unimpressively flexing his muscles.

“I wouldn’t recommend that,” Ville said disinterestedly, leaving Viggo intrigued as to what game his brother was playing at.

“Who cares what you think,” the pompous youth proclaimed. “I’m the heir of Berk and I can do what I want.”

Ryker was prepared to step in as it was clear the idiot was about to charge, but Viggo laid a hand on his arm, holding him back. He knew his younger brother was baiting the other man and he was sure there was some sort of plan.

Sure enough, the dimwitted heir did not even make it two steps before Garff spat amber at his feet and torso, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

“That is the first reason I would not recommend attacking,” Ville stated indifferently. “He is a dragon and will defend himself accordingly.”

The dark-haired dissenter finally spoke up. “And the other reason?”

“Because I will not allow anyone to harm my dragons,” Ville practically growled. “Attack at your own risk.”

Toothless and Rynnätä must have sensed the tension rising once again as they both wrapped their tails around Vilhehn and flared their wings, the Skrill sparking threateningly, her lightning bouncing off of her and across Toothless and Ville’s armor. Though the scene appeared almost otherworldly, Viggo was not concerned as there was a reason Ville had made his armor out of fireproof leather with an additional layer of Toothless scales hand-sewn over its entirety. His brother had put a lot of time into the suit, but it was worth it as it allowed him an extra level of protection. To outsiders though, it truly looked as if he were one with the beasts and if he had to wager a guess, those thoughts, or something very similar were running through the remaining Berkian’s head.

“How are you not-” He never finished, though, as there was a loud splash.

Viggo had been watching the scene unfold, and while most eyes had naturally been on Ville, he had switched his attention to Garff who had been examining the Viking encased in amber as if he was a tasty snack. The dragon quickly lost interest though, and used his tail to flick Berk's heir off the dock and into the water.

Fortunately for the lad, the amber was fairly buoyant and he was not in danger of sinking…not anytime soon at least. Viggo would have had no objection to leaving him to his own devices for a while, but Ville flicked his wrist and the idiotic youth was shortly floating through the air, his high-pitched screams echoing off the cliffs.

“Karl will deposit him in the village,” he said impassively. “Do not think I am doing this as a favor to you. I simply don’t want that sad excuse for a Viking around our ship.” With that, he began walking toward their gangplank, leaving the sputtering man behind them.

“What about my son,” the man demanded, confirming Viggo’s suspicion that the two were related. “He’s still stuck in that-”

“Not my problem,” Ville called over his shoulder. “He got himself into that situation. Let him get himself out.”

By that time, they were stepping onto the ship and Ville was quick to slip into the hold, away from the irate screaming that was attempting to follow them.

Viggo knew that between their crew and the dragons, the man would not make it far and so he followed his brother, curiously asking, “Are you really going to leave him like that?”

Ville pulled off his helmet and shrugged. “For a while at least. If someone asks nicely, I might reconsider.”

“And the odds of that happening,” Viggo inquired, quirking an eyebrow.

His brother snorted. “I wouldn’t hold my breath,” he murmured, “but quite honestly, they’re the last ones I’d consider helping.” He paused dramatically before adding, “So, what do you think of my uncle and cousin?”

“Those imbeciles,” he said incredulously, requesting confirmation.

“One and the same,” Ville grimaced.

Viggo simply shook his head, appalled that these were the people Ville had been forced to deal with while growing up. “It makes me wish we had set out for revenge on Berk all those years ago instead of just thinking about it.”

Chapter Text

Gobber huffed, only half listening to Spitelout’s rant to Stoick as he went on and on about how dangerous the Dragon Master was and that they shouldn’t trust him. The blacksmith wanted to get back to the forge, but as he was one of the main supporters of this plan and, as a member of the council, he was not about to leave before the Chief signed the contract and the agreement was confirmed.

“I’m tellin’ ye, Stoick,” Spitelout continued. “Somethin’ about that man ain’t right. That Skrill was all lit up and the lightnin’ was flickering across him, yet he was actin’ like it was nothin’ at all.”

“Are ye sure ye aren’t just exaggeratin’ things a wee bit, Spitelout,” Gobber interjected not even bothering to hide his skepticism.

“I know what I saw,” the warrior insisted. “And then there’s Snotlout.”

“What about him,” Stoick inquired absentmindedly as he looked over the contact one last time.

“One of the dragons shot this…stuff at him and now he can’t move,” Spitelout declared.

Stoick had just been about to sign the contract, but his quill froze as he looked up at his brother. “The Dragon Master ordered an attack?”

“He did,” Spitelout confirmed adamantly.

Gobber scoffed and waved his hook dismissively. “He probably had good reason. Was that muttonheaded son of yers swingin’ his mace around?”

Spitelout bristled. “How dare ya accuse-”

“Am I wrong,” he broke in, effectively silencing Spitelout who refused to make eye contact, confirming that the Dragon Master had not been the instigator. “I thought so,” the blacksmith remarked smugly.

Stoick pinched the bridge of his nose and turned to his brother. “I realize how you feel about this, Spitelout. I’m none too pleased myself,” he admitted, “but we need those Whispering Deaths gone and this is our best bet. The Berserkers are acquainted with these people, so I will trust that they mean us no harm.”

Spitelout sneered. “Those Berserkers only care fer their own hides and-”

“The Berserkers are our allies,” Stoick proclaimed, giving his brother a look that would have silenced a lesser man. Unfortunately, the bonehead didn’t know when to stop.

“Not much of ones,” Spitelout claimed. “They treat us like we’re the dirt beneath their feet. They hardly even stay long enough to sign the treaty.”

Privately, Gobber didn’t blame them, particularly since Oswald and Dagur knew exactly what kind of men the Chief and his brother were. Just as Stoick had lost most of Gobber’s respect all those years ago, the same could be said for the Berserker Chief, though at least he remained polite, something which Dagur refused to do.

“Regardless, these people are friends of our allies,” Stoick maintained, countering Spitelout’s argument, “and we would do best not to disturb the already fragile threads that bind us.”

The Chief’s brother crossed his arms and reluctantly agreed to let the topic rest…well, mostly. “Fine, but what am I supposed to do about Snotlout?”

Stoick sighed and waved the other man off. “See if Gothi can help,” he suggested wearily, not even watching his brother storm out the doors of the Great Hall as he finally put quill to parchment, signing the contract that would rid them of those beasties. 

Gobber doubted Spitelout would get any help from Gothi as the old lady couldn’t stand the man or his son, but he made no move to stop him. It wasn’t like the warrior would listen to him anyway, so why bother? He was tempted to follow and watch the old bat give Spitelout what for, there being little enough entertainment around here, but as Stoick was rolling up the contract, he had a feeling there were more important things to take care of.

Sure enough, the Chief passed him the scroll and a decently weighted pouch of gold and asked him to see to their delivery. Considering all the grief Stoick had given the Stormhearts, he should have delivered it himself as a gesture of goodwill. Then again, the Dragon Master and his family would probably view it as a blessing if they didn’t have to see the Chief for a while, and as Gobber would prefer to keep the peace, he accepted the assignment without complaint.

The docks were relatively empty, a strange sight for this time of day, but with all the dragons hanging around the Stormhearts’ ship, Gobber couldn’t blame his fellow Berkians for staying away. He hobbled up the gangplank to the massive ship but was not allowed to board, a member of the crew stopping him to ask what his business was.

“I’ve brought the contract and the payment,” he announced, eyeing the other Viking warily. “I’d prefer to see it into the hands of one of them Grimborns, just to be sure it gets where it’s supposed to.” The Stormheart nodded and was about to call to one of the other men, probably to retrieve one of their leaders, but Gobber caught sight of a familiar face and couldn’t help but shout, “Dagur! What’re ye doing here?”

“Joined my friends for the trip,” the Berserker smirked, sauntering over. “Wasn’t about to let Vilhehn come back here without me.”

Gobber’s breath caught as he recognized the name, having heard it frequently from the Berserker heir over the years. “Vilhehn?! He’s here?”

Dagur nodded and gestured for him to come along after letting the guard know that it was safe to let Gobber board. “He’s below deck right now, but I know he’s been eager to see you.”

“It’s been so long,” Gobber commented wistfully, having gotten to the point where he was beginning to doubt he’d ever see the lad again. “He’s all grown up now, isn’t he?”

“I’ll leave you to be the judge of that,” Dagur responded, before calling out, “Hey, Ville, you’ve got a visitor.”

“A visitor? Who?”

He watched as a lanky young man, came around the corner, his eyes lighting up in recognition.

“Gobber,” Ville exclaimed, rushing forward to hug the blacksmith. “It’s so good to see you! How have you been?”

He wiped away a tear that had managed to escape. “I’m grand, now that I’ve got to see ye,” he declared, “Ye’ve grown so big!”

Vilhehn laughed. “Well, it has been twelve years,” he observed. “I would hope I had grown in that time. I’d be a strange sight if I hadn’t.” The lad jerked forward and reached a hand behind him. “Calm down, you,” he said playfully before stepping aside to reveal a familiar black dragon. “Gobber, I’d like you to meet Toothless.”

“But that’s…” Gobber trailed off, looking back and forth between the dragon and the young man. “Yer the Dragon Master?!”

“Guilty,” Ville shrugged, a slight smile on his face.

Gobber rounded on Dagur, shaking his finger at him. “How come ye never told me?!”

“Sorry,” the Berserker apologized, “but while we tried to keep you updated, it was too dangerous to give you any information that could give away Ville’s location, just in case.”

He rolled his eyes. “Like the fire-breathin’ reptiles weren’t protection enough?”

Vilhehn rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, no one outside of our tribe and the Berserkers really know who I am,” he hesitantly revealed. “But come, I’d love to introduce you to my family.”

Gobber followed them deeper into the ship and introductions were made. It was nice to finally have faces to go with the names he had heard so much of over the years. But even better was seeing how happy Vilhehn was and how much his family truly loved and cared for him. The dragons were still a bit much to wrap his mind around, but Gobber was willing to put up with quite a bit to spend time with this family, catching up with Ville and getting to know the others.

At one point, he found himself talking with Viggo and, when they were in between topics, he determined to say something that had been on his mind for a long while. “Thank ye so much fer takin’ the laddie in,” he said. “Oswald has kept me up to date...well...mostly.” His eyes slid toward the dragons as they were one of the biggest omissions before continuing. “I can’t tell ye how happy it made me to know he was thriving.”

“The thanks extends both ways,” Viggo replied. “We are most grateful to have Ville in our lives. And if you had not done what you did…I shudder to think of what could have happened to him.” The Chief of the Stormhearts shook his head slightly as if to rid himself of that horrible thought before adding, “If you ever have need of our assistance, you need only ask.”

“I’ll hold ye to that,” Gobber grinned, already liking this family.

“Please do.”

It wasn’t long after that Vilhehn joined them and Viggo soon left so that they could catch up with each other. Though there were many changes since Gobber had seen the boy last, there was one that was pretty major. “So, tell me about this,” he requested, gesturing to Ville’s prosthetic. “Ye couldn’t help copying ‘ol Gobber, now could ye?”

“I wouldn’t say I was copying you,” Vilhehn rolled his eyes. Sticking his leg out and gesturing to his prosthetic, he said, “After all, this is far more complex than a wooden peg.”

“Aye, that it is,” Gobber conceded. His expression softened as he laid his hand on the boy’s knee and gently inquired, “Does it bother ye much?”

Ville gave him half a crooked smile and shrugged with one shoulder. “Sometimes,” he admitted, “but my family always helps me through it. They’re pretty amazing.”

Gobber followed the lad’s gaze to where the rest of his family was gathered and, once again, he couldn’t help but be thankful for the situation Ville had landed in. Not wanting to start blubbering like a baby, though, he got them back on topic and lightly tapped Ville’s prosthetic with his own. “So, how did ye come up with this contraption?”

The lad launched into a highly technical explanation which Gobber was eager to listen to. From there they touched on many topics, though smithing was the one they returned to the most. He marveled at Ville’s craftsmanship and the detail on his dual swords. It wasn’t that Dagur hadn’t passed him a weapon or two from Ville over the years, but this metal the Stormhearts used was like nothing he had ever seen before. The fact that it was Vilhehn’s creation made it that much more impressive, and he couldn’t be prouder of the lad than if he was his own son.

Chapter Text

After Gobber had left, Ville was cornered by his eldest brother who had just learned the identities of the Berkian stragglers from earlier.

“Why didn’t you say anything,” Ryker demanded.

“I wasn’t about to reveal that I knew them,” Ville explained, thinking that should have been rather obvious. “Kind of gives away the fact that I’m from here.”

“Why didn’t I think to ask you for a description so I would’ve known who they were,” his brother grumbled. “Better yet, why didn’t you include your uncle’s description when you were telling us about Stoick?”

Vilhehn shrugged. “I didn’t think we’d be dealing with him. At least, I hoped we wouldn’t be,” he amended. “And what purpose would it have served? They were taken care of,” he reasoned, thinking back to how Garff had handled his cousin beautifully.

Ryker scoffed. “Not sufficiently, if you ask me.” He paused for a moment before muttering, “If I had let him make it onto the ship no one could have blamed me for dealing with a trespasser as I saw fit.”

“Yeah, I don’t think the Berkians would have been pleased if you tore Spitelout limb from limb,” Ville declared, recognizing that look in his brother’s eyes.

“I don’t care what they think,” he shot back. “Plus, who are they to come against us? We could conquer them easily.”

While it was true, Ville would rather not waste their time or resources on revenge, not when he had moved on from his past. “Brother, I know you’re still mad about how I was treated here, but any seemingly unwarranted actions could lead to my secret being revealed and it’s just going to make things worse. Please, just let it be.”

Ryker grumbled but reluctantly agreed. “I’ll do my best not to attack without cause,” he promised, which didn’t mean much but Ville knew it was the best he was going to get. Knowing his brother, though, causes would not be hard to find, particularly since the Berkians made it so easy.

Ville slipped away as soon as everyone was distracted and grabbed his helmet before asking Toothless and Kuori to join him. He did not see the point in changing back into his full armor right now, but he was not about to step within view of Berk without something to hide his identity.

He made his way to the deck, the Speed Stingers who had been patrolling rushing over to say hello.

“Hey, Raske,” he said, making sure that his scratches were distributed evenly between the four little dragons. “All clear up here?”

“No intruders, so far,” the lead Speed Stinger reported, rubbing up against Ville’s leg.

“Good,” Ville responded, giving the dragon one more scratch before mounting Toothless. “I’ll be back in a little bit and spend some time up here with you.”

The little dragons chirped in excitement, racing around the deck as they saw him and the larger dragons off.

It was late enough that most of Berk seemed to be asleep, just as he had hoped, but it didn’t really matter as Toothless’ coloring allowed them to disappear into the night sky and Kuori was dark enough that he would not be easily spotted either. Finding the Whispering Death tunnels was not hard when you knew what to look for, but for some reason, the Rumblehorn was unable to pick up a scent. Ville chose to believe that meant the dragons had been gone for a while and would soon be returning. He just hoped this wasn’t a wild Terror chase and that the dragons were indeed coming back. Otherwise, they could be here an uncomfortably long time. From what information he had been able to glean from Gobber, though, it seemed that it was never more than a few weeks between sightings, so hopefully they would see something soon.

Ville woke up late the next morning, having spent a couple of hours on the deck with Raske and the others upon his return. He found himself at a loss for what to do, not wanting to go far in case the Whispering Deaths appeared, but not wanting to go into the village either. Even going to another part of Berk or simply leaving the ship was not without its complications. Thus, he was remaining below deck and already going a little stir-crazy.

“Ville, would you please stop pacing,” Heddi requested. “It’s getting incredibly annoying.”

“Sorry,” he said guiltily, taking a seat and pulling out his journal in the hopes he could work on some plans he had, but his nervous energy needed some sort of outlet and his knee would not stop bouncing up and down.

“Why don’t you go for a flight,” Norell proposed, “or to one of the further beaches or something?”

He scrunched up his face and replied, “I don’t want to have to keep my helmet on at all times.”

Norell tilted her head, looking at him questioningly. “You think you’ll need it, even on the far ends of the island?”

“Berkians don’t often stray from the village,” he acknowledged, “but it’s also not unheard of. I’d rather not take the risk.”

“Try this,” Heddi suggested, tossing him the black fabric she had been stitching.

Ville had wondered what she was working on and, holding it up, he saw that it was a hood with an extra wide base that could be pulled up over the lower part of his face. He tugged it on and it wasn’t half bad, less suffocating than his helmet anyway. “Well, it’s marginally better,” he shared, adjusting the fabric so it concealed as many of his features as possible. “Thanks, Heddi.”

“You do realize you could probably go without it,” she pointed out as he continued to fiddle with it.

“I know,” he acknowledged, “but I’ve never revealed myself like that.”

“The Berserkers know who you are,” Norell stated matter of factly.

Ville shrugged. “Well, that wasn’t exactly planned.” After all, it was only after he killed the dragon Queen that all was truly revealed and that wasn’t exactly something they could keep hidden, though Dagur’s stories of him riding into battle sure didn’t help matters.

“True, but it is already known that you’re Viggo and Ryker’s brother,” Heddi reasoned, “which is more than you normally disclose anyway. If anyone was to visit Tulva, it would be easy to figure out.”

“I know,” he confessed, “but Viggo worries, and if it puts his mind at ease…” He trailed off and shrugged, having already made his point.

“You’re a good brother,” Heddi declared, coming over to peck him on the cheek. “Now, try to enjoy yourself and work off some of those nerves.”

“Put the fear of the Dragon Master into the hearts of the Berkians,” he said as he walked out of their common room. “Got it!”

“Ville,” Heddi exclaimed in fond exasperation while Norell just laughed.

Peeking his head back around the doorway, he grinned, though it was hidden by his scarf. “I’ll behave. I promise.”

“See that you do,” Heddi declared, a twinkle in her eye that belied her admonition.

With that, Ville was off to the deck, a quick roar calling down Toothless from where he had perched on the mast with some of the other dragons, balefully glaring at any Berkian who dared to get too close to their ship. “Come on, bud,” he called. “Let’s go for a flight.”

The Night Fury glided down to the deck, eagerly rubbing against him as Ville scratched his favorite spots. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“I do want to make one stop, though,” he shared, getting into the saddle.

Toothless looked back at him, warily asking, “Is it safe?”

“It should be,” he responded as the dragon jumped into the air. “It’s that hut way up there,” he said, pointing out their destination. “It belongs to the healer who helped Gobber get me out of here.”

“She’s nice, then,” Toothless queried.

“She can be,” Ville hedged, remembering how deadly she could be with her staff if someone was bothering her. “She’s old and a little crotchety, but she always treated me kindly.”

Reassured that all would be well, Toothless took them up and landed on Gothi’s porch, letting Ville dismount before lightly jumping onto the roof. There was hardly any sound coming from inside, which made sense. Not too many Berkians came up here for treatment, as they would generally only ask for Gothi’s help if they were severely injured or ill, meaning she would have to go to them. Ville decided to take the risk and pulled down his hood as he didn’t want to startle the elderly healer by appearing as a masked stranger at her door. As he knocked, he hoped she would recognize him and not hit him over the head with her staff.

What he was not expecting, though, was for a girl around his own age to open the door. Gobber had mentioned Gothi in passing, so he was sure she still lived here, but it threw him off, especially as the girl looked familiar. She stared at him expectantly and he belatedly realized he had better state his purpose. “Oh, sorry. Uhh, I was looking for Gothi.”

“She’s here,” the girl replied, looking at him questioningly. “Can’t guarantee she’ll treat you, though. And fair warning, the treatment might be worse than whatever’s ailing you.”

There was something about her frank way of talking…and those three braids. He had only ever known one person to style their hair that way and couldn’t help but conclude that this must be Ruffnut. Getting back on track to the purpose of this visit, he said “I-I just wanted to speak with her, if that’s possible?”

The young woman opened her mouth to respond but got no further as a familiar staff came into view and hit her helmet, causing her to whirl around. “Ow,” she complained emphatically, rubbing her head. “Would you watch it?!”

Ville’s focus, though was on the little old healer, whose eyes had lit up upon catching sight of him. Gothi grabbed his arm and pulled him in while simultaneously pushing Ruffnut out, slamming the door in her face.

He couldn’t help but chuckle as he bent down to give the healer a hug. “It’s good to see you, Gothi. How are you?”

She smiled at him and nodded before gesturing him over to one corner and beginning to draw in the sand a figure that looked much like the village blacksmith.

“Yes, I spoke with Gobber last night,” he confirmed. “He was the one who brought us the contract.”

Gothi eyed his everyday armor knowingly and raised one eyebrow. While it wasn't the full armor he had been wearing yesterday, there were certain similarities that she must have caught on to.

Knowing that if he didn’t tell her now, she would hear it from Gobber later, he said, “Yes, I’m the Dragon Master and I have the most amazing family now, all thanks to you and Gobber.”

She waved one hand dismissively, but he wasn’t having it.

“It’s true,” he maintained, “and I wanted to thank you. My family may be along later or you are more than welcome to visit us on our ship. Though it might be a good idea to bring Gobber with you as I never did learn all of your runes.” When he stayed with her for those two weeks all those years ago, he had learned enough to get by, but Gothi had been fairly busy and, with him having to stay in her back room, there hadn’t been much opportunity for him to learn more. Changing the topic slightly, he gestured to the healer’s door and said, “By the way, was that Ruffnut?”

Gothi nodded again and drew the rune that he had come to recognize as meaning ‘help.’

“She’s your apprentice,” he surmised, putting two and two together. At another nod from Gothi, he acknowledged that it made sense. “She was always helpful, even as a child,” he recalled. “I don’t want her to get too suspicious, though, so I better take my leave. If there’s ever anything I can do for you, just let me know.”

The elderly healer grabbed his arm and yanked him down to her level, placing a kiss on his cheek before letting him go.

He gave Gothi one more hug before pulling his hood back into position, adjusting the extra fabric so that only his eyes were visible, and stepping outside, only to find Ruffnut’s gaze fastened on the roof, apparently locked in a staring contest with Toothless. Neither seemed to notice him there, so he did the only thing he could think of.

“Did you find a new friend, bud,” he inquired, Toothless instantly switching his focus and rumbling an affirmative as he jumped gracefully down to the porch.

Ruffnut looked back and forth between him and the Night Fury, the question clear in her eyes. “You’re the Dragon Master.”

“At your service,” he bowed dramatically before hopping onto Toothless’ saddle. “I’m sorry for interrupting your day, but I will let you get back to your responsibilities now.”

“No bother,” she shook her head, a confused expression on her face. “No bother at all.”

“Well, thank you for being one of the nicer Berkians I’ve encountered,” he remarked, pleased to find that at least someone other than Gobber and Gothi was being nice, though he really shouldn’t have expected anything else from Ruffnut. 

“They’re not all bad,” she shrugged, an irreverent grin creeping onto her face. “Just most of them.”

Ville laughed. “Thanks for the warning. Have a good day!”

“You, too,” she responded, just before Toothless dove off the edge of the healer’s porch.

The Night Fury zipped through the town, causing all the Berkians to duck in fear, before banking to circle around the island. Once they had left the village behind he observed, “She was nice. Not scared at all and she didn’t try to attack. Do you know her, too?”

“I do,” Ville confided. “She was actually the only Viking my age that I looked forward to seeing. She would hang out with my cousin because he was her brother’s friend, but she would always try to slip me something after an encounter.”

“Like what,” Toothless asked curiously.

He shrugged. “It was always different, but generally something helpful, medicine or bandages, even some food here and there. I’m glad to see that she hasn’t lost that helpful spirit.” Reaching forward to scratch his dragon’s jaw, he added, “So, you ready for that flight?”

Chapter Text

Ruffnut had been preparing a few herbs to restock their supplies when there was a knock on the door. She groaned as odds were it was Spitelout again. Gothi had refused to have anything to do with the man after his incessantly pestering her the day before, and Ruff couldn’t blame her, but that meant that she had to deal with him, which she was not looking forward to.

Upon opening the door, though, she was surprised to find a complete stranger, and a very cute one at that with his tousled auburn hair and piercing green eyes. There was something vaguely familiar about him, but she couldn’t place what it was. There was a flicker of black around the corner of the roof and she was tempted to look, but she didn’t dare take her eyes off the stranger as she was unsure of his intentions.

He finally spoke, saying, “Oh, sorry. Uhh, I was looking for Gothi.”

“She’s here,” Ruff replied, wondering why he would be seeking out the village healer and how he knew Gothi’s name. “Can’t guarantee she’ll treat you, though. And fair warning, the treatment might be worse than whatever’s ailing you.”

He seemed to stare at her for a moment before minutely shaking his head. “I-I just wanted to speak with her, if that’s possible?”

Ruffnut was about to respond when there was a resounding thunk on her helmet. She whirled around and glared accusingly at Gothi. “Ow,” she complained emphatically, rubbing her head. Not like she hadn’t had worse, but still… “Would you watch it?!”

Gothi didn’t even look sorry, though, her gaze focused on the stranger as she grabbed his arm and pulled him in while using her staff to shove Ruff out the front door, slamming it in her face and leaving her standing there openmouthed.

“Well, that was unexpected,” she muttered to herself. There was nothing out here for her to do, but she didn’t dare leave, as Gothi would have her hide if she just disappeared. With a sigh, she resigned herself to waiting, a fate worse than death, but then another flicker of black caught her eye from up on the healer’s roof. Since the stranger was locked away with Gothi, Ruff was now free to look, though she was not expecting to see a dragon gazing back at her, much less the dragon the Dragon Master had been riding.

There had been whispers of ‘Night Fury’ yesterday, but as no one had ever seen one and there was next to no information about that species in the Book of Dragons, Ruffnut could not be entirely sure. But with the dragon up there and the fact that the man had been wearing black leather, though not anything nearly as intimidating as what she had seen before, she couldn’t help but wonder if that was indeed the Dragon Master.

Her eyes had remained fixed on the dragon as she thought things through and when it began to creep forward, she instinctively took two steps back, resulting in the dragon pausing and tilting its head. Unlike yesterday, when she would have sworn the beast was ready to bite someone’s head off, right now, it simply seemed curious. She could deal with that, as long as it didn’t try to get any closer.

She kept her focus on it, not daring to look away, but she tried to take in as many details as she could, thinking she could trade this information to Fishlegs later, though it would have to be for something good.

She was startled from her observation by the man from before saying, “Did you find a new friend, bud?”

Her gaze immediately switched to him, noting that he now had a hood on, covering his hair and most of his face. The dragon was already at his side, rubbing against him and as Ruff looked back and forth between them, she cautiously speculated out loud. “You’re the Dragon Master.”

He confirmed her suppositions and politely made his apologies for keeping her from her responsibilities, nothing like his authoritative and disdainful behavior of the day before, but then again, considering his welcome to Berk, if you could even call it that, she couldn’t blame him. They exchanged a few more words, and she even managed to make him laugh, before he took his leave.

She stood there for a moment, her mind stuck on the stranger’s twinkling green eyes and how nice he had been. She wished she had been able to get another look at the rest of his face as she couldn’t shake the fact that somehow she knew him, but how?

Her musings were interrupted, though, by Gothi pulling her back into her hut and gesturing for her to resume her work. She did as she was told, but that didn’t mean she could not try for a bit more information.

“So, were you able to help him,” she queried, only to get conked on the head again. She glared at the healer as that hit was entirely unnecessary. After all, Gothi could have just said ‘no.’ “What,” she inquired incredulously, being on the receiving end of a glare herself. “I was just asking.”

Gothi sighed long-sufferingly and waved her over to the sand pit, writing, “He did not need help.”

“But you know him,” Ruffnut pressed.

The elderly healer hesitated a moment before nodding. “We have met before.”

“How?”

“That is between the two of us,” Gothi wrote firmly, clearly unwilling to divulge any more information. Changing the subject, she scribbled, “Have you thought any more about my offer?”

“I-I’ve almost made up my mind,” she wavered, “but…”

Gothi patted her arm. “Take your time, child, but know that you always have a place here.”

“Thank you, Gothi,” she said sincerely, before heading back to her station. “I really appreciate it.”

The healer nodded understandingly and resumed her own tasks, leaving Ruffnut to her thoughts.

It was tempting, to move up here and live with the healer. It would make her apprenticeship easier and with the way things were between her and Tuff… She bit back a sigh, trying to discern where things had gone wrong.

It had been easier when they were younger, the two of them hanging out with Snotlout, but content to just spend time with each other as well. But then Tuff started spending more and more time with Snotlout, something that only increased once she began her apprenticeship four years ago. She didn’t care for how violent and reckless they had become, especially toward those who couldn't defend themselves. What was once easy for her to follow along with in an effort to fit in was now becoming harder. 

She would rather heal than hurt, which was not a very Viking-like opinion, but one that was needed or else everyone would die of their ailments. Her brother didn’t seem to get that though, and the taunting had only gotten worse as time went on. She could still give her brother as good as he could give, and would if the situation called for it, but she would rather not have to fight with him all the time. And that was what it came down to: defending herself for the decisions she makes or letting others dictate how she should be.

Ruffnut was sick and tired of being something she was not, but if you weren’t a typical Viking, odds were you would not fare well in Berk. Too many had been lost that way during the dragon raids, something which she did her best not to dwell on.

And those lines of thought brought to mind the Dragon Master. He knew how to project his power when needed, but he was also not afraid of being his true self. Just look at how playful he had been with his dragon and how nice he had been to her. It was true she didn’t know him, but she wondered if maybe he would be willing to give her some advice, help her balance people’s perception of her while still being true to herself. She didn’t know if he would be open to the idea, but, as long as she was respectful, there would be no harm in asking.

Chapter Text

Dagur was bored. He would have taken Sleuther for a flight, but while on Berk, the plan was for it to appear that Ville controlled all the dragons, so he couldn’t just go off unless his friend was with him, and said friend had been asleep. To fill the time, Dagur had done a strenuous workout, only to discover that Ville had slipped by him while he was thus occupied and was now nowhere to be found. The sight of the ship was getting old, and so he decided to head into town, hoping he could find something to amuse him.

As he was sauntering through Berk, he hit the jackpot, for there leaning up against the side of a hut was Snotlout, covered in Garff’s amber. Dagur was still upset over having had to stay below deck and miss out on Ville’s masterful display the day before, but this golden opportunity would go a long way toward lifting his spirits.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled. “Look what we have here.”

“Dagur!” Snothat’s face lit up at the sight of him, something which the Berserker heir always found repulsive. “You don’t know how good it is to see you,” the younger boy exclaimed before a look of confusion crossed his face. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“I came with my friends,” Dagur replied nonchalantly.

Snotlip’s brow furrowed. “Your friends?”

He knew the Berkian heir was dense, but this was a new low. May as well use it to his advantage, though. “Oh, that’s right,” he responded. “I forgot, you don’t know the meaning of that word, do you?”

“Of course I do,” Snotear protested vehemently. “I have friends!”

“Really,” Dagur asked skeptically. “Then name one.”

Snotknuckle smirked and proudly said, “Tuffnut.”

“Okay, name two,” Dagur dared.

There was a brief pause. “Uh, Ruffnut.”

From the way he responded, Dagur doubted the friendship was very strong, if it even existed, which caused him to make the final push. “Three?”

Snothat’s face screwed up in thought, and Dagur muttered under his breath, “Don’t hurt yourself,” though the Berkian heir did not hear him, so focused was he on trying to think of a third friend. Dagur was getting bored already, so he spoke up, pointing a dagger at the idiot and saying, “Exactly,” as he drove his point home. Eyeing the assortment of items sticking out of the amber, he said, “I would ask what you’ve been up to but from the looks of things you’ve been staying cozy.”

Seeming to just now remember his predicament, Snotidiot hastily switched gears. “Please, Dagur, you’ve got to get me out of here.”

“What for,” Dagur queried, taking a few steps back. “For once in your life, you’re actually serving a purpose.” He aimed and threw his blade, it landing just next to Snotlout’s ear. “You make an excellent target.”

As he lined up his next throw, Snotface screamed, requiring Dagur to warn him to stay still. “Any sudden moves may result in injury. Your injury,” he explained needlessly. Then again, the Berkian wasn’t very smart and the reminder was probably needed. “Of course, you can’t move much, but considering where I’m aiming…” He let another dagger fly, embedding it in the wood beside Snotjerk’s neck, “…you might not want to risk it,” he finished with a smirk. 

His fun was interrupted by a very familiar voice saying, “Must you scare the peasantry, Dagur?”

He looked up to see that Toothless had landed on the roof of the house in front of him and Ville had dismounted, jumping gracefully to the ground. “Well, there’s not much else to do around here,” Dagur reasoned, “and he does make a nice target.”

Ville looked at Snotfoot and then back at Dagur before shrugging. “True,” he admitted, joining Dagur and pulling out a blade of his own.

The peasantry comment seemed to have finally made it through Snot’s thick head as he declared, “I will have you know, I’m the heir to Berk.”

Ville just rolled his eyes, the only part of his face that was visible with the hood he had on. “You said that before.” He threw his blade, it landing just above his cousin’s helmet. “Though I will say, you don’t look like it.”

“He’s never acted like it either,” Dagur chimed in.

“How dare you,” the heir bristled. “I’ll have you know-” He stopped short as another blade embedded itself next to his ear, thanks to Ville’s expert aim.

“I’d watch what you say, Snotty,” Dagur spoke up. Jerking his thumb toward Ville, he added, “This guy is probably your only chance of getting out of that.” Stepping closer, he fingered the chisel sticking out of the amber, while eyeing the smattering of dirt and the dagger blade that was embedded as well but seemed to have lost its handle. “I’m guessing the previous attempts didn’t go so well.”

Snottoe’s defiant gaze dropped as he murmured a barely audible, “No.”

“What did they try anyway,” Ville inquired. “Besides the obvious, of course.”

“That’s none of your business,” Snotknee proclaimed only for Toothless to hang his head over the roof and huff in Snotlout’s face, resulting in another scream.

The Night Fury was less than pleased at having his eardrums assaulted, and, after a brief nod from Ville, he left, heading back for the ship, if Dagur didn’t miss his guess.

“You’re right,” Ville shrugged. “It’s not my business. Guess I’ll be on my way, then,” he remarked, making as if he was about to leave, but Dagur knew a set up when he saw one.

“Wait! I’d really like to not be stuck in here for the rest of my life,” Snotfinger reluctantly admitted.

“I don’t know,” Dagur protested. “I think we’d be doing Berk a favor.”

“Or we could see if there’s another method to break the amber,” Ville proposed, returning to Dagur’s side and fingering one of his blades.

That piqued Dagur’s interest. “Like what?”

“Dropping him from one hundred feet,” Ville suggested, letting his dagger fly.

“The twins already rolled me off a cliff and into a tree,” Snotleg volunteered, “so you can cross that one off the list. Especially as it took them a couple attempts to actually hit the tree,” he mumbled.

“That would explain all the leaves,” Dagur commented as he retrieved their blades, taking a closer look at the Berkian heir’s hair.

“What?!”

“And are those ants,” he asked incredulously.

Snothat squirmed, well, as much as he was capable, before revealing, “Tuff thought maybe the fire ants would be able to eat me out, but the only thing they’re eating is me.”

“Maybe not fire ants, but fireworms,” Ville mused. “I could see about rounding a few up.”

Dagur grinned wildly. “Don’t they burn hotter than the sun?”

“They do,” Ville confirmed, his eyes twinkling. “A few of those might be able to do the trick.”

“No, please no,” Snothat begged. “The fire ants are bad enough. Isn’t there some other-” He screamed as Ville plunged Inferno into the amber, causing Dagur to laugh uproariously. “What are you doing?!”

Ville paused his effort to cut through the amber and innocently said, “I thought you wanted to get out.”

“Yeah, ALIVE,” Snotlip exclaimed.

“Trust me, if I wanted you dead I would have let you float out to sea or let the dragons have you,” Ville declared drily, removing his fire sword and tapping the amber so that it shattered into a million pieces. Pointing Inferno at his cousin, he warned, “Don’t mess with me again or the consequences will be much worse.”

The look on Snotidiot’s face was priceless as he hastily nodded and scampered away. Dagur doubted the whole experience would leave a lasting impression on the muttonhead considering how dense he was, but at least it would hopefully keep him in his place for the duration of their visit.

Chapter Text

Astrid was heading back into the village from her favorite training spot in the forest when she caught sight of the Dragon Master flying overhead. She wasn’t sure how she felt about him, but when she saw his Night Fury land on one of the houses, she decided to investigate. Creeping silently in that direction, she was surprised to find him and Dagur (where had he come from?) toying with Snotlout who was still stuck in…whatever that stuff was. She couldn’t say that the muttonhead didn’t deserve it, and while she was not about to demand they stop, she didn’t see the harm in hanging around. After all, if things went too far, she could always step in, but in the meantime, she could watch the heir be put in his place.

Of course, being taunted by other humans was one thing, but when the black dragon hung its head over the roof and snarled at Snotlout, resulting in one of the idiot’s distinctly high-pitched screams, Astrid stiffened. She was about to head over and ensure that the dragon was not about to go on a rampage or some such thing when the Dragon Master and his dragon exchanged a look, the latter quickly taking flight. Interesting. The dragon sought his master’s approval.

While she was not close enough to hear their conversation, she noticed that the Dragon Master looked like he was about to leave as well, but then he changed his mind and returned to Dagur’s side, resuming his use of the Berkian heir as a target as if it was the most natural thing in the world. As far as Astrid could tell from her position, he had an excellent aim, the blades landing precisely beside Snotlout without even nicking him.

After that, the discussion seemed to escalate and she doubted the maniacal grin on Dagur’s face boded well, but before she could decide whether or not she should intervene, the Dragon Master had jammed a FLAMING BLADE into the rock-hard substance Snotlout was stuck in. She was about to rush forward when she realized that the Dragon Master was actually cutting through that stuff, something that no one had been able to manage the day before.

Soon enough, Snotlout was released from his temporary prison, but the Dragon Master wasn’t done. He pointed the flaming blade at Snotlout and said a few words before the Berkian heir scampered off. Coward, Astrid thought before she let her attention swing back over to the Dragon Master who was speaking animatedly with Dagur, his sword nowhere to be seen.

Astrid took a better look at the man, noting that he was dressed more casually today. He clearly wielded much power, as was demonstrated upon his arrival yesterday and the way he had handled his sword and daggers was proof he was well-trained with weapons. She would also assume he was fairly strong, considering how deep he had plunged his sword into that amber stuff. Sure, the heat from the flames probably helped, but she couldn’t help but think there was more to it.

The more she thought about it, the more she realized that if she had to get married as her parents were demanding, the Dragon Master was a much better prospect than any options she had here. Snotlout was an arrogant idiot, Tuffnut was a reckless idiot, and while Fishlegs was not an idiot, he was too passive and soft-hearted. The only reason he had survived this long was because of his sheer size, but though he was the best option of the three, he was not at all what she would wish for. There was always Dagur, too…technically…but the Berserker heir barely tolerated any of the Berkians and she wasn’t sure if she could get past his prejudice. Plus, he was deranged.

The Dragon Master and his family were clearly intelligent, considering the way they had played Stoick like a fiddle, and they were strong, another point in their favor. She was wary of their connection to dragons, but with the lack of dragon attacks the last few years, she thought it was something she could look past if needed. Plus, the Dragon Master seemed to have the creatures firmly under his control, so there should be little need for worry, as long as she showed him the respect that he was due according to his title. If Astrid could manage to come to an agreement with him, not only could she procure herself a powerful husband, but she could also earn Berk an ally that few would want to tangle with.

All in all, it wasn’t a bad plan and she decided to take the first step, namely approaching the Dragon Master and the Berserker heir to seek a proper introduction. It was clear they were quite close, something that most Berkians’ had doubted despite Dagur’s claims. After what had happened with Chief Stoick the day before, she thought this would be the best approach. At least it showed more respect than simply walking up and starting to speak to him.

As she made her way over, she called out a friendly greeting. “Hey, Dagur.”

The redhead turned around and crossed his arms, staring at her irritably. “What do you want, Blondie?”

She bit back the retort that was on her lips and politely said, “I was hoping that you could introduce me to your friend.”

“Why,” he asked skeptically.

“Because it would be the civil thing to do,” she responded, attempting to not let her temper get the better of her as Dagur and the Dragon Master burst out laughing. She clenched her teeth and reminded herself that there was no sense ruining her chances before she had even begun.

“Since when has that ever influenced what I do,” he declared incredulously.

“Too true,” the Dragon Master agreed, clapping his friend on the back. “She did ask nicely, though,” he pointed out, “which is more than I can say for most people here.”

“Ugh, you’re such a spoilsport,” Dagur complained.

“I just let you throw knives at Snotlout and even joined in,” the Dragon Master exclaimed. “How is that being a spoilsport?”

“True,” Dagur reluctantly admitted, tapping his chin. “I guess-”

Astrid cleared her throat, afraid that if she didn’t remind them she was there, they might continue off on some other topic.

“Oh, right,” Dagur remarked. “Astrid, this is the Dragon Master.”

“It’s nice to officially meet you,” she greeted him. “Do you have another name, or how should I refer to you?”

“My name is only given to those I trust,” he revealed. “You can call me by my title. I’m used to it.”

“Oh, okay,” she replied, slightly disappointed. She had hoped to find out a little more about him, but she could understand that some things might take time. “If you’d like, I’d be happy to give you a tour of the village,” she offered, hoping to buy herself some of that time.

“I think I’ve seen all I need to from the air,” he commented, “and anything I missed I can ask Dagur, but thanks.”

“Of course,” she said, trying to remain friendly and open even though she was drawing a blank as to what else she could do to spend more time with him. “If there’s anything I can assist you with…”

“I know I can ask you,” he nodded in acknowledgment. “Thank you.”

“It’s the least I can do,” she observed before bidding them farewell.

It was not quite the promising start she had been hoping for, but she had gotten her foot in the door. Now she just had to figure out where to go from here.

-o0o-

“That was strange,” Dagur noted once the blonde was far enough away.

“Was it,” Ville inquired, quirking an eyebrow at his friend.

“Mmm,” Dagur hummed to himself before explaining, “She generally keeps to herself. Finest Shieldmaiden on Berk and one of their finest warriors.”

“Guess her dreams came true, then,” Ville responded, thinking about how that was her goal, even when they were young. She had always kept herself removed from the others, even back then, so, to an extent, it made sense that she wasn’t quite as rough as the other Berkians were.

“I guess,” Dagur shrugged, as they made their way back to the docks. “Family name is still tarnished, though.”

Ville glanced at his friend quizzically. “Even after all these years?”

“Her uncle froze against a Flightmare,” Dagur stated as if that explained everything. “You know how these Berkians are. It’s a hard thing to come back from.”

“Yeah, but it was a Flightmare,” Ville reasoned. “Can’t help getting hit by paralyzing mist anymore than you could have avoided getting hit by fire and yet these idiotic people value burn scars, don’t they?”

Dagur scoffed. “No one said they made sense. You should know that.”

Ville rolled his eyes. “I do. But there’s always hope that people will change for the better.”

“That hope is doomed to die,” his friend declared wryly, before turning to look at him. “What were you doing around here anyway? I kind of thought you would avoid the village.”

“Yeah, well, I was out for a flight and saw you harassing Snot,” he disclosed. “Figured I better make sure your mouth didn’t get the better of you. Plus, I was going to have to free him eventually.”

“Nah, he could have stayed like that forever,” Dagur proposed, waving his hand dismissively. “Think of how much better the world would be.”

Ville couldn’t help but chuckle. It was a tempting thought, but what was done was done, plus… “I’m not vindictive, Dagur. You know that.”

“You’re just too good for this world, oh mighty Dragon Master,” Dagur proclaimed, mockingly bowing to him.

“Would you just give it a rest,” Ville requested, shoving his friend playfully.

“Never,” Dagur grinned. “But now that you’re awake and not sneaking off who knows where, what do you say to a race with our dragons?”

“Toothless was kind of moody when I cut our flight short to make sure you weren’t causing trouble,” he replied, glancing at his friend knowingly, “so sure. Why not? It’s been a while since I’ve beaten you.”

“Don’t get too cocky,” Dagur warned him. “I’ll beat you yet!”

Ville laughed lightheartedly. “We’ll see about that.”

Chapter Text

Ruffnut waited until just after sunset to leave Gothi’s, timing her walk through the village for when most Berkians would already be at home or in the Great Hall. It wasn’t that she was trying to hide what she was doing, per se, but she would prefer not to draw attention to this particular outing.

The docks were rather deserted when she arrived, and she easily made her way to the ship that towered over the Berkian fleet. Walking up the gangplank, she was met on the deck by a Stormheart guard who was quick to ask what her business was.

“I was wondering if I could speak with the Dragon Master,” she responded.

“What about,” he pressed.

“Oh, uh, I just wanted to see if he would be willing to give me some advice,” she hesitantly said, hoping that would prove sufficient.

She was told to wait there and the guard disappeared into the hold. It was strange that he left her up here unattended, but then Ruffnut realized that was not true as she saw a small green and red dragon peeking around some crates. It was eyeing her warily and, as she tore her gaze away, she realized it was not the only one. There was another dragon of the same species watching from just behind the mast, and that wasn’t counting the Monstrous Nightmare that was perched on the mast itself. Strangely enough, it didn’t really bother her, especially after her somewhat friendly encounter with the Dragon Master’s dragon that morning. She figured if she stayed where she was and didn’t bother them, they would leave her alone.

Ruff was pulled from her thoughts by the Dragon Master himself calling out a greeting. “Hello, there.”

She turned to see that he was approaching with his dragon at his side and a Terror perched on his shoulder, wearing the same hood from that morning. “Hello, sir,” she replied. “I didn’t mean to bother you, but I was hoping I could maybe ask you for some advice.”

“About what,” he queried, tilting his head as he stroked the small dragon that had come to his side, the one who had been hiding behind the crates.

“I- Well, you see-” She huffed in frustration, not having thought through how she was going to phrase this. “I’m at a crossroads in my life, so to speak,” she finally shared, the Dragon Master seeming to have an endless store of patience as he had not rushed her. “I have the opportunity to fully pursue my interests, but it’s something that has been met with opposition by my family.”

“Your apprenticeship with Gothi,” he presumed, causing her jaw to drop.

“I- how did you-?”

“I’m observant,” he shrugged nonchalantly before his brow furrowed. “Not that I mind your coming here, but I don’t understand how I can help.”

“I want to be more like you,” Ruffnut declared.

He quirked an eyebrow. “Friends with the dragons?”

She shook her head. “No. Well…I don’t know. I guess it could be cool, but that wasn’t what I meant.” Taking a breath and trying to order her thoughts, she explained, “You’re not a big, burly Viking, but you’re powerful. You command respect. You’re also nice and not afraid to be yourself. How do you do that,” she asked earnestly. “Balance people’s perception of yourself while sticking to your morals? To your sense of self?”

“Wow, that’s a deep one,” he acknowledged. He took a moment before he responded, clearly thinking of the best way to answer her questions as he scratched the Terror’s chin, the black dragon wrapping its tail around him. “Well, I guess a lot of it comes down to knowing who I am,” he admitted. “I’ve been fortunate in that I have friends,” he stroked his dragon’s head, looking at him lovingly, “and family who support me, who’ve encouraged me to be the best version of myself I can be. They’ve taught me that strength is important, but it is nothing if you don’t have the smarts to wield it in the right way.”

Ruffnut snorted. “Snotlout’s a perfect example of that,” she commented wryly.

“I’ll have to take your word on that,” he responded, though his voice sounded lighter than it had, causing her to wonder if he was smiling beneath that mask. He invited her to take a seat on the crates and once they had settled, with several dragons draped across him, he continued. “Becoming the Dragon Master was actually something that I resisted at first. The stories that got spread about me were rather exaggerated and portrayed me as something I’m not. But my sister gave me some good advice.”

“What was it,” she inquired curiously.

“Often, people will not show respect unless they feel it is deserved,” he stated. “In my case, I wouldn’t hold much sway over anyone as the Chief of Tulva’s younger brother or as a simple blacksmith.” He held one finger up. “But as the Dragon Master, I’ve been able to build up a reputation.”

“And a pretty amazing one at that,” Ruff proclaimed, wondering just how much of the stories she had heard were true.

“Thanks,” he said sincerely, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. “I didn’t do it for the fame, you know,” he revealed. “I did it to help the dragons. I created an image that lived up to people’s perception of me, giving them what they wanted, so I could get what I wanted.”

“That makes sense,” Ruffnut observed, “but I don’t see how it would work for me.”

“You said the problem was your family,” the Dragon Master prompted her.

“Yeah, my brother,” she confided. “We’re twins, you see, and we used to do everything together, but things have changed. He’s always been more violent than me and he’s just gotten worse.”

The Dragon Master seemed to tense, his tone icy as he said, “He harms you?”

“No…well, sometimes,” she admitted, “but if he does, I give it right back to him just as bad. That’s just how we are.” Ruff shrugged before letting out a sigh. “But he just doesn’t get how important this is to me. Nobody does. Being a healer here is a pretty thankless job. Even Gothi is barely respected and she’s an elder. There’s a reason she wields that staff of hers so expertly.”

Her companion gave a slight laugh at that mental image. “I can see how that would pose a problem,” he conceded, tapping his finger on his chin. “I know you came to speak with me, but would you care to explain your problem to my family? I’m sure between all of us we could figure something out.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude,” she protested, surprised she had been granted so much time with the Dragon Master as it was.

“You wouldn’t be,” he claimed as he got to his feet and held out his hand. “In fact, we were just about to eat, so you can join us for dinner.”

It was a kind offer and she was hungry, but she shook her head. “Oh, I couldn’t-”

“Nonsense,” he insisted, helping her to her feet and leading her a few steps toward the hold. “I’m sure they’d love to meet you, and I promise they don’t bite. Please join us.“

She wasn’t sure if this was a good idea or not, but even though she hardly knew him, she trusted the Dragon Master. Maybe it helped that he seemed to be on good terms with Gothi, but regardless of the reason, she found herself caving and allowing herself to be led into the bowels of the ship. And if for some reason things went horribly wrong, well, at least she wouldn’t have to worry about her predicament any longer.

Chapter Text

Ruffnut followed the Dragon Master into what appeared to be a common room, surprised to find several dragons and more people there than his two brothers that she had seen the day before, though one face was familiar.

“Hey guys,” he greeted his family. “I brought a guest to join us. She could use some help. Ruffnut, this is-”

“How do you know my name,” she cut in, staring at him accusingly.

“Hmm? Oh, Gothi told me,” he said nonchalantly, but before he could resume his introductions, she had another question for him.

“How do you know her anyway?”

The Dragon Master rubbed the back of his neck, starting to look rather uncomfortable. “That’s rather complicated and a story for another time,” he hedged. Gesturing to the one person she knew, he changed the subject, saying, “Now, I’m assuming you are at least familiar with Dagur?”

She nodded slightly and he moved on, finishing the introductions and even including the dragons. He then led her to the table and invited her to take a seat, pulling off his hood as he sat down himself.

“Vilhehn!”

“What,” the Dragon Master responded to what was presumably his name. Ruff noticed the slight flick of Viggo’s eyes, looking at the hood before returning to his brother’s face which was now wearing a guilty expression. “I’m hungry,” he exclaimed, “and she already saw my face when I went to visit Gothi.”

Viggo’s eyes narrowed. “You are sure she poses no risk?”

“Positive,” Vilhehn nodded firmly. “Raske confirmed it. She’s sincere.”

“Who is Raske,” she chimed in. “The guard?”

Vilhehn smirked. “You could say that,” he replied before piling food on both their plates, asking for her preferences as he went. It was a bit of courtesy she was not expecting, but one that she found she liked…just as she liked his name. It suited him.

Once everyone had begun their meal, Viggo turned to her and said, “Ville would not have brought you here unless there was a good reason. How can we help you?”

“Well…” Ruffnut took a deep breath and launched into describing the situation she found herself in, providing a bit more detail this time around.

When she finished, the table was silent for but a moment before Heddi asked, “And what prevents you from simply moving into the healer’s hut?”

“Nothing, I guess, but…” she trailed off, unsure how to put what she felt into words.

“You feel like you are abandoning your brother,” Viggo supplied, his fingers steepled. “Giving up hope on him, so to speak.”

“I- I suppose,” she admitted, slowly nodding her head. “I hadn’t thought about it that way, but, yes.”

“And if you were to move up there, how would things change,” Viggo queried.

“I’d be in the village less,” she supposed, “and I wouldn’t see my brother as much.”

“Would that be good or bad,” Heddi inquired.

“Both,” she hesitantly responded, a hint of a question in her voice. “The few times I spent the night at Gothi’s, Tuff was even nastier than normal when I saw him next day, accusing me of abandoning him even though he hardly spends any time with me nowadays.”

“Not everyone has family members who treat them well,” Norell observed soberly. “And in those situations, sometimes the best thing we can do is leave.”

“You sound as if you speak from experience,” Ruff noted, taking a better look at the other woman.

“I do,” she replied sadly, leaning against Ryker as he wrapped an arm around her. “The only difference is my brother and I were in that situation together and we left our village completely. We were traders for a while, so we would still visit upon occasion, sometimes we would spend the winter there, but we had little to do with our remaining family.”

Ruffnut sighed and rested her chin in her palm, leaning on the table. “Berk’s not that big. I don’t think I could avoid Tuffnut completely... I just don’t know what to do.”

“What about a trial run,” Vilhehn suggested. “Or if things don’t work out, would it make it harder for you to return home?”

“It might,” she confessed, “but it’s honestly getting to the point that I don’t know if I would want to go back there once I left.”

“Suppose you make your move now, while we are here,” Viggo proposed. “We will do what we can to help mitigate the damages.”

That caught Ruff by surprise. “You would? But, why?”

“Anyone who treats their family like that is scum,” Ryker growled, speaking up for the first time since the introductions had been completed.

“While I would not have put it so bluntly, what my brother says is true,” Viggo declared. “You sought us out for help, so we will lend what aid we can. And if your situation here becomes untenable, you would be more than welcome to join us on Tulva.”

“Or Berserker Island,” Dagur offered with that wild grin of his, but she could see that beneath that, he meant what he said. “Your choice.”

“I-I don’t know what to say,” she stammered.

“Well, don’t say anything yet,” Vilhehn remarked. “See how this goes and you can figure out things from there.”

“I will,” she nodded, smiling at the other Vikings gratefully. “Thank you.”

The rest of dinner was quite enjoyable and she was invited to return whenever she wanted, Heddi and Norell in particular encouraging her to visit as much as her schedule would allow. Vilhehn even walked her home, something that was entirely unnecessary but proved his innate goodness, especially when he inquired if she would like him to hang around in case her brother was wont to raise a fuss.

“Nah,” she said, waving off his concern as her house was completely dark. “Tuff’s probably up at the Great Hall with Snotlout, celebrating his good fortune to be out of that junk. What was it anyway?”

“Death Song amber,” Vilhehn revealed. “It’s near impenetrable, though I heard you found that out yourself.”

“Well, I wasn’t about to pass up an opportunity to put Snotlout through the wringer,” she grinned. Tuffnut had actually asked politely for her help rather than demanding it, which had been nice, but revenge on Snotlout for being such a bad influence was her main motivation for lending a hand. “I will have you know, I’m the smarter of the two twins,” she declared proudly.

“I never doubted it,” Vilhehn responded, bowing playfully. “If you’d like, barring the return of the Whispering Deaths, Toothless and I can help you move your things tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” she replied. “I’d appreciate that.”

He nodded and said, “No problem. I’ll see you in the morning. And if you need anything before then-

“You’re much closer than Gothi and have a small horde of dragons at your disposal,” she reasoned, giving him a wink. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She thought he was grinning, but it was hard to tell with the hooded mask he had put back on before leaving the ship. He wished her goodnight before she could ask about that and she slipped into her house, lighting the fire so she wouldn’t freeze overnight. 

As she puttered around the house, setting a few things right before laying out some of the things she would pack in the morning, she thought back over her interactions with the Dragon Master…Vilhehn. She had seen a different side of him tonight, and it only increased the feeling that there was something familiar about him. Something about his very handsome face… 

She would figure it out eventually, but in the meantime, she was determined to make the most of the coming change in her life and to enjoy her new friendships.

Chapter Text

When Ville got back to the ship, he went right to his quarters as his leg was starting to bother him and he wanted to get his prosthetic off. He was sitting on his bunk, drawing in his journal, when Norell knocked on his doorframe and popped her head in.

“So, do I dare ask,” she said lightly, one eyebrow quirked.

Ville’s brow furrowed, not sure what she was referring to. “About what?”

“About Ruffnut,” she clarified, pulling over a stool and sitting down.

“What about her?”

Norell shrugged and looked at him knowingly. “You seemed really comfortable with her. You even let her see your face.”

“Yeah, well, that was kind of an accident,” he admitted, shutting his journal and giving his sister his full attention. “I wasn’t expecting anyone else to be up at Gothi’s but since that ship had sailed, I saw no reason to keep covering myself up around her. Plus, she was always the nicest of the other children growing up, though she had to hide it, so if I was going to reveal myself to any of them, it would be to her. By the way, I’m going to help her move her stuff tomorrow,” he shared.

“You should take someone else with you,” she suggested.

He gestured to the Night Fury who was pleasantly sleeping. “Toothless was-”

“Another human,” she specified, “just in case. Take Ryker,” she proposed. “He’s itching for some action.”

While Ville could understand why Norell volunteered her husband, he wasn’t sure if it was the best of ideas and had no problem saying so. “I don’t think I should encourage the kind of action he’s looking for right now.”

“He’ll behave,” Norell reassured him, waving her hand dismissively, “but if something does crop up, it'll give him a chance to blow off some steam.”

“Okay, I’ll ask him,” he nodded. “Maybe we can spar or something afterward.”

“It would be appreciated,” Norell said gratefully. “I’ve never seen him wound up so tight. I know this situation is hard for all of us, especially you brothers and Dagur as well, but if tensions get too high…”

“Don’t worry, Norell,” Ville assured her. “I’m past caring what the Berkians think and I can generally keep Dagur in line. Plus, Ryker and Viggo’s self-control is legendary. I mean, look at all they had to deal with as I was growing up.”

She laughed. “True. You didn’t make it easy, and I wasn’t even there for all of it.” She got up and put the stool back, saying, “I know everything will be fine, but some extra outlets couldn’t hurt, just in case.”

“I’ll speak with Ryker in the morning,” he promised.

“Thank you,” Norell said, giving him a hug before bidding him a good night.

-o0o-

“What are we doing again,” Ryker grumbled from atop Kuori as the Rumblehorn launched into the air, following Toothless’ lead.

“Helping Ruffnut move her stuff,” Ville reminded his brother, though he knew he hadn’t forgotten what they were doing. He was just looking for an excuse to avoid the Berkians in general.

“And why am I here,” Ryker requested irritably.

Deciding not to beat around the bush this time, Ville responded, “Because Norell asked me to get you out of her hair. And if I need backup, you’re the most intimidating.”

“You better believe it,” Ryker growled, Kuori rumbling in agreement.

Ville laughed at the fierce expression on his brother’s face, knowing that it hid a heart of gold. A sly smile crept across his face as he said, “I feel for whatever boys are brave enough to court Ansa and Immi.”

His brother glared at him. “Bite your tongue,” he snapped, which only made Ville laugh harder. As protective as Ryker was as a brother, he was ten times more so when it came to his daughters, and they weren't even five yet. 

He couldn’t tease his brother further, though, as they were approaching Ruffnut’s. Toothless and Kuori landed, Ryker staying atop his Rumblehorn and eyeing the surrounding huts suspiciously, as if enemies were about to burst out of them at any moment. Ville dismounted and went to knock on the door, while Toothless jumped onto the roof, apparently wanting a better vantage point just in case things did not go well. Ville hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but it was nice knowing that his family was more than prepared for any situation that may arise.

It didn’t take long for Ruffnut to open the door and he greeted her cordially. “Hey, Ruffnut. You ready, or do you need help with anything?”

“I’m good to go,” she announced. “Tuff didn’t even come home last night so I was able to pack in peace this morning. It’s just this trunk,” she informed him, gesturing to said piece of luggage sitting by the front door.

It wasn’t a particularly large trunk, and Ville couldn’t help but ask, “That’s all?”

Ruffnut shrugged. “Yeah, not really much that I want to take with me.”

Ville supposed he could understand, but when he went to lift the trunk, he was surprised by how light it was. It couldn’t be but half-full, if that, making him wonder just how much Ruff really had. After all, his sisters had each packed more than this for their trip. While he realized that Tulva was prosperous and being part of the Chief’s family had its perks, every Stormheart owned at least several changes of clothes, not to mention personal items, that they would take with them if they were moving.

Ville was not about to pry, but he was concerned, especially considering how Ruff said healers were treated here. Perhaps there would be a way to discuss this with Gothi, maybe slip her a few coins that could be used to get the two of them a few needed items. Ville had more than enough gold and it would be a nice way to pay back those who had helped him all those years ago.

He balanced the small trunk on one shoulder and was about to gesture for Ruffnut to go ahead of him, but just then, the sound of raised voices met his ears. He stepped toward the door, not sure of what they would find, only to discover his way was blocked by his brother who was apparently guarding the entrance.

“What’s going on here,” he inquired, resulting in Ryker stepping aside, allowing Ville and Ruffnut an unimpeded view of a fuming Tuffnut as they exited the hut.

“He won’t let me-” Tuffnut broke off, only now seeming to realize that Ruff had not been in the hut by herself. “Who are you and what are you doing here,” he demanded, glaring mostly at Ville, though Ryker received a fair share of his ire as well.

“He’s helping me move my stuff to Gothi’s,” Ruffnut spoke up, drawing her twin’s attention to her.

Tuff’s looked at her in confusion. “Why would you do that?”

“Because she offered to let me move in with her,” Ruffnut answered, “and I’m sick of dealing with you.”

“But sis,” Tuff reached out and grabbed his sister’s wrist, but Ville was not about to tolerate that.

He pried Tuffnut’s hand off and, gently pushing Ruffnut behind him, stepped between them, firmly saying, “I believe she made her decision clear.” Kuori seemed to have joined Toothless as he heard two growls from the roof, both of the dragons backing him up.

Tuffnut was not having it though, puffing out his chest and asking, “Who are you to insert yourself in family matters?”

Ruff leaned around Ville and revealed, “I went to him for advice and he was kind enough to offer his help.”

“You don’t even know him,” Tuffnut declared incredulously.

“Maybe not,” Ruff admitted, “but Gothi does and she trusts him, that’s good enough for me.” She nodded decisively. “Plus, he’s actually nice and respectful, which is more than I can say for you.”

“That’s pretty harsh,” Tuff accused, trying to flip things around and play the victim.

“If the boot fits,” Ruffnut retorted.

That really riled her brother up. “How dare you?!”

His arm jerked back as if to swing a powerful blow, but before it could gather any forward momentum, Ryker grabbed it, growling, “I’d watch it if I were you.”

Their lovely discussion was interrupted at that moment, by Chief Stoick storming over. “What’s going on here,” he demanded, looking between the offending parties, his gaze lingering on Ville and his brother, automatically assuming they were the ones causing trouble. Of course, the fact that their dragons had joined them and were currently growling at the overlarge Viking did not help their cause.

Before he could speak in their defense, though, Ruffnut stepped forward. “The Dragon Master was just giving me a hand moving my things up to Gothi’s.”

Stoick looked at him skeptically. “Why would he do that?”

It took everything Ville had not to roll his eyes as he replied, “I don’t know, maybe common decency?” He knew all too well how horrible the Berkians could be, but to question a simple act of kindness just was too much.

The Chief didn’t seem to want to believe him, but as he had no proof otherwise, there was little he could actually do. “I don’t want to hear that you’ve been making trouble,” he warned.

Ville scoffed. As if. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he told the Chief, turning to his brother, who had already mounted Kuori, and passing him Ruffnut’s trunk. Ryker shot him a questioning glance, clearly thrown off by the lightness of the piece of luggage, but there wasn’t much he could do other than give his brother a slight shrug.

Noting that while the Chief had departed, Tuffnut was still glaring daggers at his sister, Ville mounted Toothless and held out a hand to Ruff. “Can I give you a lift?”

He could see that she was hesitant, but after a quick glance at her steaming brother, she threw back her shoulders and said, “Sure, why not?”

He helped her mount and then advised, “You might want to hold on.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist just before Toothless took flight, and was soon exclaiming, “This is great! Do you do this a lot?”

“All the time,” he responded, grinning to himself as Toothless took the scenic route up to Gothi’s. His grin was short-lived though as he felt his hood being tugged off his hair.

“So what’s with this?”

He hastily grabbed the hood and repositioned it as he explained, “I generally prefer to keep my identity a secret. Most tribes don’t even know that I’m the younger brother of the Chief of the Stormhearts, but we’ve heard about how stubborn and narrow-minded the Berkians are and figured we might need to wield all the power at our disposal. Gothi and Gobber know my name, as do you, but if you could refrain from using it around anyone else, I’d appreciate it,” he requested, though considering she had referred to him as the Dragon Master in front of Stoick, he felt that she had already surmised as much.

They landed on Gothi’s porch and as Ruffnut dismounted, Ville said, “You and Gothi are more than welcome to join us for dinner. I could come and collect you, if you want?”

Ruffnut smiled at him after thanking Ryker for carrying her trunk. “It would be nice to avoid the Great Hall after all that,” she admitted. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” he nodded in acknowledgment. “I’ll see you tonight, then.”

Chapter Text

Ville was breathing hard by the time he managed to disarm his oldest brother.

“You’re getting too good,” Ryker grumbled good-naturedly, wiping the sweat from his forehead.

He grinned, responding, “I have my teacher to thank for that.”

The two of them headed over to where they had left their canteens and sat down on some convenient boulders, watching their dragons play in the ocean as they took a break. They had chosen this beach as it was the furthest you could get from the village without leaving Berk, but the views weren’t half bad either.

Ryker soon broke the silence, inquiring if Ville felt better.

He glanced at his brother in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I figured you could probably use this as much as me,” Ryker admitted, “what with coming back here and all.” He took another swig of water before asking, “How are you holding up?”

Ville shrugged. “It’s actually not that bad.” At the skeptical look on his brother’s face, he added, “Yeah, most everyone is familiar in some way or another and I wouldn’t want to stay here indefinitely, but I’ve had so many good memories to replace the bad that, for the most part, I can just treat them like complete strangers.”

“For the most part,” Ryker repeated, his gaze telling Ville that he was not about to leave before he explained.

“Yeah, well, my…former family is a little harder to deal with,” he confessed, screwing up his face a bit. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be completely rid of those memories, but I haven’t had to face any of them on my own. There’s always been someone else there, you or Toothless or Dagur. That helps ground me in the present,” he shared. “Reminds me I’m not that little mistreated kid anymore, and thanks to your training, I could take any one of them,” he proclaimed.

One of Ryker’s eyebrows shot up. “Even Stoick?”

Ville nodded slowly. “I think so. I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re a better fighter than he is and I win almost half our bouts now, so…” He snuck a glance at his older brother to see him rolling his eyes, but it was true. “Berkians fight with their strength,” he disclosed, remembering how his small size and lack of muscles had been part of the reason he was swept aside when he was little. “They don’t really put any thought into it, not like us Stormhearts do,” he declared, proud of who he had become and of the tribe that had adopted him. He couldn’t help but smirk as he added, “Plus, I’m pretty fast and agile, not to mention the quality of my weapons.”

Ryker just shook his head, though he did say, “Aye, we do have a fine blacksmith on Tulva. I’d hate for anything to happen to him, though, so he better watch his back.” The look that accompanied his statement carried plenty of meaning and Ville did his best to reassure him.

“I’m sure he will,” he replied before getting to his feet. “One more round before we head back?” His brother agreed, and though Ville did not win this time, it was still a good match, one that lasted quite a while.

Remounting their dragons to return to the other side of the island, he told Ryker, “I’m going to check in with Gobber before I head back to the ship.”

“Can’t last another day without being in a forge,” his brother queried, giving him a knowing look.

Ville shrugged as the dragons leaped into the air, a grin sweeping across his face though it was hidden beneath his hood. “Something like that.”

“Be careful,” Ryker requested.

“I will,” he promised. “Plus, Toothless will probably be keeping watch on the roof.”

“And where else would I be,” Toothless claimed, his tone conveying his offense that Ryker would think he’d abandon his best friend in the midst of their enemies.

“See. I’ll be fine,” he remarked, not even bothering to translate as he could tell his brother had gotten Toothless’ message. “Depending on how late I stay, I may just go from there to pick up Ruffnut and Gothi.”

Ryker nodded and said he’d let the others know before Kuori peeled off, heading toward their ship, while Toothless descended into the village, landing right in front of the forge.

Ville walked up to the hatch and called out, “Hey, Gobber!”

The blacksmith hobbled out, a delighted grin on his face. “Hallo there, Vi-” He cut himself off and quickly corrected himself. “-Dragon Master. How can I help ye?”

“I was actually going to ask you that very question,” Ville responded lightly.

Gobber’s brow furrowed. “But laddie, why would ye-”

“I’m itching to be in a forge, Gobber. Please,” he entreated.

“Yer always welcome here,” Gobber assured him, waving for him to enter before lowering his voice and continuing, “or have ye forgotten that?”

“Thanks,” Ville said earnestly as Toothless jumped on the roof. Looking around the space he remembered from his youth, he asked, “What would you like me to do?”

“All these are in fer repairs,” Gobber answered, gesturing to a rather large pile. “If yer sure ye don’t mind?”

“I’d be glad to,” he replied happily, removing an axe from the top of the pile and getting to work. “This may not be the forge back home,” he said softly, just loud enough for Gobber to hear, “but it has some good memories too.”

The blacksmith smiled at him sentimentally before grabbing a weapon to work on himself. “Now, why don’t ye tell me about this forge of yers.”

Ville grinned and proceeded to regale Gobber with the description of a forge five times the size of this one. With multiple blacksmiths working there at any given time, it had to be large enough to accommodate them all so they could keep up with the demand for Gronckle Iron weapons, it being one of their best exports. Of course, Ville had his own corner there for working on inventions, both for himself and for the village.

Between the lively conversation and the hard work, Ville lost track of time, thoroughly enjoying himself.

-o0o-

Astrid stepped into the forge after a particularly strenuous training in the forest. “Gobber, I was wondering if you could-” She stopped short upon seeing the Dragon Master hammering a sword back into shape. He glanced at her, one eyebrow raised, and she was quick to answer his unspoken question. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“Your blacksmith was kind enough to let me join him,” he shared, flipping the sword over and hitting it a couple of more times before shoving it back into the hearth.

“You’re a blacksmith,” she asked, intrigued by this new facet of the Dragon Master.

He nodded and started sorting through Gobber’s pile of weapons that needed to be repaired. “Started my training when I was just a little tyke,” he commented offhandedly, more focused on what was in front of him than on her. But how could she change that…?

Her gaze was diverted by Gobber’s arrival as he came out of the back room. “What did ye need help with, lassie?”

“I just needed to get my axe sharpened,” she stated, holding out her most beloved weapon.

Gobber took it from her and gave it a quick look. “Attack one too many trees, did ye?”

“Perhaps,” she reluctantly admitted.

“Laddie,” the blacksmith called out, gaining the Dragon Master’s attention. “Would ye mind taking care of this one for me?”

“Sure,” he responded, expertly catching the axe that Gobber threw his way and immediately giving the weapon a once over.

Astrid did not doubt Gobber’s judgment, but that was her most prized possession he had just passed over to a stranger. True, she was hoping to maybe make him more than that, but she didn’t know him yet. “Are you sure you trust him,” she inquired, keeping her voice low.

“Positively,” Gobber replied, giving her a firm nod. “He does exceptional work.”

“The balance is a little off,” the Dragon Master spoke up, eyeing her axe critically. “I think it’s about time for a new handle. Did you want me to take care of that, too?”

She had thought something was wrong toward the end of her training but brushed it off, thinking she had just been pushing herself too hard and needed a break. At least this explained why her last throws had not been absolutely perfect. Impressed by the Dragon Master’s attention to detail, she nodded. “Yes, please. I’d appreciate it.”

“I’ll have it done in an hour or less, if you want to come back,” he told her, already working on removing the handle.

“I don’t mind hanging around,” she commented, thinking that this was the perfect opportunity to observe him and get to know him a bit better.

“Suit yourself,” he shrugged, his gaze firmly focused on her axe.

Wanting to get him talking, she said, “So, how did you get this line of work?”

“When I was younger, I spent a lot of time with my village blacksmith,” he shared, removing the last bits of the handle and cleaning out the eye of her axe. “I was too little to do anything, but I learned a lot and became fascinated with the art. When I was old enough, I was invited to apprentice and quickly progressed.”

“It’s nice that you found something to do that you love,” she acknowledged.

“It is,” he agreed, glancing at her briefly as he grabbed another handle. “I’m grateful Gobber was willing to let me join him, as I was itching to pound some metal.”

She laughed at his lighthearted remark. “Well, I’m glad we were able to provide you with something to do since those Whispering Deaths seem to be taking their sweet time about returning.”

That seemed to catch his attention and he finally looked at her for more than a few seconds, pausing his efforts to attach her new handle. “Is it longer than normal this time,” he asked.

“Mmm, it varies,” she responded, “but I think there was once that was longer than this.”

He nodded and returned to his work. “Good to know. I can’t stick around forever, but I would hate to leave only for them to show up right afterward.” The silence stretched between them as he finished with the new handle, double-checking to make sure that the balance was right. “Let me just give this a sharpen and then it’ll be all ready for you,” he told her, moving over to the sharpening wheel.

She could tell that his movements were born of much practice, which spoke well of him, and the fact that he was a blacksmith only strengthened her conviction that he was stronger than he let on.

Her axe was soon finished and he passed it to her, asking if it was satisfactory.

Astrid hefted it a few times, and said, “Much better. Thank you.”

“Not a problem,” he replied, waving off her thanks. “I’ll let Gobber take care of your payment as I’m not familiar with how you do things around here.”

With that, he disappeared into the back room, sending Gobber out, though he did not return himself. She paid the blacksmith what she owed, and set off for home, no longer having an excuse to hang around.

She would have to check back at the forge more often, though, as it seemed a likely place to find the Dragon Master. Perhaps she could invite him to spar with her or maybe bring him a meal. Not something she cooked herself as that would ruin any slight chance she had, but maybe something from the Great Hall or some bread if it was her mom’s baking day.

Chapter Text

Ville was just about to get started reshaping a mace when he was interrupted by Dagur walking into the forge.

“What was she doing here,” his friend demanded, gesturing out the hatch window.

He shot Dagur a questioning look. “Who?”

“Astrid.”

“Oh, she needed some work done on her axe,” he replied, turning his attention back to the mace.

“You sure that’s why she was here,” the Berserker pressed.

“Well, yeah,” Ville responded distractedly. “It needed to be sharpened and the balance was off. I had to replace the handle. Why?”

Dagur crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. “I don’t trust her hanging around you so much.”

“She didn’t even know I was here,” Ville reasoned, “and compared to most of the Berkians, she’s been fairly nice.”

“Too nice if you ask me,” Dagur grumbled.

Seeing as his friend was not about to drop this topic, Ville set the mace aside and asked, “What are you getting at?”

Dagur stared at him as if he was trying to puzzle something out. “You don’t see it, do you?”

Ville’s brow furrowed, not understanding whatever point his friend was trying to make. “What?”

“You’re a good catch,” he stated emphatically.

“Wha- No, I’m sure that has nothing to do with anything,” Vilhehn protested, waving off his friend’s declaration. “Plus, you’re more eligible than I am.”

“Mmm, I’d say we’re equal,” Dagur countered, fingering a random blade he had picked up. “We’re both sons of Chiefs and, while I may be heir, you’re the Dragon Master and pretty powerful in your own right. Doesn’t matter in my case, though, because the Berkians know better than to try and get too chummy with me,” he reasoned. “That goes for Blondie, too.” Dagur must have seen that Ville was still not convinced as he added, “I’d have to see more to know for sure, but from what little I know of her, I’d say she’s fishing for better prospects.”

“How come you’re accusing her and not Ruffnut,” Ville inquired. “She’s spent more time with me than Astrid has.”

“It’s different,” his friend maintained. “Ruff’s situation reminds me a lot of yours in certain ways, while Astrid has always been the Berkian darling.”

“But she’s a shieldmaiden,” Ville argued, thinking that Dagur was just seeing things. “So why would she be looking for a mate?”

“Not that I’ve been listenin’ to yer conversation or anything,” Gobber chimed in, “but the scuttlebutt is that Astrid’s parents are pressurin’ her to marry.”

“And let’s face it, you’re a much better option than these losers,” Dagur proclaimed, waving vaguely toward the inhabitants of Berk.

Ville just rolled his eyes, not amused by what his friend was implying. “Well, it’s not going to happen, so I don’t see that you have anything to worry about.”

“Just watch your back,” Dagur warned, eyeing him sternly.

“Don’t I always,” he retorted before turning the conversation. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“Ryker told me you were here and I was getting bored,” Dagur shared, trading the blade he had been fiddling with for a bludgeon.

“So…” Ville prompted.

“So, let’s go do something,” his friend proposed enthusiastically.

“I’m already doing something,” he remarked, picking up the mace he had been working on only to see that it had cooled too much.

“Ugh, you’re no fun,” Dagur complained.

Ville returned the mace to the hearth and looked back at his friend. “I would say to go find Snotlout and harass him, but I don’t want to cause any more trouble than we have to.”

“Pity,” Dagur sighed. “That was the best offer I’ve had all day.”

“You’re the one who invited yourself along,” he pointed out. “You can always go back home if you’re that bored.”

Dagur looked at him incredulously. “And leave you here with those knuckleheads? Nope, not happening.”

“Then make yerself useful,” Gobber ordered, jumping back into their conversation and tossing the Berserker an old rag.

“How,” he asked, holding up the tattered fabric quizzically.

“Ye can give those a polish,” Gobber said, gesturing toward the pile of weapons that had already been repaired.

Dagur’s expression quickly turned to one of distaste and it was all Ville could do not to laugh. “You’re sure I can’t convince you to go do something else,” the Berserker asked almost desperately.

“Nope,” Ville replied, pulling the mace back out and getting to work. He needed this time in the forge to relax and Gobber clearly could use the help, so he was not about to abandon him.

“Fine,” Dagur sighed dramatically, picking up an axe and beginning to polish it. “At least if I’m here I can talk with you. It’s better than being left to my own devices,” he justified, “but that’s the only reason I’m staying!”

-o0o-

Toothless landed lightly on Gothi’s porch, but before Ville could dismount, Ruff was already stepping outside, closing the door behind her.

“Hey Ruffnut,” he greeted her. “Are you and Gothi ready?”

“I am,” she replied, “but Gothi said she’s going to stay here.”

Ville’s brow furrowed, surprised by the change in plans. “Does she not want to join us or…?”

“She said she’s really tired and is going to head to bed early,” Ruffnut explained, though there was something in the way she responded, how she was awkwardly refusing to meet his gaze, that made Ville think there was more to the situation than that.

He was not about to pry, though, and simply said, “Oh, well, maybe next time.”

Ruffnut jumped on behind him and the flight to the ship was quickly made. Everyone was pleased to see her again and after greetings were exchanged, they all set down to eat.

“So, Ruffnut, is there anything in particular that Berk is known for,” Heddi asked, getting the conversation started. “Something you trade that is unique to here?”

“Well, once the dragons stopped attacking so much, our wool trade took off,” Ruffnut shared. “The flocks were finally able to grow and some of the traders have standing orders.”

It did not escape Ville’s notice that Norell perked up at that piece of information. “Ryden has been looking for a new wool supplier,” she mused aloud.

“We are not setting up a trade agreement with Berk,” Ryker growled, but Norell was not about to back down that easily.

“Good wool is hard to find,” she maintained.

“That it may be,” Viggo acknowledged, “but I do not believe we are that desperate.”

“Can I at least look while we’re here,” Norell requested, turning to her husband. “I’m going to need fabric soon for new clothes for the twins. May as well get it now and start working on them as a way to fill my time while we’re here.”

“It would not hurt to at least see what they have to offer,” Heddi added, looking at Viggo hopefully, probably thinking of getting some fabric for clothes for Elisabet and Niko as well.

“Did you bring any gold with you,” Viggo inquired, raising one eyebrow.

“Well, no,” Heddi admitted, “but-”

“I did,” Ville chimed in. He knew his brothers would not want to do anything that could benefit Berk, but if the wool was as nice as Ruff said it was, he saw no reason for his sisters not to purchase any. “I always keep a few coins on me,” he continued, “and I’m sure I can whip up a few things to trade.”

“Ville, you do not need to humor them,” Viggo insisted, staring at him meaningfully.

“But I want to,” he said earnestly, hoping he could get his point across without giving his true identity away to Ruffnut, who was looking slightly confused at all this. “Look, I’m not saying we make an agreement or anything,” he reasoned, “but doing business with them may help them to see us in a better light and I’m not against keeping the peace.”

Norell eyed him warily. “If you expect me not to haggle-”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else,” he reassured her with a slight smile, “but I also know you won’t pay less than what is fair.” Hoping to distract Ruffnut while also garnering some information, he asked, “Is there any call for beads or engraved pendants? Or any type of jewelry?”

“The traders don’t carry such often,” Ruffnut revealed, “but they are quickly bought when they are available. Why?”

“Perfect,” Ville grinned. “I’ll engrave some pendants tonight and I can head to the forge tomorrow to form the beads.”

Ruffnut tilted her head. “But don’t you need supplies or something?”

“I’ve got plenty of scales,” he disclosed with a wink. “What more would I need?”

With that, Heddi and Norell made plans to go to the market the next afternoon, inviting Ruff to accompany them if she was free. The thought of how light the Berkian’s trunk had been still lingered in Ville’s mind and he resolved to talk with his sisters later that night to see if they could maybe manage to get something for Ruff as well with whatever funds he was able to provide.

Chapter Text

Norell and Heddi stepped out from the hold the next afternoon only to find their husbands armed to the hilt and supposedly waiting for them.

“Where are you two off to,” Norell asked warily, having a sneaking suspicion she already knew the answer.

“We’re coming with you,” Ryker declared, confirming her theory, though in her opinion, their presence was completely unnecessary.

“We have our weapons and we’re meeting Ville at the forge,” she reminded them. “Plus, I think he has Karl and Loni with him so they can keep an eye on things from the nearby roofs. We’ll be fine,” she assured them.

“That you may be,” Viggo acknowledged, “but we would both feel better if we were to accompany you.”

Heddi, the traitor, sidled up to her husband, saying, “I’d never object to your company.”

Norell, on the other hand, glared at Ryker askance. “You do realize you can be rather smothering at times.”

“If it keeps my family safe, then I don’t care,” he declared, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close.

She sighed long-sufferingly, but it was all for show. She didn’t truly mind them coming, as long as they left the trading to her. If they tried to horn in on her negotiations, though, they were going to have a situation on their hands.

The four of them made their way up to the village and to the forge where Ville was already waiting outside with Sharpshot perched on his shoulder.

“Glad you could make it,” he greeted them, his eyes crinkling around the corners. “I got everything done and I think they turned out quite nice.”

He passed the satchel to Norell and she eagerly opened it, admiring the pieces he had completed. They were excellent quality, though she would expect nothing less from her brother, and should provide them with more than enough wool, providing the merchants were reasonable.

“All we’re waiting on now is-”

“I’m here! I’m here,” Ruff called out, rushing over and interrupting Vilhehn. “Sorry, it took me a little longer,” she apologized while attempting to catch her breath. Her glance at their assembled group did not go unnoticed, so Norell was not surprised when she said, “I thought our party was going to be much smaller?”

“Well, some husbands are a little overprotective,” Norell observed, glancing sideways at Ryker. She was honestly surprised that Dagur hadn’t joined them as well, being the only member of their party who was missing, and wondered what her husband and his brothers had done to evade him.

“I think it’s kind of sweet,” Ruffnut observed, smiling slightly before waving for the others to follow her. “Come on. The stalls are over here.”

The Berkian led them over to a series of stalls, one of them holding a wide assortment of fine wool. Norell ran her hand over it appreciatively, more than pleased with the quality.

Her satisfaction was short-lived, though, as the owner of the stall sneered and said, “We don’t sell to just anyone.”

“And I don’t buy unless the goods are of the finest quality,” she retorted, pausing for a moment before feigning reluctance and admitting, “I suppose these will do. Do you accept items in trade?”

“No,” the seller responded gruffly. “Only gold coins.”

“What a pity,” she sighed wistfully, having planned ahead for just such resistance. She pulled a necklace and two pendants from the satchel, holding them up so that the light caught them and turned to Ville. “Looks like your hard work was for naught, brother. They won’t accept your pieces.”

“Oh, well,” he shrugged, playing along. “I’m sure we can take them up to the Northern Markets. They’ll fetch a fine price there.”

As they were turning to walk away, the seller called out for them to wait and asked if he might have a better look at the items they were willing to trade.

Norell passed him one of the smaller pendants, not trusting him enough to let him handle one of the beaded necklaces until a deal had been struck.

“I suppose we could come to some kind of arrangement,” the owner of the stall hesitantly conceded, but Norell recognized that look in his eye. He was hooked and willing to trade. “One cut of fabric for two pendants or one of the finer necklaces,” he offered.

She scoffed and took back the pendant. “Who are you trying to fool? A necklace alone is worth at least four cuts of fabric.” It was really only worth three, but Norell had a plan. “I may even be able to get five up in the Northern Markets,” she proclaimed, making it clear that she did not need to do her business here.

The seller’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll give you three for the necklace,” he countered. “And one each for the pendants.”

And that was precisely the trade she had been hoping for. She wavered for a minute before accepting, allowing the seller to feel like he had gotten the better end of the deal, and then beckoned Heddi closer so they could select their fabrics. 

Ruffnut seemed to be rather aloof as they sorted through the fabrics, but as Ville had asked them to try and get something for her as well, Norell pulled her closer and said, “As for myself, I’m not sure what to pick. What do you think Ruffnut?”

The Berkian looked at her in shock. “Me?”

“Mm-hmm,” Norell nodded. “Which colors catch your eye?” She watched the girl closely, years of trading making it easy for her to tell what a person was interested in.

Ruffnut was a tough customer though, turning the question back on her. “You said these would be for your children?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“Boys or girls?”

“Two girls.”

After a careful look, Ruffnut pulled out a soft green and a light blue. “Then I’d pick these,” she declared, her eyes briefly flicking toward a deep purple. “They’re not too girly but still a little more feminine. I think they’d look quite nice.”

“I do believe you are right,” Norell agreed, selecting those two colors as well as the deep purple Ruffnut had been eyeing and a couple of other cuts for her daughters along with something to go with the purple for the Berkian girl. “And perhaps these as well,” she decided, passing them to the stall owner to be wrapped, as she removed the necklaces and pendants from the satchel. She was not about to pass them over until she received her bundles, but there was no harm in letting them hang from her fingers, reminding the seller just what he would be receiving.

Heddi finished her selections as well and left her to complete the transaction, walking over to Ryker and Viggo who were a short distance away, having not wanted to crowd the stall, leaving just Norell, Ville, and Ruffnut to wait.

The packages were almost ready when she heard Ruffnut mutter under her breath.

She leaned over and whispered, “Is something wrong?”

Ruffnut wrinkled up her nose and nodded subtly behind Norell. “Just an annoying excuse of a Viking making his way over.”

Upon catching sight of the approaching Viking, Ville tensed, ready to defend the girls, but Norell laid a hand on his arm, holding back.

“If he tries anything, let me take care of it,” she proposed with a wicked smile. “It’ll be more humiliating if he’s taken down by a woman.”

She couldn’t tell for sure, due to her brother’s mask, but she was fairly certain his grin mirrored hers as he bobbed her head.

It was but a moment later when the Berkian youth approached. “Hello, gorgeous,” he greeted her in a manner that was probably meant to be seductive but came across as nothing more than pathetic. “What are you doing hanging around with this riffraff,” he gestured to Ruffnut, the young woman stiffening in offense.

“I beg your pardon,” Norell replied haughtily, looking down her nose at the stubby Berkian.

“No need,” he said arrogantly. “Why don’t you join me for a drink up at the Great Hall? I’m sure all this shopping has left you parched, or maybe it’s my good looks that made your mouth go dry.”

Norell laughed in the idiot’s face, shooting a quick glance toward Ruffnut whose mouth was twitching slightly. “He’s joking, right?”

“Unfortunately, no,” was her response.

“It’s okay, babe,” the muttonhead assured her. “I realize that women get flustered in my presence.”

He grabbed her arm and that was where Norell drew the line. It may have been a while since she had needed to fend off unwelcome advances, but she knew exactly what she needed to do.

“Now, how about we-”

He got no further as she had hastily shoved the necklaces into Ville’s hands before flipping the obnoxiously persistent youth, grabbing her staff, and banging him on the head for good measure. Ryker was instantly at her side, fuming that she had taken care of the miscreant before he could extract his pound of flesh.

“I’m fine,” she told her husband. “He was no more bother than a gnat. Annoying, but easy to deal with.” She turned back to the stall to find the seller staring at her open-mouthed with her parcels in his hands. She relieved him of his burden and thanked him sweetly as Ville passed him the necklaces in payment.

Ryker, though, was not content to let sleeping dragons lie and had picked up the annoying little man by the front of his shirt, dangling him midair. 

“Woah, what are you doing,” the youth shouted, squirming in her husband’s grasp.

Ryker growled and was about to speak when they were interrupted by the arrival of a rather large red-headed man who demanded to know what was going on.

“Our wives desired to do some shopping, Chief,” Viggo answered, his voice dripping with contempt as he stepped in front of Heddi. “Surely you do not object to your people doing business with us?”

Norell noted that the Chief was not exactly thrilled, but he must have seen the packages in her hands and realized that there was not much he could do at this point. Not about them trading anyway. “I leave that up to them,” he remarked, “but I must request that you unhand my heir!”

“He was being fresh with my wife,” Ryker seethed. “I do not take kindly to those who importune her.” With that, he delivered a solid punch right to the Berkian heir’s stomach.

“Now, see here,” Stoick began, his outrage more than apparent.

“Do you have something to say, Stoick,” Ryker snapped, one eyebrow raised. “I’m all ears.”

The Berkian Chief scowled and Norell couldn’t help but think she could see no resemblance between him and Ville whatsoever. “I already warned you all not to cause trouble in my village,” he spat.

“Perhaps, you should have told your people as well,” Ryker contended, gesturing to the gathering crowd with his free hand. “It would’ve saved us from having to put them in their place.” He released his grip, allowing the young man Norell now believed to be Ville’s cousin to fall to the ground. The youth barely had a chance to move before one of her husband’s swords was at his throat. “You ever so much as look at my wife again, I can promise that you will face much worse than this,” he threatened.

Stoick was not about to let the mistreatment of his heir stand, though, shouting, “How dare you?!”

“That’s the pot calling the kettle black,” Ville laughed, breaking the tension, though, in some ways, it only seemed to make the Berkian Chief even madder if the red hue of his face was anything to go by.

“What are you-”

“I do believe the point my brother is trying to make is that a member of our family has just been preyed upon,” Viggo commented. “As the Chief of the Stormhearts, I could declare war,” he observed calmly, though the intensity of his gaze showed he was anything but. “How do you think you would fare against us,” he inquired, his voice dropping dangerously low.

Ville must have signaled the dragons somehow, as they began growling, Sharpshot from Vilhehn’s shoulder and Toothless from the roof across the street where he had been watching the whole thing. Karl and Loni uncloaked on nearby roofs as well, snarling and letting one of two drops of acid drip from their mouths.

Stoick’s eyes narrowed as he glared at Viggo, and Norell briefly wondered if the Chief would be smart enough to take the hint. He finally spoke, though it was not without a trace of anger. “Is that a threat?”

“That’s a warning not to mess with our family,” Viggo clarified harshly. “We did not have to accept your request for aid,” he reasoned. “We could still return your gold and leave. Your choice.”

The Berkian Chief’s hand clenched as he tersely said, “I will leave you to your business.” He grabbed his protesting nephew’s arm and dragged him away, reprimanding him not so quietly.

As the crowd dispersed, an attractive blonde who looked to be around Vilhehn’s age pushed her way through, coming right for them. Norell fingered her staff, just in case, but the young woman went straight to Ville.

“I couldn’t get through the crowd,” she explained. “Is everything okay?”

“We’re fine, but I do believe we’ll be on our way now,” her brother replied. “Thanks for checking, though.”

“No problem,” the young woman responded, pressing a bundle into his hands and saying something else, but she was too quiet for Norell to catch what it was.

As they were heading back to the ship with their dragon escort hoping across the roofs, Norell nodded toward the bundle and asked, “What’s that?”

“Some bread,” Ville stated casually. “Astrid said her mom baked too much and she thought we might enjoy having some fresh.”

Out of the corner of her eye, Norell noted that Ruffnut had stiffened, seemingly threatened by her competition, though at the same time, she didn’t think the girl had realized her feelings just yet…or maybe this incident had just made things clear to her. Ville, on the other hand, was oblivious to the girls’ interest in him, but it was clear to his sister that he favored Ruffnut and was more comfortable around her. Then again, that furrow on his brow made Norell wonder if maybe he had an inclination as to what Astrid was up to after all.

Chapter Text

Ruff hadn’t stuck around after the incident, just walking with Vilhehn and his family to the switchbacks leading to the docks before taking her leave as she had a few things she needed to do for Gothi. Her friends pressed her to join them for dinner again and she promised to try her best to make it. The invitation had been extended to Gothi as well and Ruff was determined to bring the elderly healer with her this time.

She still couldn’t believe the old bat had backed out yesterday. She hadn’t lied when she told Vilhehn why Gothi wasn’t joining them as that was what the healer had told her…at least before Ruffnut pulled the truth out of her. The old lady had been glad she found some people she connected with and didn’t want to get in the way of her forming friendships. But Ruff hadn’t missed Vilhehn’s disappointment when the elderly healer didn’t join them and she wanted to make it up to him.

Of course, that thought brought her own motives, and Gothi’s, into question. Had the healer been encouraging more than just friendship between herself and the Dragon Master? She wasn’t even sure if she felt that way about him, but she could admit, if only to herself, that she had been slightly jealous when Astrid was speaking with him, buttering him up with her mom’s bread. At least that was one advantage Ruffnut had over Astrid. She could actually cook. But that still left the question of whether she wanted to pursue a relationship with Vilhehn or not.

She definitely liked him, but love? It was too soon to know for sure, but she wasn’t about to brush it off as an impossibility. Of course, he and his family were only here for a brief time, so she had better not waste a minute of it.

Thankfully, she managed to finish her responsibilities early and bundled Gothi out the door, much to the old bat’s protests. After fending off the healer’s staff the entire way down to the village, Gothi finally gave in to the inevitable and the rest of their walk was almost peaceful.

It was strange, though, as when they approached the docks, Ruff noticed the sails on the Stormhearts’ ship were raised, not all of them, but a fair amount. It wasn’t particularly windy, so it would make no difference, but it had never been that way before. As they got closer, though, she began to see why, or at least she thought she did. There was some sort of…challenge occurring on the deck between Vilhehn, Dagur, Ryker, and Viggo, the sails blocking the view of it from the Berkians.

As they stepped off the gangplank, Ruff noted that some of the crew had gathered to watch, and Norell and Heddi were there as well. Norell waved them over and they joined the sisters by marriage, Ruffnut gesturing toward the dueling pairs and inquiring, “What is all this?”

“Tension was running high from earlier,” Heddi explained, only glancing at Ruff briefly before her gaze returned to the fighters, “and the boys needed to blow off some steam. It’s a miracle we managed to convince them to wait until the docks cleared.”

Ruffnut tilted her head, shooting her new friend a questioning look. “Why would that be necessary?”

Heddi was the one who answered, though, saying, “No need for the Berkians to see how they fight. Ruins the element of surprise.”

“So, they do this often then,” Ruffnut queried, turning her attention to the double duel as well. It was quite interesting watching Vilhehn and Ryker fight, as they were both wielding dual swords, something that was not seen on Berk’s shores.

“Not as much as they would like,” Heddi replied distractedly. “Viggo is kept fairly busy with his duties as Chief, but they try to do this at least once a month.”

“My brother normally joins them in Dagur’s place to even their numbers,” Norell added. “Speaking of, that boy is not going to last much longer.”

Heddi nodded her agreement. “He did make a tactical error.”

“What was that,” Ruffnut asked curiously, not seeing any flaws in the Berserker’s technique.

“He insisted on Ville as his partner,” Heddi revealed, a smile playing around the corner of her mouth.

Ruff could see that Vilhehn was a good fighter, but all four of the men were. “And that was a mistake because…?”

“Ville is stronger than him and also quite smart,” Heddi confided. “Dagur might have stood a chance against Viggo if he could overpower him, but against Ville? It’s inevitable that he’ll be the first out.”

As Ruffnut watched the duels progress, she could see that what Heddi said was proving true, but that led her to wonder… “Who’s the strongest of the four of them?”

“Ryker, if you’re talking about brute strength,” Norell supplied, “but Ville would probably be second. Viggo is not as strong as his brothers, but like Ville, he fights with his intellect, making him a formidable opponent.”

They watched as Vilhehn slowly backed Dagur against the rail before dealing him a devastating blow and disarming him.

“And Dagur’s out,” Norell declared as Vilhehn tossed one sword in the air victoriously before catching it expertly and running toward his brothers, seemingly ready to jump into their duel.

Ruffnut was thoroughly confused. She had assumed the winners of each duel would then confront each other if they so desired, but it seemed that was not the case. “What happens now?”

“Generally, Ville and Viggo will team up to take out Ryker,” Heddi shared, nodding toward the men where that exact scenario was taking place, “and then the two of them will go at it until one is victorious.

“Two against one, though,” Ruffnut mused aloud, thinking that didn’t seem fair, though she supposed in a true battle, you might not have a choice.

Norell waved off her concern. “Ryker loves it,” she remarked. “Gives him a challenge, he says.”

At that moment Dagur joined them, panting heavily. “I almost had him!”

Norell snorted as she shoved the Berserker out of her way as he was blocking her view. “You keep telling yourself that.”

“I should’ve picked Viggo,” Dagur grumbled. “At least I could have gotten back at him for that trick he pulled on me this morning.”

That got all of their attention. Ruffnut had been surprised that he wasn’t with the others for their trip to the market since everyone else was there, but she figured he must have had something else to do. And the fact that the other women didn’t seem to know what had occurred piqued her interest even further.

“How did he get you to leave anyway,” Heddi queried, voicing the question that was on all of their minds.

Dagur huffed and plopped down on the deck. “Asked me to take a note back to my dad since Sharpshot was with Ville. Little did I know the note was a request for my father to keep me busy for a few hours so I couldn’t join you for your trip to the village.” He shot them a look and declared, “I’m still mad about missing all the action.”

“It was probably for the best, though,” Norell observed, returning her attention to the brothers who were still going at it. “Ryker’s temper was hot enough for all of us. It’s amazing he didn’t pound Snotlout into the ground.”

Heddi nodded in agreement and they fell silent as they watched Vilhehn and Viggo outmaneuver Ryker in a dance of blades. It wasn’t long before the eldest Grimborn joined them, his wife welcoming him back and asking if he felt better now that he had worked out some of his frustrations.

“Would’ve been better if I had one of those Berkian idiots at the end of my sword,” he said irritably. “I swear, if I so much as see that little twerp-”

Norell laid a hand on his arm and, quirking one eyebrow, commented, “Perhaps you should avoid the village for the rest of our stay here.”

“I think that’s the general plan as it is,” Heddi acknowledged. Ruff did not miss the knowing look the sisters exchanged before Heddi continued. “It would be safer…for the Berkians, anyway.”

Ryker growled but did not say anything else, seeming to agree that he wanted nothing to do with Berk, though Ruff did not think that applied to her. At least she hoped it didn’t.

She let her gaze drift back over to where the final two were dodging each other’s blades, their movements mesmerizing, and joined the rest in cheering when Vilhehn managed to disarm his brother, becoming the winner of the unconventional match. 

Ruffnut had never seen anything like it and could honestly say he was probably the best warrior she had ever seen. When he came their way, she was quick to praise him, saying, “That was pretty impressive.”

“Thanks,” he responded, his eyes crinkling up around the corners. She was pretty sure he was smiling, but he was wearing that dumb hood/mask thingy. “Just lots and lots of practice,” he stated, offering an arm to her and the other to Gothi, escorting them into the hold. “I’m glad you could both make it.”

They made it to the common room and she let go of his arm, but before she could say anything, he was tackled by his friend and put in a loose chokehold.

“Dagur! Let me go,” he yelled, trying to pry his friend’s arm off.

“Nope,” the Berserker refused, pulling Vilhehn’s hood off and giving him a noogie. “Not until you acknowledge me as the superior warrior.”

Vilhehn stopped his attempts for a moment, and retorted, “Why? You haven’t been able to beat me for over two years now.”

Having gone limp, Dagur was not expecting his friend to twist and flip him on the ground before laughing uproariously. Strangely enough, Dagur did not take offense and joined Vilhehn with his slightly crazed cackle.

It was interesting seeing Dagur like this, so relaxed and at ease. The only one he had ever been so comfortable with was- No, that couldn’t be, Ruff shook her head, cutting herself off mid-thought. After all, Hiccup was dead…but there was something in the way Vilheln moved, the way he flailed his arms when he was talking animatedly, and that auburn hair…

He had helped his friend up off the floor and when he met her puzzled gaze, those piercing green eyes seemed even more familiar to her.

A look of concern crossed his face as he stepped to her side and asked, “Is everything okay?”

“I just-” She broke off as the lantern light hit him just right and she caught sight of a scar on his chin, one she recognized from all those years ago. “That scar,” she said pointing to his chin. “Have you always had it?”

“Oh this,” he responded lightly. “An accident with a dragon.”

Ruff’s eyes narrowed as Vilhehn avoided her question, further cementing her belief that she just might be right. Hiccup was dead, or at least he was supposed to be. But there were too many coincidences and it would explain how he knew Gobber and Gothi… “Hiccup?”

Everyone froze, their reactions encouraging her to press forward.

“It’s you. Isn’t it?”

Vilhehn sighed and reluctantly nodded.

“But how did you-”

“It’s a long story,” he interrupted her question, “and I’ll tell you all of it, but you have to promise to keep it a secret.”

“Of course,” she agreed. “You can trust me.”

-o0o-

Ville could not believe that Ruffnut had figured it out. He didn’t exactly mind, though, and once he truly thought about it, it wasn’t altogether unexpected. She had always been observant and since she had seen his face on more than one occasion, it truly had only been a matter of time.

Thankfully, she took the whole thing rather well, asking him questions as he told her about what had happened and being happy for him at how well his life had turned out. By the time he finished telling her about the past twelve years, it was time for her and Gothi to leave. 

Toothless was happy to help him give them a lift and after they landed on Gothi’s porch, Ville passed Ruffnut a small basket that he had collected on their way out.

Ruff looked at him curiously as Gothi headed inside. “What’s this?” Before he could respond, she was already opening the lid and pulling the fabric out. “Ville?”

His breath caught at hearing her use the nickname his family used for him, but he pushed those thoughts aside for now, focusing on the matter at hand. “Well, your trunk had seemed so light, and with how you spoke about Berk’s low opinion of healers…” He shrugged and rubbed the back of his neck. “It was the right thing to do,” he justified. “Norell said the purple had caught your eye and-”

“But I didn’t even-”

Ville smiled beneath his hooded mask. “She was a trader. She can tell when someone is interested in something,” he shared. “There’s also a few coins tucked in there for Gothi, in case there’s anything she needs.”

Ruffnut simply shook her head, staring at him in awe and leaving him feeling somewhat flustered. “I should have realized it was you sooner,” she declared. “You’re too nice.”

“Well, everyone thinks I’m dead, so you had no reason to expect it,” he reasoned. “That’s kind of what I was counting on, generally speaking,” he admitted, waving vaguely toward the village far below them.

“Still, thank you,” Ruffnut said sweetly, “for everything.” She leaned forward and pecked his cheek before slipping inside, leaving Ville standing there in shock.

Toothless nudged him, shaking him from his stupor, and slyly remarked, “Looks like you’ve got a sweetheart.”

Ville glared at his best friend, glad he was wearing his hooded mask to hide his blush. He mounted and, as they took off to head back to the ship, he said, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Chapter Text

Astrid needed to move things forward. She was making progress in getting to know the Dragon Master, but it wasn’t fast enough, especially as Ruffnut looked very comfortable around him the day before and even seemed to know his family, though how the other girl had accomplished that, she was not sure.

Running out of ideas, she decided to seek out Fishlegs. While they were by no means close, they got along with each other tolerably well and would occasionally share a meal together or ask the other for advice. Plus, he was the only one with enough brains to truly help her.

She found him in the Records Room with his nose in a book, as she had expected, and after an incredibly brief greeting jumped right in. “How would you suggest I go about getting into the Dragon Master’s good graces?”

Fishlegs looked at her curiously, surprised by her choice of topic. “What for?”

“Peaceful relations are important between tribes,” she stated casually. “I just want to foster that.”

“Sure,” Fishlegs replied skeptically, clearly not believing that to be her true motive. “The dragons are obviously important to him,” he noted, “so you could ask him about them.”

Astrid was less than thrilled with that bit of advice. She supposed she would have to ask eventually, but she would prefer to leave that until things had actually been settled between them. After all, there was no sense in learning about the beasts if she wasn’t going to be around them. “Any other ideas?”

Fishlegs shrugged, only half paying attention to her as he ran a finger down his page. “There’s always gifts and flattery, but that’s not really your style.”

Her eyes narrowed at the perceived slight. “What are you trying to imply?”

“That you’re generally very direct,” Fishlegs said, closing his book before leaning up against the shelves and crossing his arms, looking at her pointedly, “unlike how you’re acting right now. So, how about you tell me what this is really about.”

“Fine,” Astrid spat. “If my parents are going to force me to marry, I could do worse than the Dragon Master. He definitely ranks higher than my prospects here,” she explained, “not to mention the fact that if I could make it work, I would bring Berk a valuable ally.”

Fishlegs crinkled his nose and observed, “With the way things have been going, I doubt the Stormhearts will be willing to agree to an alliance.”

“What do you mean,” she asked, brow furrowed.

“I saw the debacle yesterday,” he stated drily. “The family appears to be very tight-knit and their opinion of us seems to mirror Dagur’s.”

“But maybe if enough of us were nice, we could change their mind,” Astrid reasoned, not ready to give up hope just yet.

“I wouldn’t hold my breath,” Fishlegs responded, reopening his book. “If you’re firm on this course, then the only advice I can offer is to be yourself. I have a feeling that the Stormhearts do not care for people who act under false pretenses,” he shared, resuming his reading and effectively ending their conversation.

Astrid flounced off toward the docks, regretting asking Fishlegs for his aid as he had been anything but helpful. If Ruffnut could make friends with these people, then surely she could do the same. It couldn’t be that hard, right?

Nearing the pier the Stormhearts had been using, Astrid found herself slowing as the dragons that were constantly hanging around the ship looked at her askance. She recognized a Zippleback and a Nightmare, and she thought there might have been a Changewing, but it camouflaged before she could say for sure. The other dragons, though, were species she had never seen before, leaving her rather wary.

She hesitantly walked up the gangplank, but before she could so much as step on the deck, a gruff voice to her right said, “Can I help you?”

Turning toward the speaker, Astrid saw the man Stoick had mistaken for the Dragon Master. He was also the same one who nearly pummeled Snotlout the day before and he looked just as fearsome right now, not that she was intimidated or anything.

“I was just coming to say hi,” she replied, trying to sound friendly. “I realize that the Berkians haven’t exactly given you the warmest of welcomes and I wanted to do my part to counteract that.”

“Well, you’ve said your hello and done your part,” he remarked coldly, waving the brush in his hand as he told her to scram.

“Ryker!” The Dragon Master stepped out of the hold, his dragon on his heel, gently reprimanding his older brother, if Astrid remembered their relationship accurately. “Would it kill you to be a little more polite?”

Ryker just grunted as the Master stepped forward, offering her an apology.

“Sorry about that,” he said, gesturing vaguely toward his brother. “Being here has kind of put everyone on edge,” he explained. “He’s not so bad when his wife’s around, but she’s gone for the day. Anyway, was there something you needed? Other than just wanting to say hi, I mean?”

“Oh, well…” She floundered for a few seconds before begrudgingly deciding to give Fishlegs’ suggestion a try. Letting her gaze sweep over the ship, she said, “You know, I’ve never seen some of these dragons before. What species are they?”

The Dragon Master eyed her suspiciously. “Do you have a reason for wanting to know?”

Astrid groaned to herself as this excursion was not going as planned. “Just curious,” she replied, doing her best to act casual. “We don’t see too many species around these parts.”

She must have said the right thing as the Dragon Master seemed to relax a bit. “Well, I guess I can give you a few facts,” he offered. “Where would you like to start?”

“How about your dragon,” she proposed. “I’ve heard it’s a Night Fury.”

“That he is,” the Master declared, putting special emphasis on the dragon’s gender. “A member of the Strike Class and one of the most fearsome dragons around. His speed is unparalleled and he’s deadly accurate,” he disclosed emphatically before muttering, “Of course, most of the time, he’s just an overgrown scaly cat with attitude.”

The dragon seemed to take offense at that, swinging his tail which the Dragon Master expertly jumped over…the first time. When the tail swung back around, though, it caught him from behind and knocked his legs out from under him. The dragon made a noise that almost sounded like laughter and Astrid couldn’t help but grin, particularly when the Dragon Master said what sounded like, “Useless reptile,” under his breath.

He got to his feet, or perhaps she should say foot, and dusted himself off, gesturing to a large almost beetle-like dragon who was having its scales brushed by Ryker. “This big guy is a Rumblehorn, a member of the Tracking Class.”

“Tracking Class,” she repeated, a question in her tone as she had never heard of such a class before.

“Excellent sense of smell,” he revealed, stepping over and rubbing the large dragon’s horn so that it was rumbling in what Astrid could only call contentment. “There’s no getting away from this fellow. Rumblehorns are incredibly stealthy and agile,” he continued, “something you might not expect due to their size.”

She wasn’t sure if the Dragon Master was trying to intimidate her or not with his descriptions of his dragons’ abilities, but if that was his goal, he wasn’t doing half bad.

“And last but not least of the rarer species here right now is the Triple Stryke,” he announced, walking up to a yellow and black dragon with three tails that twined around each other, “also from the Strike Class. Each stinger contains a unique venom. One causes numbness, while another causes the victim to have mild hallucinations.”

Astrid found it strange that he stopped there, warily asking, “And the third?”

“Trust me, you’d rather not know,” he proclaimed, shooting her a quick glance before returning his attention to the dragon as he scratched its jaw.

“But I do,” she insisted, pressing on despite her desire for this conversation to be over.

“The third creates a sensation that makes it feel as if your blood is on fire,” he divulged, watching her carefully.

Astrid shuddered at the thought, saying, “You’re right. I could have happily lived without knowing that.”

“I tried to warn you,” he shrugged before gesturing to the dragons who were perched on the masts. “I assume you’re more familiar with these guys?”

She looked up to see the same dragons from before glaring at her, though this time the Changewing was uncloaked, visible in all its glory. “Yes, though I’ve only seen a Changewing once,” she admitted.

“They can be rather hard to spot,” he acknowledged, launching into another spiel, this time about the Mystery Class dragon.

Astrid couldn’t help but think he was more like Fishlegs than she had realized with his abundance of knowledge. She did her best to smile and nod and appear interested in what he had to say, though she absentmindedly wondered how many rare dragons were traveling with him that were not currently visible, like that Skrill and the other dragon that looked like a butterfly. At least he was enjoyable to watch as he continued to wax eloquent, his enthusiasm palpable as he spoke about the creatures who were so important to him. It was interesting seeing him a little more relaxed, but she couldn’t help but wish she could see him without that stupid mask.

Chapter Text

Ville finished his speech, noting that while Astrid gave every pretense of listening to what he was saying, she wasn’t truly paying attention. Not wanting to waste time explaining dragons to someone who was not interested, he said, “If that’s all, then I’ve got some stuff I need to take care of.”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” she stammered slightly. Smiling at him sweetly, she said, “It was nice talking with you. Thanks for the information.”

At least she could take a hint, which was more than Ville could say about most Berkians. She was barely off the ship when Toothless rubbed against him.

“Now you have two sweethearts,” he crooned playfully, “though I will say, this one isn’t very comfortable around us.”

“Oh, shut up you,” Ville responded, lightly shoving his friend away as he went to retrieve a stiff brush to clean the dirt from Toothless’ scales. “And it’s only understandable,” he reasoned, “considering how she was raised. It doesn’t really matter though as I’m not interested in her.”

“Which means you are interested in Ruffnut,” the Night Fury pressed.

Ville paused his ministrations as he thought about his friend’s question. “I’m not sure,” he finally confessed.

“She likes us,” Toothless stated emphatically, stretching out his wings so Vilhehn could get the hard to reach spots.

He couldn’t help but smile at his friend’s words. “That she does,” he agreed, thinking about how quickly Ruffnut had become comfortable around the dragons.

His train of thought was interrupted, though, by his brother stomping over. “Are you sure that was a wise idea,” Ryker demanded, gesturing toward the gangplank and obviously referring to his conversation with Astrid.

Ville shrugged. “There was no harm done,” he justified. “It’s not like she couldn’t have gotten that information elsewhere.” Noting his brother’s skeptical glare, he amended his statement. “Well, within reason, anyway.”

“You did tell her all the best facts,” Dagur pointed out, a crazed grin on his face as he stepped out of the hold and went directly to Sleuther. Garff was only a few steps behind the Berserker, ruffling his wings as he complained about having to wait below deck as Ville had requested.

As he soothed the cranky Death Song, explaining it was for his own safety, Ville shot his friend a questioning glance. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“Maybe,” Dagur smirked, practically confirming his actions. “At least now she has an even better reason not to cross us as she knows what kind of damage these guys can cause,” he proclaimed, scratching Sleuther’s chin as a drop of acid fell at his feet. “And girls,” he corrected himself reluctantly, his exasperation clear as Loni got in his face. “Sheesh, sensitive much?”

Ville winced as the Changewing used her long, leafy antennae to pick Dagur up by one foot and dangle him upside down. “I really wouldn’t taunt a Changewing, Dagur,” he commented, watching his friend struggle for a moment before politely asking Loni to put him down. The dragon did as Ville requested, letting the Berserker fall to the deck before disappearing, presumably to head back to her favorite perch on the mast.

Shaking his head, Vilhehn returned to the topic at hand, admitting, “I may have been selective in what I said to test her mettle.”

“How’d she do,” Ryker inquired gruffly.

“She was wary of us,” Toothless revealed.

Kuori added, “She smelled of fear.”

Ville interpreted for the dragons and a satisfied smile spread across his brother’s face.

“Good,” Ryker declared with a firm nod.

-o0o-

Vilhehn had just finished getting Toothless saddled up and was about to head into the hold to grab a few things when he saw Ruffnut approaching. He called out a greeting and she was quick to respond.

“Hey,” she said, boarding the ship and glancing around with a confused look on her face. “Where is everyone?”

“Norell and Heddi went back to Berserker Island to check on their kids and Viggo went with them,” Ville shared. “He sent his Terror back to let us know they’d be spending the night before returning tomorrow. And the crew left to cook their dinner. We’re just waiting for them to get back and for the sun to set before heading to the other side of the island,” he explained. “Since it’s just us, we were going to keep it simple. Roast some fish and maybe a few vegetables. You’re welcome to come with.”

“I’d like that,” she smiled. “I can even cook if you want.”

“You don’t have to. We can all take care of ourselves,” he assured her.

“At least let me do the vegetables,” she maintained. “Do you already have everything you need or…?”

“I’ll take you to the galley and you can make your selection,” he offered. That had been where he was heading anyway, so it all worked out.

Ruffnut grabbed some potatoes and a few carrots to put in the satchel he had handed her before looking at the assortment of spices. “I haven’t seen half of these before,” she remarked, picking up a container and removing the lid to take a sniff.

“Some are native to our area, while we trade for others,” Ville disclosed. Their tribe was prosperous enough that they did have a wider selection than most tribes, but he had become so used to the way food was seasoned on Tulva that he no longer thought anything of it.

“I’ll just stick with what I know,” Ruffnut decided, setting a few containers in the satchel with the vegetables, “but that does explain why some of your foods have tasted different.”

As they made their way back to the deck, Ville saw that the crew was just returning and as the sun was about to sink below the horizon, it was perfect timing. Ryker and Dagur were already mounted on their dragons with Garff bouncing around them, eager to be on his way. Ville was quick to get on Toothless, telling Ruffnut to hop on behind him.

“And we’ve got one more joining us,” he told her. “Come on, Raske.”

With that, the lead Stinger raced forward, jumping onto Toothless’ back and settling himself just in front of Ville.

“Wait, this is Raske,” Ruffnut inquired incredulously.

Amused that it took her this long to put the pieces together, Ville grinned beneath his hooded mask and replied, “Who did you think it was?”

Ruffnut just shook her head and laughed as they took off. “I should’ve known,” she declared. Glancing at the others in their party, she asked, “So, are these dragons really all under your control, or…?”

Ville chuckled and noted absentmindedly that Sharpshot had joined them as well. “Delving into more secrets, I see,” he remarked lightly before answering her question. “Most dragons will bond with one human in particular, so Kuori is my brother’s special friend, while Sleuther is Dagur’s.”

“Obviously, Toothless is yours,” she added.

“Obviously,” he repeated, grinning widely.

“What about Raske? And this guy,” she queried, gesturing to Garff. “Can a human have more than one special dragon friend?”

“Well…” Ville paused, trying to think of the best way to explain it.

Of course, Dagur was not one to let the silence linger and chimed it. “Most humans, no. But there’s a reason Ville is known as the Dragon Master.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Ryker added wryly. “They follow him around our village all the time.”

“Is that true,” Ruff inquired curiously.

“Well, they just like my company,” Ville hedged, not thinking it was as big a deal as the others made it out to be.

“Then how do you explain the fact that Garff practically lives in our house,” Ryker demanded.

“He was still young when he came to us,” Ville justified. “He needed a family.”

“Sure he did.” Ryker rolled his eyes before looking at Ruffnut. “Most dragons will happily listen to Ville, though some have taken a particular liking to him, like these two,” he shared, gesturing to Raske and Garff. “But if a dragon is bonded to a specific person, then their loyalty will be to them first and foremost.”

And Ville had experienced that firsthand more than once, though dangling from a dragon’s mouth was not one of his favorite pastimes. “Thankfully, I’m too tall for Kuori to just cart me off anymore,” he said drily.

“Who said he had to walk,” Ryker retorted, smiling slightly as they descended toward the beach they had sparred on a couple of days ago. “He could fly.”

“I can take a hint now,” Ville claimed dramatically. “No need to resort to drastic measures if you want some privacy.” Glancing behind him, he saw that Ruffnut was doing her best not to laugh at their exchange, but she was not very successful. In an attempt to get them back on topic, he said, “I guess my bond with Garff, Raske, and Sharpshot is different. Not as strong as me and Toothless, of course, but definitely stronger compared to how the rest of our flock treats me. It’s…special.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” Ruff commented thoughtfully as they dismounted. “Is that why Raske came along?”

“Mmm, partially,” he responded. “It was also so I could do this.” He reached up and pulled off his hooded mask before running his hand through his hair and smiling at her. “It’s dark and we’re pretty far from the village, but I’d rather not take any chances. Raske is going to patrol the area for us, make sure no one tries to approach us unawares.”

She nodded in understanding before looking at the Speed Stinger, her eyes flicking briefly back at him. “May I?”

“Go ahead,” he said, waving her forward. He had to admit, he was curious as to what she was going to do.

Kneeling down, she held out her hand, staying still and allowing the small dragon to sniff her before he shoved his muzzle in her hand. She smiled and began stroking him, saying, “Thank you, Raske, for looking out for us.”

The Speed Stinger let out a sonorous purr and Toothless glanced at Ville knowingly.

“She gets us,” the Night Fury declared before scampering toward the ocean.

Ruffnut rose a minute later, glancing around as she said, “So, where’s your equipment I can help with the fishing first and then-” She cut herself off and laughed as Garff dumped a mountain of fish at her feet. “Well, I suppose that’s one way to collect fish.”

“It does make things easier,” Ville observed with a smile on his face.

Ryker soon had a fire going and they all worked on gutting the fish, Sharpshot nosing around and slurping up the entrails. Once the fish were on, Ruffnut started on the vegetables and it wasn’t long before the food was cooked.

As they were eating, Ruffnut glanced over at him and said, “This is nice.”

“It is,” he agreed, smiling at her softly. “I’m glad you could join us, and not just because the vegetables are amazing, though I must say, you’re an excellent cook.”

“Thanks,” she replied, a light blush dusting her cheeks.

Seeing her like that, Ville’s stomach flipped and he started to realize that his feelings for Ruffnut might be more than he had thought they were. 

Chapter Text

Ville was helping Gobber in the forge again when he caught sight of Stoick making his way over. He really didn’t want to deal with the man right now and was debating slipping out the back, but ran out of time.

The Chief approached the hatch and, looking directly at him, said, “I was told I could find you here.”

He quirked an eyebrow at the lack of a proper greeting and drily replied, “I’m glad your source was correct,” before returning to his work on an axe that needed to be sharpened.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Stoick watch him as he worked, an air of distrust hanging about him. “I don’t see why you should be using our forge to make your repairs, though,” he eventually remarked.

“He’s here because I gave him permission,” Gobber spoke up as he hobbled over, shoving his hook in Stoick’s face. “And he’s helping me work through my backlog, so ye should be thankful.”

“Gobber, are you sure he’s trustworthy?”

Though the Chief had lowered his voice, he was in no way quiet, prompting Ville to say, “You do realize I can hear you, right? I'm standing right here.”

Stoick just ignored him though, all his attention focused on Gobber as he reassured the Chief that Ville was an excellent blacksmith and a hard worker who would not cause any damage to their weapons. He even provided Stoick with one of the swords Vilhehn had repaired, proving that his work was high-quality. Of course, the artistry was sorely lacking, but Ville wasn’t about to go out of his way to do any fancy work for these people who had mistreated him when he was younger. They should be grateful he was even doing this much, though it was for Gobber more than anything else.

The Chief reluctantly agreed that Vilhehn could remain, but for some reason he refused to leave, doing nothing more than staring at Ville which was beginning to make him sweat. Was his ‘dad’ suspicious? He didn’t see how he could be, but the thought would not leave his mind.

Deciding to take a more offensive route, he paused his work and boldly said, “I’m assuming you had a reason for seeking me out?”

Stoick’s eyes narrowed. “I haven’t seen your party at the Great Hall,” he observed, his tone betraying his offense, though Ville could honestly care less. “Most visitors to our island deign to eat with us.”

“Most places we visit we are treated with kindness and respect,” he shot back.

The Berkian Chief stiffened. “I will not have you saying we are not hospitable.”

“I don’t believe I did,” he contended, challenging his ‘father’ to say otherwise, absentmindedly noting that he could hear Toothless growling from here.

Stoick glared at him, taking a deep breath to try and reign in his temper. “I would like you to join me for supper tonight,” he stated tersely. “At the Great Hall. Your entire party is welcome to come as well.”

Ville nodded imperiously. “I will discuss it with them.”

With his insincere invitation issued, Stoick turned on his heel and left, leaving the two blacksmiths alone with a snarling Night Fury on the roof.

“Are ye gonna go,” Gobber inquired, breaking the silence that hung heavy between them.

“Not sure,” Ville admitted, glancing briefly at the blacksmith. “Will you be there?”

“I can if ye like,” he offered. “As a member of the council, I have a seat at the high table. I just don’t use it often as Stoick gets on me nerves.”

Ville cracked a smile at that. “Well, it’s up to you. I can’t guarantee if we’ll go or not, so…” He trailed off and shrugged.

“I’ll be there, just in case,” Gobber told him. “Can’t leave ye to deal with those idiots on yer own.”

“I would never be on my own,” he claimed. “There’s no way my family would go for that.”

“Aye,” Gobber nodded and smiled at him fondly, “and that’s the way it should be.”

They got back to work, though Ville did not stay for too much longer, wanting to see if the rest of his family had returned from their trip to Berserker Island and discuss the Chief’s invitation with them.

As Toothless flew them down to the ship, he spotted Skarpur on the mast, the sun reflecting off her metallic scales, a clear sign that their missing members were back. Ville went straight to the common room, and checked in with his brother, wanting to see how things had gone.

“The children are well,” Viggo shared, “though Elisabet was determined to return with us, and convincing her otherwise delayed our departure.”

Ville couldn’t help but grin. “Hopefully we won’t be here much longer,” he acknowledged, just now realizing that he had never been away from his nieces and nephew this long before and how much he missed them. “By the way, the Chief invited us to the Great Hall tonight. Something about wanting to make sure we knew Berk was hospitable,” he muttered, rolling his eyes, as Ryker growled behind him, having apparently caught what he said.

“I will leave the decision in your hands,” Viggo said, looking at him earnestly. “What would you like to do?”

He shrugged. “I couldn’t care less, but I suppose it would be rude to refuse.”

“Refusing is still an option,” Ryker pointed out gruffly, clearly of the opinion that the less they had to do with Berk the better. Ville couldn’t blame him, but he was not about to stoop to the Berkians’ level of incivility.

“Perhaps it would be best if we stayed behind,” Norell said as she joined them, wrapping her hand around her husband’s arm. “I don’t think certain Berkians would last long in the face of Ryker’s ire.”

“That might be for the best,” Viggo agreed. “Particularly if this is a ploy to remove us from our ship.”

“They wouldn’t dare,” Ryker growled, looking ready to attack the first Berkian he laid eyes on.

“I wouldn’t give them that much credit,” Ville chimed in, attempting to calm his eldest brother down, “but it wouldn’t hurt to be prepared.”

“What about keeping your identity hidden,” Viggo queried. “Ruffnut already put the pieces together, so there is every possibility someone else could do the same.”

“While it is a possibility, it’s not very likely,” Ville reasoned. “I can keep my hood on to hide my hair and pull down the mask just enough to eat. My scar will remain hidden, and I can keep my head bowed as much as possible, maybe even sit with my back to the fire so that my features are not as easily discernible. Plus, with the dragons joining us, I doubt that most of the focus will be on me.”

Viggo raised one eyebrow and said, “The dragons?”

“Well, Stoick did say the invitation included my entire party,” Ville justified, “so I plan on taking him at his word.”

A grim sort of smile appeared on Ryker’s face. “This almost makes me wish I was going to be there so I could see his reaction.”

“I’ll make sure to tell you all about it in great detail when we return,” Ville promised his oldest brother, sure that Stoick’s response would be just as explosive as they expected.

Chapter Text

As expected, when Ville approached the Great Hall with Viggo, Heddi, and Dagur in tow, along with their dragons, things did not go well.

“What are these beasts doing here,” Stoick demanded.

“You said my whole party was welcome,” Ville reminded the Berkian Chief, "or did I mishear?"

“I meant-”

“The dragons are part of my party,” he said, speaking over Stoick. “You accept us all or you don’t.” He shrugged nonchalantly, his gaze firm as he refused to back down. “I assure you, we have no problem returning to our ship where there is a more congenial atmosphere than what we will find here,” Ville remarked, nodding toward the Great Hall. He almost hoped his ‘father’ would turn them away, but questioning the Berkians’ hospitality only seemed to firm Stoick’s resolve further.

“They may enter,” the Chief begrudgingly allowed, “providing they do not attack my people or damage the Hall.”

“They will not attack unless they are threatened,” Ville responded, his warning clear. “As for the Hall, they are used to such a building as they are welcomed in our Hall back home. They will not disrespect it,” he promised, which seemed to mollify Stoick, if only marginally.

The overlarge Chief led the way inside and took them to the high table where Gobber and Spitelout were already sitting, Snotlout and Tuffnut seated at the far end. “Please, join us and eat your fill,” Stoick invited, a hint of disdain in his voice revealing that despite his claims, he didn’t really want them there.

At least they could agree on that, Ville thought, as none of them were too happy about the situation themselves. As planned, he took a seat with his back toward the fire, Toothless plopping down behind him and staring at the others over one shoulder, while Sharpshot was perched on his other. The remaining dragons took similar stances behind their bondeds and Ville could tell it was making the Berkians uneasy, but truly, did they really think the Dragon Master would go anywhere without his dragons?

The food itself was adequate, if rather bland, just like the natives at the table who had not spoken one word since their arrival. Ville pulled his masked hood down slightly and kept his gaze on his plate as he began to eat, enough so that his face would not be fully visible. He wound up feeding every other bite to Sharpshot, partially because the Terror was begging him unmercifully and partly because it seemed to unnerve the Berkians even more. It was no loss to him as between the tension in the air and the unpalatable food, his appetite seemed to have fled.

Finally, the silence was broken when Stoick said, “Will the dragons not leave your side?”

Ville pulled his mask back up before looking at the Chief with one eyebrow raised. “Would you prefer them to prowl around among your people?” He couldn’t help but smirk to himself at his ‘father’s’ grimace. “As I thought,” he commented drily. “For both our sakes, it is best if they remain where they are.”

“It’s mad! That’s what it is,” Spitelout proclaimed angrily.

“You are entitled to your opinion,” Ville observed calmly, passing Sharpshot another piece of fish as he mumbled, “Even if it is wrong.”

Toothless huffed in agreement, balefully staring at Spitelout and baring his teeth when the warrior reached for his axe.

Ville’s eyes narrowed as he practically growled himself. “I will remind you, the dragons are off limits. You mess with them, you may not like the outcome.”

Spitelout did not take kindly to his statement, going off into a rant. “This is not to be born, Stoick,” he declared. “Will ye let this rebel threaten us? Tell us how we can and cannot behave against our worst enemies,” he inquired emphatically, glaring at the dragons.

“I’m pretty sure our worst enemy is Alvin,” Gobber chimed in, only for Spitelout’s ire to turn to him, causing the blacksmith to throw up his hands in surrender. “I’m just sayin’.”

He wasn’t the only one to attempt to diffuse the situation as Viggo spoke up next, his tones clipped. “I will remind you that it is more than just the Dragon Master you speak against, but also his entire tribe. I would suggest you choose your response wisely.”

“Especially as the Stormhearts’ alliance with the Berserkers is one we value highly,” Dagur added smugly. “Berk’s is nothing in comparison and one that we would not regret losing.”

Spitelout looked about ready to explode and Stoick wasn’t faring much better. Of course, it didn’t help matters that there was an angry Night Fury snarling over his shoulder. “Stand down, Toothless,” Ville ordered. “There is no need to attack…yet.”

That seemed to finally get the precariousness of the situation through Stoick’s thick head. He bit back what was sure to have been a scathing retort and tersely said, “Spitelout, I’d appreciate it if you’d keep your opinions about our guests to yourself.” 

The Chief’s brother let out a strangled grunt. “It gets so a man can’t even speak his mind,” he accused.

“You can’t tell us what to do,” Snotlout yelled, clearly offended on his father’s behalf.

“I don’t believe I did,” Ville observed coolly, passing a rather large chunk of fish to Toothless as thanks for backing down.

“But you said-”

“I said that the dragons are off limits,” he reminded the idiot heir. “That is the only stricture I placed on you and I am well within my rights to protect what is mine. “ Having reached the end of his patience, he stood, his chair scraping loudly across the floor. “Seeing as that is not something you are capable of complying with, I think it would be best if we took our leave.”

His family and Dagur were quick to join him, their dragons standing guard around them as they made their way out.

Behind him, Ville heard Stoick call out, “Gobber, where are you going?”

“I dunno, but I’m not stayin’ here after that,” the other man replied.

Sure enough, the blacksmith stepped outside shortly after them and Ville felt the need to apologize. “Sorry Gobber, but I couldn’t stand it any longer.”

“I don’t blame ye,” the other man responded, clapping Ville on the back.

“You’re more than welcome to come back with us,” he offered. “I’m sure Norell cooked extra, knowing that things might not go well.”

“I’d be honored to join ye, laddie,” Gobber said happily, falling in step with their group as they returned to their ship. 

They stepped into the common room to find the table heaped with food as Ryker and Norell were talking with Ruffnut, though upon their entrance all eyes turned to them.

Ruffnut looked at them in confusion. “What are you doing back,” she asked. “Norell said…”

“Let’s just say dinner with the ‘Chief’ didn’t go well,” Ville replied, taking advantage of her pause and sitting beside her. “And the food was lousy.”

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t last long,” Norell commented, nodding toward the spread.

“Thank you, Norell,” he said appreciatively, grabbing a plate and filling it up as his appetite had suddenly returned. After sating his most immediate hunger, he glanced at Ruffnut and said, “Sorry most of us were gone. I didn’t have an opportunity to tell you.”

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “I like Norell a lot and it was nice getting to talk more with her.”

“So, how did it go,” Ryker queried, jumping into their conversation.

Ville shrugged. “About as well as we expected.” That was apparently not the right response, though, as it had his brother getting to his feet and storming toward the door with Ville racing after him. “Ryker!”

“It’s about time someone taught them a lesson,” his older brother growled, as Ville grabbed his arm.

“It won’t solve anything,” he insisted.

“It’ll make me feel better,” Ryker countered grimly.

“Please, Ryker,” Ville begged. “Just leave it.”

Ryker’s eyes narrowed before he reluctantly gave a sharp nod. “I’ve been incredibly patient,” he pointed out, “but for you, I’ll give them one more chance. After that, though, I make no promises.”

With that, the two of them returned to the table, but all Ville could think of was that Berk was doomed.

“He’s very protective,” Ruffnut observed quietly, glancing at Ryker.

“They both are, in their own ways,” Ville acknowledged, shooting a quick glance at Viggo, belatedly realizing that his brother had made absolutely no move to stop the eldest Grimborn from tearing the Berkians limb from limb. “I appreciate it,” he conceded, “but I don’t think they realize that sometimes I need to fight my own battles.”

“Still, it’s nice to know they care,” Ruffnut said wistfully.

“It is,” he agreed, reaching out and grasping her hand, giving it a slight squeeze to remind her that she was not alone, at least not right now. 

She smiled at him softly and returned to the remains of her meal, leaving him to think that it would not be fair to give her this friendship with him and his family and then to take it away. But what could be done?

Chapter Text

Ville was at the forge again the next day taking care of a few last things for Gobber who had left to take a break. He didn’t mind helping out as it gave him an excuse to spend time with his old friend and allowed him to pound out his frustration with the Berkians in a healthy way. Speaking of, he had a feeling that release would be needed as Snotlout and Tuffnut were heading his way.

“Just great,” he muttered, keeping an eye on the approaching pair who, sure enough, were coming to the forge.

“What are you doing here,” Snotlout sneered, as he caught sight of Ville.

“Lending your blacksmith a hand,” he responded, though he thought that should be fairly obvious as he continued reshaping the sword he had been working on. “If you have a weapon that needs to be repaired, you can feel free to leave it or return when Gobber is here.”

“Like I’d leave it with you,” Snotlout scoffed. “You’d probably sabotage it.”

“Yeah,” Tuffnut chimed in angrily. “Just like you’ve been doing to everything else here. It’s your fault my sister left and refuses to speak with me.”

While damaging his cousin’s weapon to teach him a lesson was tempting, his professional pride would never allow him to do such a thing. As for the other matter, though… “Ruffnut sought me out, wanting some advice from an outside perspective. The decision was her own,” he maintained, though he could see that the two muttonheads didn’t believe him.

Snotlout rolled his eyes. “Yeah, just like it was Uncle Stoick’s decision to allow you to run roughshod all over us.”

Ville’s eyebrows shot up at the accusation. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me,” Snotlout shouted, stomping inside the forge and trying to get into Ville’s face, which was laughable considering the Berkian heir was a whole head shorter. “Just cause you have dragons, you expect everyone to bow to your will.”

He just stared at his cousin incredulously. “I knew you were dumb but this takes the cake.”

“How dare you?!”

“I dare because I have done nothing more than attempt to keep the peace despite the hostility I have been shown,” he declared icily, looming over Snotlout. “Need I remind you that I did not come unannounced? Your Chief requested my help and it is for that reason only that I even set foot on this wet pile of rocks.” He pushed his cousin out of the way and moved over to the sharpening wheel, smirking to himself at how his cousin stepped back as the sparks began to fly.

“Phht, yeah, cause you’ve been so much help,” Tuffnut commented sarcastically from the hatch.

“I can’t remove the dragons who are causing the problems when they aren’t even here,” Ville pointed out tersely, beginning to lose his patience with these two.

“I bet they’re not even coming back,” Snotlout proclaimed, “and you’re just trying to milk us for everything you can.”

“Oh, yes,” Ville snarked, “because Gobber’s paying me a small fortune to help out here and I feast like a king at the Great Hall every night.” He pointed the sword he had been sharpening at Snotlout’s throat, his patience finally snapping. “Have you even been paying attention?! I barely spend any time in the village unless I’m here, and I’ve been helping repair your weapons out of the goodness of my heart, for no pay I might add, though considering the way I’ve been treated since my arrival, I should charge double,” he contended. “We catch and prepare our own food and have put no strain on the village whatsoever. So, please, enlighten me as to how exactly I’ve been taking advantage of you, because it’s not apparent to me,” he finished, his voice dripping with contempt.

Snotlout gulped, a dangerous thing to do when a sword was so near your throat, and remained silent, but Tuffnut was not feeling as threatened, saying, “You’re charging Berk an outrageous fee for nothing.”

“It is not for nothing,” Ville objected, lowering the sword but keeping a wary eye on his cousin. “It is for a service which I will provide as soon as the opportunity avails itself. As for the cost, I don’t believe you have anything to compare it to, so who are you to say if we are overcharging or not?”

“And your dragon stuck me in…that stuff,” Snotlout fumed, seeming to have gotten his voice back.

“You were prepared to attack him and he was defending himself,” Ville justified. “It’s instinct, for dragons as well as humans.”

“But you and Dagur used me for target practice,” his cousin screeched.

“And didn’t so much as nick you, I might point out, proving what excellent shots we are.” He turned around to put the sword away while keeping half an eye on the two Berkians. “Most people would take that as a warning,” he reasoned, returning his own swords to the holster on his back as he had finished the work he set out to do and wanted to be prepared in case things got out of hand. “Plus, I ended his fun early seeing as how I removed you from the amber.”

“You were threatening me,” Snotlout roared.

“You were threatening my family,” Ville countered, his gaze harsh.

“I was not,” the idiot argued, flinching as Toothless snarled and crept behind Ville, having made his way in through the back of the forge.

Realizing that his cousin did not understand his point, Ville laid his hand on Toothless’ head and clarified his previous statement. “The dragons, you dunderhead. They are my family as much as my brothers and their wives are. I also warned you not to bother me again, and yet here we are.”

That insult seemed to be the final straw as Snotlout jumped forward, swinging his mace in what Ville assumed was supposed to be an intimidating manner. “Fight me!”

Vilhehn snorted, making his disdain clear. “Don’t think I wouldn’t take pleasure in putting you in your place, but why should I bother?”

“Because if you don’t, you’re a coward,” his cousin shot back.

He raised an eyebrow and stated, “It takes strength to know when a fight is pointless.”

“So you admit I’m the better warrior,” Snotlout remarked, puffing out his chest proudly.

“Not by a long shot,” Ville retorted. “You are simply not worth my time. Now, if you have no business here, I would appreciate it if you’d leave.”

“Ha! Fat chance,” Snot declared, raising his mace in preparation to attack, only for the ground to give a mighty shake, knocking him off his feet.

“And I do believe that’s my cue to leave,” Ville observed casually as he mounted Toothless, mentally thanking the Whispering Deaths for having such perfect timing. “After all, I wouldn’t want you to think I’m not doing my job, now would I?”

With that, Toothless spun around and ran out the back of the forge, diving off the cliff and toward their ship.

Chapter Text

As they neared their ship, Ville said, “Hey, bud, do you mind collecting Garff and Karl while I change? Kuori, too.”

Toothless agreed and Ville raced into the hold and to his quarters, quickly slipping into his armor. He hoped that he would not need it for protection, but it wouldn’t hurt, plus, it made him look more like a dragon himself, which might help put the Whispering Deaths at ease.

As he ran up to the deck, he saw that Toothless already had their small team assembled. Ville jumped into the saddle and they were soon off, circling the island until Kuori could pick up a scent.

As they flew, Toothless warily asked, “Did that shake seem stronger than normal to you?”

“It did,” Ville nodded, “which is reason for concern. Do you suppose it could be…” He trailed off and shook his head. “No, that’s impossible,” he murmured.

“Nothing’s impossible,” Kuori growled as he caught a whiff of the trail and started leading them down.

“True,” Ville acknowledged. “We’ll just have to be extremely careful.”

They set down beside what looked to be a fresh tunnel, and an extremely large one at that. Ville dismounted, cautiously approaching as he called out. “Hello! Could we please talk for just a moment?”

There was absolute silence, which was not surprising as there was no telling exactly where the Deaths were in their expansive tunnel system.

“Kuori, can you track them,” Ville inquired.

“Only through the tunnels,” the Rumblehorn responded, “which is not the safest option.”

“They are very territorial,” he conceded, pulling out the moss he had stashed in his saddlebag for just such a situation. “I didn’t want to have to go this route, but Garff, you’re going to have to sing. Let’s hope there are no other dragons nearby that you pull in,” he remarked as he started to shape the moss. “I just need to make earplugs for Kuori and Karl real quick. Karl, can you hide in the nearby trees? I will signal you if we need your help.”

The Changewing agreed and once Ville had put the moss earplugs in, he took his position.

As Ville was fitting Kuori’s earplugs, he checked with Toothless. “You’ll be good, bud?”

The Night Fury rolled his eyes. “I got used to his singing a long time ago.”

“Alright,” he said, storing the rest of the moss back in the saddlebags. “Whenever you’re ready, Garff.”

The Death Song opened his mouth and started singing his siren-like song, trying to keep his voice somewhat low and aimed at the tunnel so that it would not call any other dragons who happened to be nearby. It wasn’t long before a distinct whispering noise was heard, and Garff backed up slightly, not wanting to be met with a mouth full of teeth.

As soon as the Whispering Death poked its head above ground, Garff stopped his singing and Ville stepped forward slowly, saying, “Hello, there. I’m sorry to have lured you in like that, but I wanted to speak with you, or perhaps the leader of your flock?”

The dragon eyed him guardedly, her teeth whirring softly. “And why do you make this request?”

“Because the Vikings who live here have asked for my assistance,” Ville explained. “Your tunneling has caused them great unease and if it continues they will be wont to attack. In fact, they have already tried to do so,” he shared, adding, “I would like to prevent bloodshed between species if possible.”

“Why should they kick us out of our nest,” she hissed.

“Because they claimed this territory first and live here permanently,” Ville reasoned, “while your flock seems to spend part of its time elsewhere.”

The Death’s eyes narrowed. “I will bring Skriger to you,” she declared before disappearing back into the tunnel.

“Skriger,” Garff queried, tilting his head curiously.

“Must be their leader,” Ville observed, giving Kuori and Karl the signal to remain alert. “Be ready for anything.”

The earth started rumbling as it had when he was in the forge and he took a few steps back, not prepared for the sight of the albino Titan Wing Screaming Death that burst out of the tunnel. The dragon flew in a small circle around them in a display of dominance before landing on the other side of the hole, staring at them imposingly.

Ville took a deep breath and spoke up. “Skriger, I presume?” At the dragon’s regal nod, he bowed low, proclaiming, “It is an honor to meet you.”

“Groundsplitter told me why you were here,” Skriger commented, lowering his head so that it was closer to Ville’s level. “Tell me, why should I move my nest on the whims of one so small?”

“Because this is not your only nest,” Ville pointed out.

“It is,” Skriger countered.

That caught Ville off guard. “Then where do you go as you do not spend all your time here?”

“Our first home was taken over by a Cavern Crasher,” the Screaming Death revealed. “We have been trying to reclaim it but have so far been unsuccessful. It has been decided that we will not make any more attempts.”

“Could we be of assistance,” Ville inquired, gesturing to himself and his draconic companions.

“I do not see how,” Skriger replied. “We are able to burrow after him and yet are unable to keep track of him for more than a few moments. This is our home now for all intents and purposes.”

This was going to be harder than Ville thought. “So, you see, there’s a bit of a problem with that.”

“What do you mean,” Skriger snarled. “Are you threatening to have your people attack us? You are a human, are you not? Because I assure you, we will prevail.”

“I have no intention of doing any such thing,” Ville reassured the Titan Wing dragon, removing his helmet as proof that he was indeed human. “I don’t even live here. I was simply asked to come to see if I could discern the heart of the matter and possibly convince you to relocate elsewhere.”

“Our tunnels here are almost complete,” Skriger announced. “It would be a waste for us to leave now.”

If the tunneling was to stop, so would the random quakes. That might be enough to convince the Berkians that all was good… Who was he kidding? They would continue to hunt these dragons until all were dead, though from the looks of things, it would be the Vikings whose lives were lost, not the Deaths. He had no attachment to the Berkians, but there was no cause for such needless bloodshed. How to convince Skriger, though…?

“I can understand your perspective,” he said thoughtfully, “really I can, but if you stay on this island you will constantly have to deal with the humans who live here trying to get rid of you.”

“Not if we take care of them first,” Skriger growled.

“You know what it was like to be forced out of your home,” Ville reminded the Titan Wing, noticing a slight softening around the dragon’s eyes. “Do you really want to do that to others?”

“They are only Vikings,” the Screaming Death justified, flapping his wings in the equivalent of a draconic shrug.

“As hard as it may be to believe, Vikings have feelings, too,” Ville divulged. “And what about their young,” he pressed.“Would you harm innocent hatchlings?”

That seemed to have struck a chord. Knowing what kind of predator Cavern Crashers were, he would not be completely surprised if eggs were lost as the dragons fled their homes. Ville’s goal was not to bring back bad memories of what was sure to have been a difficult time, but he needed Skriger to understand how much damage such a course would cause. After all, most dragons were not heartless and made a point to leave hatchlings of any species alone.

“You make a compelling argument,” the Titan Wing acknowledged, “but that does not factor in the need to find another nest.”

“You would be more than welcome to join us at our nest,” Ville proposed, thinking he would figure out how to explain this to Viggo later. “If it does not suit, we would be happy to help you find something that does.”

“That is a generous offer,” Skriger hesitantly admitted.

“I aim to help any dragon I can,” Ville declared, bowing slightly.

The Screaming Death seemed to think for a moment before coming to a decision. “Very well,” he said. “We will accept your kind offer.”

“Thank you,” Ville responded, letting go of the breath he had subconsciously been holding. “We will probably leave in a day or two, if that is acceptable?” At Skriger’s agreement, he asked, “How many does your flock number?”

“Ten in total.”

“Hmm, there may not be room on our ship for all of you,” he mused, thinking that the Screaming Death alone would take up most of the deck, “but perhaps you could go ahead with one or two of the other dragons as an escort. My only request is that you cease your tunneling here and do not start tunneling at our nest until after I arrive.”

“And why is that,” Skriger inquired.

“Our nest also includes humans,” he explained, hastily adding, “They are friendly, but would need to be warned before any tunneling commences. There is an ample stable, though, and a few other Whispering Deaths who I am sure would not object to sharing their tunnels with your flock.”

“I suppose that will do,” Skriger observed, bobbing his massive head. “You will let me know when we are to depart?”

Ville nodded, “I will.”

Chapter Text

After completing the arrangements with Skriger, Vilhehn removed the moss earplugs from Kuori and Karl. With that taken care of, he mounted up and they were soon heading back to the docks, only for Ville to catch sight of a crowd gathered around his family’s ship.

“Oh, great,” he groaned. “I don’t think I even want to know what’s going on down there.” With a sigh of resignation, he leaned forward and scratched Toothless’ jaw. “What say we give them a show, bud? Give them something to talk about and a bit of a distraction?”

“If I have to catch you it’ll ruin the illusion,” Toothless pointed out.

“I’ve got this,” he reassured his friend before sliding out of the saddle and plummeting headfirst toward the ocean waves.

They weren’t that close to the docks, but near enough that he managed to hear part of a scream, signaling that he had probably been spotted. Taking that as his cue, he stuck his arms through the loops for his flightsuit and spread his wings, slowing his descent and allowing him to glide to the dock with Toothless at his side and the other dragons close behind.

His feet had barely touched the planks when he took advantage of the stunned silence, asking, “What is the meaning of this?”

Fortunately, his brother was the one to answer. “The Berkians were demanding you take care of the Whispering Death issue,” Viggo divulged with one eyebrow raised, his tone bordering on exasperation as he eyed the Vikings hostilely.

“I already did,” Ville informed the gathered crowd, noting the skeptical looks on many of their faces as he returned his wings to the pockets sewn into his armor.

“How do we know it’s true,” Spitelout demanded, riling the Berkians up once again.

“The shaking has stopped, has it not,” Ville contended, causing some of the Vikings to quiet down. “I would think that was proof enough.”

“But how do we know it won’t start up again,” Stoick pressed.

“Because the dragons will be leaving with us and relocating to another island,” Ville explained, noticing his brother’s eyes narrow at his statement. Ugh, he was hoping to put off that conversation with Viggo until they were already on their way, but he doubted he would be able to delay that long now. At least his brother was only aware of the Whispering Deaths and not the Screaming Death, though, so things could be worse. Speaking of…

“And how do we know they won’t return,” Stoick prodded.

“You have my word,” Ville assured his ‘father’ sternly.

Stoick just crossed his arms and stared at him doubtfully. “I’m going to need something more than that.”

“Like what,” Ville snapped, the events of the last twenty-four hours feeling like they were about to suffocate him. Between the tensions in the Great Hall the night before and having to deal with Snotlout and Tuffnut at the forge today, not to mention reasoning with one of the largest wild dragons he had ever encountered to save these miserable Vikings’ lives, he had it up to here. “I don’t know why I’m surprised,” he sneered. “You never believed me back then and you still don’t now.” Shaking his head, he added. “Some things will never change.”

“Vilhehn,” Viggo barked angrily.

He winced, only now realizing that he had let his frustration get the better of him and shared information that would have been better kept secret. Well, it was too late to change anything now. The Berkians were not that smart though, so maybe…

“What did you say,” Stoick inquired, eyeing him warily.

Well, so much for that hope. Figuring that if he was going to go through with this, he might as well make it good, he reached up to remove his helmet and boldly met his father’s gaze. “You heard me, Dad,” he said disdainfully. “Looks like the little hiccup didn’t fare so badly after all,” he remarked. “Of course, I never would have become the person I am today if it wasn’t for my family. My REAL family,” he clarified, gesturing to his brothers who had come to flank him, with Toothless growling menacingly from behind them.

“But you’re dead,” Spitelout stated incredulously.

“That was what you wanted, wasn’t it,” Ville replied, glaring at his uncle. He had not been informed of the full story until he was older, but he knew it now and was not about to keep quiet. “If it weren’t for the few friends I had, I would have been dead, and at your hands no less.”

“What are you talking about,” Stoick queried, seeming to be thoroughly confused.

Before Ville could respond, Gobber stepped forward and revealed all. “Gothi overheard Spitelout plotting to kill the lad and we took matters into our own hands, faking his death and hiding him away.”

“And I snuck him out of Berk and onto our ship when we visited for the treaty signing,” Dagur declared smugly from where he had come to join them.

Stoick looked back at Ville, finally seeming to realize the truth. “Hiccup?”

Ville rolled his eyes. “Took you long enough,” he snarked, “but that’s not my name. Not anymore. In fact, it hasn’t been for twelve years. And let me tell you, I was never more happy than to leave my past behind.”

“But Hiccup! This is your home,” Stoick exclaimed.

“My home,” Ville scoffed. “The place where I was starved and beaten and you didn’t even care? You never listened to me,” he yelled.

“Being Chief comes with a lot of responsibilities and-”

“And that doesn’t give you an excuse to neglect your family,” he argued vehemently. “Viggo never has and he became Chief when I was seven. Yes, there were times when the tribe’s needs had to come first, but he never made me feel like I couldn’t come to him. He was always there for me, despite his responsibilities. That’s what a home is,” he proclaimed. “It’s somewhere you are loved and cared for with a family who supports you no matter what. I found that, and it’s not here,” he spat, eyeing his father with disgust. “The only reason you want me back is probably because I’ve proven myself a force to be reckoned with. But I’m not what you would consider a traditional Viking, so how long would that last,” he inquired rhetorically. “I’m not willing to stick around and find out. I’ve taken care of your dragon problem but don’t expect anything else from me.”

“But you’re my son! This is your birthright,” Stoick insisted.

Ryker growled and withdrew one of his swords, but Ville’s arm shot out in front of him, wordlessly asking him to hold off for now.

“Why would I want it?! I may have been born here, but that does not define who I am,” Ville countered. “My real family has helped me to forge my own future, one that is in no way connected to you. I am a Stormheart, through and through, and nothing you say or do can change that,” he declared emphatically.

“Regardless of what you believe, you are my son and heir and will remain,” Stoick ordered, getting red in the face…well, redder.

“You can’t force me to do anything,” he shot back, “and I can guarantee, you won’t like the outcome if you try.”

By now, Viggo had unsheathed his sword as well and both of his brothers were ready to fight. Dagur had also drawn his axe, and that wasn’t even mentioning the dragons who were becoming increasingly agitated. The only thing holding them back was the fact that Ville had not ordered them to attack, but he knew the moment he did, they would spring into action.

At least Stoick was wise enough to realize this and began to backtrack. “Perhaps we can come to an agreement. A trial period of sorts?”

Ville snorted. “The week I’ve been here was enough of a trial. I have no intention of remaining a minute longer than I have to.”

“But Hiccup-”

“THAT IS NOT MY NAME,” he shouted, breathing heavily as he tried to rein in his emotions. “I am Vilhehn Grimborn,” he stated proudly, “younger brother of the Chief of the Stormhearts, and you would do well to remember that.”

His change of name seemed to strike a chord with his ‘father,’ and not a good one. “You have to stay,” Stoick demanded.

“I don’t have to do anything,” he observed harshly, fingering Inferno, just in case.

“You were taken from us,” Stoick roared, glaring at Viggo and Ryker, as well as Dagur, and even Gobber to an extent. “We would have every right to attack and bring you back to where you belong.”

“I belong with the Stormhearts,” he stated firmly, leaving no room for argument. “And do you really think you would have any chance against us,” he asked incredulously before wildly gesturing to their entourage. “We have the dragons,” he pointed out. “Not to mention the fact that our tribe is triple the size of yours.”

“We will take our chances,” Stoick growled adamantly.

Ville could see his ‘father’ was serious and though he knew the Stormhearts would come out victorious, at what cost? It would not be right to let others suffer because of him…not when he could end this now.

Throwing back his shoulders, he looked his father in the eye and said, “I will make you an offer. A duel between the two of us.”

“Ville,” Viggo hissed, his displeasure more than apparent.

He shot his brother a quick glance, reassuring him without words that he knew what he was doing before continuing. “If you win, then I will consent to remain for a trial period, nothing more,” he proposed. “But if I win, you will renounce all connection to me, never contacting me or speaking of me again.”

Stoick smirked and rubbed his hands together. “This should be easy. I accept.”

Chapter Text

Arrangements were made for the duel to take place the next day in the arena, and as the Berkians began to disperse, Viggo pulled his younger brother to the side.

“Are you sure that was a wise idea,” he inquired sternly.

Before Ville could respond, Ryker joined them and said. “He can take him.”

Viggo pinched the bridge of his nose. “It is not only the duel I am concerned about,” he clarified. “You also revealed your identity, Vilhehn. Your true identity,” he emphasized. “Something we had resolved to keep secret.”

“I’m sorry, Viggo,” his younger brother apologized sincerely. “I didn’t mean to let it slip, but once it did, there was no going back. As for the duel-”

“It is not that I do not have faith in your skill, Ville,” he interjected, wanting to assure his brother of his support, “but there is a lot on the line. You know we would gladly fight them.”

“I know,” Vilhehn replied, ducking his head before meeting his brother’s gaze. “But there are bound to be injuries, both human and dragon. I would prefer to avoid that at all costs.”

“At risk to yourself?! We have been over this before,” Viggo declared incredulously.

“Ville will win.”

Viggo turned to see that Ruffnut had joined them and, while he appreciated her confidence in Vilhehn, he needed to know why. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’ve never seen anyone fight like that,” she claimed, gesturing to their ship where she had seen them spar. “The Chief may be good, but his skills pale in comparison to what I saw. Any one of you could take him.”

Ville smirked at Ryker as he said, “Told you.”

Apparently, his brothers had some sort of discussion about this before, but that did not matter at the moment. “I still do not like this,” Viggo maintained. “And that does not even count the fact that Gobber and Gothi have been put in an uncomfortable position,” he stated, gesturing toward the two Berkians who had remained on the dock with them. “I cannot say that it is truly safe for them here, not with the way Stoick was saying you were ‘taken’ from them.”

“I’ve got no attachment to this place,” Gobber spoke up, shrugging casually. “Not anymore at least.”

Gothi nodded in agreement, making it clear that she would have no problem leaving.

“You are more than welcome to return with us to Tulva, if you so desire,” Viggo offered. “That extends to you as well, Ruffnut,” he added, reaffirming the invitation they had extended to her at the beginning of their stay.

Everyone was quick to agree that it would be for the best, and leaving Berk without its blacksmith and healers only seemed to sweeten the deal.

“For safety purposes, it might be best if we collect your belongings now,” Viggo suggested, “and move you onto the ship where we can best provide protection. Ruffnut, Heddi and Norell can accompany you and Gothi while Dagur goes with Gobber.”

Ruffnut nodded and made her way onto the ship to collect her friends. Viggo knew his wife and Norell would have preferred being part of the action, but with the way things had been going when the Berkians swarmed the docks, he had felt it would be best if they remained below deck where no harm could be done to them.

“Maybe after I get me stuff, ye can give me a sample of your fightin’ skills,” Gobber said to Ville. “I can tell ye what Stoick’s weaknesses are,” he revealed with a wink, before hobbling away, waving off Dagur’s offer of a ride on Sleuther.

The Berserker was quite vocal in his complaints at having to take the slower route, but went along with the blacksmith regardless. Meanwhile, on the deck, he could hear the girls helping Gothi to mount Skarpur. Ville himself was getting on Toothless’ back, most likely with the intent to help, but there was a reason Viggo had not given him an assignment.

“We are not done here, Vilhehn,” he stated firmly, warning Toothless not to go anywhere before turning to his eldest brother. “Ryker, could you please make sure the cabins are ready?”

The eldest Grimborn nodded and set off as Viggo quirked one eyebrow at Ville. “Now, about those Whispering Deaths…”

Ville cringed and hesitantly smiled, explaining, “They were forced out of their home by a Cavern Crasher. They won’t necessarily be staying on Tulva.”

Viggo continued to hold his brother’s gaze, knowing there was more. “But…?”

“But it’s a possibility,” his brother shrugged awkwardly, hastening to add, “Only if it suits their needs. I offered to help them find another home if it doesn’t work out.”

Viggo pinched the bridge of his nose once again. “Ville, we can not just keep bringing more dragons to Tulva,” he muttered.

“But they need a home,” Ville reasoned. “And they’re self-sufficient. Plus-” He cut himself off, gulping nervously as his eyes were everywhere but on Viggo.

That did not bode well. “Vilhehn…”

“They’re not just Whispering Deaths,” he hesitantly admitted.

Viggo’s eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“The leader of their flock may just happen to be…a Screaming Death,” he disclosed, smiling self-consciously.

“Vilhehn! What were you thinking?!”

“I was thinking that if we ever do have a run-in with Drago, a Titan Wing Screaming Death could come in handy,” he justified.

Viggo took a deep breath, trying to see things from his brother’s point of view. “I will not discount the fact that this might work in our favor,” he acknowledged, “but-”

“There are only ten dragons,” Ville broke in, trying desperately to persuade him. “It’s not that many.”

He sighed and ran a hand down his face. “We will give it a try,” he capitulated. “But if things do not work out on either end-”

“-then I will help relocate them,” Ville finished, nodding his head eagerly. “I promise.”

Viggo let out a short laugh. For all that his little brother had grown up, there were still some aspects of him that had remained the same. “Oh, Ville… I am sure you will cause me to go grey before my time.”

“I don’t mean to,” he protested. “Are you sure those greys aren’t from Elisabet and Niko?”

“It they are, it is only because of your influence upon them,” Viggo retorted, pleased to see that his younger brother at least had the grace to grin guiltily. Setting his hand on Ville’s shoulder, he gave it a light squeeze. “Just be careful out there tomorrow,” he requested, “for all our sakes.”

“I will,” Vilhehn nodded earnestly. “I’m not about to let anything separate me from my real family.”

Chapter Text

The next day dawned bright and fair, one that practically screamed victory. Ville was not about to get cocky, though, knowing that he would need to keep his wits about him to come out triumphant.

Under the cover of night, he had scoped out the arena, getting a feel for the uneven terrain and taking notes of which spots could become more troublesome. If he happened to free the two dragons that were caged there at the same time, well, you didn’t hear it from him. Gobber’s advice had also proven valuable and he was determined to use it to his best advantage.

The rules for the duel were simple: to fight until your opponent was disarmed. While Ville would have preferred to fight with both swords, he realized Stoick might claim it was an unfair advantage as he would have to be disarmed twice. Therefore, he was resolved to use just one sword and his shield, though he did have Inferno strapped to his leg, just in case.

Most of the dragons and the crew remained on the ship as a safeguard, rather than joining them at the arena. Though there had been no attempts made the night they went to the Great Hall, none of them were willing to let down their guard, even for a moment.

Ville’s whole family was there, though, to cheer him on, but only after extracting promises for him to be careful. Toothless and Rynnätä had come as well, perching on the chained dome and keeping a wary eye on the assembled Berkians. Dagur, Gobber, and Gothi were sitting with his family, while Ruffnut had accompanied him to the entrance of the arena.

He passed her his second sword and asked, “Would you mind keeping an eye on this for me?” It would keep his weapon close at hand, but also give her the ability to defend herself in case anyone tried to harass her.

“I’d be honored,” she replied. Laying her hand on his arm, she glanced at Stoick who was standing nearby and smirked. “Go easy on him.”

Stoick scoffed, and Ruffnut glared at him. Ville had to bite back a laugh as he realized his ‘father’ had thought Ruffnut was speaking to him.

She quickly disabused him of that notion, though. “I wasn’t talking to you, Chief,” she clarified, her use of his title filled with scorn. With that, she stomped off to join Ville’s family.

“What was that about,” Stoick demanded warily.

“None of your business,” Ville shot back before taking a step toward the arena, only to be stopped by a meaty hand on his shoulder, one that made him tense, though he doubted his ‘father’ could feel the change through his armor.

“Is there something you’d care to tell me, boy,” Stoick queried, his voice dangerously low.

Ville glared at his ‘father,’ shaking his hand off his shoulder. “Only that I don’t intend to lose,” he responded emphatically, shoving his helmet onto his head as he strolled into the arena, appearing for all intents and purposes as calm and collected as may be, though inside he was a torrent of roiling emotions that he thought he had dealt with years ago.

He settled into his opening stance, watching Stoick carefully to discern what his first move would be. Just as Gobber predicted, the Berkian Chief charged headfirst, not believing in beating around the bush. It was tempting to just sidestep, and if it had been Snotlout or Spitelout, Ville would have done it, but Stoick was not one to be fooled by such a simple trick.

Blocking his ‘father’s’ blow with his sword, he noted that while not the same weapon he remembered from his childhood, the axe was quite similar, the iron being incredibly thick and not something his Dragon Iron sword would be able to cut through easily. If he could manage to hit it in the same spot repeatedly, he might be able to break it, but such precision in the middle of a duel would not be easy, especially when Stoick was doing his best to disarm him. 

Thankfully, he had been primed by Gobber on the Berkian Chief’s favored methods of attack and was able to predict each move before it occurred. His strikes were definitely weakening his ‘father’s’ axe, and while he could probably slice the handle with ease and declare the duel over, this match was about more than winning. It was about proving himself. Proving that he was a Stormheart and not a Berkian.

As he continued to defend himself, using both his shield and sword, Stoick growled, “Is the helmet really necessary?”

“You’re wearing one,” Ville countered matter-of-factly.

“That’s different,” his ‘father’ grunted, landing another heavy blow that bounced off Ville’s shield causing his arm to ache.

While Stoick did technically have a point as their helmets looked nothing alike, a helmet was still helmet, resulting in Ville stating, “It’s really not,” and switching to the offensive.

While Stoick had more experience in fighting than Ville, it had been focused exclusively on slaying dragons and defeating Outcasts. There was no finesse in the way he fought, unlike Ville who was now dancing around him effortlessly, blocking his blows and making a few quick swipes of his own, using his opponent’s size against him and tiring him out further.

Finally, Vilhehn saw his opening. As Stoick put all his weight into a swing, Ville ducked below the axe and swept his metal prosthetic around, pulling his ‘father’s’ leg out from under him. What he hadn’t counted on was Stoick’s viselike grip on his weapon. He had expected it to fly out of his hand, thereby ending the duel. But after a life spent fighting dragons, where if you didn’t have a weapon, you were dead, he supposed it was an understandable reflex. 

Several options flew rapidly through his head. He could let the duel drag on a little longer, but he had proven his point to himself by felling his father, so he discarded his alternate plans and swiftly brought down his sword, cutting cleanly through Stoick’s axe handle. It was an effective move, but it did not go over well.

“How dare you resort to cheating,” Stoick glowered, shaking the remains of his handle in Ville’s face as the crowd began to whisper.

“Cheating,” he responded incredulously. “I don’t believe there were any rules to begin with. Only to disarm your opponent.”

“In a sportsmanlike manner,” his ‘father’ stipulated angrily.

Ville glanced at the abandoned axehead and a smile crept over his face as he caught sight of a crack in the iron that he had not been able to spot in the heat of battle. “Have it your way,” he shrugged before swinging his sword directly at the crack and completely shattering the weapon.

At that, the crowd went silent, and they weren’t the only ones. The look of shock on Stoick’s face was priceless as he murmured, “How did you…?”

Ville ignored that question and sheathed his sword on his back before gesturing to the broken axe. “Are you satisfied now or is that not disarmed enough?”

His ‘father’ didn’t seem to hear him though, or at least he didn’t note the frustration in his voice. From what Ville could tell by the way Stoick was looking at him, all he saw was a mighty warrior that he had to keep on Berk, no matter what. “Hiccup, you have to stay-”

“FOR THE LAST TIME, THAT IS NOT MY NAME,” Ville shrieked, slipping Inferno from its holster and igniting it as he pointed the weapon at Stoick, the flames dripping off and falling dangerously close to the Berkian Chief’s feet. “And seeing as I won, you have now renounced any and all connections to me,” he reminded his ‘father,’ his voice harsh. Waving Inferno to where he knew his family had been sitting, he added, “Be glad you weren’t fighting my brothers. They would have taken things MUCH farther, and enjoyed every minute of it,” he snarled before spinning on his heel and leaving the arena.

His family was waiting at the exit and seeing them there helped him to calm down. “So, with that taken care of, I guess we can leave,” he observed, removing his helmet as Toothless and Rynnätä joined them.

“That was a fine display, Vilhehn,” Viggo remarked with a smile, his relief more than evident as Heddi added her agreement.

Ryker then clapped him on the back, saying, “You’ve come a long way, brother.”

“Thanks,” he grinned, accepting congratulations from Norell and Dagur as well.

“That was amazing,” Ruffnut declared as she rushed to his side, handing him back his other sword. “You’ll have to teach me how to fight like that.”

“Oh, well, I suppose I could,” Ville hedged, “but Ryker’s a much better teacher.”

“I think you’re more than ready to take on some students of your own,” Ryker said with a wink, causing Ville to blush.

He would be upset at his family for trying to encourage him to spend more time with Ruff, but he was fair enough to realize he had done much the same to them when he was younger. In his defense, though, at that age, he hadn’t fully understood these things. It wasn’t like he had been trying to embarrass anyone…unlike his brothers.

At least he had a reprieve when Astrid approached their party, though considering how things had gone down, he wasn’t sure what she was doing here.

“That was pretty impressive,” she praised, looking at him in admiration.

He nodded politely and thanked her, but before he could make his excuses and leave, she spoke again.

“Maybe we could spar sometime,” she suggested earnestly. “I’d love to learn more about the techniques you used in the arena.”

Ville quirked an eyebrow and said, “You do realize this match was to reaffirm that Berk has no claim on me, right? Because we’re leaving as soon as our ship is ready.”

“We’ll, yes,” she acknowledged hesitantly, “but I just thought-”

“Let it go, Astrid,” Ville stated softly, not wanting to be too hard on the girl. “It’s never going to happen.”

He could tell that she was disappointed, but as she nodded and left, Ville knew that it would be short-lived. After all, she didn’t know him, so she had no true attachment to him. It was only the idea of him that she found appealing.

Speaking of appealing, Ville held out his hand to Ruffnut and escorted her down to the ship, the two of them trailing slightly behind his family.

Chapter Text

It did not take long for them to prepare the ship for departure, and Ville soon sent off a small party of dragons to collect the flock that was leaving with them. As they waited for the dragons, he caught sight of a group making their way down the switchbacks with Stoick in the lead.

He was not the only one to notice, as Viggo came to stand at his side and observed, “I did not think they would have the decency to see us off.”

Ville scoffed and followed his brother to the gangplank, Ryker joining them on the way. “They probably just want to make sure we’re actually taking the Deaths with us,” he commented with a roll of his eyes.

The three of them stood side by side on the dock as the Berkians approached. Stoick stepped slightly in front of the others, reluctantly saying, “I thank you for the…assistance you provided.”

“Speaking of, there is still the matter of the remainder of our payment,” Viggo pointed out, eyeing the other Chief coldly.

Stoick sneered. “Seeing as how I have not seen for myself the dragons that were removed-”

“Take a look, Stoick,” Ville interrupted, his tone derisive as he gestured toward the flock of Whispering Deaths and their leader heading out to sea, accompanied by Toothless, Garff, and Karl. He had to admit, the look on the Berkians’ faces at the sight of the Screaming Death was priceless.

“What is that thing,” Stoick inquired, the slightest hint of fear in his voice.

“The dragons you asked us to remove,” he replied matter-of-factly, not deigning to give them any more information than that. “I do believe that means we are due the rest of our payment.”

Stoick grumbled, but begrudgingly removed a pouch from his belt and passed it to Viggo, who promptly counted the coins, ensuring that their full payment was there. He gave a sharp nod before cinching the pouch. “I would say it was a pleasure doing business with you, but that would be mendacious.”

Ville followed Viggo as he turned to board the ship, but both paused as Ryker spoke.

“One final word before we leave,” he declared, stepping rather close to the Berkian Chief. “If you attempt to come after us or contact us or so much as mention Vilhehn’s name, we will destroy you,” he snarled.

Stoick’s eyes narrowed. “Is that a threat?”

“That’s a promise,” Ryker growled, getting in the Berkian Chief's face before spinning on his heel and prodding his younger brothers to get going. 

Ville exchanged an amused glance with Viggo at their oldest brother’s statement, before they both obeyed, walking up the gangplank.

“Speaking of promises, I can’t guarantee that we’ll be renewing our treaty with you,” Dagur chimed in from where he was leaning over the railing. “But that will be up to my dad,” he shrugged. “Don’t worry though, I’ll be giving him a full report of what happened during our stay.” He closed his statement with a grin that looked downright frightening and Ville was glad he was not the one on the receiving end.

The gangplank was pulled up and the mooring line was released, allowing the ship to pull out of the dock. Gobber and Gothi stepped to the railing and waved farewell, smug smiles plastered on their faces that only seemed to grow at Stoick’s gobsmacked expression.

The Berkian Chief did find his voice, though, and shouted, “Where do you think you’re going?!”

“Somewhere the people actually care about each other,” Gobber retorted. “Have fun finding yerselves a new blacksmith.”

Ruff ran to join them. “And new healers, too,” she added, slinging her arm around Gothi’s shoulders. “Though I doubt you’ll find anyone willing to put up with that amount of disrespect.”

“Sis!” Ville glanced over to see Tuffnut staring up at his sister in complete shock. “How could you betray me like that?”

“Tell it to someone who cares,” she shot back as the ship left the docks and began pulling out of the harbor.

Ville made his way over to Ryker who was at the helm, setting their course to return to Tulva. “It’ll be good to leave the stench of Berk behind us.”

Ville shook his head in amusement. “Not all of them are that bad,” he reasoned, nodding toward their guests.

“I’ll give you that, but they’re far and few between,” Ryker maintained before glancing at Ville with a questioning look. “Don’t you need to get going?”

“I want to put a bit of distance between us and Berk before we leave to pick up the kids,” he explained. “No need for them to see that our party is temporarily splitting up. I doubt even they are dumb enough to try anything, but…” He trailed off and shrugged. “Plus, I need to write a note to send ahead with Sharpshot.”

“Get to it then,” Ryker ordered, waving him off brusquely.

Ville wasn’t fooled by his oldest brother’s gruff manner, though. “You’re missing Ansa and Immi, aren’t you?”

“Of course,” Ryker muttered. “We’ve been gone for over a week and I didn’t get to go back for a visit with the others.”

“You could have,” Ville claimed. “Or you could have gone on your own.”

“And leave you there with those crazed Berkians? I don’t think so,” Ryker declared, steering their ship into open waters. “Now, go get your letter written so you can pick up my girls.”

“Yes, sir,” Ville replied cockily, giving his brother a mock salute before heading down to his quarters.

Writing a note to Ryden didn’t take long. It was not necessary, per se, but he did want to assure the Stormhearts that the new dragons did not mean any harm, particularly since the Screaming Death was so large. He included their estimated date of arrival, as well as the fact that they would be bringing back a few guests, asking his brother-in-law if he could gather a few things to help make them comfortable until more permanent arrangements could be made.

Stepping onto the deck, he saw that Dagur was already on Sleuther, ready to head home. Rynnätä, Sulka, and Skarpur were also saddled, his family seemingly just waiting on him.

“Are you ready,” Viggo inquired.

Ville grabbed a small leather satchel and set about buckling it onto Sharpshot’s back. “Let me just attach this and… okay, good to go,” he declared, tucking in his letter and securing the flap. This method of sending letters was much more dependable than just tying the note on with string, something they had learned the hard way was not reliable enough.

The Deaths had up until now been keeping pace with them, but with Sharpshot joining Karl, and Toothless and Garff returning to the deck, the small flock of dragons took off, heading for Tulva at a much faster pace than their ship could manage.

Ville didn’t waste any time mounting Toothless as he could see that his family was eager to depart, but before they could take off, Ruffnut came running over.

“Are you all leaving,” she queried, a confused look on her face.

“Just to go get the kids,” Ville shared. “We should be back by sunset.”

“Oh, okay,” Ruff replied, blushing slightly. “I look forward to meeting them. I’ll see you soon then, I guess.”

Ville nodded and gave Toothless the signal to take off, absentmindedly wondering if he should have asked if she wanted to join them. It would have been awkward though, seeing as they would each have a child in addition to said child’s belongings. They wouldn’t be that long, though, and it wasn’t like Ruffnut would be surrounded by people she didn’t know. Ryker was still there, as were Gobber and Gothi. Plus, with how much of her time she had spent visiting them, she was sure to be at least slightly familiar with the crew.

He was pulled from his thoughts by Skarpur pulling up beside them and Norell remarking, “The two of you seem cozy.”

“We’re just friends,” he responded. “And she’s been through a lot lately.”

“True, but I do believe there’s more to it than that,” Heddi chimed in.

Ville did his best to stifle a groan, but he was not very successful. “Can you please stop trying to embarrass me?”

Viggo glanced at him from Rynnätä’s back with one eyebrow quirked. “Ville, after what you put us through, do you really expect us to just leave things be?”

“No,” he sighed, “but I can hope.”

Dagur laughed in that crazed way of his and said, “Man, I wish I could return to Tulva with you to see this through.”

And for the fact that he couldn’t, Ville was incredibly grateful.

Chapter Text

Their landing on Berserker Island was met with much joy as Ville’s nieces and nephew swarmed around them, excited at the prospect of heading home. Norell and Heddi skillfully corralled the children and led them back into the hut to collect their things, while Ville turned to his brother.

“While you get everything ready, I need to speak with Bevroren,” he informed him.

Viggo glanced at him with furrowed brows. “Did you not do that when we stopped here on our way to Berk?”

“No,” Ville shook his head. “We didn’t have much time and I didn’t want to be rude and turn down Oswald’s hospitality.”

His brother nodded understandingly before saying, “Do not take too long. I have a feeling the children are eager to get in the air.”

“Aren’t they always,” Ville countered with a smirk as he remounted Toothless.

“True,” Viggo admitted wryly, just before the Night Fury took to the air.

Not wasting any time, Toothless zipped into the mountain, heading straight for the cavern where they normally found the massive Bewilderbeast.

As they neared, Ville called out, “Bevroren, may I please speak with you?”

Rounding the last corner, the colossal dragon was revealed, his eyes already on them. “Ah, Vilhehn. It is always a pleasure to see you.”

“You as well,” Ville replied as Toothless landed and he dismounted. “Though I cannot say you will continue to feel the same when you hear what I have come to ask you.”

Bevroren tilted his head as his eyes narrowed. “What is it?”

“You see, some dragons came to our flock seeking sanctuary, having fled a nest with an Alpha controlled by a cruel human master,” he shared, pausing before revealing, “The Alpha is a Bewilderbeast.” Despite Bevroren’s offense that one of his kind could act in such a manner, Ville continued. “Sooner or later, the human master is bound to hear about my own status as Dragon Master and attack our home. What I need to know is do Bewilderbeasts have any weaknesses that I can exploit?” He hastened to add, “You know I would never cause harm to you, or another dragon if I can help it, but I must be able to defend my flock.”

Bevroren was quiet for a long moment, eventually stating, “While we can reach out into the minds of hatchlings, we cannot control them. Loss of sight and hearing can also diminish the effects of our control, but it depends on the dragon in question.”

“Nothing else,” Ville pressed, having hoped for something more.

“As far as weaknesses, nothing other than what is apparent,” Bevroren conceded.

The great Bewilderbeast delighted in speaking in riddles, prompting Ville to ask what exactly he meant.

“We cannot fly and our large size makes us more cumbersome on land,” Bevroren clarified.

Ville sighed. “That’s not a lot to work off of…”

“There is one other thing that may be of value,” the Bewilderbeast hesitantly acknowledged.

“What?”

“Your friend,” Bevroren disclosed, nodding his regal head toward Toothless.

The Night Fury’s eyes widened as he looked at the other dragon in shock. “Me?”

Bevroren bobbed his head. “Night Furies are also an Alpha species. If a call is stronger than the Bewilderbeast’s-”

“-the other dragons won’t succumb,” Ville finished.

“Precisely,” the Bewilderbeast confirmed.

“But how do I do that,” Toothless inquired.

“It is not something that can be explained, only felt,” Bevroren explained. “A deep desire to protect what is yours.”

“Well, it’s something,” Ville declared. It might not have been what they were hoping to hear, but at least they were a little better prepared, if only slightly. “Thank you for your help Bevroren. We must be going now, but I will be sure to visit next time I am here.”

“See that you do.”

With that, Ville mounted Toothless and they headed back toward Oswald’s house to find the others loading the children’s belonging onto their dragons.

“Perfect timing, Ville,” Viggo greeted him, glancing his way momentarily before Niko tugged his shirt, wanting his attention.

Norell was the next to acknowledge him, walking his way with a twin on each side of her, swinging their clasped hands back and forth. “Immi has insisted that she is riding with you and Toothless,” she informed him, to which he could only smile.

“We’ll be happy to have you aboard,” he assured his niece who promptly giggled and broke free from her mom, launching herself at them, her blonde braids flying out behind her. Ville scooped her up and set her on the saddle in front of him, asking Norell, “What about her stuff?”

“It’s already packed onto Skarpur,” she responded as she walked back over to her Razorwhip. “Don’t worry about it.”

Everyone else was mounting their dragons, and after a quick farewell to Oswald and his family, they were off.

Elisabet was allowed to join her family for flights, and was more used to the experience, but the twins and Niko were still rather young were rarely allowed up in the air. Therefore, Ville had wrapped his right arm around Immi to make sure she didn’t fall off Toothless, particularly because she was incredibly excited and bouncing slightly.

Toothless kept his flying fairly steady, though he would occasionally make a slight dip, if only to hear the little girl’s giggles. On one of those undertakings, Immi clutched the arm that Ville had wrapped around her and he had to choke back a shout from the pain that flared to life. He had completely forgotten about the force of those blows he had blocked with his shield that morning, and while the shield had provided invaluable protection, his arm was definitely bruised from defending himself, something that he was only now realizing. 

He gently pulled Immi’s small hands off and said, “Careful with my arm, sweetie. Don’t hold it so tight.”

She looked up at him, her big blue eyes wide with concern. “Did you hurt it?”

“A little,” he admitted, kissing the crown of her head, “but it will be fine.”

That seemed to satisfy her and she turned her attention forward once again.

The only problem was that the longer they flew, the more Ville realized he had something else to worry about. His stump was beginning to ache and it was only getting stronger as time passed. He remembered what Heddi had said about the possibility of phantom pains being triggered and with all the stress from the last few days, he was rather worn down and tired, which likely contributed to it. He had to grit his teeth in order not to groan aloud and alarm Immi.

Of course, Toothless was not so easy to fool and seemed to sense that something was wrong, worriedly crooning and asking if Ville was okay.

“Just get us back to the ship, bud,” he requested. “I can hold on until then.”

The Night Fury pulled ahead of the others, nothing too noticeable, but enough that they were able to land when the rest of his family was still about a minute out. Smart dragon that he was, Toothless touched down fairly close to Ryker, resulting in Immi scrambling off of him and into her father’s arms. It was a good thing, too, as Ville wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep up this façade. 

He encouraged Toothless to duck into the hold, and the Night Fury took them straight to their quarters, carefully helping Ville to dismount and get into his bunk. Removing his prosthetic certainly helped, but it was not enough, and as he lay there in pain, he wondered if going back to Berk had really been worth it.

Chapter Text

Ruffnut was wandering around the ship at loose ends. Gothi had gone to rest and Gobber was up on deck playing cards with some of the crew. She had met Heddi and Norell’s children, but while they were sweet, she didn’t feel right butting into their family time since they had been separated for so long. She determined to seek out Ville, but she couldn’t find him anywhere.

Finally accepting defeat, she made her way to the common room where the others had gathered with their families, thinking that maybe Ville had joined them while she was off looking for him. He was not there, though, which caused her to ask if anyone knew of his whereabouts.

There was a chorus of “no’s” while glances were exchanged and she could see the worry on everyone’s faces, though she couldn’t figure out why.

“Has anyone seen him since we got back,” Heddi queried, followed by more negative responses.

“Toothless slipped into the hold right after dropping off Immi,” Ryker shared. “He’s probably in his quarters.”

Viggo’s brow furrowed as he said, “You don’t think…”

Norell waved her hand dismissively, though her unease was still apparent. “He would have told us. He knows better than to try and deal with it on his own.”

“Not if it was too bad and he couldn’t,” Heddi reasoned.

“But Toothless would have come and gotten one of us,” Ryker spoke up.

“Not if Ville needed him there,” Viggo pointed out, “and with Sharpshot gone…“ He trailed off before hastily getting to his feet and leaving the room, leaving Ruffnut even more confused than she had been.

“What’s going on,” she demanded, only for her question to go unnoticed as the others were too caught up in their conversation.

“We should have noticed,” Norell muttered. “That’s probably why they pulled ahead there at the end.”

Heddi nodded in agreement. “I’d better go get some water. He’ll probably need tea.”

“Will someone please tell me what’s going on,” Ruff asked again, only for Viggo to burst into the room, his eyes almost frantically searching for his wife who was quickly at his side.

“It’s a bad one,” Viggo stated. “Heddi, can you-”

“I was already on my way,” she assured him and they both slipped out of the room.

Ruffnut had enough of being left in the dark. Turning back to Ryker and Norell, her voice raised as she said, “If someone doesn’t explain what’s going on-”

“I’m sorry, Ruffnut,” Norell apologized, encouraging her to take a seat beside her. “It’s been a while since we’ve had to deal with this and it has left us rather upended.” She paused and took a deep breath before revealing, “Sometimes Ville suffers from phantom pains where he lost his leg.”

“Oh,” Ruffnut murmured, surprised as she hadn’t even considered that as a possibility. “Gothi’s told me a bit about those,” she admitted. “Viggo said it was bad?”

Norell nodded sadly. “They generally are, though, from the way Viggo was acting, I wonder if this one was worse than normal…or perhaps it’s worse because we were unaware of it for so long that it reached a point it normally does not.”

“Is there anything I can do to help,” Ruff inquired, wanting to be able to assist in relieving her friend’s suffering, even if it was just by getting Gothi.

“Not right now, but thank you,” Norell replied, smiling at her softly. “Viggo and Heddi are quite practiced in dealing with this, not that we all haven’t lent a hand here and there,” she clarified, “but they are the ones that Ville finds the most comfort in. Well, them and Toothless.”

Ruffnut nodded understandingly and, at a loss for what to do, she found herself wandering aimlessly, her feet subconsciously taking her towards the room she had been assigned to share with Gothi. She could hear the old lady snores from here, but that was not what caught her attention the most. It was the muffled shouts and whimpers that were coming from the room that must belong to Ville.

She leaned against the wall of the corridor and sunk to the floor, wondering how she had missed that before, and wishing there was something she could do to help. After all, she was training to be a healer and Ville was her friend. It was only natural that she wanted to help and alleviate his suffering.

Heddi came down the corridor at that moment carrying a steaming mug of tea, willow bark if Ruff didn’t miss her guess, and shot her a commiserating smile before entering Ville’s room, shutting the door behind her.

As much as Ruffnut wanted to help, she realized there was nothing she could do out here, and Ville’s family was already helping him in the best way they could. She reluctantly pushed herself to her feet and made her way to where the dragons generally stayed, not feeling in the mood for human companionship.

By the time dinner rolled around, she had been able to put things into perspective and realized that maybe her reaction was due to the fact that she was starting to care for Ville more than she realized. Therefore, she was incredibly relieved when Heddi joined them after they had eaten to report that Ville was doing a bit better, though it had taken a lot out of him.

With that thought in mind, Ruff was able to fall asleep that night, but much to her disappointment, there was still no sign of Ville at breakfast. When she asked Norell if she had missed him, she was told that the day after a particularly bad episode, Vilhehn was wont to take it easy and would probably remain in his quarters until tomorrow.

While Ruffnut could understand, she wasn’t exactly thrilled with that answer and found herself back in the corridor where their rooms were after she had eaten. She was delighted to note that Ville’s door was cracked open and she hastily made her way over to see how he was doing.

She knocked lightly and stuck her head in, pleased to see that while Ville looked tired, he had a smile on his face. “Are you feeling better,” she asked.

A slight blush crept across his face as he reached up to awkwardly rub his neck. “Oh, yeah,” he sheepishly admitted. “Sorry, not one of the most glamorous parts about losing your leg.”

She assured him that she didn’t mind before hesitantly saying, “I never did ask, but rumor has it you lost it fighting a dragon the size of a mountain. Is that true, or…?”

“Well, technically,” he conceded waving her over to a stool that had been placed by his bunk. “The dragon I was fighting was that large, but when she exploded-”

“Exploded,” Ruffnut exclaimed, almost missing the stool as she sat down.

“Yeah, well, it was the only way to get rid of her,” he justified. “Anyway, when that happened, my leg was impaled. Whether it was a piece of bone or one of her teeth, we don’t know, but it caused too much damage and my leg couldn’t be saved. So, I didn't lose my leg during the battle, but it was because of it.”

Ruffnut was in shock about how much the stories left out, though she could see why this wasn't common knowledge. Now that she knew Ville was Hiccup, though, she thought back over the details she had heard, belatedly realizing that it had been a few years since that tale began making the rounds, causing her to wonder aloud, “How old were you?”

“Fifteen,” he responded, leaving Ruffnut at a loss for words.

To have done all that, at such a young age… “You must have been unspeakably brave,” she observed softly, looking at her friend in a new light.

“I didn’t feel like it,” he confessed, a troubled expression on his face as he stared into a random corner of his room. “It was honestly pretty scary. But if we didn’t kill her, who knows what kind of damage she would have caused all throughout the archipelago.”

“We?”

“Toothless and I,” Ville clarified, his gaze returning to her. “Though my brothers and Dagur were there as well and an invaluable help.”

“I think it was Dagur that we heard the story from,” Ruffnut recalled, “so I suppose that would make sense.”

Ville rolled his eyes. “He has the tendency to exaggerate, so I wouldn’t believe everything you were told, but at the same time, his account is probably the most accurate one circulating.”

Ruff grinned and nodded before gesturing to his leg which was tucked under his furs. “Do you get these phantom pains often?”

“They lessened after the first year or so,” he shared, “and it’s been…” He trailed off for a moment, trying to calculate how long it had been, finally settling with saying, “-months since I’ve had one. But with returning to Berk and our less than stellar treatment, well…” He shrugged. “I was pretty stressed and I guess my body had to deal with it some way.”

“Is there anything I can do,” Ruffnut asked, still feeling the need to help in some way. “Or something I can get you?”

“You could keep me company for a bit,” Ville suggested. “I wonder, have you ever played Maces and Talons?”

Ruff tilted her head. “No, what’s that?”

Ville directed her to open a drawer under his bunk and remove a wooden box that turned out to be the game board. Once she had set it on his bunk, he lifted the lid and proceeded to set up the pieces while explaining the game to her. It seemed simple enough, but she soon discovered that was not the case when she quickly lost.

"How did you do that," she exclaimed incredulously.

"Years of practice," he grinned. "Want to go again? I can give you some tips as we go."

She smiled at him. "I'd like that."

And thus they spent a pleasant morning in each other's company.

Chapter Text

After spending the morning with Ville, Ruffnut joined the others for lunch. She was quickly becoming attached to this tight-knit family, wishing that her own had been the same. Her melancholy thoughts were not allowed to linger, though, as Elisabet, who was sitting next to her at the table, spoke. 

“Your braids are very pretty,” the little girl commented somewhat shyly.

Ruff grinned at her, “Why, thank you.”

Elisabet seemed to hesitate a moment before softly asking, “Could you do my hair like that?”

“I would love to,” Ruffnut replied, “but I’m afraid your hair needs to be a lot longer for these braids.”

“Oh,” Elisabet murmured as her shoulders dropped, clearly disappointed.

“I do know another style that I think you might like, though,” Ruffnut offered, noting how the little girl seemed to perk up at that. “Would you like me to do that one instead?”

Elisabet nodded eagerly, seemingly having forgotten about her lunch.

“Okay, let’s finish eating first,” Ruff proposed, tapping the girl’s plate, “and then I’ll do it for you, alright?”

“Okay,” Elisabet responded happily, returning to her meal though she couldn’t seem to manage to sit still due to her excitement.

Ruffnut bit back a smile and finished her own food as quickly as she could so as not to keep the little girl waiting.

It didn’t take long for her to do a simple four-strand braid. It was similar to what Elisabet had already been wearing but different enough that it thoroughly delighted the young girl. She showed it off to her mother before running off to show her dad as well.

“Thank you for humoring her,” Heddi remarked, coming to sit by her.

“It’s no problem,” Ruff said, waving off her thanks. “I’ve always liked kids, and she seems really sweet.”

“I assure you, your attention means the world to her,” Heddi shared. “She loves her brother and her cousins and enjoys spending time with them, but there is an age difference and she’s reaching that point where she wants to be recognized for herself.” She shot Ruffnut a grin and added, “You’ll have to show me how you did that braid as I’m sure she’ll be requesting it frequently from now on.”

“I’d be glad to,” Ruff agreed.

-o0o-

Ruff looked up from the shirt she was sewing the next morning to see Ville entering the common room on Toothless’ back. “Are you sure you should be up?”

“I’m not exactly on my feet, now am I,” he reasoned, gesturing to his current situation, sans prosthetic.

Norell eyed him with one eyebrow delicately arched. “You didn’t bring your crutches?”

“Didn’t plan on needing them,” he shrugged, to which his sister-in-law rolled her eyes.

“Learn from this lesson, will you,” she requested.

Ville begrudgingly agreed and carefully maneuvered himself off of Toothless and onto a seat beside them as the Night Fury practically galloped out of the room. Ruffnut assumed the dragon was going fishing as, from what she had heard, he had refused to leave Ville’s side since his phantom pains hit.

“So how was the rest of yesterday,” Ville asked her.

“It was good,” she answered. “Spent some time with your sisters and the kids.”

He opened his mouth to say something but before he could get any words out, Immi came running over and tugged at his sleeve. “Ville, come play with us!”

He smiled at his niece and gently tugged one of her braids, saying, “Depends on what you’re playing, sweetheart. I can’t do too much right now,” he revealed, gesturing to his leg and its lack of prosthetic.

“Oh,” Immi breathed, her eyes going wide.

Niko joined them and said, “We could play ‘Dragon! Dragon!’”

“Do you know where the cards are,” Ville queried, to which the little boy nodded enthusiastically. “Go and get them, then.”

Niko sped off and Ruffnut noted the thoughtful look on Ville’s face. Realizing he was trying to figure out the best way to get over to where the children had gathered, she stood up and held out her hands. “Here, let me,” she offered.

He smiled at her gratefully and let her assist him to his foot. She quickly slipped an arm around his waist while he steadied himself by wrapping an arm around her shoulder. Ruffnut tried to ignore her racing heart at his nearness as she helped him hop over to the kids and settle on the floor.

She was about to return to her sewing when Elisabet asked, “Do you want to play with us, Ruffnut?”

“I would love to,” she replied, taking a seat with them, “but I’m afraid I’ve never heard of this game before.”

“Why don’t you explain it to her, Lissa,” Ville suggested.

The almost-eight-year-old sat a little taller at being given such an important assignment. Her brother passed her the deck and she spread it out on the floor, face-up. “The cards have different dragons on them,” she said, showing Ruff the different species, “and the goal is to get five of the same dragon, but you don’t want to get stuck with this one, the Red Death.” She held up a card with a particularly ugly dragon on it.

“She looks rather nasty,” Ruffnut commented.

“She is,” Elisabet agreed, “but we don’t have to worry about her because Uncle Ville killed her.” That caught Ruff’s attention, but she wasn’t given time to think further about it as Elisabet continued. “So, everybody gets cards and then you have to start trading them with each other,” the little girl stated. “You call out how many cards you want to trade and if someone else has the same number, then you can trade with them or you can trade less cards with someone else. Whoever gets five of the same dragon first wins, and the person with the Red Death has to sit out the next round,” she finished as she began mixing the cards up before putting them back in their stack and attempting to shuffle them properly, though it appeared she hadn’t quite mastered that skill yet.

Ville leaned over and whispered, “Was that clear enough or do you have any questions?”

“I think I got it,” she responded, keeping her voice low as well. “It’s an interesting idea. Is it a common game around the Stormhearts?”

“Uh, well, it is now,” Ville admitted, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. At her questioning glance, he explained further. “When I lost my leg, I was laid up for quite a while. The littles wanted to keep me company, but we quickly ran out of games we could play together that would keep them entertained, so I made these cards.”

“Ah, that would explain why the dragons look so familiar,” she observed.

He shrugged self-consciously. “Well, it made it easier for them as they know the dragons in our family quite well,” he acknowledged. “I could play matching games with Niko and the twins, since they were still quite little at the time, and then I came up with ‘Dragon! Dragon!’ for Lissa, though we always had to rope at least one more person in to play with us.” He grinned and added, “It’s a lot more fun with a larger group. It can get kind of loud, though.”

“I’m sure I can handle it,” she said, smiling back at him as she picked up the cards Elisabet had dealt her.

There was silence as everyone sorted their cards, though it soon ended when Ville inquired if everyone was ready.

The children had barely nodded before they started shouting all manner of numbers.

“Four! Four!”

“Two!”

“Three!”

“I’ll trade three!”

Ruffnut hastened to get in on the action, unfortunately getting the Red Death on her third trade. She was able to pawn it off on Ville though, much to his disgruntlement. After a few more trades, she had four cards with Sulka on them and only needed one more, but then Elisabet slammed her cards down, revealing a set of five Rynnätäs.

“Dragon! Dragon! Who has the dragon,” Elisabet asked, apparently signaling that the game was over.

Ville shook his head next to her and set his cards down, revealing that he had gotten stuck with the dreaded Red Death card. “I swear, I can never get away from this thing,” he smiled wryly.

“Defeated at your own game,” Ruffnut commented playfully.

“Regularly,” he said drily. “But next time I will prevail,” he proclaimed, leaning over and pulling Ansa into his lap, “as long as this one doesn’t pass me the Red Death at the last minute again.” He began to tickle the little girl who giggled merrily.

“I didn’t know Lissa was gonna win, Uncle Ville,” Ansa declared adamantly.

Ville stopped his tickling and hugged his niece. “I know, sweetie. You just have to try and win this next round for me, okay?”

She bobbed her head and scrambled off his lap, moving back to her spot and picking up her new stack of cards.

The next round quickly took off, and if Ruff lost, it had nothing to do with the fact that she had been slightly distracted by how sweet Ville was with his nephew and nieces. Nothing at all.

Chapter Text

Ville walked into the common room the next day only to stop short as he was greeted by an unexpected sight. Ruffnut was sitting there with her braids undone, his nieces almost buried under her hair.

When she noticed him standing there, she grinned. “Hello.”

“Hi, uh…” he trailed off, gesturing awkwardly toward their arrangement.

She must have sensed his confusion as she explained, “I was just letting the girls fix my hair.”

That made sense, but though Ville’s nieces were gentle, Ruffnut had so much hair. He was afraid the girls would only make a mess of it. Something of his thoughts must have shown on his face as Ruff waved off his concern.

“Don’t worry,” she told him. “Your sisters already warned me of potential consequences, but it makes the girls happy and gives them something to do. Plus, it's an opportunity for me to get to know them better.”

“As long as you’re all enjoying yourselves,” Ville replied, sitting at the table and pulling out his journal, though he found his eyes inexorably drawn to the other end of the room. There was just something about the way Ruffnut was interacting with his nieces that made it impossible to look away. Or perhaps it was her hair… That thick, silky curtain of hair she practically disappeared under. His throat went dry as he imagined himself running his fingers through it as his nieces were currently doing, but he quickly shook that thought from his mind, attempting to work on his schematics as he had planned.

He was not very successful, though, and wound up surreptitiously watching Ruffnut while doing nothing more than sketching in his journal. Eventually, he found himself distracted from the sweet torment as Toothless came bounding in.

“Ville, I found some help,” the Night Fury declared excitedly.

“That’s great, bud,” he responded. “Who is it?”

“A pack of wild Scauldrons,” Toothless revealed. “They’ve heard of you and said if you come to meet them, they’ll give us a tow part of the way home.”

“That would be convenient,” he admitted. “Tell them I’ll be there in just a moment.”

Toothless nodded and scampered off as Ville shut his journal, blushing slightly when he realized that all his drawings had wound up being of Ruffnut. Speaking of the Berkian, when he looked up, he discovered that she was staring at him with her jaw hanging open.

She eventually found her voice but she was not very coherent. “I- You-”

And then Ville realized she had never heard him speak the dragon’s tongue. Before he had a chance to explain, though, Immi came running over to him and tugged on his sleeve.

“What did Toothless say, Uncle Ville,” she inquired, staring up at him with her big brown eyes.

“He found some friends to help us get home faster,” he shared, smiling at his niece. “Would you like that?”

Immi nodded emphatically and he had to hold back a chuckle.

Tapping his chin playfully, he asked, “Do you think we should go and meet them?”

“Yes,” Immi exclaimed, which was quickly echoed by her twin.

Elisabet also agreed, albeit in a slightly less exuberant manner, though Ville could tell she was just as excited as her cousins.

Turning to Ruffnut, he invited her to join them. It wasn’t an explanation for what she had just witnessed, but that would have to wait until they were not surrounded by his nieces and could have an uninterrupted conversation. But for now, he hoped it might make up a little for the fact that he had left out a fairly significant aspect of who he was.

Ruff was not about to just let the topic drop completely, though. “I- You can speak to the dragons?”

“I can,” he acknowledged.

“Uncle Ville is special,” Ansa chimed in proudly.

Ville smiled fondly at his niece and shook his head. “I don’t know about that.”

“It’s true,” Lissa proclaimed. “After all, no one else can talk to the dragons.”

He shrugged as Elisabet did technically have a point, but wanting to get back to their original conversation, he glanced at Ruffnut and said, “Anyway, do you want to come?”

“I would like to, but I can’t exactly go on deck looking like this,” she replied, holding up a chunk of her hair that was half braided, and not very neatly at that.

“We can wait for you,” Ville offered, resulting in a chorus of groans from his nieces who were not thrilled about the delay. It was an exercise in self-control for him not to laugh, made even harder when he met Ruffnut’s gaze to find her in a similar state.

She broke eye contact first, ducking her head and hiding behind a curtain of hair as she began undoing the multiple braids that had been made. “Elisabet, do you know where my comb is?

“It’s right here,” the young girl stated as she passed it to her.

“Thank you.” The comb practically flew through Ruffnut’s hair as she said, “Just give me a minute.”

The blonde set the comb aside and hastily set about containing her hair in a simple braid. Ville was mesmerized by the speed her fingers were moving and he was not the only one.

“You braid so fast,” Lissa remarked in awe.

“The result of lots of practice, kiddo,” Ruffnut shared with a grin as she tied off the end with a strip of leather. “You’ll be just as fast one day.” She reached over and gave Elisabet’s braid a light tug in much the same way Ville would before getting to her feet and swinging her braid over her shoulder, it hanging much longer than her normal ones did.

She declared herself presentable enough and the small group made their way to the dock.

Ville paused just short of the railing to let his brother know what was going on. “Toothless found some wild Scauldrons willing to help tow the ship.”

“I gathered,” Ryker nodded brusquely. “We were just getting the lines secured.” His gaze traveled past Vilhehn as he called out, “Watch it, Immi.”

Ville rushed over and grabbed his niece’s hand before she could climb on top of the railing. She was definitely the wildest of the bunch, though they could all use a warning. “Careful girls,” he cautioned them. “Don’t lean too far.”

Once he was sure that his nieces were not in danger of going overboard, he roared a friendly greeting.

It was but a moment before a Scauldron popped its head out of the water, swimming nearer and carefully climbing up the side of the ship, eyeing him curiously. “You are the Dragon Master?”

“I am known by that title,” he admitted, “but please, call me Ville.”

She bobbed her head. “We are honored to meet you and would be happy to aid you on your journey.”

“That would be very much appreciated, but it is not necessary,” he assured, not wanting the dragons to feel like they had to help.

“We would be pleased to assist you,” the Scauldron insisted.

“Then I must thank you,” he remarked. Immi began tugging his hand and he could see that all his nieces and Ruffnut were staring at the magnificent dragon in awe. He smiled and added, “I do believe my nestmates are taken with your coloring, as am I. May I ask what your name is?”

“Mea,” the rainbow-colored dragon revealed.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” Ville responded, bowing slightly. “If it is not too much of an imposition, I think my little nestmates would like to greet you properly. If you are not comfortable with that, though, they will understand.”

The Scauldron’s gaze swept over them before she lowered her head so that it was within reach of the deck. “I would not object.”

“Mea said she would not mind meeting you,” he informed the girls, much to their apparent excitement. “Now, remember what I told you. Hold out your hand like this,” he demonstrated, “and no sudden moves.”

He grabbed Ruffnut’s hand and pulled her forward to great Mea as well, taking great delight in the look of awe on her face.

Mea remained for but a short time before returning to the ocean. The lines were then dropped and the ship surged forward as the Scauldrons took hold, some of them pulling while the others frolicked alongside the ship. Though Ville much preferred an aerial dance, especially if he was part of it, this was still a sight to behold.

His nieces had gone running off after a few minutes, Ansa and Immi to their father while Elisabet went to get Niko, presumable so they could all play a game on the deck. That gave Ville a few minutes, though, with just him and Ruffnut.

“It’s pretty amazing, huh,” he observed, nodding to the aquatic acrobatics happening in front of them.

“I’ve never seen anything like it,” Ruffnut commented, watching a little longer before she turned to him. “So, you can talk with dragons?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spring it on you like that,” he apologized. “It’s not something that’s commonly known outside of our tribe, though Chief Oswald and Dagur are aware, but that’s pretty much it.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want to say anything when we were still on Berk and then when we left-”

“It’s okay,” she reassured him, laying a hand on his arm and grinning. “I actually think it’s pretty cool. So, what are they saying right now,” she queried, gesturing to the pack of Scauldrons who would appear to most to be singing.

“They’re just relaying information about the current to one another,” Ville divulged, “and talking of trading off soon. Nothing special, but it does sound beautiful, doesn’t it?”

But before Ruffnut could respond, the children were back, begging them to come and play with them. Ville could never say no to his nephew and nieces, so they were soon running about the deck in a game of chase. He had to admit, though, that the best part was watching Toothless chase Ruffnut. It seemed the Night Fury was fascinated by the way her lengthy braid swung when she ran, constantly trying to get close enough to bat at it, much to her amusement. She was laughing so hard that she eventually had to stop running, much to Toothless’ disappointment, but the Night Fury did not give up, nudging her to get her going again, though that only made her laugh harder.

It warmed Ville’s heart to see her getting along so well with the people and dragons that were so dear to him and gave him much hope for what the future could possibly contain.

Chapter Text

As the ship pulled into the dock, Ruffnut eagerly looked around. Of course, she couldn’t see much as the sun had set two hours ago, but still, she was able to discern the shapes of a few buildings. She expected more considering how large she had been told the Stormhearts were, but perhaps she was missing something.

Ville came to stand by her side and she turned to him, saying, “So, this is where you grew up, huh?”

“Sure is,” he grinned. “I wish we had arrived when it was still light out so you could see it better, but, yeah…it’s pretty great.” Toothless came bounding over and he mounted his dragon, gesturing for her to join him. “Hop on and I’ll give you a ride to our house. The village is fairly far from the docks.”

“Why is that,” she inquired as she slipped onto Toothless and wrapped her arms around Ville, only so she wouldn’t fall off. At least, that’s what she told herself to try and calm her racing heart.

“The Stormhearts used to be dragon hunters,” Ville explained as they flew over the island, the light from a village now apparent in the distance. “At the time, keeping the dragons separate was a priority and they were kept closer to the docks to make transport easier. Needless to say, though, things have changed. Not everyone here has bonded with a dragon, but those that have generally let their dragons live with them, unless they’re too big. In that case, they stay in the stables with the wild dragons. They’re not forced to be there,” he hastened to add. “It’s just a place for them to retreat from the elements. Anyway, here’s the village,” he announced, as Toothless made a quick loop for her benefit before landing. “I’ll give you the full tour tomorrow.”

“Promise?”

“Of course,” he smiled, helping her off the Night Fury.

It was only then that she looked up and saw the immense size of the house they had landed in front of. Heddi and Norell landed just behind them and shepherded their children inside, causing Ruff to ask, “You all live together?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Ville nodded, gesturing for her to step inside first. “Well, technically,” he amended, adding, “Ryker and Norell have their own wing, you and Gothi will be staying with them, but we generally all come together in the evenings.”

The main room was big enough to hold all the family and most of their dragons, but Ruffnut still had her reserves. “Your house is big, but are you sure there’ll be room?”

“Most definitely,” Ville assured her. “Ryden, Norell’s brother, will be leaving on his trade route tomorrow, so his room will be empty anyway. And I’ll bunk with Niko, freeing up my room for Gobber,” he shared. “It’s just for now to give you all a chance to get settled into life on Tulva. Once you’ve found your bearings, we can go from there as to if you want your own places and where to build them.”

Ruffnut began to shake her head, “Oh, I could never afford-”

Ville gently cut her off, reasoning, “There are more than enough trees in the forest and you’ve got plenty of willing helpers in my family, but it’s all up to you.” As he guided her into the wing that was Ryker and Norell’s he said, “I’m assuming you would like to continue your training to be a healer as well?”

“It would be nice,” she admitted, not wanting to give up what she had been working so hard toward.

He nodded in acknowledgment. “I’ll introduce you to our head healer, Pilve, tomorrow. I’m sure she’d love to pick Gothi’s brain, despite the communication barrier.”

“I can translate,” Ruff offered. “I don’t mind. Is someone giving her a ride here, too, or…?”

“I’m going to return for her now,” Ville responded. “Ryker and Kuori should be along with everyone’s luggage soon enough and I’m sure Norell will be down in just a minute to show you to your room. I’ll see you in the morning?”

“Sounds like a plan,” she replied, eager to start this new chapter of her life.

-o0o-

What Ville hadn’t counted on when he offered to give Ruffnut a tour was that she was not the only one who would want one. Gobber had practically glued himself to his side and Vilhehn couldn’t shake him.

He popped over to collect Ruffnut, and since Gothi was planning on taking it easy after the long journey, Ville hastily assembled a plan, warning Ruff that Gobber would be joining them, but hopefully not for long. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to spend time with Gobber, but he had already planned out his tour for Ruffnut, and having the blacksmith along would kind of ruin things. It would all work out, though, because their first stop was the forge, somewhere Ville doubted he’d be able to pry Gobber away from if he tried.

“Elias,” he called out, greeting the man cheerfully, absentmindedly noting the look of awe on Gobber’s face as he caught sight of all the equipment.

The resident blacksmith smiled at him and clapped him on the shoulder. “Good to have you back, Ville. We’ve missed your eye for detail.”

“I’ll be in later today or tomorrow to take a look at what’s piled up,” he said, before embarking on the whole reason he had come over here first. “Right now, I wanted to introduce you to my friend, the one who taught me all those facts about smithing when I was little. Gobber, this is Elias, head blacksmith on Tulva.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet ya,” Gobber declared, shaking the other man’s hand enthusiastically. “Ye’ve done a fine job teachin’ the laddie, here. Couldn’t be prouder than if he were me own apprentice.”

“He is skilled, isn’t he,” Elias concurred.

Ville shook his head good-naturedly. “Would you two quit it? You’ll make me blush,” he proclaimed. “Anyway, Elias, I was wondering if you could show Gobber around? I don’t think we could keep him away from this place if we tried. Plus, he’s been dying to see how we create our metal.”

“I’d be glad to,” the blacksmith agreed and, as soon as they were distracted, Ville grabbed Ruffnut’s hand and pulled her from the forge, intent on making their escape while they could.

“That went well,” she grinned, her amusement clear.

“Didn’t it, though,” he smiled in relief. “So, where should we start? How about-”

“Ville!”

He bit back a sigh and turned to greet his friends. For all that he wasn’t exactly thrilled at another disruption to his plans, he was glad to see them. “Hey, guys!”

“You’re a sight for sore eyes,” Viivi commented. “When did you get back?”

“Last night,” he answered. “A few old friends joined us for the return journey and will be living here permanently. Speaking of, Ruffnut, I’d like you to meet Viivi, Taimi, and Akseli,” he introduced her, gesturing to each of his friends in turn.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she remarked.

“Likewise,” Akseli responded. “Ville giving you the tour?”

“That was the plan,” Ville stated.

“Then we won’t keep you,” Taimi said. “See you at the Great Hall for lunch?”

“Yup.”

With that, his friends wished them well with their tour and went on their way.

“They seem nice,” Ruffnut observed.

“They are,” Ville nodded. “I’m closest with Viivi and Akseli, as well as Marjetta, you’ll meet her at lunch, but there are several more teens around our age. I’ll make sure you meet them all,” he promised. “So, shall we get started?”

“I don’t know.” She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “Are there going to be more interruptions?”

“Undoubtedly,” he replied wryly, “but we’ll make the best of it. Ready?” He held out his hand and she happily clasped it, entwining their fingers.

“Sure.”

Chapter Text

Ville’s tour with Ruffnut had gone quite well in his opinion, ending with them meeting the others at the Great Hall for lunch. Conversation flowed freely and Ville’s friends accepted Ruffnut just as quickly as they did him all those years ago.

There was quite a variety of personalities in their group, but for the most part, they balanced each other out. Viivi’s boldness was countered by Carin and Ebba’s reserve, while Edvin was well-informed and Hugo was brave. Klaus was always willing to help out, as were Taimi and Seela, and Marja was definitely the sweetest. Akseli kept order amongst them all, which mostly consisted of reigning in Viivi when she went a little too far, much to her continued disgruntlement.

And that was the reason Ville thought that Ruffnut would hit it off quite well with Viivi, what with their similar temperaments. Seela was another one he could see her becoming friends with as she was also a healer’s apprentice.

As his gaze swept over his friends, though, his eyes landed on Marja, noting that she was awfully quiet, even for her. She seemed to be doing nothing more than staring at her plate and pushing her food around, which wasn’t like her at all.

He leaned toward Viivi who was sitting next to him and, knowing the two girls were close, he asked if she knew what was going on with Marja.

“I have my suspicions, but it’s not my place to say,” she replied cryptically, before turning the conversation. “So, you and Ruffnut, huh?”

Ville looked at her in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“You were walking through the village holding her hand,” she noted, looking at him knowingly.

“So?”

“You’ve never done that with a girl before,” she pointed out, shrugging slightly. “It implies a certain understanding.”

“Oh, well…” He trailed off, waving his hand awkwardly as he wasn’t really sure what to say.

“She’s different,” Viivi observed, glancing toward Ruffnut who was sitting on his other side. “A little rough around the edges, but nice,” she declared. The corners of her mouth twitching, she added, “Edvin has noticed, too.”

That caught his attention and his gaze darted toward his friend, “What do you mean?”

“Look at him,” Viivi suggested, nodding toward the enthusiastic conversation that was taking place. “If you want to make a claim on her, you’d better do it soon.”

“I-” Ville stopped short, thinking that was what he wanted to do eventually, but… “Shouldn’t I give her a bit of time to settle in, first?”

“I don’t think she’d mind,” Viivi remarked. “She seems to be the kind who would appreciate a prospective suitor not beating around the bush.”

Her words left Ville slightly distracted for the rest of the day, though he did his best to hide it. He was not as successful as he thought, though, as was made apparent when his brother quickly and thoroughly trounced him in a game of Maces and Talons after dinner.

“Something on your mind, Ville,” Viggo inquired.

He shot a quick glance to the other side of the room, ensuring Ruffnut was fully occupied in her conversation with Norell, Heddi, and Gothi, before softly saying, “How did you know Heddi was the one?”

His brother quirked an eyebrow. “You mean, other than the both of you telling me?”

“Well, yeah, but… Wait, what?!” He stared at his brother in shock, causing Viggo to chuckle.

“You were not exactly subtle, Ville,” he claimed, fingering one of the hunters he had stolen from his brother to win the game. “Heddi realized what you were doing and made it quite plain to me that she would not object.”

Vilhehn could feel a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Oh…sorry.”

“It took some time for me to come to terms with it since it was thrust upon me so suddenly,” Viggo shared, a tinge of amusement in his voice, “but it all worked out well in the end. Now, as for your question, I am assuming this pertains to Ruffnut?”

He nodded.

“You do realize that is what courting is for, correct?”

Ville scrunched up his nose. “I know, but she’s had so many changes in her life these past weeks. I just felt like I should give her a chance to settle in before I said anything,” he explained.

Viggo looked at him contemplatively before saying, “Then why are you considering speaking sooner?

“It was something Viivi said,” he mumbled.

“And that was…?”

“She noticed that I was interested in Ruff,” he divulged, “and pointed out that I wasn’t the only one.”

Viggo’s eyebrows shot up. “Already? Who?”

“Edvin,” Ville revealed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I don’t blame him, obviously, but…” He trailed off and sighed, leaning on the table and resting a chin on his hand as he looked to his brother for guidance.

“But you are now wondering if it would be in your best interests to stake your claim,” Viggo supplied, finishing his unspoken sentence.

“Exactly,” he confirmed.

His brother steepled his fingers, bringing them up to his lips. “That is not something that I can decide for you,” he stated, “but I do not think you need to rush into anything. Edvin is not one to make rash decisions and will take his time in making a formal proposal to Ruffnut if that is where his interests truly lie. Unless you are worried that she might be swayed by his attention?”

“I- I don’t think so,” he stammered, his gaze drifting toward the subject of their conversation. He was pretty sure Ruffnut felt the same way about him, but what if he was wrong?

“Then do not base your decision on Edvin’s interest,” Viggo recommended, pulling him from his thoughts. “At the same time, I will state that Ruffnut does seem to be adapting quite well.”

“She is,” Ville agreed, nodding slowly, “but it has only been one day.”

“That is true,” Viggo conceded, “but she appears to be throwing herself into this new life with abandon.” He paused before continuing. “I do believe she had already accepted the changes before we left Berk, so one more change may not make a difference to her, but that is only something she could decide.”

Ville tilted his head. “What are you saying?”

“If you do not want to postpone, then make your offer to her, explaining that you are more than willing to wait, if that is what she would prefer,” his brother proposed.

He supposed Viggo had a point, and Viivi was right that Ruffnut preferred people to be straightforward, so maybe…

“There is no need to make a decision right now,” Viggo advised. “Perhaps give it a day or two and let yourself think about it before embarking on your chosen course of action.”

“You’re right,” he acknowledged. “It’s not something that should be rushed into. I’ll give it some thought.”

“And if she is the one, then she will not be going anywhere in the meantime,” his brother assured him before resetting their game.

Chapter Text

“You don’t have to come with us, Norell,” Ruffnut assured their host while trying to rush Gothi out the door, which did not go over very well. Rubbing her head where her mentor had landed a solid whack, she added, “Ville took me to the Healers’ Hut yesterday, so I know where it is and they’re already expecting us.”

“I don’t mind,” Norell claimed, stepping outside beside them. “Unlike the others, I don’t have piles of work waiting for my return,” she revealed. “I’m sure Heddi will have something for me in a day or two, but with the twins spending the day with her and Niko at the Archives, I have nothing to do. At least this will give me something to fill a part of my day.”

Ruffnut shrugged. “Suit yourself.” As Norell was here to keep them on track, she let her gaze drift to the sky, marveling at all the dragons calmly flying around. It was so different from what she had known her whole life, but she found that she quite liked it. There was a flicker of black scales zipping through the assorted dragons and she couldn’t help but wonder if Ville was up there with Toothless. It was fairly likely, she surmised, as the two always seemed to be near one another. She just hoped the flight was helping to clear his mind of whatever it was that had been weighing him down the night before.

She was unable to let her thoughts linger on that subject for long as they arrived at the Healers’ Hut. Ville had brought her here yesterday to meet Pilve, the head healer, but they hadn’t stayed long enough for her to really see anything. It worked out though, as once Gothi had been introduced, Pilve took the both of them around, explaining how the healers were on a rotation, with one always being available and an apprentice on hand to assist them.

As they were shown where all the equipment was and how the herbs and tinctures were stored, Ruff couldn’t help but think that this would be so much nicer than working in Gothi’s cramped little hut. There was actually room to move around here and plenty of light, not to mention the fact that more than one patient could be accommodated at a time, which she was sure must come in handy, seeing as how Tulva was so much larger than Berk.

With the tour complete, Pilve turned to Gothi and asked if she would prefer to be an active healer or serve in an advisory role.

The elderly lady declared her intention to retire, which came as a surprise to Ruffnut. It made sense, though, seeing as how the old bat was…well…old. It made Ruffnut wonder why Gothi had not taken on an apprentice before now and if everything would have fallen on her own shoulders as soon as she had gained sufficient knowledge. It didn’t matter now, though, as things had changed.

Despite Gothi’s decision, Pilve still had many questions for her. Ruffnut translated her mentor’s responses, only messing up twice, but the old lady’s runes were not the easiest to read, so it wasn’t wholly her fault. There was some good information in there on healing and the most effective herbs, but it was rather dry, especially as there wasn’t anyone to practice all this stuff on.

Though Ruff had volunteered to serve as an interpreter, she was now regretting her decision. It was with a barely concealed sigh of relief that she was eventually released from her translating duties and told to go and assist Seela.

“Hey,” she greeted the other girl as she walked over.

“Hey yourself,” Seela responded with a grin, passing her some bandages to roll. “So, did Pilve let you know which rotation you’ll be on?”

“Not yet,” Ruff replied, her fingers moving deftly. “I think she wants to see how well I work with the different healers and then go from there.”

Seela nodded. “It was the same when I began my apprenticeship,” she shared. “I’m the youngest one here by several years, so it’ll be nice to have someone my own age around. It would be even better if we got to work together.”

“That would be cool,” Ruff agreed, wondering if Pilve would allow it. She liked Ville’s family a lot, but it would be nice to have a friend outside of them and Seela seemed like she might be willing to fill that role, considering she was hoping they could work together and all.

“So, tell me about your mentor,” the other girl requested, glancing briefly at the wizened old lady.

“Gothi’s very knowledgeable due to all the years she’s been practicing, but she is a little heavy-handed with that staff of hers,” she observed wryly, “so I won’t exactly regret her retiring. She doesn’t have any patience for those who don’t respect her or are a nuisance, but somehow, I feel like that won’t really be a problem in Tulva.” Looking around the Healing Hut, Ruffnut said, “I think I’m going to like it here. And I’m looking forward to learning more. Your tribe seems much better prepared for any circumstance that may crop up, so I’m sure there will be different techniques for me to learn.”

“Healing is the same no matter where you do it,” Seela stated wisely. “And there’s a reason for all this,” she said, gesturing to the spacious layout. “Our tribe is quite large, therefore there will be more people who are sick or injured. I heard that back when we sold dragons, this place would be a lot more full due to injuries on the job. Nowadays, though, it’s pretty quiet.”

“I mean, riding dragons seems a lot more fun than selling them,” Ruffnut pointed out.

“It is,” Seela smiled. “I’m assuming Ville has already taken you up?”

“He has,” she nodded happily. “It’s pretty amazing.”

Seela laughed. “You must have an iron stomach, then.” At Ruffnut’s questioning gaze, she clarified her statement, saying, “Toothless is one of the fastest and wildest fliers around and Ville is a bit of a daredevil himself. There are no holds barred with those two.”

Ruffnut grinned. “Isn’t that part of the thrill though?”

The other girl hummed noncommittally and shrugged. “To each his own, I guess.”

“Do you not have a dragon,” Ruffnut inquired curiously before realizing that may not have been the best way to ask. “Sorry,” she hastily apologized. “I just assumed because of your stance on flying and I know Ville said not everyone had a dragon, but-”

“No, it’s fine,” Seela cut her off, but not at all in a mean way. It was more reassuring than anything else. “I am actually bonded to a dragon, but she’s from the Tidal Class, so flights are not really an option.”

Ruff tilted her head. “So, like a Thunderdrum or a Scauldron,” she queried, those being the only Tidal Class dragons she knew of.

“Meren is a Tide Glider,” Seela disclosed.

“A what?”

“A large, graceful, aquatic dragon who prefers to inhabit shallower waters,” she clarified. “She’s a decent size, but not quite as big as a Scauldron. I’ll have to introduce her to you, though if you’re walking along the beaches on the northern end of the island, you might catch a glimpse of her, but she’s normally pretty skittish unless I’m there…or Ville.”

“Ville,” Ruffnut asked in surprise.

“All the dragons love him,” Seela explained.

That made sense, especially as she recalled Ryker mentioning how the dragons followed Ville around the village, which, to a small extent, she got to witness yesterday. “I’ve already seen evidence of that,” she shook her head in amusement before getting back to their current topic. “So, is there anything special about Tide Gliders?”

“They have healing saliva,” Seela divulged. “That is probably their most unique trait. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work for all injuries, but it does wonders with healing wounds, both human and dragon.”

“Hmm, who would have thought,” Ruffnut murmured. “Even the dragons have healers.”

Seela smiled and replied, “I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

Chapter Text

It had been two days since Ville had talked with Viggo and, seeing that Ruffnut seemed to be settling in well, he decided to take his brother’s advice and make his offer, letting her decide if now was the time or not. The first step was getting her away from his family and he already had a plan.

“Hey, Ruff? I was wondering if you’d like to go on a sunset flight with me,” he asked, fighting the blush he could feel creeping across his face as his family began to exchange knowing glances, and not very discreetly at that.

“Sounds fun,” Ruffnut commented, thankfully oblivious to the interactions going on around them as she followed him outside.

At least their swift exit had saved him from further embarrassment, he thought as he mounted Toothless, Ruffnut slipping on behind him and wrapping her arms around his waist, making his heart speed up as he realized he was actually doing this. They were rather silent once they got in the air, simply enjoying the view as Toothless calmly flew over Tulva.

As the sun had almost finished sinking below the horizon, Ruffnut snuggled closer to him and said, “This is nice.”

“It is,” he agreed, looking over his shoulder and smiling at her. “And having you here makes it even better.”

He thought there was a faint blush on her cheeks from his declaration, though it was hard to tell in the waning light.

Taking her reaction to be a positive sign, he came to the conclusion that there wasn’t going to be a better opportunity for him to press his suit. “I- I know you just moved here and all, and I don’t want to rush you into anything, but I’ve come to care for you, Ruffnut,” he admitted. “Quite a bit in fact. I was wondering if you would be interested in entering into a courtship with me?”

Ruffnut’s brow furrowed and she inquired, “Why me?”

“What do you mean,” Ville queried, regretting his decision to ask midair as it made it hard for him to see her face clearly. He directed Toothless to land as she clarified.

“You’re the brother of the Chief and the Dragon Master,” she stated emphatically. “You could have your pick of anyone. In fact, I’m sure some of the girls here would jump at the chance to court you. So, why me and not any of them?”

He helped her off Toothless, keeping one of her hands in his. “None of them make me feel the way you do,” he answered softly. “There’s something about you, Ruff… I can’t put my finger on exactly what it is, but I’m drawn to you.” Being on the ground was not proving much help as Ville was still having a hard time reading her expression. Fearing he had made a mistake in bringing this up, he hastened to add, “If I rushed this or you don’t feel the same-”

“No, I do,” she assured him, resting her free hand lightly on his chest before lowering her gaze. “I’ve just never had anyone show interest in me like this,” she admitted with a slight shrug. “I’ve always been the second choice, the less worthy option. I’m not as beautiful or strong as Astrid, and even here, while I feel like I fit in better, I still think the other girls are all prettier and smarter than me.”

Ville slipped a finger under her chin and tilted her head up so she was looking at him once again. “Those Berkians don’t know what they were missing,” he proclaimed, bringing a smile to her face. “And don’t you know that beauty is in the eye of the beholder?”

Her eyes widened at his bold statement. “Are you saying you think I’m beautiful?”

“Mmm-hmm,” he nodded solemnly, noting how his words seemed to leave her flustered, but in a good way. “So, what do you say,” he prodded gently. “Do you want to give us a chance?”

“I’d like that,” she replied, her eyes sparkling as much as the stars that were appearing above them.

Ville’s breath caught in his throat at the vision standing before him. “Good,” he murmured, leaning forward and cupping her cheek as he tenderly kissed her, the temptation being far too great.

-o0o-

As Ruffnut set about putting away the new shipment of herbs in the Healers’ Hut, she let her mind wander. The last month had brought so many changes in her life, and she couldn’t help but marvel at how each one led to something better. From taking the Grimborn’s advice to fully commit to her apprenticeship, to leaving Berk, to falling in love…

At least, that’s what she thought it was, her hand coming up to brush her lips, thinking back to that first kiss Ville had given her after she had agreed to let him court her. He had apologized profusely afterward for taking liberties, but she quickly squashed that stupid idea by pulling him in for another kiss. The dopey grin on his face when she pulled away had made it totally worth it.

They had been courting for just over a week and Ville’s thoughtfulness never ceased to amaze her. Whether it was a small posy of flowers by her breakfast, a set of pitch-black daggers made of a special metal native to the Stormhearts, or even on their sunset flights which were becoming a regular occurrence, every little action conveyed how much he cared for and valued her. For someone who was not used to such attention, it was a heady experience and one she did not think she would ever tire of.

The only downside to this whole situation was Ville’s insistence that she needed to find a dragon to bond with. It wasn’t that she didn’t want a dragon of her own, but she was in no hurry, wanting to wait for just the right one, a dragon that suited her perfectly. And until she learned more about the different species, how would she know which one would match her best?

He had begrudgingly conceded she had a point but argued that most dragons could sense those things, therefore there was no reason to worry about it. That caused her to switch tactics, employing her most persuasive argument yet, that she liked riding with him on Toothless. He shut up fairly quickly after that, but she had a feeling it wouldn’t hold for long.

Overall, everything had seemed to fall into place so perfectly, even her apprenticeship. The methods here were a little different, but not by much, and she was a quick learner when she wanted to be. She even had friends outside of Ville’s family to spend time with, which was still something she was trying to wrap her head around, having been alone for most of her life. 

She was pulled from her wandering thoughts when the door to the Healer’s Hut opened and a familiar face came in.

“Hi Marjetta,” she greeted the other girl, noting how she was attempting not to wring her hands. “How can I help you? Are you injured or-”

“I-I actually came to speak with you,” she spluttered, hesitantly adding, “If you’re not too busy, that is.”

Ruffnut hadn’t spent too much time with the other girl, so she thought it was a little strange that she was seeking her out, but she quickly brushed that thought aside in favor of a more lighthearted approach. “Oh, yeah. You can see that we’re up to our ears,” she remarked drily as she gestured toward the deserted hut, a little disappointed when it did not make Marjetta smile as she had hoped. Shrugging the lack of response off, she said, “Just give me a minute to get permission and we can step outside.”

Consent was not hard to gain and as soon as they were outside, Ruffnut asked, “So, what did you want to talk about?”

Marjetta was silent for a moment before blurting out, “Do you really care for Ville?” Her eyes widened as she realized what she had said, hastily murmuring, “I just wanted to be sure.”

“I do,” Ruffnut responded, looking at the other girl quizzically as she sensed there was a lot more here than her being concerned about a friend. “He’s quite special.”

“He is,” Marjetta smiled softly, and that was when it clicked.

“Were the two of you…?”

“No, not like that,” the Stormheart declared, blushing furiously.

Even if Ville and Marjetta hadn’t been an item, it was clear to Ruffnut that the other girl harbored feelings for him, unrequited though they seemed to be. Even if it wasn’t her fault, she couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty. “I’m sorry, Marjetta,” she apologized. “I didn’t mean to-”

“No, it’s not your fault,” the other girl assured her. “I don’t think he’s ever seen me in that way,” she confessed, expression downcast. “I had just hoped that maybe, with time…” Marjetta trailed off and sighed. “It probably wouldn’t have happened, though. Perhaps it’s for the best.” She attempted a smile that appeared more of a grimace. “At least I won’t be waiting needlessly anymore,” she reasoned before a panicked look crossed her face. “Please, don’t say anything to Ville. I’d be absolutely mortified.”

“Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me,” Ruff promised. “And I know I might not be your favorite person right now, but if you ever want to talk, I’ll be around.”

“Thank you,” Marjetta replied gratefully before hopping on her dragon and practically fleeing.

Ruff couldn’t blame the girl, but there didn’t seem to be anything she could do to help. Not right now at least. Maybe in time, Marjetta would find someone else. She just hoped it didn’t cause problems in Ville’s friend group. Ruffnut would never break her promise, but if the girl couldn’t keep it together, her secret would be revealed sooner or later.

Chapter Text

The breakfast table was anything but dull this morning and Ville couldn’t help but wonder who would come out victorious.

“But, Daddy, I’m eight years old now,” Lissa stated emphatically. “And you said when I turned eight-”

“I am aware of what I said,” Viggo declared sternly, cutting off his daughter, “but that does not mean you are ready yet.”

“Then when will I be ready,” she demanded. “When I’m as old as you?”

“Elisabet!”

Ville winced, as that last comment was a little out of line, but, at the same time, he could understand his niece’s frustration. “She does kind of have a point,” he murmured, hoping to get through to his brother and past his overprotective tendencies.

Viggo took a deep breath and tersely said, “Vilhehn, I would kindly ask you to stay out of this discussion.”

“I mean, I had Toothless when I was six,” Ville reasoned, ignoring his brother’s request, “and-”

“And we all know how well that turned out,” Viggo proclaimed, one eye twitching ever so slightly.

Ville threw up his hands in surrender. “Okay, maybe not the best example,” he conceded, “but Lissa is very responsible. She’s always helping out with Niko and the twins and she listens a lot better than I ever did-”

Heddi snorted and nodded in agreement.

“-so why can’t she have a dragon,” Ville finished, wanting his brother to state his real reason, not the excuse he’d been using.

He was bound to be disappointed, though, when Viggo maintained, “Because she is not ready.”

“That’s not an answer and you know it,” Ville countered. “Permission or not, if a dragon takes a liking to her, you’re not going to have a choice.”

Viggo’s eyes narrowed. “What are you saying, Vilhehn?”

“I’m just saying that some things are out of your hands.” He could see that his brother was softening, though there was still a hint of concern in the depths of his eyes. Deciding to press his point, he continued, “And you did decree that any Stormheart can bond with a dragon once they’re eight years old.”

“Please, Daddy,” Elisabet begged. “I promise I’ll be really careful.”

“And you know I won‘t leave her side until I’m sure she knows what she’s doing,” Ville added, hoping it would help sway his brother.

“Says the boy who jumps off his dragon for fun,” Viggo grumbled before sighing and caving. “Fine. I will allow her to visit the stables, but if this goes wrong-”

“Don’t worry so much, dear,” Heddi advised as Niko was excitedly asking his sister what kind of dragon she wanted.

“Plus,” Ville chimed in, “we practically have a healer in the family now, so-”

“Ville!” Viggo looked about ready to have a heart attack at the thought of his precious daughter being injured, resulting in Vilhehn’s hasty apology. He had only meant to reassure his brother, not imply that something horrific was about to happen, but with the way Viggo was already wound up, he should have known better than to joke about such a thing.

Having finally gained permission, Lissa was not about to wait any longer. As soon as she had finished eating, she dragged Ville toward the stables as he had promised to assist her. He was more than willing, though he felt that he would not truly be needed. Viggo joined them with a stern look on his face that Ville hoped wouldn’t scare the dragons away, or at least one dragon in particular.

He had nothing to fear though, and soon enough, the two brothers were watching Elisabet get to know the Wooly Howl that had sidled right up to her as soon as they entered.

“You knew,” Viggo inquired softly, glancing at Ville with one eyebrow raised.

“She’s had her eye on Lissa for a while,” he revealed, keeping his voice low. “I wasn’t sure how much longer I could keep her from introducing herself on her own terms.” He paused for a moment before adding, “And Lissa is eight.”

“And I still remember how wild you were at that age,” Viggo commented, looking at him knowingly.

“But Lissa is not me,” Ville pointed out, gesturing to where the little girl was calmly stroking her new friend.

“I know.” Viggo sighed, though as Elisabet giggled a slight smile appeared on his face. “I would not deny her this happiness, but as a father, I worry.”

“She’ll be fine,” Ville promised his brother. “We’ll all make sure of it, her new friend as well.”

Viggo nodded in acknowledgment, keeping a careful eye on his daughter’s interactions with the new dragon as he said, “By the way, you might want to start working on a design for the new wing of our house.”

“New wing?” Ville’s brow furrowed. “Why?”

His brother looked at him like he was a few dragons short of a flock. “I seem to recall you announcing a courtship three weeks ago.”

“Well, yes…”

“And do you see it heading to its natural conclusion,” Viggo pressed.

“Yes, but-”

“Exactly,” Viggo claimed. “We may as well build now, while the weather is good. It will allow Gothi and Ruffnut to have their own space for now and once the wedding takes place, we can move your things over.” Ville‘s expression must have shown some of his hesitance, as Viggo added, “We followed the same course of action for Ryker and Norell so I do not understand why you are so reluctant.”

“That was for them,” Ville reasoned, “not me.”

His brother just shook his head and muttered under his breath. “Oh, Ville…”

-o0o-

Later that evening when they were all gathered in the main room, Ville sat down next to his girl and draped an arm around her shoulders. “Hey, Ruff?”

“Hmm,” she murmured, nestling in close to him and almost distracting him from what he wanted to ask.

“Um, so Viggo told me to start working on plans for a new wing for when we…you know,” he said, gesturing vaguely and noting the slight blush that appeared on Ruff’s face. “Uh, so, I was wondering if there was anything you wanted me to include?”

“Just do whatever you think is best,” was her soft response.

“But is there something you would like,” he prompted, feeling like she was holding something back. “We’ll both be living there and I want you to be comfortable.”

He watched as Ruffnut debated with herself before finally requesting, “A stillroom? Just a small one?”

He leaned over and kissed her forehead. “A great idea,” he declared. “Anything else?”

“Not that I can think of,” she replied.

Ville paused for a moment, weighing his words before cautiously saying, “I was wondering, would you like Gothi to live with us? She is kind of like a grandmother and seeing as how much she helped both of us-”

Ruffnut lunged forward, planting a kiss on his lips and effectively silencing him. When she eventually pulled back, she said, “I think that’s a splendid idea.”

“Maybe I could come up with a few more,” he suggested, giving her a lopsided grin.

“Can’t guarantee, you’ll get the same response,” she tossed back with one eyebrow ached delicately, having easily perceived his intentions, “but I’m curious to see what you come up with.”

His smile grew even bigger, but as much as he wanted to stay, he had work to do. He was about to get up when Ruffnut grabbed his arm, looking at him in confusion.

“Where are you going,” she queried.

“To get started on the plans.”

“Can’t you do that here,” she entreated, batting her eyelashes at him.

While he would not object to her company, this was not a project he could complete in his journal. He would require a large piece of parchment to fill in all the finer details and specifications, thus more space was required. “Could we at least move to the table,” he proposed.

“I suppose,” Ruff pouted slightly before perking up. “Can I make suggestions as you go?”

“I would love that,” he proclaimed, stealing a quick kiss before escorting his girl to the table and going to retrieve his supplies.

Chapter Text

Ruffnut was enjoying her walk on the northern shores of Tulva. She had begun to make a habit of coming here between breakfast and starting her day as it was nice and peaceful and gave her a bit of time to herself. She didn’t mind her new life. In fact, she had come to like it quite a bit. But she wasn’t exactly used to being around people all the time. Well…that wasn’t completely true…she was used to always being with her brother, but that wasn’t something she wanted to dwell on right now. 

She was happy to have friends who wanted to spend time with her, but she had become so used to being on her own…which made her wonder if Ville had needed to adjust to the same thing when he first came here. He was actually the only one she wouldn’t have minded joining her, but he had needed to get to work at the forge. Something about getting one last shipment out before the trading season was over. It was fine, though. They would meet up for lunch and spend their evening together as well, so it was not as if she wouldn’t see him at all.

Her gaze swept out over the ocean, trying to catch a glimpse of Meren. The Tide Glider was still skittish around her, not coming close unless Seela was there, but she had at least become accustomed to the sight of Ruffnut walking along the shore. Sometimes she would even give her a little splash of acknowledgment, albeit from a respectable distance. There were no signs of her today, though Ruff kept her eyes open as she let her mind wander.

Construction had started on the new wing of the Grimborn’s house, the one she would be moving into as soon as it was finished. Every once in a while she would pinch herself just to make sure she wasn’t dreaming and this all was real. It just seemed too good to be true. But then something would happen that would help her to see that even here, life wasn’t perfect, like that conversation with Marjetta.

It had been a little over a month since they had talked and, from what Ruffnut could tell, the other girl appeared to be in better spirits. Their group of friends were all trying their best to cheer her up, making Ruff wonder how apparent her crush had been, though Ville still seemed to be oblivious, which truly was for the best. Klaus especially was paying the brunette an inordinate amount of attention, leading Ruff to speculate that Marjetta may not have been the only one with an unrequited love. She hoped it would work out for the two of them, but only time would tell.

Her thoughts came to a halt as she caught sight of a lumpy pile of white rocks ahead of her that hadn’t been there the day before. Wondering how they had gotten there, she curiously crept forward only to discover that it was not rocks at all, but rather a dragon. One that looked incredibly similar to Toothless, just white and…softer, somehow. It was as if a Night Fury had been streamlined even further.

Though Ruffnut was intrigued by the new dragon’s resemblance to Toothless, she quickly realized there were more pressing concerns, such as the muzzle and chain wrapped around its neck. And that wasn’t even mentioning the rather nasty looking gash that was peeking out from under its wing.

The dragon was breathing heavily and clearly in pain, but there wasn’t much Ruff could do without supplies. She would need to head back into the village to gather what she needed, as well as to collect Ville so he could remove the chain.

She was tempted to unclasp the muzzle herself, but she did not have Ville’s gift of speaking to dragons and did not want the Fury, for surely that is what it must be, to misinterpret her actions. While she knew most dragons could understand humans, this one had clearly been mistreated, and helping it without backup would not be a good idea. She shouldn’t be long, though, and hoped that a few extra minutes wouldn’t make much of a difference.

As she was about to step away, she paused, noticing that the dragon’s eyes had flickered open. She found herself transfixed by the piercing blue gaze, so much different from Toothless’ acidic green.

Feeling that she couldn’t just leave now, Ruff knelt in the sand, close to the dragon, but out of striking distance. “Hey there,” she spoke softly in an effort to convey that she wasn’t a threat. “Everything will be okay. I’m going to help you. I promise," she proclaimed earnestly. "I just have to get some supplies and my friend. He can take those chains off for you, but I need you to wait here, okay?” 

The dragon let out a pathetic whimper as its eyes closed and it seemed to go limp, causing Ruff’s heart to break. Throwing caution to the wind, she stepped closer and gently stroked the dragon’s head, hoping to offer some comfort. While there, she also took advantage of her position to get a better look at the Fury’s injuries, at least the ones that were somewhat visible.

“I don’t know if you could leave even if you wanted to,” she murmured to herself. “That gash looks pretty painful…” She trailed off as an idea popped into her head. She wasn’t sure if it would work, but it was worth a try.

Running to the shoreline she yelled as loud as she could. “Meren!”

Absolute silence.

“Meren, please be out there,” she tried again. “I need your help.”

That seemed to do the trick as a set of familiar horns and frills became visible through the surf, allowing Ruff to let out the breath she had subconsciously been holding. “I know you’re not comfortable around me,” she called out to the Tidal Class dragon, “but this dragon is injured,” she declared, gesturing to the Fury. “I’m going to go get Ville and some supplies. Could you please help her while I’m gone?”

There was a small splash in the water where the Tide Glider had remained mostly submerged.

“I’m going to take that as a yes,” Ruffnut commented before turning back to the injured dragon. “Meren is going to help you and I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She didn’t wait for a response, turning on her heel and running toward the village, afraid that if she didn’t leave right away, Meren might change her mind about helping…if she had agreed in the first place.

Thankfully, the trail between the beach and the village was well maintained and she made good time, heading straight for the forge as it was on her way to the Healers’ Hut. She burst in, startling more than one blacksmith as she got her suitor’s attention.

“Ville!”

His hammer missed the sword he was working on, clanging the anvil discordantly. As he spun around, he must have seen something in her troubled expression that caused him to rush forward, looking her over as he grabbed one of her hands and hastily asked, “What is it? Are you okay?”

“I am,” she replied, noting the relief that instantly passed over his face, “but I found an injured dragon on the shore. There’s a chain around its neck and I was hoping you could remove it.”

“Of course,” he responded instantly. “Let me just grab a few tools.”

“I need to get a few things from the Healers’ Hut as well,” she stated, pulling away. “I can meet you back here.”

“That bad,” he inquired, a look of concern crossing his face as he hurriedly jammed a few tools into a spare satchel that had been lying around.

“I’m afraid so,” she nodded worriedly, afraid there may be more injuries than she had seen.

Ville called out the hatch for Toothless. “It’ll be quicker if we take you. Come on,” he said, pulling her out of the forge and onto the Night Fury, racing toward the Healers’ Hut at a breakneck speed.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t long before Toothless came in to land on the beach, and Ville’s expression of concern mixed with awe was not lost on Ruffnut as he helped her from the saddle while glancing at the injured dragon.

“It looks similar to him, doesn’t it,” she said softly.

“Very much so,” he conceded before switching to the dragon’s tongue and slowly approaching the Fury, removing the muzzle from its snout.

As soon as there was a pause in their warbling, Ruffnut asked, “What did it say?”

Ville smiled at her. “She said she appreciated you sending the Tide Glider to her. Meren was around?”

“Yeah,” she nodded as she set out her supplies on a cloth nearby. “I wasn’t sure if she would come up or not, but I told her I would be leaving, so I guess that made her feel safe enough.”

“That was an excellent idea,” Ville praised her before nodding toward the long gash. “Do you need help with that, or…?”

“Just focus on the chain,” she replied. “I can take care of this.” She grabbed a clean cloth and a flask of water before pausing. “How does Tide Glider saliva work anyway? Should I clean the wound and stitch her up or…?”

“Cleaning won’t be necessary, Meren would have taken care of that,” Ville explained. “Stictching her up would probably be for the best though, especially considering the location of her injury.” He began to clip the chains and continued, “We can have Meren come back once you’re finished to give it another once over. Probably over where these chains have been rubbing, too.”

Ruffnut nodded and quietly got to work, rubbing a numbing lotion around the edges of the gash before starting to stitch it closed. Ville finished his task first and sat down near the Fury’s head, murmuring what she assumed were words of comfort.

The silence becoming a little too much for her, Ruff said, “Did you by any chance ask her what happened?”

“Dragon trappers,” Ville practically spat out, his disgust more than apparent. “She managed to break free but, while escaping, a trapper’s sword caught her across her flank.” He stroked the dragon’s face before wearily adding, “I’m just glad it wasn’t worse.”

Ruffnut’s breath caught as she realized there was more that Ville wasn’t saying. “Worse,” she queried warily.

“If she had flapped her wing it could have been sliced off,” he answered solemnly, causing her stomach to lurch.

She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the dragon’s flank, bringing her free hand up to gently stroke the Fury. “I’m glad that didn’t happen,” she whispered. Taking a deep breath, she straightened up and resumed her stitching, which was almost complete. Once she had tied off her thread, she began to collect her supplies, only to be practically pushed over as the injured dragon nuzzled her and rumbled softly. “Oh, what’s this for?”

“She’s very thankful for your help,” Ville translated, moving to sit beside her and join in lavishing the Fury with attention. “In fact, I think she’d like to stay, if you’d let her.”

Ruff’s gaze darted to her suitor, her eyes widening in surprise. “You mean…?”

He grinned and nodded. “I think you’ve found yourself a dragon,” he proclaimed, wrapping an arm around her waist as his other hand continued to scratch the dragon. “So, was it worth the wait?”

“Very much so,” she confessed, leaning into him as she stared into the icy blue eyes that were looking at her so adoringly. “We need to get her back to the village though, and I don’t know if she can fly right now. That gash is awful near her wing.”

The dragon growled and moved her wings a bit.

“She says it is pulling a little, but she’s felt worse,” Ville shared. “And she reasons that she made it here with the gash open so a little further shouldn’t be a problem.”

That reasoning did not seem entirely sound, but seeing as Ville trusted the dragon to know her own limits, Ruffnut kept quiet. She greatly regretted that decision when the Fury let out a piercing shriek on her first downstroke, collapsing back to the beach, barely conscious. 

Ruffnut and Ville rushed forward, as did Meren, who hastily began relicking the injured dragon’s wounds.

She had a feeling she knew the answer, but still asked, “What happened?”

“Too much strain,” Ville disclosed.

“That’s what I was afraid of,” Ruffnut confessed. But that brought up another question. “How did she even make it here? Especially if she’s in this much pain even after the numbing lotion and Meren’s saliva.”

“Determination to flee her captors, I’d say,” Ville surmised distractedly.

She could see that she was losing him to whatever thoughts were flickering through his mind and therefore prompted him, saying, “There are slings for carrying injured dragons, aren’t there?”

“Yes, in the stables,” he responded absentmindedly before turning to his Night Fury. After a brief conversation in the dragon’s tongue, Toothless was off, presumably to get a sling and possibly a dragon or two to lend a claw.

That expression had not left Ville’s face, though, and Ruffnut was not about to be left in the dark. “What’s with that look?”

“What look,” Ville countered innocently.

Ruffnut narrowed her eyes. “The one on your face that makes it seem as if you’re trying to solve one of the world’s greatest mysteries.”

Her suitor finally turned to face her and she could clearly see his unease. Gesturing toward the Fury, he restated what they knew. “She was captured by Dragon Trappers and close enough that, when she escaped, she made it here.”

“Oh…” Ruffnut now realized why he was so concerned, and rightly so. “Do you think we’re in danger?”

“I don’t know…” He trailed off, his gaze sweeping across the horizon. “I don’t think so, but I need to scout the area, just to be sure. We’ll get you two back to the village first and then I’ll set out.”

“Wouldn’t it be best to wait until she can tell you which direction she came from,” Ruffnut proposed, thinking that would be the logical move to make.

“Odds are it was north,” Ville presumed, “and there’s no telling how long she’ll be out of it. We need to check this now, for everyone’s safety. Plus, in her haste to escape, she may not have been paying attention to which direction she was flying.”

“Fight or flight,” she supplied.

“Exactly,” Ville concurred. “There’s no telling how clearly she was thinking, especially with all the pain she must have been in.”

At that moment, Toothless rejoined them, dropping the sling from his claws before landing beside a Rumblehorn that Ruffnut did not recognize.

The injured dragon was still not fully cognizant of her surroundings, being in a worse state now due to her aborted attempt at flying. The two of them were incredibly patient and coaxed her to crawl onto the sling that Ville had spread out, though it was a painstakingly slow process. 

Once she was settled, Ville started gathering the corners together. “Where would you like us to move her,” he inquired as he started threading on the connectors. “The house, the Healers’ Hut, the stables?”

Ruffnut hesitantly asked, “Do you think your family would object-”

Ville shook his head, instantly making her feel more at ease. “Not when she’s injured. They’ll understand,” he stated confidently. “Anyway, you were bound to bond with a dragon sooner or later, so it’s not like this will come as a surprise.”

“I guess it’s a good thing they’ve already started working on the new wing, then,” she commented lightly. “I don’t know how many more dragons could fit in your family’s house.”

“Is that a challenge,” he grinned at her with a twinkle in his eye.

She couldn’t help but laugh, glad that despite the potential threat, Ville was still able to joke around. “I don’t think your brothers would appreciate you making the attempt.”

“Pity,” he sighed dramatically, holding up the rod between the connectors so the Rumblehorn could grasp it.

The injured Fury let out a slight squeak as she was lifted into the air and Ruffnut’s heart broke a little at the thought of her pain, but it was the only way they could move her. At least Ville’s house was but a short flight away. There was still the problem of how to get her inside, though. Seeing as it was such a struggle just getting her onto the sling, they decided to settle her into the attached stable that Sulka used. It wasn’t the same as having her inside the house, but it was the best they could do for now.

They got the Fury settled as comfortably as she could be considering her injury, and then Ville was off to don his armor and scout the oceans to the north. As for Ruffnut, she remained with her new friend for the remainder of the morning and most of the afternoon, only leaving when it was time to help with dinner preparations and eat with Ville’s family. Her suitor was still absent though and she couldn’t help but be worried, just a little.

She returned to the stables after the meal and managed to ply her new friend with a few fish, which she gratefully slurped up before falling back asleep. Ruffnut was just about to head back into the house when Ville came through the passageway, still in his armor, but without his helmet.

“Did you find anything,” she inquired, though going by the look on his face she had a feeling she was not about to receive a positive answer.

“Not a trace,” he sighed, sitting down beside her and raking a hand through his hair. Nodding toward the resting dragon, he said, “How’s she doing?”

“Okay, I think.” Ruff scooted a little closer to her suitor and smiled when he automatically wrapped his arm around her waist. “She’s eaten a little, but spent most of her time sleeping.”

“I’m sure she needs it.” Shifting his gaze, he looked at her and asked, “Have you thought of a name for her?”

“I was thinking of Ský.” She paused for a moment before saying, “Do you know what species she is? I was thinking some kind of Fury, but…”

“I think you’re right,” he nodded slowly. “I’ve never seen anything like her, but the resemblance to Toothless is too much to discount. Maybe a subspecies,” he speculated. “I’m pretty sure I’ve poured over every book on dragons in the Archives, but I’ll have to take another look.”

Ruff grabbed his wrist before he could get too far and firmly said, “Not until after you eat.”

“But, Ruff-”

“Did you even take any food with you or stop to catch some fish along the way?”

The silence as he refused to reply was all the answer she needed.

“Exactly,” she proclaimed emphatically. “Heddi saved you a plate,” she shared, pulling him toward the passageway. “After you’ve eaten, then you can go research to your heart’s content, but first, food.”

“Yes, dear,” he responded meekly, but the slight smile on his face gave away his amusement. He wasn’t protesting, though, so Ruffnut was determined to count it as a win.

Chapter Text

It wasn’t until the following day that Vilhehn was able to discover that Ský had actually come from the west. He set out again, but too much time had passed and by the time he got out there, the trappers had disappeared without a trace. He would not deny that it was a little discouraging, but on the bright side, at least it meant that they weren’t heading toward Tulva.

Despite their apparent safety, defenses were further strengthened before the weather turned, though they really hadn’t stopped being improved since Seile and Sporari had escaped from Drago last year.

Between helping with that and working in the forge as well as on the new wing of their house, Ville was kept rather busy. Still, it did not escape his notice that as the days went by, Toothless was becoming increasingly moody. He had an idea of what the issue was, but he didn’t want to butt in where he didn’t belong. If Toothless needed his help or his opinion, he would ask.

That night, though, Toothless grumbles became a little too much for him to ignore, and so he sat on the Night Fury’s rock slab and began scratching him, softly inquiring, “What’s going on with you, bud?”

Toothless huffed, plopping his head into Ville’s lap. “You make courting look so easy.”

“Ah.” It was as he had thought. “Ský is giving you a hard time?”

“She hardly acknowledges me,” Toothless muttered, his tail twitching in frustration.

“She’s still getting used to us, bud,” Ville reasoned. “Give her some time.”

The Night Fury snorted. “Says the one who has females showing interest before they even know him.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just because it happened on Berk doesn’t mean it would happen elsewhere.”

Toothless looked up at him incredulously. “You seriously don’t realize?”

Ville’s brow furrowed as he tilted his head into confusion. “What?”

“The females on Tulva are all quite fond of you, too,” Toothless stated as if it were common knowledge. “The ones on Berserker Island admire you, too.”

“As for my friends, it’s only natural for us to be close,” Ville shrugged nonchalantly. “And everyone else just sees my title, that’s all.”

“Sure,” the Night Fury’s drawled skeptically. “That’s all it is.”

Ville was not quite sure what his best friend was getting at, but he decided to push it aside and focus on the more pressing concern right now. “You have to remember, bud, Ský just escaped from trappers and is recovering from a pretty bad injury. You know that I wasn’t always the most pleasant to deal with during my recoveries,” he pointed out.

“True,” Toothless conceded a little too fast for Ville’s liking.

“I wasn’t that bad,” he insisted, though the Night Fury’s glare said otherwise. Ville shook his head exasperatedly and got back on topic. “Maybe just do something nice for her, without trying to court her. Aim to be friends with her first and go from there.”

Toothless hummed in thought as Ville continued to scratch his best bud. He hoped his advice would prove helpful, especially as if it didn’t, he was sure to get an earful.

-o0o-

Be friends. Toothless supposed that would be a start. After all, Viggo and Heddi were friends before they started courting. And Ville had kind of been friends with Ruffnut in the past. Of course, Ryker and Norell were instantly attracted to each other, but almost two out of three wasn’t bad. The only flaw was he was basing his courting strategy off of humans, but they were the ones he had spent all his life with, and as there were no others of his kind around… Plus Ville would never steer him wrong. Well…not on purpose anyway. But what could he do for Ský that she would like?

After much thought, he decided to go fishing. He had found some exceptionally large cod on the south end of their nest and perhaps a couple of those would make her happy. After all, she needed to eat to regain her strength and cod were the tastiest of all fish.

He was pleased when he hit the jackpot, catching an Atlantic cod that was so big he could barely carry it in his mouth. He didn’t dare try to transfer it to his paws, though, as he was afraid he might drop it. He flew back home as quickly as he could and was pleased to find Ský in the main room instead of in Sulka’s stable. If she was willingly spending time among Ville’s family after their evening meal, then that was bound to mean she was in a better mood.

Toothless dropped the fish at her paws and nudged it toward her, a hopeful look on his face.

Ský looked back and forth between him and the fish, cautiously asking, “What’s this for?”

“I thought that such a large juicy fish must surely help with your recovery,” Toothless replied just a touch hesitantly, particularly after the last time he had tried to talk with her she had batted him on the nose.

“That is…nice of you,” she reluctantly said before taking a large bite of the fish, rumbling in pleasure as she devoured the rest of it.

“Once, you’re feeling better, I can show you the best locations to fish,” Toothless offered, hoping that wouldn’t be pushing things too far.

“Thank you,” Ský responded, a hint of surprise in her tone. “I would appreciate that.”

Toothless sat there in silence for a moment, not sure what else to do, but not ready to leave just yet. Eventually, he settled with saying, “You were very brave to escape from the trappers like you did.”

Ský gave a draconic shrug. “Any dragon would have done the same, if given the opportunity.”

“I suppose,” he acknowledged, while Ville’s advice repeated itself in his head. Be friends. Be friends. But how does that work? By getting to know one another, he supposed. Ský didn’t seem too open but maybe if he shared something first… “I think a lot depends on the circumstances, too, though. I didn’t try to escape,” he shared, “but then again, the situation I was in was different to yours.”

“You were captured, too,” she inquired, her ear nubs perking up a bit.

That was promising. Toothless nodded and said, “It was actually how I met Ville.”

Ský’s eyes went wide, her gaze flicking over to his bonded. “He was captured, too?”

“Not exactly,” he hedged. “Let me explain a bit about myself first. You see, I was on my own at a young age. I never knew what happened to my parents, and most nests were not willing to accept a Night Fury into their midst, much less an unattended hatchling. As for those that didn’t mind…well, they were not safe nests,” he disclosed, a shudder rippling from his shoulders all the way down to his tail as he recalled the one nest like that he had entered. Being prey was not something he ever wanted to experience again. “Unfortunately, I was not as alert to my surroundings as I should have been and was captured by some dragon hunters. I was just a fledgling at the time and was not strong enough to break through the cages with strength alone, and being muzzled…” He trailed off, knowing Ský would understand what he meant.

“That is the absolute worst,” she commiserated, a look of disgust on her face. “I hope never to have one of those awful creations on me again,” she declared vehemently. “But then how did you escape?”

“Ville.” Toothless gave a gummy grin as he thought back to their first meeting. “His old nest treated him horribly and those hunters who had captured me took him in. When we first saw each other on that ship, I felt something… Somehow, he gave me hope,” he recalled. “And then that night, he snuck down into the hold of their floating nest and into my cage, removing my muzzle.”

“And you escaped together,” Ský prompted, hooked on his every word.

Toothless shook his head fondly. “No, he curled up next to me and fell asleep.” He almost laughed at the look of shock on Ský’s face but managed to keep his composure. “There was no fear from him, only trust, despite the fact that he was but a fledgling himself. I could not just leave him there, especially after his kindness, and then, slowly but surely, he managed to change the hunters’ minds, convincing them that dragons and humans can be friends.”

He could see the moment Ský realized what he was implying. “Are you saying-?”

“Yes, Ville’s adopted family used to be hunters,” he confirmed. “This whole nest did. But then they changed, allowing us all to have a better life.”

“And you stuck around, despite the risks,” she pressed unbelievingly.

“I would do anything for Ville,” he proclaimed. “He’s special and our bond is something incredibly dear to me.” Toothless paused for a moment before venturing to say, “I think you already feel that to some extent with Ruffnut.”

“Perhaps,” Ský warily admitted.

Toothless could tell in the way the Light Fury’s wings were beginning to droop that their conversation had taken a lot out of her. Thinking it was best to quit while he was ahead, he backed away and bobbed his head respectfully. “Anyway, I had better let you rest.”

-o0o-

Ville and Ruffnut had quietly been watching the whole interaction, their game of Maces and Talons completely forgotten as he interpreted the conversation for her. It hadn’t escaped his notice that she was quick to pick up on the undertones and, as Ský watched Toothless walk away, an intrigued look in her eyes, Ville was not surprised when Ruff said, “So, that’s the way the wind blows.”

“Yup,” he verified. “And I kind of hope it works out.”

“Me, too,” she grinned. “They both deserve to be happy.”

“And if they’re not, we’re bound to be miserable,” Ville remarked wryly.

Ruffnut’s brows furrowed as she looked at him. “What do you mean?”

“Eventually, we’ll be getting married,” Ville reasoned. “Can you imagine living in a house with two dragons who hate each other?”

“Good point,” she acknowledged. “I think it will work out though,” she commented. “Ský just needs some time.”

“Agreed.”

Chapter Text

Though the winter had been a cold one so far, Ville couldn’t help but think that the warmth in their family more than made up for it. As he was putting the finishing touches on his betrothal gift for Ruffnut, he thought over all they had accomplished in the last months.

The extension on their house had been finished just before the cold weather set in, having been delayed as they set about building a hut for Gobber who was quite happy being situated so close to the forge. (One would never know it, though, as he spent so much time at the Grimborns’.) As for the new wing, Ruffnut had been blown away by all the details Ville had included, but most particularly by the size of the stillroom. It had been much larger than she anticipated, but Ville knew the importance of having enough room to work and there was no reason for them to skimp on anything. And after much persuasion, Toothless had managed to win over Ský, though, she didn’t make it easy on him.

Ville couldn’t help but think that things were looking up as he gave the bracelet he was working on one last polish before setting it with the others. It did not sit there long, though, as Elias paused by his workstation and picked it up, admiring the inlays and engraving he had done.

“That’s some fine work, Ville,” the blacksmith commented.

“Thanks,” he replied. “I just hope she likes them.”

“And why wouldn’t she,” Gobber piped up, using his hook to pick something from between his teeth. “I think the lass would like anything ye gave her, but that’s just my opinion.”

Ville chuckled, but he had to admit, his old mentor was probably right. “Thanks, Gobber. I guess there’s only one way to find out, though,” he declared, carefully wrapping up his gifts in a piece of purple silk before throwing on his fur-lined coat and heading out of the forge into the frigid February air. “Come on, bud,” he called to his best friend, his breath visible due to the low temperature. “Let’s see if Pilve can spare Ruffnut for the rest of the day.”

It was a short flight to the Healers’ Hut and Ville managed to sneak in without Ruffnut seeing him. “Hello, Pilve,” he greeted the head healer quietly.

“Ville,” she said, nodding a greeting while eyeing him warily. “I would ask what brings you here, but I have a feeling I already know.”

He grinned and, getting right to the point, asked, “May I steal your apprentice away?”

“I suppose,” she responded, “but only because things are relatively quiet. Don’t get used to it, though,” she warned.

“Yes, ma’am,” he nodded solemnly though it was belied by the twinkle in his eye. With Ruffnut’s availability taken care of, he crept up behind his sweetheart and snuck an arm around her waist, startling her slightly. “Hey,” he whispered, giving her a quick peck on the cheek.

“Ville! What are you doing here,” she inquired, a puzzled look on her face. “I thought you were spending the day in the forge.”

“I came to whisk you away,” he revealed with a smirk. “Got permission from Pilve and everything. Join me for a flight?”

“I’d love to,” she grinned. They walked over to the door hand in hand and he helped her slip on the white furs he had gifted her at the beginning of the winter before stepping outside, only to find Toothless and Ský nuzzling each other. “Or we could just take a cue from them and go cozy up in front of a fire,” she suggested, quirking an eyebrow.

That would be nice, but he really didn’t want to propose in front of his entire family. “How about we do that after our flight?”

Ruffnut sighed dramatically, before pulling up her scarf to cover the lower half of her face. “Fine. If you insist,” she capitulated, “but I’m holding you to that.”

They had a leisurely flight around the island, Ville having already clued in Toothless so he led them to the spot where Ruff and Ville had shared their first kiss and officially began their courtship. The location was not lost on Ruffnut and as Ville helped her off of Ský, she shot him a meaningful glance.

“Any reason in particular why you chose this spot,” she queried, looking at him expectantly.

“Perhaps,” Ville hedged, a slight smile on his face as he pulled down her scarf so that he could see her whole face. Taking both her hands in his, he began, “We’ve been courting for just over six months now…”

“We have,” she conceded, a matching smile on her face.

“And, with your permission, I think it’s time to take things one step further,” Ville proclaimed, noting the eager look on his beloved’s face. Taking a deep breath, he continued, “Ruffnut, I know we haven’t been reacquainted for that long, but in this short time you have completely stolen my heart. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

While he was expecting an enthusiastic ‘yes,’ he was not prepared for Ruffnut to launch herself at him, resulting in him almost losing his balance as she kissed him thoroughly. When she eventually pulled back, they were both grinning like fools, but though her response had been nothing short of positive, Ville still wanted to hear the words. “I’m taking it that’s a ‘yes’?”

“Most emphatically,” she declared, nodding firmly before snuggling back up to him. “Thank you, Ville. You’ve made my life so much better than I ever thought possible.”

“And to think, none of this would have happened if Berk hadn’t had dragon issues,” he commented, thinking that this whole situation was thanks to a certain Screaming Death. “Maybe we should go and thank Skriger, too…”

“I can think of something else I’d much rather do,” Ruffnut replied, tugging him down and kissing him again.

“Not that I’m objecting,” he remarked between kisses, “but I still have to give you your betrothal gift.”

Ruffnut’s eyes widened as she looked up at her betrothed. “Ville, you didn’t have to,” she claimed. “You’ve already done so much for me.”

“It’s tradition,” he justified, pulling the silk-wrapped parcel from his pocket and carefully unwrapping it. “Plus, I wanted to.” As he pulled back the final piece of silk, Ruffnut gasped in awe, catching sight of the finely engraved white and green bangles. He slipped them on her wrist and explained, “I realize that bracelets might not be the most practical for when you’re working in the Healers’ Hut, so I made you an arm cuff as well.” 

Ruff’s gaze moved from admiring the bangles to the arm cuff that Ville was holding out to her. It had been a time-consuming piece of work, but the delicate crisscrossing metal branches covered in leaves and elderflowers had turned out quite beautifully in his opinion, particularly since he had used appropriately colored Dragon Iron to make them appear almost lifelike. He thought the design suited her as he found her complex and thoroughly intoxicating, much like the smell of the potent little flowers that she would sometimes use when healing. 

His betrothed seemed at a loss for words, cradling the cuff in her hands as if she was afraid she would break it. She eventually found her voice, saying, “Ville, they’re absolutely gorgeous.” She rose on her toes and kissed him sweetly. “Thank you.”

“You are more than welcome,” he responded with his whole heart. “Now, I do believe there were promises of cuddling up in front of a fire,” he recalled hopefully.

Ruffnut just grinned before shoving him into the snow and running toward Ský as she called over her shoulder. “Race you back!”

“Not fair,” he shouted, scrambling back to his feet…well…foot.

“All’s fair in love and war,” she shot back, her laugh carrying on the wind as Ský zipped back toward the village.

Ville couldn’t help but shake his head fondly as he hurried to mount a laughing Toothless. “Thanks a lot, bud, but are we just going to take this lying down?”

“Of course not,” the Night Fury exclaimed as he crouched down. “Hold on!”

Chapter Text

There was only a week left before the wedding and everything was proceeding according to plans. The menu was set and preparations had begun, the wedding finery was complete, and Ville was putting the finishing touches on the rings before Dagur and his family arrived the next day.

He was just giving them a final polish when a shout was heard from Tulva’s square. Curiosity roused, Ville looked up just in time to see a brown Stormcutter practically crash into the middle of the village.

Quickly tucking the rings into a pouch and sliding it into his leather vest, Ville rushed out of the forge, noting the approaching Rumblehorn and Hotburple whose landings were slightly more graceful. It was clear, though, that all three dragons were thoroughly exhausted, causing Ville to wonder what had led to them being in this state.

He approached the Stormcutter first, his concern for it the greatest due to its clumsy landing. “Are you okay,” he queried, quickly following up his question with another. “How can we help?”

“Are you the one known as the Dragon Master,” the Stormcutter inquired wearily.

“Yes,” Ville confirmed, holding out his hand so the dragon could sniff him. “You are safe here.”

The Stormcutter seemed to slump further as he unfurled his inner wings, dropping a middle-aged woman into Ville’s arms. “Please, take care of her,” he begged before completely collapsing.

“Toothless,” Ville called out frantically, needing his dragon’s help as there was too much for him to do on his own. The Night Fury swiftly landed by his side, offering his back, but Ville shook his head. “Thanks, bud, but I can handle this,” he told his friend, nodding toward the woman in his arms. “Can you get the slings and some dragons to help these guys to the stables? I don’t think they’re going to make it there on their own.” Toothless bobbed his head and Ville promised to be along soon.

With that, the two went their separate ways, Toothless speeding toward the stables while Ville rushed to get the woman to the Healers’ Hut. She was quite light for her size, leaving him to wonder if she had been surviving on her own for quite a while. The way her clothes were haphazardly patched seemed to support that idea, but it was the arrow sticking out of her shoulder and the caked blood on the back of her head that caught his attention more than anything.

He was about halfway to his destination when Ruffnut joined him, her brow furrowed as she asked him who he was carrying.

“I don’t know,” he replied, shifting the woman slightly and causing her to moan. “A Stormcutter brought her and practically dumped her in my arms. My best guess is they were fleeing whatever caused her to be injured.”

Ruff laid a hand on the woman’s forehead and shot him a worried glance. “She’s not doing good,” she declared, urging him to move faster.

They made it to the Healers’ Hut with all due haste and turned the unknown woman over to those who were on duty. Ville watched for a moment as they assessed her injuries before turning to his betrothed. “Are you needed here?”

She shook her head, but said, “I’ll stick around though, just in case. She’s not in good shape, but I think they have sufficient help here.” She paused before adding, “If they do call for anyone, it would be Pilve or Gothi.”

Ville nodded sharply. “I’m going to see to the dragons, then,” he conveyed. “Once everything is taken care of here, can you let me know the state of things?”

“Of course,” she responded, “and I’ll bring a few extra herbs for the dragons with me.”

“Thank you,” Ville murmured as he pecked her cheek and took off for the stables.

By the time he arrived, Toothless had gotten the new arrivals settled and, though there were some cuts and scrapes, none of their injuries were too serious. Knowing that Ruff would take care of them soon, he decided to focus instead on the cause of their bone-deep exhaustion.

The Stormcutter was barely conscious and the Hotburple was sound asleep, snoring quite loudly, so Ville approached the Rumblehorn, the only dragon of the small party that seemed to be at least somewhat alert.

“You three are welcome to stay for as long as you want or need,” he stated, “but do you mind if I ask what happened?”

The Rumblehorn introduced himself as Skullcrusher and the other two dragons as Cloudjumper and Grump before explaining, “Our nest was attacked. Alpha and Cloudjumper’s human were trying to protect us from the attacking parties, but when she got injured, we were told to find her help.”

It was about as he had presumed, but still, not something he was hoping to hear. “And where is your nest?”

“Far to the northeast,” Skullcrusher answered. “We flew nonstop for three days.”

“No wonder you are all so exhausted,” Ville sympathized, stroking the robust dragon’s horn. “What of your nest? Does it need help?”

“I do not know,” Skullcrusher admitted. “Our Alpha is mighty…but the challenger…” He trailed off and shook his head.

“What species,” Ville pressed warily.

“Both Bewilderbeasts.”

His stomach dropped at this information. “Did the challenger have a human master,” he inquired, not wanting to hear the answer, but needing to know.

“Yes,” Skullcrusher confirmed, much to Ville’s dismay. “It was he who hurt Cloudjumper’s human.”

Ville let out a deep breath. They had known this day would come, but somehow, hearing of another nest being attacked was worse than if it had been their own, particularly since Skullcrusher was not even sure if their own Bewilderbeast Alpha would be strong enough to prevail. “We have been wary of him for quite some time now,” he disclosed. “Do you know if you were seen leaving? If you could have been followed?”

“There was no one,” Skullcrusher assured him confidently. “I regularly checked for any scents that could be trailing us.”

Well, at least that was good news and their flock would be safe for a little longer. That still left one question in Ville’s mind, though. “How did you know to come here?”

“Word of you has spread amongst the dragons,” Skullcrusher declared, bowing slightly in deference. “You are known to provide sanctuary to all.”

“It is the least I can do,” he reasoned, though sometimes convincing his brothers of that took a bit of finesse. Noticing that the Rumblehorn was beginning to droop, he said, “I will not keep you any longer, but perhaps once you have gotten some rest we can discuss going back to check on your nest.”

“That would be appreciated,” Skullcrusher acknowledged. “Thank you, Dragon Master.”

“It is my pleasure,” he replied before stepping outside, feeling like a Gronckle had settled on his shoulders.

The news was not what he had been hoping to hear, especially so close to his wedding. It was not something he could control, though, so the best they could do was prepare for the inevitable, much as they had been doing.

Catching sight of Ruffnut coming his way, he gave her half a smile and asked how the injured woman was doing.

“She’s stable, but it may be a day or two before she regains consciousness,” she revealed. “How about you? Did you find out anything?”

“Drago attacked their nest,” he confided, running his hand through his hair as his thoughts raced a mile a minute. “It is quite a distance from here, but…” He trailed off, staring into the distance.

“But the threat of war increases,” Ruff finished for him, lacing her fingers through his.

“Exactly.” He gave her hand a slight squeeze, appreciating her support. “The dragons had flown for three days straight to get here, so that was about the extent of the information I was able to glean, but it’s sufficient for now.” He paused, reluctantly releasing his betrothed’s hand. “I need to catch Viggo up to speed.”

“Go on,” she encouraged him, patting the satchel at her side. “I’ll see to their cuts while you’re busy.”

“Thank you,” he said earnestly, leaning in for a quick kiss before heading off to find his brother.

Chapter Text

As Ville was walking through the middle of town, he heard a shout and looked up to see a familiar Triple Stryke descending upon them. The dragon had barely landed when Dagur hopped off and quickly engulfed him in a hug.

“It’s good to see you, too, my friend,” Ville commented, his heart lightening a bit at his friend’s arrival. It was a welcome distraction from the upheaval thrust upon them the day before. “You came ahead?”

Dagur stepped back and said, “Yeah. Dad and Heather will be here by nightfall but I wasn’t about to wait when we were so close.” He paused and looked at Vilhehn quizzically. “What’s with you? Getting cold feet already?”

Ville sighed and shook his head. “No. If only it was that simple,” he remarked somewhat ruefully.

“What do you mean,” Dagur inquired, cocking his head slightly.

“Drago is in the northeast,” Ville explained as they began to walk through the village. “He attacked a dragon nest and a few of their members fled here with a human that had been injured. Seems she’s lived with them for quite a while and is as much a member of her flock as I am of mine.”

Dagur stopped short, laying a hand on Ville’s arm as he looked at him in surprise. “So, she can speak to the dragons, too?”

“Ok, so maybe not quite as much,” he clarified, not having meant to imply that, “but it’s the same principle.”

“Not the same,” Dagur stated emphatically.

“Whatever,” he responded before Dagur could say anymore, waving off what was sure to be a long speech about what made Ville so much better than everyone else. He appreciated his friend’s support, but now was not the time. “Things have just been a little hectic since their arrival, strengthening our defenses further and-”

“I think your defenses are strong enough,” Dagur proclaimed, shooting him an incredulous look. “Surely you’re more prepared than that other nest.”

Ville would love to believe that, but… “They had a Bewilderbeast and victory was questionable,” he shared, all his worry flooding back.

“And Tulva has you,” his friend declared staunchly. “That beats a Bewilderbeast any day!”

“Well, thank you for the vote of confidence,” Ville replied drily, “even if I do feel it’s rather misguided. There is still the matter of Berserker Island, though.”

That statement thoroughly confused Dagur. “What about it?”

“If Drago is attacking other nests, who’s to say where he will go next,” he reasoned as he resumed walking. “It could be here, or-”

“-or it could be Berserker Island,” Dagur finished, understanding dawning.

“Exactly,” Ville confirmed. “We sent out a few scouts to see what they could glean. I would hate for you to arrive only to turn back around again, but-”

“And miss your wedding?!” Dagur was staring at him as if he had gone completely insane. “I think not!”

“But Dagur, what of your people,” he argued rationally.

“They can handle themselves,” his friend claimed, waving his hand dismissively. “And considering Drago attacked a full on nest, I doubt he’d bother with us. Tulva is a much more likely target.”

“But Berserker Island is on the way,” Ville contended.

“And Bevroren keeps all intruders away,” Dagur shot back. Grinning, he added, “He sent his congratulations, by the way, and insists on meeting Ruffnut next time you visit.”

“If there even is a next time,” Ville grumbled, not sure what the next few months would bring.

Dagur groaned before grabbing his shoulders and giving him a shake. “Don’t be a doomsayer.”

“I’m not,” Ville protested. “I’m just being realistic.”

At that, Dagur let go of him and huffed, though he quickly perked up a bit as he changed the topic. “Do you want to hear the news from Berk?”

Ville pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really don’t need more drama right now.”

“It’s actually not bad,” Dagur revealed. “Not bad at all.”

He glared at his friend through narrowed eyes. “You’re going to tell me no matter what I say, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” Dagur grinned, looking just slightly unhinged.

Ville sighed and gestured for him to go ahead, though his permission was apparently unnecessary as his friend was already launching into his tale.

“After the whole fiasco that was our visit, Dad sent a note stating that he was leery of renewing our treaty,” Dagur divulged. “The letter Stoick sent back was…illuminating.” He stopped and looked at Ville expectantly, but when no response was forthcoming, he lost his patience, not that there was ever much there in the first place. “Aren’t you going to ask what it said?!”

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes, giving in gracelessly. “What did it say, Dagur,” he inquired, his voice full of false enthusiasm, causing Dagur to pout.

“You’re no fun,” he declared crossly before continuing with his news. “Anyway, seems ‘ol Stoick finally stepped up. Spitelout was sent to Outcast Island-”

“What?!” Ville stared at his friend in disbelief.

“Yup,” Dagur nodded smugly. “For his plot to get rid of you all those years ago. I can tell you, I was not expecting that either,” he confided. “And Snotlout was removed as heir and apprenticed to the new healer they managed to scrounge up. Sounded like he’s an old tarter, too.”

“From one of the highest positions to one of the lowest,” Ville mused, “at least in the Berkian’s opinion.”

“Mm-hmm,” Dagur agreed, a pleased expression on his face at the prospect of Berk’s former heir’s suffering. “Old Snottie isn’t taking it too well either, but the new heir keeps him in his place.”

Ville glanced at his friend warily. “Do I even want to ask who it is?”

“Astrid,” Dagur disclosed, “with Fishlegs as her advisor.”

“That…actually makes sense,” Ville acknowledged, thinking that she would by far be the most balanced option that Berk had. There was one person that Dagur had yet to mention, though, and he couldn’t help but ask, “There wasn’t by any chance anything about Tuffnut, was there? I know Ruff tries not to think about what happened, but…”

Dagur smiled at him sympathetically, thankfully having understood what he meant. “I think Stoick was aware where this information would turn up, so yes,” he replied. “Losing his best buddy to the healer’s hut, Tuff became a fish cleaner.”

“That is…an interesting occupation,” Ville commented, surprised that Ruff’s twin would select something so…monotonous.

“Yeah, well, it didn’t last,” Dagur remarked.

“What do you mean?”

“Seems he took his sister leaving pretty hard, became even more reckless than normal,” he imparted. “They had hoped that the repetitive nature of the work would help calm him down, and it did…to an extent. But then he started naming all the fish instead of cleaning them, taking them back to his hut and treating them like family.” Dagur grimaced. “The stench became so bad they had to forcibly remove him and give the house a thorough scrubbing. After that debacle, he was assigned to help the new blacksmith, who is apparently firm, but kind. They’re still keeping an eye on him to make sure he doesn’t do anything too crazy, but he’s doing better.”

Ville raked a hand through his hair, unsure how his betrothed would take this news of her brother. He didn’t doubt that she would probably blame herself for it in some way or another, but they truly didn’t need anything more on their plates right now. With that in mind he said, “Please, don’t say anything to Ruff, will you? I’ll tell her later, but…”

“Say no more,” Dagur assured him, clapping him on the back. “So, what are the plans for this week?”

“I-” Ville cut himself off as he caught sight of something over his friend’s shoulder. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he groaned, dragging his hand down his face.

Dagur turned around and followed his gaze. “Uhh, what’s that?”

“More dragons seeking sanctuary,” he replied wearily. “At least, that’s my guess.” This week just kept getting better and better, he thought sarcastically. “I’m sorry, Dagur, but I’ve got to go.”

“No worries,” his friend responded understandingly. “I’m starving anyway, so I’ll just head up to the Great Hall. See you later?”

Ville nodded before running off, hoping to intercept the dragons and lead them to the stables before they landed in the village.

Chapter Text

It turned out that Ville did not need to redirect the flock as one of the dragons he had sent out as part of the scouting party was in the lead, guiding them directly to the stables. He met them there and, heading straight for Hookfang, he said, “I’m assuming you have news?”

“We came across these dragons on our way,” the Monstrous Nightmare shared. “I led them back while the others continued forward.”

Ville nodded and turned to the new arrivals, asking which one of them was in charge.

“I suppose that would be me since I led everyone here,” replied a Purple Thunderclaw who stepped forward and introduced herself as Rumpus.

“It is a pleasure to meet you,” he greeted her, holding out his hand so that she could sniff him. “I am assuming you all are from the same nest as Cloudjumper, Skullcrusher, and Grump?”

“Yes, I followed their scent,” she revealed. “And you are the Dragon Master?”

“That I am,” he responded, sincerely hoping that Drago did not utilize tracking dragons or they were about to be done for. Deciding to focus on the newcomers for now, Ville inquired, “Do you have more news about the state of the nest or…?”

“I suppose,” Rumpus remarked. “More than Cloudjumper would have had, anyway.”

“Please, tell me so that I know how I can help,” Ville requested, noting that Toothless was already helping the newcomers get settled inside the stables so they could rest.

“I do not know that there is much you can do,” the Thunderclaw admitted, “other than allow us sanctuary, at least until we are able to find somewhere else.”

“What happened,” he pressed, needing to know exactly how things stood.

“The fight progressed once the others left and…it was not going well,” she confessed hesitantly. “I think Alpha realized that as he called off our defensive attacks and ordered us to flee.”

It didn’t take much for Ville to put the pieces together. Their Alpha did not expect to survive the battle and, rather than risk his flock being pulled under the control of Drago’s Bewilderbeast, he told them to flee while he could still protect them from the call. It was a noble sacrifice and made Ville’s heart ache as he thought of such a benevolent ruler meeting his demise.

“We scattered,” Rumpus continued, “so as not to leave a traceable route, but most of us had heard of you and knew this would be a safe place.”

Well, at least that was promising. If the dragons had dispersed as the Thunderclaw said, it was less likely that Drago would try to track them, thinking that finding one or two at a time was not worthwhile. But all those dragons… Oh, Viggo was going to kill him.

“Each group will be taking a different route, so as not to lead the enemies here,” Rumpus explained further, providing a bit of reassurance.

And as Ville thought about it, that course of action only made sense as the dragons would not want to be attacked again either, especially so soon.

“There is no telling when they will all arrive, though,” the Thunderclaw conceded, “and one group remained behind.”

“They didn’t flee,” Ville queried, wondering why they would risk it.

“They did,” Rumpus countered, “but they are staying close, hoping to return to our nest once the attackers have left.”

“Why would they...” He trailed off, recalling something Bevroren had told him that would apply in this situation. “Hatchlings.”

“Precisely,” the dragon bobbed her head. “They will not answer to an Alpha’s call and should therefore be safe from the intruders. Still, we were not willing to leave them to fend for themselves, but there was no time for us to attempt to collect them.”

“That is more than understandable,” Ville acknowledged. “Karl, Loni, and Stormfly, the other dragons who went to scout your nest, will surely lend a claw when they arrive.” The Thunderclaw rumbled her thanks as Ville scratched her chin.“For now, please rest. I am sure your journey was quite a long one. And if anyone has injuries that need to be treated, please let me know and we will see to them.”

“Thank you, Dragon Master,” she said gratefully.

Ville nodded and was about to go and search for Viggo to inform him of this latest development when he heard a dragon call him by his title. Turning he saw that it was the Stormcutter that had arrived yesterday.

As he walked over, the dragon almost desperately asked, “How is she? My human?”

“She is being taken care of,” he responded, stroking the large dragon’s face.

It was not enough to ease Cloudjumper’s worry, though. “She will be alright?”

“She will,” Ville confirmed, “though I’m not sure how long it will take her to recover from her injuries, so she may need to stay here for a while.”

The large dragon sighed in relief, finally allowing himself to relax. “She is safe. We are safe. That is all that matters right now,” he proclaimed, nuzzling Ville. “Thank you for your assistance.”

“I’m glad I could help,” he replied softly before leaving so that the weary dragon could get some rest. Toothless joined him, having delegated the care of the new dragons to some of their flockmates, and, together, they set about finding Ville’s brother.

It did not take long to spot him and Toothless was soon landing, with Ville hastily dismounting as he called his brother’s name.

Viggo turned toward them, saying. “Ah, Ville. I saw Dagur arrived?”

“Yes,” he verified. “His family will be arriving toward evening, but that is not what I came to discuss.”

His brother quirked an eyebrow and looked at him knowingly. “I assume this has something to do with the flock of dragons I saw descending on Tulva?”

“Yes,” Ville winced, steeling himself for his brother’s reaction. “They’re not the only ones coming.”

Viggo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Dare I ask?”

“The nest that was attacked, their Alpha told them to flee,” he divulged. “I think it was a precaution to guarantee their safety in case he didn’t make it. But apparently, many of the dragons have heard of me and this group is not the only one on its way here.”

His brother started shaking his head. “Ville, I-”

“I’m not saying that they’ll stay here permanently,“ Ville interjected. “There will be far too many dragons, I realize that, but they need somewhere to take sanctuary,” he reasoned. “I don’t think it will be too long until Drago finds us and their numbers would help us to better defend ourselves. After that, I’m all for finding a more permanent solution.”

Viggo stared at him for a moment before slowly nodding. “What you say makes sense. I suppose we can make do for now,” he capitulated, “but as soon as Drago is taken care of-”

“We’ll find them a new home,” Ville finished. “I promise.”

“Yes, well, I do believe I have heard that one before,” Viggo remarked drily.

“Technically, I never-”

“It is fine, Ville,” his brother cut in, shaking his head fondly. “I know you will keep your word. I only hope this situation does not get drawn out too long.”

“You and me both,” Ville concurred. “Though I must say, it would be nice if we could at least get through the wedding before any more complications get thrown our way.”

“I would have to agree,” Viggo declared, “but I have a feeling we had best be prepared for anything.”

Ville gave his brother a lopsided grin, trying to look at the situation hopefully. “Things can’t get that much crazier, right?”

Chapter Text

Valka opened her eyes slowly, the light seeming incredibly bright. As her eyes adjusted, she realized that her location was completely foreign to her. She could recognize the paraphernalia scattered around as belonging to a healer, but why and how was she here?

Catching sight of a blonde with elaborate braids, she opened her mouth to speak, but all that came out was a croak, her throat being incredibly dry, which caused her to wonder how long she had been unconscious.

The noise she made seemed to have caught the young woman’s attention as she turned around and hurried over. “Oh, good! You’re awake,” she declared, helping Valka to sit up a bit and passing her a cup of water that had been on the table by her cot. “We were getting a little worried about you there.”

Valka took a drink and made to sit up further, inquiring, “Where-”

“Oh, no,” the blonde interrupted, gently but firmly pushing her back down. “You need to stay there. You took a pretty nasty hit to the head, and that’s not even touching on the arrow we removed from your shoulder. You’re going to have to take it easy for a couple of weeks.”

Now that the young woman mentioned it, Valka noticed the deep ache in her shoulder and the pain radiating from the base of her skull. Despite her discomfort, she couldn’t help but comment, “You seem fairly young to be a healer.”

“I’m an apprentice,” the blonde clarified. “Pilve, the head healer, just stepped out for lunch.”

“Where am I exactly,” Valka queried, glad that she was able to get the question out in its entirety this time.

“Oh, sorry, you did start to ask that didn’t you,” the young woman replied guiltily. “You’re on Tulva.”

Valka’s brow furrowed. “I am not familiar with that name.”

The blonde began tidying things up as she said, “Well, from what we’ve been able to glean, you’re quite far from home. The dragons flew three days straight to get you here.”

The dragons! Valka shot upright, demanding to know where her beloved Cloudjumper was.

“Calm down,” the healer requested, rushing back to her side. “He’s fine,” she assured her. “Had a few scrapes, but it didn’t take long to patch him up. He’s resting now, as are Skullcrusher and Grump, and all the other dragons who showed up.”

Other dragons? What other dragons? The last Valka remembered they were defending the nest, but now they were far from home and… What happened? And how did this young woman know her dragons’ names? “I don’t understand,” she shook her head, regretting the motion immediately. “How do you know all this information? Why am I here?”

“As for the why, like I said, you were injured,” the girl said rationally. “Cloudjumper brought you here because he had heard from other dragons that this was a safe place and the home of the Dragon Master.”

Valka froze, drawing in a sharp breath as her eyes darted around. “Drago,” she murmured under her breath. This was the last place she wanted to end up, but how was she to-

“Uh, no,” the blonde declared emphatically, pulling Valka from her spiraling thoughts. “We haven’t met him yet,” the healer disclosed, “but we know it’s only a matter of time and we’re not looking forward to it.” Shaking her head, she continued, “No, Vilhehn is like, the exact opposite of that tyrant. Anyway, Ville got all that info from your dragons-”

“How,” Valka pressed, worried for her draconic friends. “Torture?”

The young woman looked at her askance. “No, he asked,” she stated simply before tilting her head. “We never did think to ask for your name, though.”

Valka was not sure how trustworthy these people were and did not dare give them her real name, so she settled with saying, “You can call me V.”

The blonde stared at her for a moment, before shrugging, seemingly accepting the strange name. “Okay. I’m Ruffnut, by the way.”

That caught Valka by surprise. It most definitely sounded like a Thorston name, and the girl even had the signature lanky build, but surely, it could not be… Ruffnut had said three days flight from the nest and Berk was only one and a half…unless there were more Thorstons spread throughout the archipelago… That had to be it. There was no other explanation. Having reassured herself that her secret was still safe, she made her request once again. “I need to see Cloudjumper,” she maintained, hoping to impress upon the young healer how vital it was.

“I thought we discussed this already,” she remarked. “You’re not going anywhere. Not until you’re all healed up.”

“I can’t stay here,” Valka claimed, her unease increasing. “It is too dangerous.”

“Honestly, we’re probably the safest place you could go,” Ruffnut commented nonchalantly, “and all the dragons from your nest are coming here, too, so there’s no reason-”

Valka’s eyes widened in alarm. “What are you speaking of?”

“Maybe I should get Ville,” Ruffnut proposed as she tapped her chin, not answering Valka’s question at all. “He might be able to explain things to your satisfaction.” She walked over to a desk and scribbled a quick note before leaning out the window and passing it to someone. “Sharpshot, give this to Ville for me, would you?” Coming back inside, Ruffnut said, “He’ll be here soon. Try and rest while you wait.”

That was the last thing Valka wanted to do. She just hoped this ‘Ville’ would not take long to arrive and would be able to tell her what had happened to her nest and the flock it housed.

-o0o-

Vilhehn was overseeing the installation of some of the additional defensive measures when Sharpshot landed on his shoulder, dropping a small scroll into his hand. “What’s this?”

“Ruffnut wants you,” Sharpshot said, promptly rubbing his face in Ville’s hair.

Realizing that no more information was forthcoming, Ville unrolled the parchment to find an incredibly short note.

Your presence is required at the Healers’ Hut. Viggo’s, too.

R

“She didn’t say why,” Ville inquired, glancing at the Terror as he wished that his betrothed hadn’t been quite so vague.

“No,” Sharpshot replied, his tongue flicking up to lick his eyeball, “but she was talking with someone.”

Ville held back a sigh. Of course this had to be the one time the nosy little Terror wasn’t eavesdropping. “Okay. Can you please take this to Viggo as well,” he requested, holding the note up for Sharpshot to grab. “Come on, bud,” he called out to Toothless. “We have to head back into town.”

The flight was short and Toothless happily greeted Ský as soon as Ville dismounted. Heading into the Healers’ Hut, Vilhehn went straight to his betrothed and gave her a peck on the cheek. “Your note didn’t say-” He stopped short as Ruffnut turned him around and he saw that their injured guest was watching them. “Oh, you’re awake.”

“She has a lot of questions,” Ruff explained, “and I thought it might be best if she got her answers straight from the dragon’s mouth.”

Ville quirked an eyebrow as he looked at his soon-to-be wife. “Are you saying I’m a dragon?”

“You do have wings,” she pointed out, causing him to pout.

“I could still call off the wedding, you know,” he reasoned.

“But you wouldn’t.” Ruff grinned smugly before giving him a quick kiss and shoving him toward their guest. “Now, go on.”

Ville had forgotten they had an audience and blushed as he apologized. “Sorry,” he said, waving his hand vaguely to encompass the exchange she had just witnessed. “So, how can I help you?”

The woman looked at him curiously. “And you are?”

“Vilhehn, Ville for short,” he introduced himself bowing slightly. “I’m also known as the Dragon Master. Not the title of my choosing,” he shrugged, “but it serves its purpose.”

“I have never heard of you,” she declared, eyeing him guardedly.

“From what I understand, you live quite far from here,” he acknowledged, stepping a little closer, “though I am not unknown in the archipelago. Your dragons knew of me,” he added, hoping that would offer some sort of reassurance.

Unfortunately, it only seemed to confuse the woman further. “But how do you-”

“Bud, can you look in for a minute,” he asked, thinking that this would be the easiest way to answer that question.

Toothless’ head popped up in the window with Ský’s appearing right next to him. “Do you need something?”

“Just showing our guest how I inquired so much information,” he shared.

“That should have been obvious,” Sky warbled disgruntledly before disappearing.

“Is that all,” Toothless queried, tilting his head.

“Yeah,” Ville nodded. “Thanks, bud.” He looked back at their guest to find her staring at him in shock.

“You…” She trailed off, seemingly unable to find the words.

“It’s something I picked up when I was younger,” he divulged, moving to sit in the chair placed by the bed. “Now, what can you tell me about the attack on your nest? I’ve gathered some information from the dragons who have arrived, but we need to make sure we are properly prepared.”

“I-” She got no further as her gaze was locked onto him in a way that was beginning to make Ville feel slightly uncomfortable.

He reached up self-consciously and ran his hand over his face, hoping that if there was any dirt or grime, that would have removed it, but Ruff hadn’t said anything, and her stare seemed too intense for that. “Is something the matter?”

“No,” she responded hesitantly, her gaze unwavering as her brow furrowed. “It’s just…that scar…”

It was then he realized she was referring to the scar on his chin. It was not easily visible, but as he had come to sit next to her, the light must have hit it just right. There was no reason for her to be reacting to it so strongly, though. After all, there was no way he knew her, so it wouldn’t be a defining mark. “Something from my youth,” he explained, waving it off dismissively so that the next thing she said caught him unawares.

“Hiccup?”

He looked at her sharply, his eyes narrowing as he warily inquired, “Why are you calling me that?”

The woman’s expression turned to one of astonishment as she hesitantly reached out, her hand hovering just in front of Ville’s chin. “Cloudjumper scratched him there, but it couldn’t be…That’s impossible.”

Ville stiffened, attempting to conceal his disquietude. “Who are you and what is your connection to Berk,” he demanded.

“Berk?!”

“You recognize that name,” Ruffnut queried from where she had come to stand behind him, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders and helping to ground him.

The woman in the bed brushed their questions aside, though, asking one of her own with a sense of wonder. “Hiccup, is it truly you?”

Oh, how he had come to despise that name and all it stood for, especially after their trip to Berk. And if this woman was who he thought she might be… “Madam, I will ask you one more time. Who are you?”

“Valka Haddock, wife to the Chief of Berk and mother to Hiccup,” she said softly. “It is you, Hiccup, isn’t it?”

He shook his head, unable to comprehend what he had just discovered. His mother was dead. Taken by dragons. The reason his childhood was so horrible. And yet here she was, seemingly alive and having lived with dragons for almost twenty years. It was too much.

He shot out of his chair and bolted for the door, brushing past Viggo as he came inside. Jumping onto Toothless, the Night Fury immediately took off, having clearly sensed his inner turmoil. They sped toward the horizon, but compared to Ville’s racing thoughts, it appeared to him as a leisurely flight through the clouds.

Chapter Text

Viggo looked from his hastily departing brother to Ruffnut, his brow furrowed. “What happened,” he inquired, his mind only drawing one conclusion. “Are we under threat of attack?”

Ruffnut grabbed his arm and dragged him outside, lowering her voice as she responded. “Not in the way you would think.”

“What is that supposed to mean,” he eyed her warily.

Ruffnut took a deep breath, a thoughtful look on her face. “I think Ville is currently at war with himself.”

“What happened,” Viggo repeated in the hopes of receiving an actual answer this time.

She jerked her thumb toward the Healers’ Hut. “Turns out that lady is his mom.”

Viggo froze. “I thought she was dead,” he uttered in disbelief.

“Yeah, well, so did all of Berk,” Ruffnut disclosed wryly, “but the fact that she is clearly breathing proves us wrong.”

“Is it certain,” he pressed.

“There are physical similarities between them,” she hesitantly admitted. “We were told she was taken by a dragon, but with what I know now, it makes sense that she wasn’t eaten.” She shrugged, not having anything else to add as her gaze drifted longingly toward the forest where Ville and Toothless had disappeared.

“I will check on him,” he assured her, his own concern having tripled at the reveal of this information. “That is if you do not mind remaining here?”

“I can handle it,” she nodded firmly, a smirk appearing on her face as she declared, “I’ve dealt with Berkians for years. Plus, Pilve will have my head if I leave our ‘guest’ unattended.”

With that, she slipped back inside and Viggo mounted Rynnätä, the Skrill rapidly taking to the sky. Unfortunately, Toothless was nowhere in sight and Viggo was well aware that the duo could completely disappear when they so desired.

There was only one way to find them, and though he hated to do this, his concern for his brother outweighed every other consideration. “Come, Rynnätä,” he said, guiding his Skrill in the other direction. “If we cannot find one brother, we will find the other.”

His eldest brother was not hard to find as he was running the Guard through their drills. Landing nearby, Viggo got his attention and made his request. “Ryker, with Kuori’s permission, may I ask for his help in tracking down our brother?”

The eldest Grimborn quirked his eyebrow. “What happened?”

Viggo grimaced. “Our injured guest has been revealed to be his mother and he did not take it well.”

Ryker’s expression hardened as he mounted his dragon. “I’ll come with you.”

“As much as I appreciate your offer, I think it would be best if only one of us approached him right now,” Viggo advised. “He was rather distraught.”

“All the more reason for me to join you,” Ryker proclaimed before asking Kuori to find Ville’s scent.

“You are as stubborn as your dragon,” Viggo complained as the Rumblehorn took the lead.

“You’ve got that right,” Ryker grumbled smugly.

Viggo glared at his brother. “That was not a compliment.”

“Sounded like one,” Ryker retorted, silence filling the space between them as Kuori followed Ville and Toothless’ trail, eventually starting his descent toward a clearing that appeared to be empty. “Where is he?”

Viggo, though, had spotted the Night Fury curled up in the shade of one of the trees and pointed him out. “I will give you one guess.” Their dragons landed and the brothers dismounted, heading toward the dragon who was shielding his best friend from prying eyes. “Ville?”

The anguished cries abruptly stopped, and their brother’s voice was heard from beneath his dragon’s wings. “How did you find me,” he demanded hoarsely.

“You most definitely aren’t thinking clearly,” Ryker huffed. “Have you forgotten about Kuori?”

“Stupid Tracker Class dragon,” Ville muttered, sniffing audibly. “I should never have let you bond with him.”

“Seems to me, I did that without you there,” Ryker reminded him, “and the situation was rather similar to this one.”

“Am I not allowed to have a simple breakdown in peace,” Ville complained, his exasperation more than apparent.

“No,” Ryker stated baldly. “Now, come out of there.”

Toothless obligingly opened his wings, though it was a reluctant Ville that finally crawled out and settled against his dragon, his hair even more mussed than usual and his eyes suspiciously red.

Viggo sat beside him and softly said, “Speak to us, brother. We cannot aid you if you keep it all to yourself.”

Ryker nodded his agreement from Ville’s other side as their youngest brother let out a heavy breath.

Staring at the ground, Ville emotionlessly said, “It was a lie. It was all a lie. She wasn’t dead. She stayed away from me, just like everyone else. If she had been there, things might have been different. I wouldn’t have had to deal with my uncle so much or been constantly hurt and hungry. And the look on her face. It was like all her dreams had just come true.” His voice cracked as tears began to stream down his face. “She was the one who stayed away," he proclaimed. "She left me!”

“She may not have had a choice,” Viggo reasoned, despite his better judgment.

Ville shook his head frantically. “She could have come back. She could have come back for me!”

Viggo’s heart broke as he pulled his younger brother into his arms, letting him cry out all his hurt. “Oh, Ville,” he murmured, offering comfort as best he could. He was not sure what was worse. The fact that Ville’s mother never came back for him, or that Ville would have been willing to leave Berk to live in the wild because his life was so horrible. Viggo could tell his older brother’s thoughts had traveled along a somewhat similar line of thought, but with a different result. “Ryker,” Viggo snapped upon noticing the glint in his brother’s eyes. “We do not enact justice when tempers are high.”

Ville pulled back a little and let out a watery snort, wiping the tears from his face as Ryker objected.

“I am thinking perfectly clearly, brother,” the eldest Grimborn snapped. “She has no right to just expect everything to be grand. She wasn’t the one who had to pick up the pieces after those Berkian lowlifes tore Ville down,” he practically snarled.

“I will remind you, we are not aware of what she expects,” Viggo said firmly due to the fact that all they had to go off of was one look. “Is that not correct, Ville?”

His little brother mumbled out some sort of half-hearted agreement.

“Until you speak with her, you cannot know what her reasoning was,” Viggo reminded him. At the betrayed look Ville shot him, he added, “I am not saying I agree with what she did, but you have to admit that if things had played out differently, we would not be here today. You would not have met Toothless and we would not have a little brother for whom we care deeply.”

“And we would still have been hunting dragons,” Ryker claimed, thankfully having put aside his prejudiced opinions for now. “You’ve done a lot of good, Ville,” he squeezed his youngest brother’s shoulder, “and it’s all because of how your life began.”

“Precisely,” Viggo affirmed. “It does not justify what you went through, but you came through the fire stronger than before and built something absolutely amazing. You would not be the person you are today without all of that.”

“I suppose.” Ville scrunched up his face in distaste. “But why did all this have to happen now,” he groaned. “With the wedding and the threat of war hanging over us, it-” He cut himself off as he winced, hissing in pain as he jerked forward.

“What is wrong,” Viggo hastily asked, resting his hand on his brother’s back in a show of support.

“My leg,” Ville whimpered, clutching said appendage.

Viggo and Ryker exchanged a quick glance, with the eldest Grimborn scooping up their youngest brother. “We need to get you back home and get some willow bark in you,” he declared.

“Agreed,” Viggo nodded. “The wedding is in four days and we cannot have you laid up for that.”

“Ruff would kill me,” Ville said, a slight smile appearing on his face as he thought of his betrothed.

“She would understand,” Viggo responded, “but I doubt she would be pleased, mostly because of her worry over you.”

“I know,” Ville grimaced as Ryker set him on top of Kuori before hopping on behind him. Looking over his shoulder at his brother, he said, “You know, Toothless could get me home just fine.”

“We’re not taking any chances,” Ryker declared adamantly, encouraging his Rumblehorn to head back to Tulva.

Viggo watched them disappear above the trees, wishing to be there for Ville, but he knew his brother was in good hands and there was still much to ascertain regarding this new development. With that thought in mind, he mounted Rynnätä, directing her to head toward the Healers’ Hut in the hopes of getting some answers.

Chapter Text

Ruffnut slipped back into the Healers’ Hut to find Valka staring at the door with a confused expression on her face.

“I-” She cut herself off and let her gaze settle on Ruff. “What just happened?”

“You just lost your chance to get in-depth answers to your questions,” Ruffnut replied flippantly, tossing one of her braids over her shoulder.

The bewilderment had not left Valka’s face as she said, “But why did Hiccup-”

“His name is Vilhehn,” Ruffnut interjected, her tone brooking no disagreement. “He changed it years ago and using any other name for him will not go well, let me assure you.”

Valka’s brow furrowed. “But why did he leave?”

Ruffnut stared at the woman incredulously. She knew she was recovering from an injury to the head, but still, it should be apparent. “I don’t know,” she commented dryly. “Maybe it’s because you ABANDONED HIM AS A BABY?!”

Ville’s ’mother’ winced at that, weakly claiming, “Cloudjumper took me. I didn’t have a choice.”

“Maybe not in leaving,” Ruffnut conceded, “but you could have returned.”

“The dragons needed me,” Valka justified, “and Hiccup had Stoick…” She trailed off, a panicked look appearing on her face, and Ruffnut doubted it was because she had used Ville's old name. “Is that why he’s here? Did something happen to Stoick?”

Ruffnut snorted. “Unless you count him becoming an awful father, then, no.”

“But-”

“That is not my story to tell,” Ruffnut declared adamantly, as she was not about to go into Ville’s past without his permission. Turning the subject, she emotionlessly summarized what they had learned from the dragons, hoping it would be enough to shut the other woman up. “As you saw, Ville can speak the dragon’s tongue. That was how we found out so much information about your nest and the dragons that live there. The Alpha told them all to flee. Ville assumes it was because he wasn’t sure if he would survive the battle and didn’t want to risk them falling under Drago’s control. Many of the dragons have heard of Ville as the Dragon Master and are coming here for sanctuary. That’s all I know, so don’t bother asking any more questions.”

As she was turning to resume her duties, she heard Valka softly ask, “Are you from Berk as well?”

“Yes,” she responded sharply. “I just moved here last year. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Thankfully, that seemed to be enough to silence the other woman and allowed Ruffnut to return to her work in peace...well, sort of. The calming nature of the Healers’ Hut seemed to have changed to one filled with tension now that she knew who her patient was. Sneaking a quick glance, she saw that Valka was part contemplative, part wistful, though Ruff couldn’t understand that last part as the lady’s choices were no one’s fault but her own.

She did not make much progress on the tincture she was mixing when the door opened and Viggo stepped in once again.

“You are needed back at the house,” he told her, looking at her knowingly and tapping his leg discreetly.

Oh, poor Ville. She knew this revelation had left him completely upended, but she hadn’t thought it would be so bad that his phantom pains would return. As much as she wanted to be at his side, she regretfully said, “I can’t, not until Pilve-”

“I am sure she will be along soon,” Viggo assured her.

Ruffnut wavered, but she knew what her duties were. “Are Heddi or Norell there?”

“Norell, I believe,” Viggo responded, “and Ryker.”

Ruffnut nodded. “Then I can wait for Pilve to return. It shouldn’t be long now.”

Viggo nodded understandingly before turning to their guest. Ruffnut knew she should get back to her work, but she wasn’t about to miss this interaction.

“I am afraid in my aborted visit I did not catch your name,” he said, eyeing her sternly.

“Valka. Valka Haddock,” the woman said guardedly. “And you are?”

“Viggo Grimborn,” he introduced himself, bowing slightly in much the same way Ville had. “Chief of the Stormhearts and one of Vilhehn’s adopted brothers.”

Valka’s eyes widened at that and she shook her head slightly. Her gaze was imploring as she began to say, “I didn’t know-”

Viggo held up a hand palm out, effectively stopping her mid-sentence. “You left your child,” he stated baldly, his disgust at the notion undisguised. She opened her mouth as if to explain, but Viggo did not give her a chance. “Your reasoning is not mine to know,” he declared. “That is between you and Ville, though if he decides to speak with you is his own decision. You and your dragon may stay until you are healed, but after that, it will be Ville’s choice whether you are allowed to remain or not,” he informed her. “Now, if you have any further information regarding the attack on your nest that could aid in our defenses, I would suggest you tell me before I take my leave.”

The middle-aged woman was thoroughly cowed, bowing her head in a show of submission. “I have been freeing dragons from Drago’s trappers for years,” she disclosed, her voice not much above a whisper. “I know he had to be aware of me, but not that he knew my nest’s location.” She paused for a moment before continuing. “His attack caught us completely unawares. He has a Bewilderbeast-”

“We are aware of that fact,” Viggo cut in.

Valka simply stared at him for a moment, blinking a few times before saying, “Oh, of course. I should have realized.” She wrung her hands nervously. “I don’t know that there is anything else that would be of help to you. I-”

The door burst open before she could finish, Gobber barging into the infirmary with no regard for any patients who might be there as he looked around and loudly proclaimed, “Valka! Yer alive!”

Ruffnut thought the lady’s eyes were about to pop out of her head.

“Gobber,” Valka exclaimed. “What are you doing- Ow!”

Ruffnut rushed forward and pulled Gothi back from where she had snuck in behind Gobber, expertly dodging the elderly healer’s staff as the old bat tried to get a hit on her. “Gothi! While I do not disagree with you, we don’t whack patients here, remember,” Ruffnut reminded her, though it had little impact as she only received a glare in return. “Yeah, I know she deserves it, but still-”

“I don’t understand,” Valka declared, looking back and forth between the faces she recognized. “What are you all doing here?”

“Ville came to Berk to help with a dragon problem they were having,” Gobber shared, plopping into the chair that was near the bed. “None of us were too happy there and so we left with him. Up and moved ourselves here at Viggo’s invitation. But Valka, where have ye been all this time?”

“I- I was living in a dragon nest,” she stammered, seeming to still be trying to wrap her head around everything.

Ruff caught sight of Gothi’s staff preparing for another strike and caught it. “Oh no you don’t,” she reprimanded, shaking her finger at the little old lady who promptly grabbed her arm and dragged her over to the sandbox they kept for when she came to advise them on a case. Ruffnut watched her scribble in the sand and turning to Valka, said, “Gothi wants to know why you didn’t come back and if you feel guilty that Ville almost died?”

“What?!”

“I assume you are referring to when he was six,” Viggo queried, receiving a nod from Gothi while Valka looked like she was about to have a heart attack.

“He almost died more than once,” she shrieked, though considering the lady had abandoned her son, Ruff thought the extremity of her reaction was unwarranted.

When Viggo glanced at Ruffnut with one eyebrow raised, she shrugged and explained, “They didn’t get past the fact that she’s his mom and I wasn’t about to tell her anything.”

Viggo’s brow furrowed as he thought, eventually saying, “I suppose, seeing as we all played some part in saving Ville, it would not be remiss for us to explain what happened.”

Ruffnut brought two more chairs over by the bed and as she was about to resume her work, Pilve returned. It didn’t take long for Ruff to gain permission, and she was soon racing back home to help her betrothed, not upset at all that she would be missing Valka’s grand reckoning.

Chapter Text

Ville reluctantly spent the next few days at home, keeping off his leg to ensure he wouldn’t have any issues at the wedding. Ruffnut remained by his side as much as possible, partially because she wanted to help him, but also because she was actively avoiding the Healers’ Hut and his mom, for which he couldn’t blame her. Of course, her constant attendance on him led to a lot of good-natured ribbing from his family, as well as friends who happened to stop by, that he was only marrying a healer due to his propensity for needing their help. He laughed along with them, aware that they all knew that theirs was a love match, as it should be.

He realized that he probably should have made an effort to speak with his mother, but with the wedding so close, he didn’t dare risk his emotions getting the better of him and sending him into another bout of phantom pains. So much had been prepared for the event and he didn’t want anything to interfere with what he hoped would be a perfect day. Ruffnut deserved nothing less.

And a day to remember it was! Vilhehn was pretty sure his jaw was on the floor at his first glimpse of his bride in her wedding finery. The flowing white dress with the delicate black embroidery, the exact opposite of his ensemble, fit her like a glove. And her hair! After spending so much time around Ruff and Lissa, he had learned what quite a few braids were called and he believed the one she now wore was a waterfall braid, allowing her waves to cascade down her back, all the way to her knees. She was an absolute vision and he almost pinched himself just to make sure it was all real.

Most of the ceremony passed by in a blur, Viggo prompting him when it was his turn to speak and keeping the proceedings moving along. The only part he truly remembered was the exchange of the swords and their rings, both of which he had crafted with the utmost attention to detail. The look of awe on Ruffnut’s face when she caught sight of them made all that hard work worth it. And, of course, the kiss that concluded the ceremony. That was something he would never forget!

The feasting began in earnest and, after receiving many congratulations, the two of them were finally allowed to sit down and eat something themselves.

They had not been sitting for long when Ruffnut leaned over and rested her head on his shoulder. “Oh Ville, I’m so happy right now,” she proclaimed, shifting so she could look up at him lovingly.

“Me, too,” he smiled softly. Swept up in the moment, he asked her if she’d like to dance.

“Are you sure you’re feeling up to it,” she queried, a look of concern on her face.

“I promise I’m fine,” he assured her, pecking her cheek, “and nothing would please me more than to take my beautiful wife around the dance floor.”

A huge grin appeared on her face. “Well, if you insist.” With that, she jumped to her feet and practically dragged him to the dance floor, where they stayed for several songs before mingling with their friends for a bit. They returned to their table briefly but soon decided to sneak out, more than ready to head home where it would be just the two of them.

As they were walking home with their arms linked, their Furies scampering around them, Ruffnut tightened her hold on him and said, “I never did get to thank you for my ring. It’s absolutely stunning,” she gushed.

With the moonlight sparkling in her eyes, she looked utterly enchanting and Ville couldn’t help but say, “It’s not half as beautiful as you,” before leaning down and kissing her quite thoroughly. Eventually, he pulled back, but only enough to rest his forehead on hers as he admitted, “I’ve been wanting to do that all evening.”

“Why did you wait so long, then,” she pouted.

“Too many people in there,” he explained, gesturing toward the Great Hall.

“Well, I know the perfect place where we can be alone,” Ruff declared cheekily as she removed herself from his arms, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “But you’ll have to catch me first!” She hiked up her skirt and took off running, her laughter echoing through the empty streets.

Ville grinned and gave chase as Toothless and Ský warbled encouragement to their respective friends. He came out the winner, though, as he managed to catch his wife just before she reached his family’s home. Pulling her inside, he stole a kiss as his prize before leading her to the wing that would now be theirs, Toothless and Ský happily trailing behind them.

Now that they were alone, the weight of the past few days returned, and there was a nagging guilt at their change in plans. “I know we were supposed to go on a trip, but-”

Ruffnut pressed a finger to his lips which he promptly kissed, causing her to blush adorably. “I’m perfectly content with the way things are,” she claimed. “I’d rather stay here anyway.”

“Are you sure,” he pressed. “I’d hate to disappoint you.”

“I’m married to the love of my life. How could I be disappointed,” she reasoned with a soft smile. “Plus, I’d rather not have to take a ship, but if it’s just us and our dragons the accommodations wouldn’t be as nice,” she confessed, wrinkling up her nose.

“Ruffnut Grimborn,” he said dramatically, taking delight in using her new last name, “have you gone soft?!”

“Hey, the beds here are much nicer than what we had back on Berk,” she defended herself. “You can’t blame me for preferring that to the hard ground.”

“You do make a good point,” Ville conceded. “Still, I feel bad. If it wasn’t for all this going on we could have-”

“If you don’t shut your trap,” Ruff cut in, “I’ll shut it for you.”

Ville smirked, recognizing that saucy look on her face. “What do you have in mind?”

-o0o-

Ruffnut woke up the next morning to find herself nestled in her husband’s arms with her head resting on his shoulder.

“Good morning, beautiful,” Ville whispered tenderly, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

“I don’t know how you can say that,” she retorted, snuggling a bit closer. “My hair’s a rat’s nest.”

Ville ran a hand down her braid and asked, “How would you know what it looks like?”

“It’s always a mess when I wake up,” she stated factually before reluctantly moving to get out of bed. She had never been one to just lay about all morning and, despite the pull of her husband’s arms, there were things that needed to be done, even if they weren’t planning on leaving the house.

“I still think you’re beautiful,” he maintained.

“You’re prejudiced,” she shot over her shoulder as she went to get ready for the day.

“I never claimed I wasn’t,” Ville responded and she looked back at her husband to see him sporting a cocky grin. “Would you like some help with it?”

“I’d love that,” she said gratefully before proceeding to get dressed in the new clothes Ville had so generously gifted her. She wasn’t sure what she had done to deserve him, but she was so incredibly thankful for him.

It wasn’t long before they were sitting back on the bed, with Ville behind her trying to carefully comb through her hair.

“How do you even manage all this hair on your own,” Ville queried incredulously.

She shrugged. “I’m used to it,” she replied, an idea popping into her head. “Has your hair even seen a comb in the last few years?” She giggled as she felt her husband’s hands still.

“Oh yes, very funny,” he responded flippantly. “It’s not my fault that it’s a little wild.” He resumed his combing as he added, “You know you love it.”

Ruff spun around and sunk her hands in his fluffy mane, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “You know I do, but it’s fun to tease you about it.”

Ville grabbed her shoulders and turned her back around, his stern expression belied by the twinkle in his eyes. “At this rate, I’ll never finish.”

“I wouldn’t mind,” she declared brazenly, enjoying the feeling of his hands in her hair.

“Ruffnut!”

She peeked over her shoulder to find Ville staring at her, thoroughly disconcerted. “What? It’s just the two of us here and we only got married yesterday. Am I not allowed to spend time alone with my husband?”

“Of course you are,” Ville hastily remarked, hesitantly adding, “but it would be nice to eat. With all the festivities and congratulations last night, I was kept pretty busy and didn’t get much food.”

“Why didn’t you say so,” she said softly, feeling bad that she hadn’t realized, though come to think of it, she hadn’t eaten all that much either.

Ville shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal.”

“Yes, it is,” she proclaimed, grabbing the comb from his hand and quickly getting the remaining knots out before creating a simple braid. After tying it off, she pulled Ville to his feet and down the stairs, intent on feeding him.

They had a leisurely meal and washed up together afterward, though once they finished, Ville asked her to wait there as he had something for her.

“Well, it’s actually two somethings,” he amended, reaching into the closet beneath the stairs to pull out what appeared to be a miniature metal spear. “I know you like spears,” he explained, “but they’re kind of awkward to carry around when you’re flying. It took me a bit to figure out the mechanics, but-” He pressed a button that Ruffnut hadn’t noticed, and the spear extended to its full size, catching her by surprise. He passed it to her and as she examined it closer, he said, “There’s a holster, too, so you can carry it on your leg, just like I carry Inferno.”

Ruffnut marveled at the engraving along the spear shaft which was just as detailed as the swords they exchanged at their wedding. She could recognize her husband’s handiwork in an instant and flung herself into his arms. “Thank you, Ville. I love it!”

“I’m glad,” he responded, “But there’s more.” He reached into the pouch on his belt and pulled out a set of decorative leather strips that had gems and scales dangling off at regular intervals. “I don’t know if this was a good idea or not,” he acknowledged,” but I thought you might like something to add to your braids. This should be sturdy enough that you can wear it every day.”

“They’re beautiful, Ville,” she said earnestly, “but what if one of the gemstones falls off?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “The dragons find them and bring them to me all the time. Don’t worry about it.”

She nodded and looked at him in excitement. “Would you help me figure out how to work them in?”

“Of course,” he replied happily, “though I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

She threaded her fingers with his and began heading back up to their room. “I want to do something different. It seems only fitting, now that we’re married,” she reasoned. “You can tell me which style you like best.”

Chapter Text

Valka had been allowed to leave the Healers’ Hut a couple of days ago and had been moved to a guest hut instead. She had to admit, if only to herself, she absolutely hated it. She was not used to being around people anymore, but at least the healers who were constantly on duty helped her not to feel so terribly alone.

After her move, Cloudjumper would come and visit her everyday, the hut being too small for him to stay there with her, and that helped to an extent, but she was still under restrictions from her injuries and was not allowed to go flying or do anything strenuous, which rather limited them.

The nights, though, were the worst. All she could do was think about what she had been told of Hiccup- no, Vilhehn’s youth. How her poor baby had almost died from neglect and abuse, and then barely escaped from being murdered by his uncle. Her guilt tore at her insides, but how could she have known?! She had thought that he would be safe there, that Stoick would take care of him. True, the lad had been a tiny little thing, but Stoick had been so proud to have an heir. What had changed? The only conclusion she could come to was that perhaps her not being there had made a bigger difference than she thought.

She had not been told much beyond what led to Hiccup being smuggled out of Berk and how he ended up here with the Stormhearts, convincing them to change their ways, and at such a young age, too. All this time he had taken after her, and where was she…? She could have been nurturing him, helping him to love the dragons as she had, but she had been too focused on her own desires. Gobber had been disappointed in her and Gothi was downright furious with her, but she could not exactly blame them.

At least she took comfort in the thought that Vilhehn seemed to be happy now. Her last night at the Healers’ Hut, she had been looking out the window and caught sight of him with his bride. Their passionate and playful interaction with each other warmed her heart and made her think back to her own wedding day, how Stoick had looked at her the same way Vilhehn was looking at Ruffnut. They truly loved each other and for that Valka was thankful, even if she had no right to be.

He was all grown up now, a man with his own family, and there was no place for her in his life. Unfortunately, she was stuck here until she was fully healed and was left to deal with these feelings of guilt and loneliness by herself in a home that was not even her own.

Her depressing thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door, and, though she had no idea who it could be, she called out for whoever it was to come in. You could not imagine her shock when the door opened to reveal none other than her son.

“Oh,” she murmured, feeling slightly rattled. “Hello.”

He stood there silently for a moment before saying, “May I come in?”

“Of course,” she hastened to assure him, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that her son was standing here in front of her.

He stepped inside, his Night Fury slinking in behind him. “I’m sorry for the way I ran out the other…last week,” he apologized awkwardly. “It was just a lot to take in…especially since I thought you were…you know…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely.

Valka shook her head, thinking that if anyone should be making amends, it ought be her. “I’m sorry, Hic- Vilhehn,” she said, barely catching herself. “If I had known…”

When she didn’t finish her sentence, Vilhehn softly asked, “Would you have come back?”

She took a deep breath. “I would like to say yes…but I don’t know.” She knew it wasn’t the answer he wanted to hear, but it was the truth. Seeing his disappointment, though, broke her heart. “I’m a horrible parent,” she muttered, burying her face in her hands.

“Well, you’re not as bad as Stoick, if that’s any consolation,” Vilhehn replied in an attempt to assuage her guilt.

It was not lost on her that he referred to his father by the man’s first name, but rather than make her feel better, it only made her feel worse. “And I left you there…”

“Well, you didn’t know,” Vilhehn reasoned, shrugging halfheartedly as he stroked his Night Fury friend. He seemed to debate with himself for a moment before adding, “And Viggo did point out that if things hadn’t happened the way they did, I would never be the person I am today.” He looked her in the eye as he continued. “It would have been nice having a mom, but I can’t image not having my brothers or Toothless in my life. I never would have had a grandfather either,” he said, his gaze drifting wistfully toward the window for a second before he returned to the present. Squaring his shoulders, he concluded, “I’m proud of who I’ve become and that is a result of my past, both the good and the bad.”

Valka smiled at him fondly. “You are so wise for your years.”

“Well, my brothers raised me well,” he stated. “Grandfather, too. Growing up here…I think that was the best thing that could have happened to me.”

It was a hard thing to hear, that your child thought they were better off without you, but when you had never been there for them in the first place, there was no one to blame but yourself. Valka would like that to change though, if Vilhehn was willing. “Would- would you be willing to share a bit about your childhood with me,” she hesitantly inquired. “I would like to get to know you…if you’d let me.”

Vilhehn nodded slowly, though he remained rather closed off during his retelling of some of his adventures from when he was younger, the tales always featuring Toothless or one of his brothers, both of which he seemed to be incredibly close to. 

Though it was interesting hearing about her son’s youthful adventures, there was one topic he seemed to be avoiding, one that had clearly had quite an impact on his life. While Valka wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or not, she was determined to find out more. “And…your leg,” she ventured. “Do you mind me asking what happened?”

Her son grimaced, Toothless curling tighter around him and crooning reassurances. Vilhehn smiled at his dragon, before looking back at her, his face exceptionally solemn. “Do you remember the raids back on Berk?”

“I don’t think I could forget them,” she shuddered.

“The reason the dragons were raiding was because they were being controlled by a Queen,” Vilhehn shared stoically. “She was power hungry and not willing to be reasoned with. We were going to regroup and attempt to find another solution, but then she broke out of the volcano that was her nest and our options drastically decreased.” He took a deep breath before continuing. “Toothless was able to kill her before she could kill us, but there was a lot of debris when she exploded and my leg was impaled by a shard of bone. It couldn’t be saved.”

To have gone through all that…and he would have had to be quite young. “How old were you?”

“I was fifteen.”

Valka winced, unable to image what that must have been like. “Was- was it hard to adjust?”

“Yeah, but my family didn’t let it get me down,” Vilhehn disclosed, a small smile on his face. “They supported me through it all.”

While Valka was beginning to thoroughly regret the choices she had made, there was one thing she was thankful for. “I’m glad you found a family who cares for you so deeply.”

“Me too,” Vilhehn said, giving her a half-hearted smile.

Chapter Text

As Ville took his morning flight with Toothless, he thought back over the conversation he had with his long-lost mother the day before. It had been awkward, but he supposed it could have been a lot worse. At least she had felt bad about what he had been through and the fact that she wasn’t there for him, which was more than he could say for Stoick. It didn’t mean he was comfortable with her, not by a long shot, but he might get there…in time.

He would say, though, that he was glad he had taken Viggo’s suggestion and brought Toothless along with him. The Night Fury helped to ground him and always knew when he needed a bit of extra support, aiding him in staying calm…and also keeping him from running out the door again.

All told, he wasn’t sure if he would ever truly view the woman as his mother, but perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad having her here for the nonce. It wasn’t like he would be around her that much what with all his responsibilities and preparing for Drago’s imminent arrival. He thought he could handle an interaction here and there, hoping that would be enough. He would just have to look at her as a potential ally and maybe from there, something more would eventually grow. And if it didn’t…well, he was fine with that, too.

They were taking one final lap before heading off to the forge when Ville caught sight of a familiar Nadder wearily flapping her way toward Tulva.

“Stormfly,” he called, getting the dragon’s attention as Toothless flew to her side, adjusting his flight to keep pace with her.

“There is much to discuss,” she revealed, her fatigue more than apparent as she faltered mid-flight.

“That there may be, but you need to rest,” Ville commented. “Let’s get you to the stables and-”

“No, there’s no time,” Stormfly declared, shaking her head frantically after she landed on the nearest cliff, her wings unable to support her any longer. “Drago’s ships are two days out. We must prepare.”

As much as Ville wanted to encourage her to save her energy, he knew that he needed to find out what she had discovered.“Tell me all we need to know,” he requested, “and then you must rest.”

She bobbed her head and began. “The nest dispersed. We came across more than one group during our journey, all of them stating their intent to come here. They did make it,” she inquired, tilting her head inquisitively. 

“They did,” Toothless assured her while Ville gently rubbed around her wing joints to ease her muscles after the long flight.

“Good,” she breathed a sigh of relief. “The nest was in shambles when we arrived, but according to the dragons who returned, all the hatchlings were accounted for.”

“I am sure many of the refugees will be relieved to hear that,” Ville smiled, glad the baby dragons had been left unharmed.

“Most definitely,” Stormfly agreed emphatically, “but there is more. Their Alpha lives!”

That caught Ville by surprise. “He defeated Drago’s Bewilderbeast? But I thought you said-”

“It is more complicated than that,” she interjected. “Once the Alpha sent his flock away, he was able to turn his focus on the other Bewilderbeast, controlling her enough so that her final blow was not fatal.”

“How was he able to reach her?”

“According to him, she was still fairly young and inexperienced,” Stormfly related, “allowing him to direct her actions, though it was not enough to free the dragons under her control.”

“I suppose that makes sense,” he murmured, “but surely Drago would not have let the Alpha remain?”

“I am getting there,” Stormfly remarked long-sufferingly. “As I said, the blow was not fatal, BUT it did cause significant damage. The Alpha fell into the water and, with all the blood and the fact that he did not resurface, Drago’s forces assumed he was dead and left. We came across them a short distance from the nest on our way there and Karl snuck closer to gather more information.”

Ville stopped his ministrations to say, “That was too risky.”

“But worth it,” Stormfly insisted, “otherwise we would never have learned that Drago has heard of you and is on his way here.”

“This is not good,” Toothless rumbled worriedly.

“It is nothing we did not expect,” Ville reasoned, “and we have been preparing for just such an occasion. Was there anything else, Stormfly?”

“Not much,” she responded. “We continued on to the nest and Karl and Loni are staying to help with the hatchlings and assist the Alpha as he recovers. He will come this way once he is fit, but there is no telling when that will be. I did not linger long,” she explained, “just enough to rest my wings and gather the information for you, but on my return flight, I did spot Drago’s flock. As I said, they are but two days out and will be here soon.”

“Did you happen to see how many ships or dragons there were,” Ville queried, coming to stand in front of her.

“The dragons appeared to be kept in cages or below deck, so I am not sure,” she disclosed, “but the Alpha did say there were maybe three hundred or so under the other Bewilderbeast’s control when they attacked his nest.”

“A fraction of the size of our flock,” Toothless observed, “and that’s not counting the dragons from the other nest.”

“Precisely,” Stormfly confirmed, “but with a Bewilderbeast on their side…” She trailed off chirping anxiously.

“We will manage,” Ville stated confidently. After all, they had no other choice. “And the ships?”

“I did not dare stick around long enough to count,” she replied, “but there were easily over one hundred of assorted sizes, some even larger than your flock’s ships.”

Ville nodded in acknowledgment. “Thank you, Stormfly. Your help has been invaluable,” he praised her. “Do you feel up to making it to the stables on your own or do you need some assistance?”

“I will be fine,” she proclaimed, ruffling her wings slightly. “The short rest and the pressure from your paws helped tremendously.”

“Okay,” he said, giving her one last scratch. “Get some food and some rest. I’m sure you’ll need it.”

She bobbed her head and took off, leaving Ville to think over the information she had shared. The size of Drago’s fleet was daunting, but the Stormhearts were strong, as were their dragons. Their plan was sound and with this new bit of intel, Ville thought that they might actually have a chance.

“What do you say, bud,” he asked as he turned to Toothless. “Do you think we can handle it?”

“We had better be able to,” the Night Fury remarked. “There’s too much at stake.”

“So true,” Ville sighed, his optimistic mood turning pensive as he thought about all the people and dragons who would be in danger when Drago made it to their shore. They would fight tooth and claw to keep their tribe and flock safe, though, and that wasn’t about to change anytime soon.

Mounting Toothless, he said, “Come on, bud. Let’s go inform Viggo of the latest development.”

It was time to make some final adjustments to their plan and prepare the Stormhearts for war.

Chapter Text

As Drago’s ships appeared on the horizon, Ville’s gaze swept over his home, hoping that their preparations would prove to be sufficient.

The elderly and the children had been barricaded inside the Great Hall and the Guard was armed to the hilt, ready to man the defenses. The dragons had been given their assignments and fitted with moss earplugs, not that they would necessarily help against the Bewilderbeast, but there were other plans afoot that they would need to be protected from. Raske and his pack had also been roused and were patrolling the beaches, ready to sting anyone who dared to step foot on their shore.

With the fleet getting closer, Ville sent out the Tidal Class dragons who had been willing to help, asking them to start attacking the ships from below, hindering their progress. Hugo left shortly afterward, leading every Changewing in their flock in a camouflaged assault, spitting acid at masts and weaponry.

There was still no sign of Drago and his Bewilderbeast though, which left Ville a little uneasy. Still, their first wave was causing quite a bit of damage. Several of the smaller ships were already sinking, whilst one or two of the large ones were listing, clearly taking on water themselves. When the Changewings ran out of acid, they fell back, Hugo leading their return to the village to take up their stations protecting the Great Hall.

With the airborne dragons no longer a concern and the ships now in range, the defenses Ville had worked so hard in designing came into play. Each specially designed catapult with a stone bucket had a row of Gronckles lined up behind it, ready to provide a steady stream of lava rock blasts that could be hurled at the ships without the dragons needing to risk getting close. Standard catapults also fired boulders and flaming barrels of Monstrous Nightmare gel that would explode upon impact. There were also the ballistas and slingshots which fired balls covered in metal shards. It had been a handy way to use up all the scrap metal that collected and, at the speeds they reached, they could cause quite a bit of damage, especially when fired in bulk.

Ville and Toothless led the rest of the dragons in an aerial assault against Drago‘s dragon army as his brothers led the ground forces. Their dragons outnumbered Drago’s three to one, but stopping the intruders without causing significant harm was not an easy task. Ville was more than ready for this senseless fighting to end, but there was nothing he could do until Drago or his Bewilderbeast appeared. 

Unfortunately, time was running out as he noticed that some of the dragons were starting to be affected by the Bewilderbeast’s call, subtle though it seemed to be. It was mostly the wild dragons who were struggling, and those who were not of their flock even more so. Perhaps there was something about being bonded to another that helped them to resist the call of an Alpha. Now was not the time to ponder such things, though as he was not counting on the other dragons holding on for too much longer. He began racking his brain, trying to think of a way to move things along. 

As the destructive forces continued to reign down on Drago’s fleet, the waters below started to churn and Ville watched with bated breath, realizing that he didn’t need to do anything as the height of the battle was about to commence. The Leviathan laboriously pushed herself out of the water, all smokey greys and deep reds, so unlike the lighter coloring of Bevroren. Her whole demeanor was the complete opposite as well, radiating a bone-deep pain and misery, the despair of which was felt by those under her control. She turned to one of the boats briefly before stepping foot on the shores of Tulva.

Raske and his pack scattered to the forests, moving their patrols to a safer location where they would not attract the attention of the Bewilderbeast and be pulled under her control. That control was not something to fear for much longer, though, as Toothless fired into the forests of Tulva, the signal that Skriger had been waiting for.

The Screaming Death came barreling out from among the trees, his massive size appearing diminutive in comparison to the Bewilderbeast. But though he was much smaller, his voice was still piercingly loud. The dragons from Tulva, as well as the refugees, were not affected thanks to their moss earplugs, but the same could not be said for the other dragons. Their flight was becoming erratic as the screams disoriented them and they weren’t the only ones. 

The Bewilderbeast was shaking her head desperately, her eyes scrunched in pain as Skriger put all his focus on her. The result was her control over the other dragons beginning to wane. As soon as Ville saw the signs, he signaled to Garff, who up until now had been covering their wing, to start phase two.

The Death Song gave a musical chirp before beginning to sing his siren-like song. With the Bewilderbeast’s control faltering, many of the dragons under her power were pulled in by the entrancing melody, following Garff to the far side of the island with half of Tulva’s dragons going along for backup.

As the attacking dragons left, an angry yell was heard from atop the Bewilderbeast’s head, catching Ville’s attention and earning him his first glimpse of Drago.

“What is wrong with you?!” The madman struck the Bewilderbeast with his bullhook as he screamed. “Control that beast, you worthless creature!”

The cruelty made Ville’s blood boil and the accompanying growl from Toothless assured him that his dragon felt the same. He pulled out one of the moss earplugs and quickly leaned over to whisper to the Night Fury, “Let’s make this one count, bud,” before replacing it, blocking out Skirger’s continued screaming.

Toothless’ wings pumped as he gained sufficient altitude before divebombing at the Bewilderbeast, letting loose a plasma blast at the last moment to knock Drago off the colossal dragon’s head. The despot tumbled down the Bewilderbeast’s face and to the ground, his fall not as bad as it could have been as she lowered her head, whining at the pain the blast had caused.

Drago, however, was not as intimidated as his dragon was. “Is this how it is to be,” he roared, shaking his bullhook that he had somehow managed to hold onto. “Come, let the two Alphas settle this in the traditional way, by fighting to the death. My challenger is ready,” he declared smugly. “Where is yours?”

Ville had about enough of this tyrant who thought that fear and death were required to control dragons. He knew nothing of loyalty or kindness, the basis that a true nest was built on. Patting Toothless’ flank in a reassuring manner, Ville slid out of the saddle and used his wings to glide down to the beach. Drago’s malevolent gaze was not lost on him and as soon as he landed, he flippantly said, “I heard you were waiting for me?”

“And who are you,” Drago sneered.

“The Dragon Master, not at your service.” Ville’s bow was so slight as to be offensive. Toothless landed behind him, snarling as he crept to his side, while Ville continued, “I am the Alpha of this flock, but isn’t talking things out so much more effective than spilling innocent blood?”

“Call off that abomination,” Drago demanded, gesturing to Skriger whose stamina did not seem to be wavering as he continued to scream at the Bewilderbeast.

“Why would I,” Ville asked incredulously. “So you can regain control of the dragons under her thrall? I don’t think so,” he declared adamantly. “Now, tell me, is there a reason you brought your pitiful little flock for a visit,” he asked, portraying an air of indifference, as if Drago’s attack on Tulva was nothing more than a minor inconvenience. “We really don’t have the room if you were hoping to give them a new, safer place to live.”

Drago looked about ready to have an apoplexy. “Why, you-”

He never finished, though, as what he was not aware of was that Ville had been nothing more than a distraction, allowing Garff the needed time to lure the other dragons away before circling around the island and sneaking up behind Drago, encasing his body in amber.

“Well, that takes care of one problem,” Ville remarked offhandedly, lighting Inferno and waving it over his head to signal a few dragons to come and guard Drago, just in case any of his men got the crazy idea to attempt a rescue. Of course, they’d have to make it to shore first, but there was no sense taking any chances.

“What is this,” Drago shouted, seemingly trying to break free from the amber even though it was a lost cause.

“Surely you’re familiar with Death Songs.” Ville smirked underneath his helmet as Garff got in Drago’s face, shooting a small bit of amber in his hair. “I’d be careful if I was you,” Vilhehn suggested. “If you annoy Garff too much, he might just finish covering you in amber. I’ve heard asphyxiation is not a pleasant way to go, but I guess that’s your choice,” he shrugged. “Now that your attempt has failed, I guess it’s time to try things my way.”

Chapter Text

Valka was not pleased to be relegated to the Great Hall when she should be helping her dragons defend themselves. Her only consolation was that Cloudjumper had joined her, coming in with the other dragons that were a last line of defense in case Drago’s forces made it this far. Of course, as she saw him hanging around another Stormcutter, she began to think she might have been wrong about his motives.

“You found yourself a lady friend, now did you,” she remarked as she approached, looking upon the other dragon with an appreciative eye. “She’s quite a beauty.”

“I would have to agree,” said a voice just behind her. Valka looked over her shoulder to find a redhead walking past her and over to the other Stormcutter, affectionately stroking the dragon's flank as she said, “I think Sulka is just as enamored of Cloudjumper as he is of her. By the way, I’m Heddi,” she introduced herself, “Viggo’s wife and Chieftess of Tulva.”

“Oh!” Valka quickly took a step back, feeling exceptionally awkward now that she was aware this woman was a part of Ville’s family. She would be seen as trying to ingratiate herself and that was the last thing she wanted. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Heddi assured her, gesturing for her to join her at a nearby table. Valka reluctantly followed as the other woman asked, “How are you finding your time here on our island?”

Valka opened her mouth, only to close it again as she thought over how she should answer. Taking a seat, she replied, “Enlightening, I suppose.”

Heddi smiled softly. “Vilhehn seems to have that effect on people, though in your case it’s a little different, isn’t it?”

“You’re not mad at me,” Valka queried, looking at the other woman in confusion. “Everyone else seems to be.”

“While I do not think I would have made the same choices, I can understand that you were in a difficult situation,” the Chieftess of Tulva reasoned. “Ville has spoken with you and I believe he made his peace, so what reason would I have to hold anything against you?”

“I don’t know,” Valka conceded, “but I do believe the others do.”

“It is a sensitive topic for Viggo and Ryker,” Heddi sighed, her gaze drifting to a random corner as she continued. “Ville was…rather broken in spirit when he arrived. He was completely comfortable with Toothless, but even the most commonplace things would send him into a spiral. It took a long time for the brothers to help him work through that and for him to realize he was safe and cherished here.”

Valka looked at the redhead curiously. “You sound as though you had a hand in that as well.”

“I did,” she admitted, a smile hovering around the corner of her lips as she shook her head fondly. “Ville has this way of wrapping everyone around his little finger, not that he’s ever realized it, but he’s just so endearing that you can’t help but care for him.” She paused for a moment before returning to what they had been discussing before the slight detour. “In many ways, Viggo and I are as much parents to him as we are his brother and sister,” she confided. “So, it is only understandable that certain members of our family may still be a touch wary around one who has caused him pain.”

Valka flinched at that and though she was sure the other woman noticed, she was kind enough not to comment on it.

“He is working through it, though,” Heddi observed, “and I think that bodes well for us all.”

“You are too kind,” Valka acknowledged.

There was a snort from their left, coming from behind a familiar white dragon who appeared to be napping. “You’ve got that right.”

“Ruffnut, that is no way to speak to your husband’s mother,” Heddi chided her sister-in-law.

“I’ll speak as I see fit,” Ruffnut declared, glaring over her dragon’s back, “and, though we are friends, you’re not the boss of me.”

“Perhaps not,” Heddi conceded, “but it still wouldn’t hurt you to be polite.”

“Attribute it to my upbringing,” Ruffnut shot back before stomping off to another corner of the Great Hall, her dragon slinking behind her.

“She is just frustrated right now,” Heddi noted wearily. “I think in some way, we all wish we were out there, helping defend the island, and I’m sure she’s worried about Ville. We all have loved ones out there which makes this waiting rather tedious, especially as we have no idea whether the battle is leaning in our favor or not. I assure you, though, she will come around.”

Valka nodded understandingly, remembering how she felt back on Berk when she was at home during the dragon raids all those years ago. “Do you think she would take it the wrong way if I…” She trailed off, waving vaguely toward the spot her son’s wife had settled in.

Heddi’s brow furrowed. “It’s hard to say with how she’s acting right now, but I don’t think it would make anything worse.”

With that ringing endorsement, Valka cautiously approached Ruffnut, much in the same way she would an injured dragon. “I can understand how you feel.”

“Yeah, right,” the blonde muttered, her arms crossed as she looked steadfastly in the opposite direction.

Valka gingerly sat nearby, saying, “I too would much rather be out there, helping defend my dragons, but Pilve has not cleared me for flight yet.”

“At least you have a valid reason,” Ruffnut implied. “I’m only here because it was deemed necessary to protect the healers.” She scrunched up her face in distaste. “I could do with a little less protection if it allowed me to know what was going on out there.”

“The waiting is the worst,” Valka agreed, “but I am sure someone will bring us word soon.”

“I hope so,” Ruffnut concurred, falling back into silence.

It may not have been much, but Valka took it as a promising step forward in her relationship with her son’s family. After all, Ruffnut was not chasing her away or running in the opposite direction. Heddi’s insight had helped as well and she hoped in time they would come to accept her, at least marginally.

Chapter Text

Ville confidently approached the Bewilderbeast, calling out to Skriger to leave off his screaming. With the Death silenced, the Leviathan turned her attention to Vilhehn, seeming to realize that the other dragons listened to him, though considering her apprehension, she must be under the assumption that he was cut from the same cloth as Drago.

“What’s going on,” she keened, her fear and uncertainty more than apparent. “I- I don’t understand. Who are you? Why are you attacking me?”

“Do you really not understand,” Ville inquired softly, wanting to help her reach her own conclusions.

“No one has attacked me like that before,” she whimpered. “And that noise!” A shudder rippled all the way down to her tail as she shot a wary glance at Skriger. “It’s horrible!”

Ville signaled for the Screaming Death to go on his way, knowing that as long as he remained, the Bewilderbeast would be distracted. “Why were you ordering your flock to attack ours?”

“My flock,” she repeated in surprise. “They are not mine,” she shook her head adamantly. “They belong to my master. We all do.”

“Surely a creature as magnificent as you does not belong to anyone,” Ville reasoned.

“I- I do not know of what you speak,” she claimed, her distress increasing. “I must obey him. If I do not, the consequences are horrible!”

The poor thing, so consumed by fear that she could not see her escape was right in front of her. “Would you like to be free of him?”

“It is impossible,” she declared, only becoming more riled.

“Have you ever tried?”

She stilled and bobbed her massive head slowly. “Once when I was much younger…”

“And smaller, I assume,” Ville pressed.

The Bewilderbeast nodded again.

“I would say you have grown quite significantly since then,” he ventured. “What prevents you from leaving him now?”

“I… I do not know…” She trailed off, a thoughtful look on her face.

“Would you like to leave and live somewhere safe,” Ville proposed.

Her gaze was fastened securely on him as she said, “I would like a new master. You?”

She looked so hopeful, but that was not something Ville was willing to accept. “I cannot be your master,” he replied gently, his heart breaking as the Bewilderbeast’s face fell, “but I can be your friend. Would that do?”

“A friend,” she tilted her head as she pondered over his offer. “I have never had one of those.”

Ville smiled slightly beneath his helmet, realizing that he and this dragon were not so different from each other. “I experienced the same thing in my youth,” he disclosed, “but then I moved here and found many friends…and a family. The same could happen for you.”

“I would like that,” she rumbled happily, lowering her head and breathing frost over him.

“Then it’s settled,” Ville declared, already thinking of ways he could convince Viggo this was for the best. “We need only take care of your master and-” He stopped short as he turned around and saw that the Death Song had completely encased Drago in amber, just as he had feared might happen if the man did not listen. Still, he had expected Garff to have a bit more self-control. He ran over and removed the Death Song’s moss earplugs, gesturing to Drago as he asked, “Was that really necessary?”

“He reeked of desperation,” Garff snarled, not sorry in the least. “He was too dangerous.”

“He couldn’t have done anything from inside your amber,” Ville reminded the Death Song, slightly exasperated that the dragon had taken matters into his own claws. It should have been left to Viggo to decide Drago’s fate, but there was no going back now. Seeing as Garff was not about to apologize, Ville decided to just move on. “Well, though it was not what I had planned, I guess it leaves us one less thing to worry about. Now all that’s left are the ships.” Turning back to ask the Bewilderbeast for her help in destroying Drago’s fleet, he stopped short as he realized, “I never did catch your name.”

She looked at him sorrowfully. “I do not have one.”

Ville knew how important a name could be. How it could help you to leave your past behind, to grow from it. Thinking carefully, he said, “What about…Selvitä?”

“I like that,” she crooned appreciatively, standing a bit taller.

Ville grinned, glad that she was so proud of her new name. “Selvitä, would you mind nicely asking the other dragons to lend a hand in destroying the ships?”

Her confidence wavered as she murmured, “I do not know that they would want to…not after…” She trailed off, her gaze landing on Drago’s entombed remains.

“Perhaps if you phrase it as leading a rebellion,” Ville suggested, thinking that surely the other dragons would need to realize that she was used just as much as they were. “You will have to speak into their minds rather than roaring out loud,” he added, “as our dragons are wearing moss earplugs to protect them from Skriger and Garff’s calls.”

“I could try,” she responded hesitantly. Selvitä firmed her stance as she reached out to the myriad of dragon minds, reaching out to Ville’s as well. “Come, my friends, and lend your claws and fire in taking down the floating nest that has enslaved us for so long.” She glanced at Ville, looking rather unsure of herself. “Do you think that was okay?”

Ville couldn’t be more proud. “Why don’t you take a look for yourself,” he recommended, gesturing to the approaching horde who were beginning to rain fire down upon the remaining ships.

True, the battle had not been an easy one, but overall, it could have been so much worse. And with Drago and his fleet taken care of, they shouldn’t have to worry about any more threats to their way of life.

“Ville!”

His gaze was pulled away from the awe-inspiring sight to see his brother running toward him.

“Are you alright,” Viggo queried as soon as he got a bit closer.

“I’m fine,” Ville assured his overprotective brother as he removed his helmet, shaking out his hair. “How is everyone else? Did the Guard manage to hold off the ships successfully?” He hadn't seen any land, but he wanted to be sure.

Viggo nodded firmly. “With the dragon’s help, not one soldier set foot here. And it looks like they never will,” he concluded, looking out to sea and the growing destruction.

“A good lesson not to get on a dragon’s bad side,” Ville remarked lightly. Deciding to just get it over with, he gestured to the Bewilderbeast and said, “So, did you want to meet my new friend?”

His brother looked at him incredulously. “Ville! You didn’t?!”

He shrugged awkwardly. “Well, it seemed the most expeditious way and Selvitä is really nice,” Ville justified. He hadn’t had time to come up with too many arguments in favor of her staying, but he threw out the one that he thought would be the most persuasive. “She is a Tidal Class, if that makes any difference, so she won’t take up any space, per se.”

Viggo just shook his head resignedly. “I honestly don’t know why I’m surprised anymore.”

“I’ve wondered that myself,” Ville smirked, leading his brother over to introduce him to their newest addition.

Chapter Text

“Daddy!”

The call caught Heddi’s attention and she looked over to see her daughter running straight for Viggo’s open arms, a certain Wooly Howl trailing behind her.

Her husband scooped Lissa into his arms, something he would not be able to do for much longer, and as he walked over, he inquired, “Have you and Pika behaved?”

“Of course,” Elisabet declared. “We helped Mama keep Niko and Ansa and Immi busy. Can we leave the Great Hall now?”

“As soon as the barricade is taken down,” Viggo promised, leaning over to kiss Heddi on the cheek before setting down their daughter.

If the barricade was still being dismantled, then that must mean he had come in through the secret entrance that Ville had insisted on adding, the one that only a select few knew about. Needing the reassurance only her husband could provide, she asked, “Is it over already?”

“It is,” he confirmed pulling her in for a hug.

“And is everyone alright? " she pressed, cherishing the warmth and sense of security he always gave her.

“So far as I can tell, yes,” Viggo replied. “I do believe the dragons are still tying up a few loose ends, but by the time the barricade is down it should all be over.”

His response caused her to smile. “Drago’s forces were sent running, then?”

“It would be more accurate to say they were fully decimated,” Viggo smirked, “mostly thanks to Ville.”

“He’s okay,” Ruffnut queried, having come over as soon as she spotted her husband’s brother.

“He is fine,” Viggo answered before turning to their son and daughter and nieces who had crowded around them. “In fact, he has someone that he would like you all to meet.” He raised his gaze and spoke to the woman who was unobtrusively trying to sneak away. “Valka, you are more than welcome to join us.”

“I would not want to intrude,” she remarked apprehensively.

“You would not be,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I do believe Ville has some questions to ask you as he requested your presence specifically.”