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Broken

Chapter 45: Voice

Hiccup realized he had 'pulled up his net too early' while he and Toothless were making their way to the northern nest. He really wasn't prepared to discuss the ideas he had with anyone just yet. He never had trouble working out problems with Gobber, his dragon or his father as long as they could talk to each other easily. Although his mind was rapidly turning over ideas on how an oath would work between Vikings and dragons, he soon remembered he couldn't talk directly to other dragons without Toothless. Speaking with his dragon wasn't flawless, either. The thought of getting his idea across to the nesting dragons through Toothless became more daunting the longer he considered it.

It was also possible his whole idea might fail before it got started. He now wondered how much of dragon behavior was based on instinct and how much on thought. A Red Death could heavily influence thinking dragons of breeding age with a potent scent that mimicked young and wounded dragons. The fact that scent could overrule their desires was worrisome. What other weaknesses might dragons have? How much of their behavior came from inside themselves rather than as reactions to things outside themselves?

But Toothless had confirmed that dragons told stories, had histories and sang songs. Hiccup couldn't imagine doing those things while in a mindless stupor. Perhaps the scent changed their thoughts the way too much ale could change a Viking's. Get enough drink into Sigurd Clayfoot's stomach and he would weep at the drop of a helmet. The same overindulgence would make Grumblemud fight anyone or anything, including rain barrels and sheep.

His real concern, however, was oaths. Did the dragons have any concept of pledging themselves to an action and letting that pledge dictate their actions when called for? And if they did, how seriously did they take such pledges? Was there any stigma for breaking an oath?

Hiccup could only hope to find out, while relying on their scant, written language for a bridge.

Toothless called out to the nest as they approached. He was surprised to realize, just then, that he was likely alerting the dragons on the ground that he was a friendly visitor. Or perhaps he was even asking permission. He became distracted by the implications, making him glad Toothless was using his own controllers for his tail fin.

The thought that dragons had the equivalent of 'knocking on the door' before entering another dragon's domain was tantalizing. Hiccup's focus, however, was brought back to his current predicament the moment they touched ground near the nests. He immediately observed a slight change in the nesting dragons' behavior.

A few of the nests that he could see from the beach were empty of parents and offspring. Even more noticeable was a small group of baby dragons clustered around a large Nightmare. The adult dragon was lying comfortably among the nests with one wing fanned out on the ground. The damage to the wing's relatively delicate structure made it obvious that she (to judge by the length of the tail) was no longer able to fly. The remaining flesh between her wing bones was scabbed over and slightly swollen. She seemed relaxed as she watched Hiccup staring at her while half a dozen hatchlings stared at him.

Hiccup smiled at the sight. There was something deeply rewarding about seeing the next generation of dragons being raised on the same soil as Berk. It also spoke highly of their kind that one who was wounded in a way that would hinder her feeding or protecting herself looked to have a secure place among them. It was very Viking-like behavior, to his eyes. If a villager lost a hand or foot, they weren't considered 'dead'. It was far more likely that villager would recover and return to be a far more determined warrior the next time he or she crossed paths with their foe.

He did suffer a twinge of doubt when one of the hatchlings, a tiny Nightmare a bit larger than the rest of its playmates, decided to make its unsteady way toward Hiccup. Seeing what was about to happen if no one intervened, Hiccup looked to Toothless. The Fury was watching the dragonet with mild curiosity. He turned to the adult Nightmare watching over the mixed brood. She was also keeping her eye on her tiny charge without any sign of distress. He gazed at the hatchling again, wondering if he was ready for the encounter.

It was an easy decision, ultimately. The dragons were displaying their trust in him. He would make certain to prove it was well founded. He took a single step away from Toothless and gently lowered himself to the ground. Folding his false leg under him, he sat cross-legged and waited for the days-old Nightmare to complete its short journey. It reminded him of approaching a mother cat with a new litter. If she knew Hiccup, she would allow him to sit nearby and let the kittens investigate him at their own pace.

The hatchling stopped just out of reach. Its proportions reminded him of any young creature, human or otherwise. Its head was a bit oversized for its body. The skin of its wings looked incredibly delicate, practically translucent when they spread slightly. The horns were mere stubs, as were the spines along its back and the talons on its stumpy paws. Strangely, its coloring was muted, a condition it shared with all the other young who had remained by their caretaker.

It craned its narrow head forward to sniff at him. Two more steps and it could brush the tip of its snout across his knee. When it looked up at his face, he could see it struggling to make sense of what it saw. Perhaps it had only recently opened its eyes, for there was the slightest trace of milky white across its yellow irises. Hiccup made no move or sound, allowing the introduction to proceed comfortably and safely.

The scales were so tiny they looked like they would feel soft to the touch. He noticed its teeth had not yet grown enough to protrude from its jaws, making it look even less threatening than it would at full size. When it opened its maw to chirp quizzically at him, he saw the budding stumps of white that would later be capable of biting a shark in half.

Hiccup looked up at Toothless, a wide grin on his face. The Fury was plainly satisfied with their conduct so far, so he decided to go to the next step. He gradually moved one hand closer toward the little Nightmare's head. When the hatchling noticed it moving, its focus zeroed in on it. He held it still for a bit, letting it decide whether it was comfortable with it being so close. It chirped again and leaned forward to sniff at it, then rubbed the tip of its snout across his palm.

He was right. The scales were as soft and warm as the best leather Kabbi could make. He gently moved one finger to rub under the hatchling's chin. It took no time at all for the little guy to decide it liked the feeling and was quickly leaning into the motion.

A shadow crossed the ground off to Hiccup's right and circled around him. A Nadder's happy-sounding chirrup floated down to him as he continued to caress the hatchling with a fingertip. He heard wings working hard and a dull, crunchy thud of talons landing on driftwood. Looking over he saw the same dragon with whom they'd previously met. The Nadder was easily distinguished by the wide swath of blue that started at his backbone and rolled down both legs. The small patches of light yellow within the blue field almost looked like clouds dotting a scaled sky.

Toothless and the Nadder spoke to each other. Hiccup wished once more that he could directly understand all dragons, even if he couldn't speak their language. It was plain to him, though, that they were welcome in the nest. He watched as the blue-legged dragon stepped around them and lowered himself to the ground to make conversation between the three of them easier. The large head lowered to consider the hatchling, which had discovered the entertainment of gently mouthing Hiccup's knuckles. The young man smiled up at their host.

"Toothless, would you please tell him I have an idea that would help dragons and Vikings get along, even cooperate with each other?"

The Fury regarded him a moment, as though surprised by his request. After a pause, words were exchanged. Then both dragons sat silently, watching him. Trying to keep his words simple and direct, he began to outline his idea.

"You know what a promise is, right?"

"Yes."

"Vikings," and he pointed to himself, "sometimes make very special promises. We take these promises very seriously. We call them an oath." His dragon leaned a little closer, concentrating and lifting his ear flaps. He wanted to hear the word again to be sure he understood. "Oath," Hiccup said clearly. When Toothless leaned back again, he took a deep breath and asked, "Do dragons ever take an oath with one another?"

Toothless stared. If he hadn't known his friend as well as he did, it might have seemed a bit creepy. For several seconds, the Fury didn't move, didn't react. Then his eyes widened slightly and he leaned back a little more. Toothless barked several sentences to the blue Nadder, who responded with increasing interest. He then answered Hiccup directly.

"Yes! Yes!" He grabbed at his metal pencil, fumbling it a bit in his haste. [know strong words to keep teeth gone] He considered a moment and scratched more words. [have strong words to keep dragon together]

Half his worries laid to rest, Hiccup kept his breath steady and his mind focused. He couldn't afford to get ahead of himself. "What happens if a dragon doesn't keep his oath?"

Toothless didn't seem to understand. He tilted his head slightly and made a small rumbling sound. [not do]

"Dragons never break an oath?"

[no good not do] Toothless paused, thinking. [not do like not eat]

Hiccup had to be certain. It was too important. "What if a dragon can't keep an oath?"

Toothless looked at him with narrowed eyes and a slight rumpling of his snout. 'Insulted' was the first thing that came to mind.

[dragon know one from other - not same]

Raising his hands in apology, Hiccup clarified with, "I needed to be sure. This will be very important to the rest of the village. So..." He took a deep breath and set out his goal. "Could dragons and Vikings say those strong words to each other?"

His friend stared again, only this time there didn't seem to be much enthusiasm in his expression. Eventually he spoke to the Nadder and the two discussed something for a while. As they talked Hiccup had his attention drawn to the hatchling Nightmare that was investigating his knee and the protruding end of his outdoor leg. It sniffed intently at the metal foot pad and then mouthed it experimentally. Another trait shared between the young of dragons and Vikings. It shuddered at the taste and backed away, apparently unhappy about its discovery. As it wandered back toward its minder, he heard Toothless' pencil scratching in the rough soil again.

[need talk other dragon home]

Hiccup hesitated. "We are. That's why we're here."

Toothless blinked. "No." He looked down at his last sentence. He then wiped away the last three words with a swipe of his paw. [need talk other big dragon home]

"Big...dragon... oh! You mean the nest at Red Death Island?" He pointed off in the general direction of the dragon's original lair.

"Yes."

"Oh, ok." He tried not to grimace at the thought. "That's, uhh, moving a little faster than I planned but..." Hiccup had known his idea would need to involve every dragon, to some degree, just as it would need to involve every Viking. Handling the 'Viking' side of the equation was a task he knew would require his father's help. He hadn't had enough time to properly consider how to tackle it. Bringing all the dragons together at the start was a bit more than he'd hoped for. He had figured on starting small, with the goal of accomplishing easier tasks first before taking on the larger ones. It seemed the dragons preferred not to wait.

Hiccup supposed he could understand.

"All right. I guess we can try getting the sail up before putting out the oars."

He would have set fire to his own beard before admitting it, but Stoick was nervous.

He'd expected to start meeting with fellow chiefs eventually, once the idea of the trading mission was born. There had been long evenings spent considering how he would handle those meetings; the attitudes he would adopt, the lines he would draw, the concessions he might make. It had even occurred to him there might be a bit of a language problem, depending on who they met. They had no idea who was really out there anymore.

Never once had he imagined his first such meeting would be with the leader of the old Red Death's nest.

The day after Stoick had finally convinced Hiccup to take his leadership role more seriously, the young man came to him brimming with excitement about an idea he'd had regarding Viking/dragon relations. He'd assumed there would be weeks to spend figuring out how to treat with their new allies. Now he was being thrust into negotiations that he'd expected Hiccup would have slowly nurtured. In his defense, it took far less time for Stoick to realize that his dismay was born from the same fear of the unknown that had originally kept him from accepting the dragons for what they were. The truth was neither he nor his son had a complete grasp on what they were about to do.

He was extremely grateful he had Thorithr's company while on this mission. She was the best reminder there could be of the success he'd had in dealing with his old fear. If he could gain such a friendship by allowing himself to think in new ways, surely there could be just as much benefit in making their alliance official.

Stoick caught himself stealing glances at his son and the Night Fury. They were actually the best asset they had in any discussion with a huge nest full of dragons. Spitelout and Freygerd were both looking equally determined yet hopeful. There was perhaps a bit more of a sly smile on Freygerd's lips as she dangled in her rope seat below her Gronckle. Deep in his gut, he knew this was going to be another important event in Berk's history.

Upon landing at the top of the mountain, where they'd fought to evict the new Red Death, they saw four dragons waiting for them. Two Nadders and two Zipplebacks sat casually before the opening of the enormous cave, watching them as they came down. Toothless gave a moderate roar before they actually touched ground and one of the Zipplebacks gurgled in response. Stoick slid carefully from Thorithr's saddle and stood close to her side. He was reminded of the first time his father, Rodmar the Hammerhand, let him join a village council. Looking at the participants, most of whom towered over him, the comparison was inevitable.

He dismissed such distractive thoughts and looked to Hiccup and Toothless. While he was the leader of Berk, they were the only means of communication between the two parties. The Night Fury stepped forward, Hiccup matching his strides but only to stay by his side. Toothless spoke and was answered by one of the Zipplebacks. Their conversation was calm and sometimes expressed in little more than soft grunts. At one point, the Fury extended a wing behind Hiccup to urge him to step forward. Stoick grinned at his son's uncertain expression. He was likely more concerned with performing well in front of his village elders. Surely the dragons didn't make him nervous.

A few moments of draconic chatting resulted in Toothless looking back at the rest of their team and motioning them with a toss of his head to step forward. Stoick was comforted by the way everyone appeared composed and curious. Any tension he might have expected simply wasn't present. Uncertainty and interest, yes, but he saw no sign of threat or distrust.

The Night Fury directed his attention to Stoick and once more motioned with his head for him to step forward. He nodded and moved to stand before his group. Looking up he saw six attentive faces, the Nadders cocking their heads to focus an eye solely on him.

He intuitively discarded the posturing and title-claiming he'd prepared to use in meeting with other Vikings. He couldn't imagine dragons caring one whit about any of that, assuming they could even understand it. "I am Stoick, the leader of the Vikings on Berk." He paused to consider his next words and heard Toothless translate for him. "My village and I want peace with the dragons." Another short pause for translation. "We wish to take an oath with you. It is a sacred, solemn promise to be your allies." The black dragon seemed to hesitate a moment, perhaps not having an exact way to express 'sacred' or 'solemn'. Who knew how such terms were expressed among dragons?

Did they know about the gods? Stoick now hesitated, wondering if dragons even cared about them. He shook his head slightly. It was a matter for later, if ever. He raised his hands to indicate the dragons that stood with them. "These dragons are our allies. We live together, help each other. We will never fight each other." That was expressed quickly and evidently prompted a question from one of the Nadders. Growls and grumbles were exchanged until an understanding (he hoped) had been reached. Quiet, attentive faces were turned once more to him. He held his hands out, encompassing the four dragons lounging before him. "Would you agree to take an oath with us, to be allies?"

Stoick forced himself to stay calm as this sparked some kind of debate among the dragons. He reassured himself that it wasn't bad that they needed to talk about the idea. They were, in fact, still quite calm during their discussion. The four dragon leaders referred to Toothless several times. The only thing that really bothered him was that the Fury seemed to lose a little confidence each time he gave an answer. Finally, all draconic eyes turned to Hiccup. Toothless drew out his metal writing stick and posed a question to his friend.

"Dragon and Viking stay same place all time." Hiccup's tone made it obvious he wasn't certain what was being asked.

Stoick looked to Freygerd and Spitelout. Neither of them seemed to understand exactly what the statement intended, either.

"Wait," he muttered, turning to the Fury. "This isn't about territory or boundaries. This is about fighting and cooperating. Being allies means we agree not to fight each other or take each other's food. Where we stay isn't important. If we stay in the village or we go somewhere else, we are still allies. Understand?"

Toothless became quite animated at that. His eyes grew large and he began chattering urgently with his counterparts from the other dragon nests. Then he apparently urged them to get closer as he started to draw in the sparse dust and dirt of the mountain's plateau. Once the other four dragons were huddled around him, the Fury drew one island, muttering to his audience as he went. He then drew small Vikings and dragons on one side of that island. On the other side, he drew more dragons, some small and others tiny.

"That's the nest on the north shore you mentioned," he asked his son.

"Yeah. The first batch of eggs has just hatched, too." Hiccup grinned. "You should see the babies. They're unbelievably cute."

"Cute," he deadpanned, fighting hard to keep the grin off his face.

Hiccup hesitated. "Well... yeah. You know. In sort of a..." He shrugged helplessly. "Kinda like baby yaks or boars are cute. Sort of."

Stoick let one corner of his mouth creep up and relished the slightly embarrassed smile that took over his son's face.

Next to the Berk island, Toothless drew the Red Death Island nest, complete with dragon parents and offspring. He looked up at all the dragons watching him, cut his eyes to Stoick and went about modifying his drawing. The Fury drew a circle around the village's end of Berk, grunting a single syllable. Another circle went around the northern nest, accompanied by a slightly different grunt. Red Death Island got the same treatment. Three groups, three circles. Toothless looked up at everyone else again before drawing a large, single circle around all three groups.

He then set down his drawing spike and placed his paws in the middle of the large circle and growled a long, drawn out sound. He looked up once more, making certain to catch each individual's eyes for a moment. In terms of explaining how an alliance would work, Stoick felt Toothless had done a very good job.

So did the other dragons, it seemed. They talked among themselves without any indication of objecting. Finally, the blue legged Nadder spoke directly to Toothless, followed by the predominantly yellow Zippleback. Looking pleased, Toothless picked up his spike and scratched words in the dirt. Stoick realized at that moment he would need to learn this written language he and Hiccup used. It was extremely helpful.

"Three nest make one nest," Hiccup read aloud. "One nest still three nest."

Stoick allowed himself a larger smile now. "Yes, that's the idea."

More Fury writing gave them the answer they'd hoped for. "Yes. Dragons want this. All one nest, stay same nest."

"Off to a good start," Freygerd said, beaming at him. Spitelout nodded thoughtfully, likely already thinking of what other details needed to be mentioned.

The dragons beat him to it.

The yellowish Zippleback spoke for several moments to its fellow dragons, after which they all stared silently at each other. When they turned their questioning gazes to Toothless, he lowered his head in thought. He started to write twice before he was able to clearly frame his thoughts.

"Protect," was all Hiccup said.

That had never entered Stoick's mind, not on this scale. He looked up at the dragons, wondering if he understood. He heard the same confusion from Spitelout and Freygerd.

"Do they mean..."

"Could they really..."

"Who protect," he asked directly of the dragons.

"All," Hiccup answered. "Dragon protect dragon, dragon protect Viking, Viking protect dragon."

Only the wind commented on the implications of such a statement, whispering softly among them. Stoick looked up, almost dreading the answer to his next question.

"Viking protect dragon... from what?"

No translation was needed for the answer. A circle with six dots. Stoick stared at it. He truly didn't know how he felt about such a request.

The Red Deaths had proven to be the bane of their shared existence. Allowing any more to settle was unacceptable. But to pledge Berk's warriors to such a battle felt dangerous. Hiccup and Toothless had outsmarted the first one. The dragons had somehow united themselves against the second one. Berk had yet to prove effective against such an enemy.

That wasn't the point, though. Stoick considered what was truly being requested: support. The dragons had been helpless until Hiccup and Toothless intervened. Berk had mounted a nearly successful attack against the second one until the dragons rallied. Regardless of how the odds stacked up, the point was the agreement of mutual support.

And the dragons wanted theirs.

Stoick blinked, suddenly staggered by the idea. Dragons were asking for a promise from Vikings not to ignore their nests in time of need. Dragons could easily aid Vikings in defending their home from invaders. As allies, Vikings could, and should, be willing to do the same.

He looked to Spitelout. His brother's face had darkened and he felt certain he knew why. He waited for him to work out his response. "I'd hate the idea of doing this a third time. But-" He looked up and around at the dragons sitting with them, discussing the benefits of a partnership on a large scale. "I think I'd rather, if it were necessary, than go back to the way things were. I just hope it doesn't come to that."

Stoick looked to Freygerd, who had a ready answer. "We've lived so long in ignorance. Think about how much more we could learn. Given enough time, we might discover a way to deal with a Red Death without so much loss of life, on either side."

He looked to his son, expecting to see satisfaction at their conclusions, even happiness. Hiccup was anything but. "What's wrong?"

"Dad." Hiccup's voice was muted and laced with worry. "I... this is..." He grimaced. "Suddenly I'm worried. I don't think it's enough. Not for the rest of the village." He turned his attention to the Fury. "Toothless told me that dragons always keep their oaths. But I'm afraid that won't be enough. Berk won't believe it, they won't trust it. It's not enough."

Stoick felt he could win enough support among the villagers with a few demonstrations using willing dragons to prove his point. But there was an undeniable element of truth in Hiccup's words. "Son..."

"No, this can't just be an oath." Hiccup seemed certain now, stronger in his tone and words. "This has to be the most important thing we've done as a village in our history." He took a deep breath and committed his belief to words. "This has to be a blood oath, taken by every single person in Berk."

Stoick stared as it sank in. Hiccup was going to change their world.

Again.

Featherstone was nervous. It was obvious from his scent, his voice and his small, twitching gestures. Two Hearts understood why the young preytooth was unsettled. He felt much the same way, for the same reasons.

They sat together on the solitary rock stack where Featherstone had first addressed him as a person. Two Hearts had brought them at Featherstone's request. His friend had wanted some time to settle his liver. The sun was slowly dropping to its rest, its warmth diminishing as cooler breezes tugged at them. The soothing sight of the endless waters seemed to help his friend deal with the rough airs they faced. For Two Hearts, such a view had occasionally caused him to wonder what lay beyond his sight. Now it caused him to wonder if the world beyond his sight was safe. The Great Eel had defined so much of his life before Featherstone. Her grounding had made that horizon seem appealing.

Then Smoketail changed his mind. Yellowbreath had asked the question: could there be more Gatherers beyond, waiting for a chance to settle in a free nest? Chewing on that question had led him to a Featherstone idea: join the nests. Then his flight mate had added even more lift with the notion of using strong words to bring the Kin within those nests together.

The ghostwing angled his head slightly, eyeing his flight mate. The young preytooth was tired as well as worried. They were both feeling the effects of trying to pull three nests together. It had surprised him a little that the First Hunters of both Fire Nest and Far Shore Nest had accepted the idea of cooperating, treating the three separate nests as one large nest.

There had been other ideas that had been harder to lift. Seeing Featherstone's reactions to the First Song at Far Shore had sparked those ideas. Two Hearts was becoming more and more convinced his flight mate's mind was influencing his own. Such thoughts could never have come to him without his friend's inspiring behavior.

Featherstone was sitting with his legs folded under him, pulling at the few tufts of greenery able to grow there. His foreclaws worked without his eyes knowing of their effort. He sniffed lightly, determining that his friend's state was declining. The peaceful location he'd sought out hadn't calmed his mind at all. Two Hearts gently laid his wing joint on Featherstone's shoulder and grunted, "Good?"

The preytooth's eyes met his, the concern easy to see on his expressive face. "I... are you... worried? About what will happen tonight?"

"Yes." How could he not be?

"No Teeth..." His eyes lost their focus for an instant before some new thought took a strong hold of him. "You told me once that you have your own name. A better one than No Teeth."

His opinion of 'better' left aside, he nodded.

Featherstone's foreclaw came up and lightly touched his neck. "What is your name? Your real name?"

Two Hearts thought a moment on how to explain. The easiest way was to curl one paw to his own chest, then make a simple mark on the ground before him. Then he cautiously touched Featherstone's chest and made another mark next to the first. He circled both marks, placed his paw on top and spoke his name. Unfortunately that wasn't quite enough.

He took out his metal stick and drew pictures instead. The outline of a ghostwing was easy by now. He drew a small circle in its center. He tapped the circle and spoke half of his name. Then he drew a skinny, one legged preytooth with its own circle inside. He tapped the circle, then Featherstone's chest.

The preytooth seemed skeptical of his own understanding as he hesitantly said, "Heart?"

"Yes, yes!"

Looking back at his drawings, he drew a line from the circles within the figures to a point between them. There he drew two small circles next to each other. He set down his metal stick, placed his paw upon the circles and spoke his name. Lastly he placed that same paw upon his own chest and said his name again.

He could see the realization rush through the preytooth's mind. Featherstone's eyes widened and he held his breath a moment. He looked up at the ghostwing, almost as if he'd never seen a Kin up close before. His voice was strained and quivered slightly.

"Two... Hearts?"

He crooned and lightly touched his nose to Featherstone's forehead. "Yes." Pulling back to look at him, he saw the preytooth's expression dim a bit. Thoughts were churning within that round head.

"Your name is... Two Hearts?"

He nodded. "Yes."

"Two Hearts." His mouth moved briefly to show happiness, then confusion. "Who... who gave you that name?"

"Two Hearts," he answered proudly.

Featherstone paused, thinking it through. "You gave yourself that name?"

"Yes."

The preytooth looked down at the two distorted circles now resting within the heavier mark of his paw print. He reached out to lay his foreclaw flat upon the symbol of his name. He looked back up, his eyes bright and searching. "You gave yourself that name... after we met?"

An unexpected flare of heat filled his liver. The significance of changing his flight name to reflect Featherstone's influence on his life wasn't lost on his friend. In some way, the little preytooth understood. He nodded slowly and uttered a quiet, drawn out, "Yessss."

Featherstone stared at the new name symbol for a while, saying nothing more. He touched the marks again, barely letting his slim digits meet the ground. Nothing was said yet he looked concerned. Two Hearts waited patiently.

"Did you know it was me? Did you-" His foreclaw lifted and curled into itself, shaking slightly. "Did you know it was me who grounded you? Before I told you?"

Two Hearts reached with his forepaw and gently lifted his chin until their eyes met. "Yes." He saw the tiniest flinch at the answer.

His friend's voice faded to a whisper. "How did you know?"

That took more work to explain. He picked up his writing stick and put it in the simplest terms. [you say when you find me] He remembered hearing Featherstone's approach and being too despondent to react. The preytooth had put his foot on his foreleg and declared, 'I grounded this great beast.'

Featherstone was still troubled. "Why did you not kill me when you could?"

Two Hearts knew. But he'd never explained it to his flight mate, only to other Kin. It took a moment to work through his thoughts and mark them in the dirt.

[you say you kill me - you not do - you smell like lot fear] He paused to work out his next words. [you free me - you fear me why you free me - I lot mad but I know] He waited a moment for his flight mate to catch all the words before he wiped them away and continued. [you see you do bad - you much fear but free me] He fondly recalled those brain-twisting days of learning more about preytooths than any Kin ever had. [I ground - tail no good - you come feed me - you feed me and feed me - you want be close - you want touch ] A swipe of his paw once more cleared the dirt for more words. [you help me - you get me dead tail - you get me off ground]

He looked at his flight mate a moment, seeing the preytooth was easily following the path of his story.

[you want fix bad - you know you do bad to me - try much hard to fix] Two Hearts had to stop a moment and nuzzle the top of Featherstone's head in appreciation. [I see you good preytooth - I stop not like you - I start much like you - you much good to me - now you all good for me - no good not with you]

Featherstone stared a moment before wrapping his thin arms around his foreleg and pressing his head against his shoulder. Fear leaked into this scent, giving him doubts. "Featherstone. What?"

"What if our ideas don't work? What will we do?"

Two Hearts hadn't spent a single moment thinking about what could happen if they failed in joining the nests. Most likely nothing would change. Or would it? Might the preytooths see a threat in the joining of Far Shore and Fire Nest? And what of those Kin living in the preytooth nest? He couldn't see the answers, but he thought perhaps he could understand his flight mate's fears.

"Sire says I must talk to preytooth nest, make them see our ideas will work. What if I do it wrong? What if I make it worse?" He suddenly raised his head, his expressive face creased with worry. "What if we have to leave, like we were going to before?"

Two Hearts refused to accept such an outcome now. "No."

"But if things get bad-"

"No. Not go."

He could see Featherstone's liver was torn. His flight mate took warmth from Two Hearts' reassurance but he couldn't drive out the fear. "I don't know what's going to happen to us."

Two Hearts knew. [us stay us]

Featherstone said nothing else. He simply leaned against the ghostwing's shoulder and stared out at the darkening waters.

He sniffed delicately at his flight mate. Fear and doubt were gnawing at his liver despite Two Hearts' words. He could recall such a moment in his own youth. He'd made a mistake on his third ranging, seeing several approaching Kin as rivals rather than the members of his own nest they actually were. He'd nearly fired on them before being convinced of the truth. The shame of it had kept him in his egg nest for many days while his dam tried to soothe his worries.

The ghostwing glanced down at his flight mate, feeling as strong a connection as he imagined his dam felt for him. They were Kin and kin, truly. He once more nuzzled the top of Featherstone's head and sang his dam's Song for him.

'New wings

spread wide

wind's breath

black sky

white moon

stars cry

Nest calls

glide high

wide world

drifts by

mate's love

mate's pride'

Featherstone looked up at him, confusion and wonderment replacing the fear. His jaw moved; his words wanted escape but were unable to force their way out. Eventually he was able to whisper, "I wish..." But he couldn't finish the thought. Two Hearts understood. It did no good to wish for impossible things. That didn't mean that they couldn't fight for their nests, though. He was as determined as ever to help give their ideas the lift they deserved.

Featherstone gripped his foreleg tighter, pressing his forehead against his shoulder. Two Hearts wrapped his wing around him and hugged him back.

Hiccup was starting to really understand and he hated it.

The village was gathering as dusk approached. The crackle of torch fires and the light, tentative calls of the evening's first night bird songs were drowned in a tide of muttering from those already standing in the gathering circle. Looking out at all the familiar faces of those whose minds he had to change made his stomach want to cramp. Waiting for the moment when he would attempt to present his village's future was worse than any possible fight he could imagine. His first days of dragon training hadn't filled him with the dull, aching almost-nausea that he felt now. It was easy to imagine charging at a foe and letting a clash of weapons decide things could be preferable, rather than waiting around for a chance to win an argument.

While he could understand the average Viking's inclination to swing an axe rather than listen to a speech, Hiccup also knew his only chance to fix Berk's problems for good was to use his mind. In the calm moments of the day, he'd felt a fair amount of confidence. Now faced with so many people whose opinions he needed to 'fight' and 'vanquish', he felt his doubts climbing up his throat and threatening to steal his voice. He raised a hand to his neck and brushed his fingers across the decorative stitching that circled his throat. With his old tunic pretty much destroyed he had started wearing the one given to him by Astrid's mother. The circle of Night Fury eyes that went around his neck gave him a strange sense of comfort.

A heavy yet gentle hand fell upon his shoulder and he felt his spine impulsively straighten. Another weight balanced itself upon the opposite side, a wing joint that pressed lightly upon his shoulder and against his neck. With Stoick and Tooth... Two Hearts by his side, the doubts were forced to subside. He tried to convince himself he wasn't alone in his task.

But deep down, he knew he was. It would be his voice that won an alliance this night. Or failed to.

Villagers were surging into the circle now, a tide of faces and voices and questioning eyes. Hiccup tried to focus on the amount of curiosity being expressed rather than the obvious spots of distrust and skepticism. Rumors had been circulating and clashing already, priming Berk for Hiccup's sally against ignorance. Stoick had done nothing to influence the debates. He never did. Berk knew their chief would let the people form their own opinions before speaking on any major discussion or proclamation. Before making most decisions with wide spread consequences, he would allow dissent to rise and be heard so that he could address it. It helped to keep dissatisfaction and feelings of exclusion from festering.

Hiccup stole a glance at Too...Two Hearts. It was hard to get used to thinking of his real name. The Fury had been absent much of the past few days, presenting their newest ideas to the rest of the dragon population as best he could. He'd given Hiccup his assurance that most of the dragons understood what would happen this night. Much of the Fury's recent hard work had been to help them understand and accept what was expected of them.

If he correctly understood what Two Hearts had told him, the dragons had more trouble dealing with comprehending their side of the bargain than accepting it. They apparently didn't value 'work' the same way Vikings did. They also seemed to have few, if any, symbolic gestures they used among themselves. Quickly teaching a few important Viking gestures in preparation for this evening had been a bit trying for the Fury. Fortunately, most of the dragons were willing to learn. Those few who weren't, he'd been told, would have no reason to interfere with them. He'd tried to get a general count of how many dragons would be on their side but it had been fruitless. Dragon minds simply didn't work along those lines. The only words scratched in the ashes to answer him had been [many many].

Stoick shifted next to him, gazing at the crowd before them. It was unlikely there would be any stragglers to this gathering. Berk's chief stepped forward to the stone capped mound from which they would speak. The effect was almost immediate. Every eye faced him, every mouth closed on conversation. He nodded to them in collective gratitude. He took a large breath.

"You all know what's happened." The slight emphasis he put on 'know' did not go unnoticed. Nor did his long pause afterward. His eyes searched the crowd and he waited.

"There was another battle with the dragons!" Hiccup couldn't find or identify the man who shouted it, but that was irrelevant.

"It was another Red Death!" a woman piped up.

"The dragons turned on us!" There was considerable venom in that statement. Stoick did not react.

"They betrayed us!"

'Betrayed' was an interesting word to use and Hiccup wished he could find who had said it. The clamor grew for a few moments until Stoick raised his hands.

"Some of you are right. Most of you are wrong. We're here to tell you we have the truth of it now." He leaned forward slightly. "The full truth." Straightening, he added, "Truth is often like medicine, a bitter draught that you want to spit out. But once it's in you, once you let it do its work, you will all be better off for it."

That was a common saying he used when resolving fierce disputes. Most had heard it directly or in the gossip that followed his judgments. Stoick raised his hand, back toward Hiccup. He stepped forward to stand with his father. Two Hearts, he noticed, stayed where he was.

"Hiccup will lead when I'm gone." He blinked in sudden alarm at the words but couldn't react before Stoick continued. "I'm now convinced of his abilities. These truths are his to tell." He paused again, leaning forward once more. "You will listen to him, you will hear him." The directive was plain enough and received silently. Straightening, he continued. "He will help you understand these truths. As he helped me to understand them."

When Stoick stepped back a bit, Hiccup hesitated. It took a moment to process the endorsement his father had just given him. But he had work to do. Hiccup cleared his throat, stepped forward to the edge of the mound and spoke before the doubts could take hold.

"I've learned new things about the dragons since last autumn, things you probably won't believe. I also learned things about the Red Death, things that explain all that's happened here in Berk between us and the dragons."

"Speak up! We can't hear you!"

Hiccup frowned. He didn't have his father's commanding voice and shouting would make his throat raw in moments. He huffed and projected his voice as clearly and loudly as he could. "Of all the things I've learned about dragons, there is one that will change Berk forever. The best way I know to explain it is with one of Freygerd's stories."

As he'd hoped, this was favorably received. Folks loved good stories and Freygerd's were always interesting.

"Who remembers the story of Sigmund and the mountain monsters?" An encouraging chorus of 'aye's answered him. "Sigmund was sailing in unknown waters, looking for new lands to conquer. He came to a place with a huge mountain right by the shore. He landed and found a little empty village. It had been abandoned for a long time, but all the houses were decorated with gold and jewels."

Someone called out, "I always wanted to find that place when I was a lad!"

Hiccup smiled and nodded, encouraged for the moment. "Sigmund looked further and found a mine dug into the mountain. Thinking he might find even more treasure, he went inside. Instead he found a lot of short, ugly but powerful creatures digging in the dark. He had a torch but they weren't used to the light and they cringed in fear of him. He eventually learned that the monsters he found used to be Vikings. They had found treasure in the mountain and dug the mine. Over time they left their village and lived in the mine. They changed into hideous monsters that were better at digging than fighting." He raised his hand, one finger extended. "But, they could still speak. They still had minds. They also recognized a warrior when they saw one. Sigmund made friends with them."

He turned to beckon Two Hearts and his friend stepped up to his side, looking out at the crowd.

"I have learned that dragons are just like those mountain monsters. Despite the way they look, they have minds. They have a language they can speak to each other. They have feelings just like we do." He saw expressions turning, brows furrowing. Expecting it, having in fact planned for it, he finally made the statement that would alter his village for good. "The most important truth I bring tonight is that dragons are people!"

Then, using his father's example, he waited.

Oddly, Hiccup felt tremendous encouragement from the slow reaction to his statement. He wasn't immediately shouted down. He wasn't mercilessly ridiculed. He did notice that many were looking between himself and his father, trying to grasp what had been said to them. No doubt Stoick's opening words were the biggest reason that his statement was answered with confused mutterings instead of immediate rejection.

He saw one man move from the middle of the crowd toward the front. Hiccup's confidence took a hit when Hogknee Vapnfjord came to stand directly in front of him. Perhaps he should have expected it, given the reaction the man had to the news of his son's disappearance and Bitequick's death. There was nothing positive showing on his face. When he spoke, there was a terrible, black bitterness in his voice that marked him as a man who'd lost too much.

"Do you take us for fools, boy? You think we're blind? You expect us to forget what dragons have done to us for YEARS?!"

Hiccup knew someone would give him the opening he would need. He hadn't expected it to be Hogknee, but it ultimately didn't matter. He and Two Hearts would answer the man's questions in a way that would be talked about long after they were all dead.

Projecting his voice once more, Hiccup answered. "No, I don't think you're fools. I think you're fierce Viking warriors who want proof your former enemies will no longer challenge you." He patted Two Hearts on the neck.

The Night Fury raised his blunt muzzle to the sky, opened his maw and drew breath. The bright blue shot streaked up a ways before it dissolved into a blossom of brilliant red and orange flames. The changing colors washed over countless upturned faces still showing confusion. As one, they lowered to look at him when he announced, "Everyone, be calm! The dragons are coming. They're bringing the proof you require."

As promised, the sound of wings could be heard. It quickly grew as large bodies filled the air, outlined in torch light and collecting around the gathering circle to land at its outskirts. No roars or growls, no chittering or flames accompanied their descent. It went on for some time. The sound of wings was accented by the low thundering rumble of heavy talons striking the ground. Eventually, all was stillness.

Hiccup was prepared for this event as well. He knew having hundreds of dragons essentially surround the entire village would not be easily tolerated. He shouted before any panic could erupt. His voice was already straining a bit but this was the critical moment. This was his first chiefly act.

"Villagers of Berk! I am Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third! I am the voice of the dragons, who have no voice of their own! On this night I stand before you and before all the gods to tell you what the dragons cannot say in our tongue! They want peace with Berk!"

He paused, giving his voice a rest and letting the situation sink in. He couldn't wait long but he wanted those gathered to realize that no immediate violence was forthcoming. The slightest stirrings began among the population and he shouted again to keep the momentum in his favor.

"The second important thing I learned about dragons is that they understand forgiveness! They understand that we have been enemies longer than any of us have been alive! They know this is a terrible-' He coughed, cleared his throat and resumed. "A terrible burden we have all lived with! They know this is a difficult thing to ask of you! But they have come here tonight to ask for Berk's forgiveness!" He glanced at Two Hearts, who gave a loud screeching call.

The mutterings were briefly quelled and silent amazement took its place as several hundred dragons lowered their heads to the villagers of Berk. One of the major hurdles he'd feared was Two Hearts' ability to explain the importance of such a simple action to Vikings. The Fury had succeeded and Hiccup was buoyed by the effectiveness of it. Even his friend stood with his snout toward the ground.

Hiccup's eyes were drawn toward the sight of so many dragons bowing their heads. Like the rest of the village, he found the sight compelling. No one could have foreseen such a thing last autumn. Even after the battle, having their former enemies show such a clear sign of respect was unimaginable. When he'd worked on the idea with Two Hearts, he hadn't realized how powerful a gesture it would be.

But not, unfortunately, to everyone.

"They killed my wife!"

His father had warned him against a quickly won argument. He was glad he'd listened. Expecting resistance at every step allowed him to hear such a vehement rejection without fearing his cause lost.

"They killed my boy!"

"They burned my house! Three times!"

They were voices in the dark until someone near the front of the crowd joined in. "My Tomund died in my arms, burned to death!" Fenna, his widow, had never fully accepted the peace. She had always glared at the dragons while she mended nets for coins to feed her young daughter.

More mutterings and outcries, angry and full of memory. The dragons didn't move. Hogknee pointed to Hiccup, accusation thick in his tone.

"They're vicious animals! This is just one of your dragon taming tricks!"

"NO!" And for an instant Hiccup was amazed that his voice didn't break. He pointed back at Hogknee, determined to defend their allies. "That's what's been between us all this time! Lack of knowledge!" He raised his head and swept the crowd with his gaze. "The third important thing I have learned about the dragons is that they have a terrible weakness! That weakness is... THE RED DEATH!"

He took a breath and tried to clear his throat again, a single cough threatening to explode into a fit. He felt a tap at his elbow and was relieved to see his father offering a small skin of water. With a grateful smile, he soothed his throat, closed the skin and went back to work.

"A Red Death has a smell that makes dragons think it's young or injured. They can't help how they react to it. All they can do is protect it and feed it. That's why they had to raid us."

Hogknee's anger was overrun by incredulity. "A smell? A SMELL?!"

"Yes! That's how it controls them."

Incredulity faded and disgust took over, paired with the anger it had displaced. "That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard, even from you!" Stoick frowned but held his peace. "How can you expect me to believe something so ridiculous?"

"Because it's the truth!"

"Just because you want it to be true doesn't mean it is! You're just trying to protect a bunch of animals because one of them is your friend!" Hogknee turned to the crowd around him, which had been largely silent during their exchange. "I'll not trust dragons in the village! Sooner or later there will be burnt houses and burnt Vikings!"

He knew Hogknee was angry at the loss of his son, but it seemed he'd also forgotten everything good about Bitequick. Jaspin's trusted friend had been a boon to both the boy and his father. Frustrated at the fisherman's stubbornness, Hiccup struggled to find an argument that could sway him. His eyes caught those of one of Hogknee's friends standing nearby and he remembered something he'd considered earlier.

"Do you trust Grumblemud?"

Hogknee slowly turned; confusion was plain on his face. "What?"

"I said, 'do you trust Grumblemud?'" He pointed to the man who was standing a small distance from Hogknee. Grumblemud took exception and muttered, "Hey."

"What's that got to do-"

"Do you trust him?"

"Aye."

"Do you trust him when he's drunk?"

Grumblemud took even greater exception. "Hey!"

Hogknee scowled at him. "You're not making any sense."

"A Red Death has a scent that dragons can't help reacting to, just like Grumblemud can't help wanting to fight when he's drunk. When he's drunk, do you stop trusting him?"

The fisherman hesitated. "No."

"What if he was always drunk?"

"This doesn't make sense! What's this-"

Anger and desperation took hold of Hiccup and he shouted, "What if Grumblemud was always drunk, always wanting to fight!? Would you trust him then!?"

Hogknee gave no answer.

"Would you?"

With a sullen glance at the friend in question, he finally answered, "No."

"What if only the smell of ale was enough to make Grumblemud drunk?" Once more Hiccup waved a hand at the man. "Think of it! Grumblemud grows up in Berk, always smelling ale and always drunk and always wanting to punch your face in. Every time you turn around he's kicking your sheep or throwing rocks at people or setting fire to houses. How much do you trust him then? Could you trust him at all?"

Again he was given no answer. He continued on anyway.

"So Grumblemud is constantly smelling ale, constantly drunk, constantly fighting. No one trusts him. He's a problem for the whole village." He pointed to himself. "Then one day, Hiccup the twig discovers what no one knew about Grumblemud. Hiccup gets rid of all the ale-"

The outcry to that notion far outstripped anything given concerning the smell of certain dragons. Hiccup rolled his eyes.

"HICCUP GETS RID OF ALL THE ALE AND SUDDENLY GRUMBLEMUD ISN'T DRUNK ANYMORE!" He coughed several times and had to take a few swigs from the water skin. Folks started to settle down. "Without the smell of ale around him all the time, he stops causing fights and stops causing problems." He nodded to the man in question. "Now he's just Grumblemud, a guy you can get to know and like. As long as there's no ale near him, he's completely normal and trustworthy. Get it?"

Hogknee simply wouldn't accept it, at least not now, in public. He stared darkly at Hiccup but could offer no more arguments.

"As bad as they were, the dragons were never really the problem. They were a symptom of the problem. The problem is the Red Deaths."

A man standing near Hogknee whose name he couldn't remember asked nervously, "Are you saying there're more of them out there?"

Hiccup glanced at Two Hearts, then his father. Remembering to project his voice, he answered, "I'm saying we can't let another one take hold of that nest. The dragons don't want one in their nest. They want to be our friends instead. Without a Red Death, they get to enjoy their life and so do we. But they need our help."

"Help." Hogknee's skepticism wasn't quite as strong as it had been. He pointed at Hiccup, then Two Hearts. "You killed the last one, they killed this one. What do they need our help for?"

"Support. They're asking that we not ignore them if another Red Death comes to their nest. They will try to drive it off if they can, but if they can't... we do our best to help."

An uneasy silence filled the circle. Hiccup had no doubts they were all weighing the odds of what he'd revealed to them and how well they stacked up in their favor.

The man beside Hogknee, whose name he now remembered as Halldor asked, "What do we get in return for this help?"

"Their help." Hiccup raised his hands to indicate the entire village. "Doing anything they can to make life easier for us. Help with fishing, hunting, hauling timber, raising houses..." He paused as a new idea came to him. "Plowing. I could make a plow that they could pull when it's time to plant." He turned the thought over in his mind, trying to figure it out. Then he shook his head, setting all that aside. "Anyway, there are a lot of things they can do for us. And no more raids, ever."

He suddenly noticed Hogknee was shaking his head, his hands balled into fists at his side. His eyes glinted with more than anger. "You want me to forget everything I've lost, everything they've taken from me."

Jaspin's face came to him, his quiet words asking, "Do you love Toothless?" The memory was a sharp ache that reminded him exactly how much Hogknee had lost. Without hesitation he stepped down off the mound to stand next to the fisherman. He was a full head shorter than him and he had to look up to meet his wary expression. Behind him he heard Two Hearts move closer but remain on the stone above.

"They..." Hiccup wanted to speak directly from his heart. But in the hours they'd spent talking about what he needed to do, and more specifically what he needed to avoid, Stoick had warned him against opening himself fully. Balance was the key, matched with honesty. He quickly reconsidered what he'd wanted to say and took a slightly different approach. "They're asking us to understand that they couldn't stop what happened. They didn't want to hurt us, or steal from us or kill us. They did these things against their will because their will was not strong enough to fight the Red Death's control. And because of their weakness, their nest suffered and Berk suffered. They know this and they accept it." He pointed at the ring of dragons surrounding them. "That's why they are asking for our forgiveness."

Hogknee stared sullenly at him for a long moment. A few quiet mutterings from the edge of the crowd reached him as folks wondered what was being quietly discussed. He wasn't even aware of when the sound first reached his ears. But the low hum slowly grew in strength until all those around him noticed it.

Hiccup turned to see Two Hearts staring directly at Hogknee. His mouth was slightly parted, his healed gums glistening faintly in the flickering torchlight. The effect of the Night Fury's vocalization was immediate and wide spread. It gathered strength as those dragons nearest him raised their heads, opened their mouths and joined him. A swelling tide of low, clear sound grew around them. It wasn't bestial, nor was it a simple reaction. It was a powerful, purposeful note that seemed to fill the space between every body standing in the gathering circle.

The dragons sang.

The simple melody Freygerd had offered Hiccup while he lay blind was sung for all of Berk. However else the rest of the village experienced it, Hiccup stood awestruck as the song filled the air with undeniable evidence of a deep mourning. He couldn't have spoken if he'd wanted to, nor did he hear any words given by anyone else. As the tune was hummed he could feel the strength of the dragon's voices; it seemed to make the very air tremble in sympathy. His throat closed as he realized how important this moment was. Beyond his words and his plans, this felt like the most solid bridge that could be built between the two sides. It was a bridge constructed of air and sound and was strong enough to hold them all, if they chose to accept it.

As the last notes were hummed the dragon's voices faded to silence. Hiccup looked around and saw wide eyes and open mouths. It hadn't been part of his plan; he spent a brief moment wondering if Two Hearts had not told him of his intentions or if he had seen an opportunity and seized it. Regardless of how it had come about, he saw the perfect moment to press home his final, crucial notion. He had to act immediately.

Turning back to the stone-capped mound, he realized he wasn't in a position to easily climb back up, even with his 'outdoor' foot locked in position. A quiet grunt from above him got him to look up. Two Hearts was crouching at the edge of the stone, leaning forward and extending a paw. Hiccup grinned, silently praising his friend's choice. He reached up and made a fist so the Fury's claws could grip him securely. Once he was gently pulled back up to his place, he glanced at his father. He was buoyed by the calm optimism he saw there. Turning back to the crowd he did his best to use the momentum the dragons had given him.

"Dragons have much in common with us. They are a proud people. They're fierce warriors, protective of their families and friends. They know the pointless war we fought for generations is over and needs to stay that way." Deliberately imitating the gesture his father had used, Hiccup pointed back at him. "Our chief, Stoick the Vast, has already made an alliance with the leaders of the dragons. There will be no more fighting or theft between us." He let that sink in. Rumors about such an act had come back with Einarr but had sounded too absurd to be widely accepted.

"But an alliance is not enough! Not if another Red Death should try to take over their nest again!" He took a quick sip of water to fortify his voice during the revelation of his plan for Berk. "If dragons and Vikings are going to live in peace then every dragon must be committed to us! And we must be committed to every dragon!"

Hiccup turned to Two Hearts and nodded. The black dragon reared up on his hind legs, spread his wings for balance and shrieked a long, tremulous note. Falling back to all fours, he looked toward Gobber's smithy. All eyes followed his as another set of wings could be heard.

An undersized Nightmare worked his way to the center of the gathering. It was the dragon that had met with Hiccup not long ago, bringing news of the Red Death's invasion. It had once borne Anvindr on his back and was now Tuffnut's close companion. The male twin, ignorant of his partner's role in all that was happening, could only gawp like everyone else at what the dragon carried.

With so many bodies pressed close, it took a moment for enough space to clear for him to land. The object he dropped landed heavily, ringing like a bell and tipping slightly before settling. It was a sturdy metal basin, large enough for three people to stand in and deep enough to bathe a young child. Four sturdy legs had been welded to the sides for stability. In all, it was not that unusual an object except for two striking features. One was the remaining triple bladed metal arrow Astrid had brought back from their most recent battle. Like the legs, it was also welded to the side of the basin. Its shaft was bent so that the wickedly sharp point was roughly over the basin's center.

The second was the runes painted on the side of it. Hiccup had wanted a metal plaque but Gobber barely had enough time to create the basin. In bright red paint were the words, 'Bound by blood, joined in honor'.

Relieved of his burden, the smallish Nightmare settled himself among the other dragons ringing the villagers.

Hiccup could tell some few of those who could see the basin he'd designed and read the runes on the side were starting to grasp where he was headed. It worried him that while many of those present expressed confusion, an equal amount showed dismay or rejection. He'd done well so far but if his final idea failed to take hold...

"Stoick, Spitelout, Freygerd and I have spoken to the leaders of the dragons. We asked them if they understood what an oath is. They do. We asked them if they understood what it means to break an oath." He glanced briefly at Two Hearts, a brief smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. "They do. With this common knowledge between us, it was agreed that the dragon nests and Berk would become partners, bound by a blood oath."

That was too much. The uproar came from the majority of the villagers, even those who'd been willing to give dragons the benefit of the doubt after the first battle. The anger of those who still wanted nothing to do with them was frightful. Hiccup held himself still, trying not to look as shaken as he felt. The longer the outcry went on the more he feared he had completely undone all the progress he'd made that night.

Eventually the clamor died down enough for Hogknee's enraged question to be heard.

"An' what if we don't WANT to take your oath?"

Hiccup's voice withered away. He couldn't look away from the fury that seemed to bubble and smoke in Hogknee's eyes. If he spoke, it would all be ruined. The idea he'd had, which had been thoroughly embraced by the dragons, would be rejected. All the work they'd done and all the progress they'd made would vanish as if they'd never existed.

He'd discussed this with his father, who'd then asked those that had gone to Red Death Island to discuss their ideas with the dragons. All had agreed, with the understanding that it would be, as Stoick had said, a very bitter medicine to swallow. They had promised to back him when he explained to the village. He'd known there would be resistance. But this almost made him want to reconsider the whole proposal.

Just as Hiccup's iron foot slid back a half-step, Stoick's hand settled once more on his shoulder. A heartbeat later his companion's paw delicately clasped the opposite one. He closed his eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath. He had to do this. It was the only way. Even if it went badly, it still had to be done.

Grab the cup, slug the medicine down and hope for the best.

Hiccup raised his head and stared directly at Hogknee. In his loudest voice he answered. "This only works if the dragons are dedicated to Berk and we are dedicated to them. Only a blood oath can bind us. Anyone who cannot accept this will jeopardize the peace. Therefore, those who do not take the oath must leave Berk."

Hiccup fully expected riot. What they got was a village struck speechless. Gaping mouths and unblinking eyes were everywhere. It couldn't hold forever. He braced himself. He was more than a little ashamed at the relief he felt when those eyes started breaking from him and turning to his father. A swelling of quiet words rose up to them, mostly 'What' and 'Serious' and 'Leave.'

The spell was broken by two shouted words from near the back of the gathering. "End this!" Another body forced its way to the front. Einarr came to stand next to Hogknee, putting his hand on his shoulder to support him just as Hiccup's father and friend did for him. "There's no need for these childish games. If the dragons want peace, let them make it amongst themselves. We don't need to be involved."

"Yes we do," Hiccup blurted loudly. "Pretending the problem doesn't exist won't fix anything! You can't win a battle by ignoring it!"

Throwing what amounted to a Viking truism in Einarr's face didn't earn him any respect. He hated having to argue with the huntsman who had helped protect him from Anvindr's blade, but the problem was bigger than both of them. It was, in fact, bigger than Berk or the nests. Einarr gave him a disdainful look before addressing the chief.

"So it's to be a forced oath or exile, is it? You really want to bind us to these creatures? That seems like a Viking solution to you?"

Stoick stared calmly at Einarr. He'd promised to let Hiccup do as much of the talking as possible. He'd also promised to make it clear which side he was on. Since standing next to him now wasn't enough for the huntsman, he voiced his position with clear authority.

"For generations we have fought the dragons." Hiccup envied him his powerful voice. Surely even those at the back of the crowd could hear him. "For generations we tried the Viking solution. We bled and suffered and died doing so. We tried and tried and tried to kill them all, to DRIVE THEM OUT!" He paused, slowly scanning the crowd. "We always failed."

Only silence answered him. No one could deny his words.

"Hiccup has tried to understand the dragons." He deliberately looked over at his son and the admittedly magnificent dragon standing next to him. He nodded to both before looking directly at Einarr and Hogknee.

"He's succeeding."

Now there were scattered words, but only a few, softly voiced.

"I have agreed to the terms Hiccup has explained. This peace must hold." He gestured to the basin. "This oath will serve. I believe the dragons will honor it." Stoick lifted his head slightly, daring anyone to challenge him. No one did. "Berk will finally thrive."

Shock held most voices mute. With a final sweeping glance over the entire gathering, Stoick stepped back a bit, letting Hiccup resume his work. He wasn't sure where they stood, exactly. With most folks struggling with the scope of what they'd just been told, it could be some time before a consensus came to light. There was only one thing left to do: the act itself.

Feeling he needed at least a little flourish to help push his idea forward, Hiccup pulled his dagger from his belt and held it aloft as if it were a mighty sword. The gesture certainly got his audience's attention, but he considered himself to be pushing his luck if he didn't regain the momentum he'd had earlier.

"I am here tonight to be the voice of the dragons. I intend to always be the voice of the dragons. I have decided that as such, I cannot take the oath as a Viking." Hiccup left out the obvious rejection many would have to that idea regardless of his claim. "Instead, I will be the first to take the oath for the dragons." He laid the blade of his knife against the open palm of his opposite hand. "I, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the third, give my blood to seal my oath, before the eyes of the gods and all who stand here with me! I will never harm, hinder or kill anyone who joins me in this oath! I do this for the good of all Berk, both Viking and dragon!"

Hiccup stepped down once more, keeping his grasp on the blade of his knife. Standing next to the basin, he glanced briefly at Einarr and Hogknee. They said nothing but were watching him closely, as if expecting him to balk at the last moment. Considering he'd never cut his own flesh intentionally, the chance to prove them wrong in their expectations helped him commit the deed. He separated his hands, dragging the blade of his knife along the lower edge of his palm. Both his arms jerked in reaction to the bright stab of pain. He managed to turn the movement into a lowering of his arms into the basin. Those nearest could actually hear the patter of blood hitting the bottom.

There was a warmth in his belly that had nothing to do with seeing a tiny puddle of his blood collect below him. It came from the fact that he was the first to commit this act. If their plans succeeded, Berk's history would remember him for this. At least he could imagine the children in the crowd might tell their own grandchildren of this moment, seeing him take the oath even before the chief or the village elder.

Or perhaps they might instead remember Two Hearts moving off the mound to stand next to him. The Night Fury moved gradually, letting those closest make space for him. Looking down into the basin, he lowered his head and sniffed lightly at the first offering for the oath. Those immense eyes then turned toward Hiccup, blinking slowly at his friend, watching him sheath his knife and wrap his cut hand with a rag he'd brought for that purpose. A low, rough rumble came from deep within the dark dragon. Two Hearts nuzzled his ear briefly and quietly said, "Hiccup. Good."

Turning to those around them, Two Hearts placed his forepaws on the sturdy rim of the basin and rose up, putting himself at eye level with most of the people surrounding them. He spoke in his own tongue, slowly and calmly. The last words he uttered were spoken while staring directly at Einarr and Hogknee. There was no malice in his tone or expression. Then he looked at the tip of the arrow, waiting patiently for him.

Without any hesitation the Fury raised his foreleg and pressed his paw against the point of the arrow until several inches were embedded in his flesh. He didn't react to the puncture; no sound, no flinch, nothing. When he withdrew it, a thick, dark fluid began dripping into the basin. He held his paw up for all to see the blood of a Night Fury join that of his young friend.

When enough had been shed, Toothless put his paw to the ground and pressed it hard to stop the bleeding. The two shared a long look, pleased beyond measure to have the moment they had planned and worked for behind them. Hiccup made his way back to the mound, getting a boost from behind from Two Heart's broad crown. He turned back toward the crowd, holding up his bandaged hand. "Every child and hatchling born after this day will take the oath. They'll be taught the value of preserving it, of protecting our friends." There were a few faint mutters from the crowd and Hiccup reacted instantly, shouting in response, "Of preserving the peace!" The voices dwindled to nothing. "They'll be shown the value of working together to watch for any other Red Deaths that try to take over the dragon colony." He lowered his hand and asked, "Who will be the first of the Vikings to accept the bond?"

It was no surprise to him when Stoick immediately moved forward. Their plan was in motion now, having cleared what Hiccup believed to be the biggest obstacle. He watched with swelling pride as his father drew his own small dagger.

"I am Stoick the Vast. My family has always led Berk with pride and honor. I take this blood oath knowing it is the best way to secure our prosperity. We will see no more thin winters, living off what the dragons failed to steal. We will bury no more young, killed in useless fighting. We will gain such strength with our new allies that no matter what enemy comes at us in the future, it will regret ever challenging us. Before Berk and all the gods, I give my blood!"

He was immediately followed by Thorithr, who carefully strode up to the basin. She seemed slightly nervous but a few grumbled words from Two Hearts reassured her. Her words were croaked, chirped and trilled before a simple flick of her wing against the arrow point opened one of the major vessels that ran over its bony joint. She held the wing over the basin and watched in seeming fascination as her blood joined the rest. Stoick came to her and pressed a piece of cloth over the small wound when she stepped away.

The progression was orderly and effective. All those who had been at the original conclave took the oath, along with their reptilian partners. Freygerd's words were just as loud as the rest, her voice refusing to weaken with age. She expressed her joy at seeing what she called the 'true end of the war' within her lifetime. She also made certain everyone knew how much she looked forward to learning from the dragons. Looking around at those closest to her, she said, "Perhaps one day soon one of you will benefit from the new kind of healing I intend to learn from our large friends."

Gobber provided an unintentional moment of levity during the procession. When he strode up to the basin, he looked a bit uncertain. Stopping before his own creation, he laid his good hand on its rim, looking down into the considerable pool of mixed blood. When a unique, warbling growl echoed across the gathering circle, his head snapped up. Moving with careful consideration among the shifting crowd of Vikings was his friend, George the Boneknapper. The large, bipedal reptile approached timidly, as if it could possibly have reason to fear the smith's reaction. The bones of other dragons that he had attached to his unusually thin hide gave it a menacing look completely at odds with his behavior.

The grin that lit across Gobber's soot-smudged face preceded his loud, enthusiastic greeting. "There ye are, ye great bony slug!" The few folks not quite out of the way were encouraged to move when they saw Gobber heading toward the large dragon. Throwing his thick arms around the skull-encased head of his newly returned friend, the smith gave a brief but thoroughly embarrassing display of affection, complete with a mix of praise for returning and scolding words for having left.

Shamelessly making his feelings known to the entire village wasn't what gave rise to numerous grins and chuckles. It was the curious coughing growl that forced him to turn around and notice the Gronckle that had partnered with him for their last battle, easily distinguished by her missing ear and two broken teeth. Gobber looked exactly like a fisherman returning from a long voyage to find his wife and mistress standing side by side on the docks.

"Oh. Ehhh...Hi!" He waved to his Gronckle before turning back to the Boneknapper. "George, this is..." Gobber's face fell as he realized the truth. "Ooh, um, sorry. Don't know your name, darlin'." He blinked as the realization hit him. "Come to think of it," he told the Boneknapper, "I don't actually know yours, either."

Luckily for him, the two dragons spoke to each other. Apparently they worked it out for themselves, as they both came to stand beside him at the basin. All three shed their blood for the cause before moving away for the next person. Gobber kept looking awkwardly from one dragon to the other.

Finally, all those who had already pledged to step forward had done so, along with their draconic partners. Hiccup held his breath, watching the crowd. Surely someone would see the wisdom of accepting the oath after watching every member of Berk's leadership do so.

Someone did, but it wasn't a villager.

A brown and gray Gronckle rose up from among the other dragons and buzzed its way over to the cleared space around the basin. It landed, staring at the metal object for a long moment. Then it looked expectantly around at the Vikings that surrounded it. It raised its head as much as its short neck allowed and growled out a long phrase. It lifted off once more, hovering over the arrow's point. Pressing the flat pad of a forepaw against it, it stayed airborne long enough to add to the basin's collection. It landed again, looking around once more. It gave an inquisitive grumble.

A large body shuffled forward, revealing itself to be Stonetoss. He stared at the Gronckle uncertainly. He glanced briefly at Hogknee but turned his attention to those standing on the mound. "I never could understand why the dragons changed after the battle. The first one, that is. It never made sense." He looked once more at the Gronckle. He took a single, hesitant step forward. The dragon facing him did the same. They gradually came together until Stonetoss' hand was lightly perched on the top of the Gronckle's nose. "Now it does." He seemed to consider the dragon before him a moment. Withdrawing a small blade, he turned to the basin.

"I'm Egil Runby." He glanced once more at Hogknee. "Most of you know me as Stonetoss." His eyes then met the Gronckle's and stayed there. "I'll take this oath. I'll give my blood to seal it, before Thor and Odin and all the rest." A small, quick movement opened his palm and the blood came easily. He looked up to Stoick and Hiccup, nodded once.

Before Stonetoss had even finished, Grumblemud came forward to stand next to him. "I was there when Bitequick helped us fill Rorik with fish. If dragons started helping us catch 'em and didn't raid us for 'em... well, I see a lot of fish in our future." He casually swiped his palm on one of the arrow's edges and took the oath. As his blood mingled with the others, he addressed Hiccup. "So, if I'm out hunting and I get hurt and yell for help, a dragon hears me, he'll get me home?"

"Yes," said Two Hearts, repeated a moment later with a smile by Hiccup.

"You mentioned a plow," said Sigurd Clayfoot. "You being serious?"

"Yes! Yes, of course. I'd have to ask the dragons if they were willing to have one attached to them, but I don't think they'd have many objections. The harness might be a challenge..."

Little by little, dragons and villagers approached the basin. It went on for some time, as talk of possible advantages of working with the dragons started making its way through the crowd. By the time it was over, many of the torches had to be replaced and yet Berk's gathering circle remained awash in small groups of villagers and dragons. Even though hardly any of the dragons could understand Norse, they listened eagerly to the conversations going on around them.

Not everyone took the oath, though. Einarr disappeared shortly after Grumblemud's turn. Hogknee watched for a while, then left. His wife Svala was torn, looking at the basin and her retreating husband. Eventually she turned and followed him home.

Stoick was immensely pleased. He lightly thumped Hiccup on the back and said quietly in his ear, "I'm proud, Hiccup. You've done good work here."

Hiccup felt a touch light-headed from it all. "I... couldn't have done it without your help. You and Two Hearts."

"That's one of the secrets you know."

Hiccup looked up. "Hmm?"

Stoick smiled. "The best chiefs get good help, and lots of it." He noticed Freygerd approaching. "And speaking of which..."

The village elder smiled at them but said nothing. She was obviously tired. It had been a long night for all concerned but she was still buoyed by the events she'd helped shape.

With a sudden, sly grin, Stoick said to her, "So, it looks like you were actually wrong this time."

Freygerd stared at him, her eyes narrowing slightly.

With only the slightest stammer, he pointed to Hiccup and clarified with, "About him being the last true Viking."

Her smile was slow and thoroughly satisfied. "You think so?"

He looked to his son, who was baffled by the odd turn of conversation. "He... didn't kill it. He didn't kill anything. Not directly."

Freygerd nodded. "Ah, yes, I see your mistake. You were assuming I meant he would have killed a dragon. That he would be the last to do so in Berk."

"Well, yes." When she didn't respond, he muttered, "No?" Her continued silence earned an unhappy frown. He huffed and demanded, "Well, then what did you mean?"

She gestured at the large mixed gathering all around them. "Do we fight dragons anymore? Will we even need to, with what we ALL know now? The way I see it, all the dragons are dead. New friends have taken their place." She tipped her head in Hiccup's direction. "And it's all his doing."

Stoick shook his head and opened his mouth to respond.

Freygerd interrupted. "It's never a safe bet to contradict a wise woman. She might curse you with a humiliating rash." Stoick's eyes widened and she burst into laughter.

His wings ached but he had no complaints. Two Hearts had accomplished much in the last two days. It made all the extra flying worth it. He no longer feared for the nests as he once had. Skyflank and Glider would make good watchers. Skyflank had objected at first, saying he was no more prepared to be a watcher than he was to be named First Hunter. Two Hearts had pointed to the density of spines along his tail and compared it to the warm pink of his own tongue. Skyflank was of breeding age where Two Hearts was not. The ghostwing had been both watcher and First Hunter for some time with fewer seasons behind him.

"Winds teach wings, storms build strength," he added, reminding the brightscale of one of the lessons taught fledglings. "You've flown the rough airs as well as any. Far Shore Nest will be safe with you as watcher." With Fire Nest once again free, it hadn't been hard to convince the new watchers to teach others to range. Nor had any Kin objected to keeping other nests in their thoughts. Isolation and competition between nests had to stop if they were to succeed in fending off any future invaders.

Two Hearts was especially grateful for the interest both breeders and non-breeders alike had shown in the new kind of bonding he'd described to them. Stories of the fight with Smoketail were winging around all the nests. Many of them praised Featherstone and his kin's efforts to help free Fire Nest. Such stories gave much lift to the idea of exchanging strong words with the preytooths.

He shook his head slightly, a Featherstone habit, and reminded himself that the new name Crush Claw had suggested was far more appropriate. 'Groundkin' said more about them than preytooth did. It also reminded them of the new relationship Kin had with them.

The sun was falling and he wanted to return to Featherstone's woodcave for some well deserved rest. He and Skyflank had settled at Far Shore Nest to rest a bit first, having finished their first joint ranging. From inland they heard a call, the stuttering hiss of a male firescale asking permission to land. Skyflank offered greetings and welcomed their visitor.

Once settled, the firescale faced the two and lowered his head. Two Hearts was bemused by the gesture. It seemed that detail of the story had spread quickly among those Kin who had heard of it. After learning that Kin and Groundkin had said strong words to join their nests, many Kin had taken to using the gesture among themselves as well as to Groundkin.

"I am Birdsnatcher, of Fire Nest. I saw Two Hearts from above and wanted to give my thanks." He turned to the brightscale. "By your colors you must be Skyflank. I want to thank you as well."

"Thank us?" Skyflank wasn't as used to the kind of gestures that had been offered to Two Hearts for several seasons.

"Yes. For grounding Smoketail and joining the nests. I've just come from Voice Nest. I gave my liver's blood and said the strong words for Sire and Yellowbreath." He seemed quite excited about his recent journey. Something puzzled Two Hearts, though.

"Voice Nest?"

Birdsnatcher hesitated. "I don't know its proper name. I only call it that because of your flight mate."

"Featherstone?" Skyflank chirred his confusion as well.

The firescale looked from one watcher to the other. "It's been spoken by almost all Kin in Fire Nest. He is the Voice of Kin among the preytooths."

"Groundkin," Two Hearts corrected distractedly.

Birdsnatcher took only a moment to digest the new information. "Ah, yes, a much better name for them. I will tell my nest mates when I return."

"They have named my flight mate Voice at Fire Nest?" Two Hearts was still chewing that bit of news.

"Yes. I... I thought you had heard."

"No." The ghostwing rumbled with satisfaction. "I will have to tell him of it. He is worthy of such a name. Perhaps the other Groundkin will use it as well."

Two Hearts spotted a large body moving in the water behind Birdsnatcher. With a toss of his head he warned, "Nest mate behind." The firescale turned to see Nightsun climbing onto the shore. She moved slowly, her good wing supporting most of her weight and her wounded one touching the ground only lightly.

"Two Hearts," she called. "Thank you!"

"The swimming helps, yes?"

She thrummed happily and moved closer to the small group of males. "It does! It's almost like flying! And the water washed most of the crusting off the wounds, too." A small shiver ran down her long neck. "Once I get faster, I think I can catch roundbacks!"

"If you do, you'll be a better swimmer than me."

Nightsun noticed Birdsnatcher and lowered her neck in apology. "I've been rude. I'm Nightsun of Far Shore Nest."

Birdsnatcher lowered his head again, getting the same amused reaction from the female firescale. He gave his name and asked after her injury. Before long, stories were traded and promises were given to return for further visits.

Two Hearts left not long after. He'd not seen much of Featherstone over the last two days and had much to tell him.

They'd both thought awkward meals were a thing of the past in the Haddock household. There was much they had in common now, with Stoick learning about dragons and Hiccup learning about leadership. There had even been a few mild jokes made that went over tolerably well.

Then Hiccup laid out his new plan and silence filled the room once more.

Things had undeniably changed. Where once Stoick would have firmly refused the ideas his son had offered, now he mulled them in serious thought. There was still the furrowed brow, the foreboding frown. But Hiccup could see the chief of Berk was seriously considering his words. Even if he hated hearing them.

At least he'd waited until near the end of the meal before he'd spoken. There was little left of the deer haunch they'd roasted over the hearth. Even Two Hearts had gotten his fill of fish and occasional chunks of roast deer. Now the Fury lay comfortably, watching the two and following their conversation.

"There must be some..." Stoick hesitated, another sign of his growing respect for his son's recent maturation. He couldn't help thinking that his son was indeed practically a man. All the efforts to bring him to this point had paid off. Hiccup had done most of his growing next to Gobber's forge. And the rest of it on the back of a dragon. " some better way? Surely you don't have to..."

"I'm the best qualified," Hiccup offered gently. He didn't want this to be an argument any more than Stoick did. But it was still difficult for them both. "Fishlegs and Astrid can handle my Voice duties. Whiptail is learning as much Norse as he can and Yellowmouth is doing well with her writing so-"

"It's just..." his father interrupted. "Things would work so much better if you stayed here."

Hiccup was still getting used to hearing such things from his father. It took him a moment to set aside the warm surge of pride and continue with his idea. "Snotlout can use the time I'm away to learn the leadership lessons I've been getting. Just in case... you know."

Stoick's frown deepened. He certainly didn't care to be reminded of the risks. But he'd said it himself. The trading mission was crucial. They needed to be prepared for any possible result, even an attack from whomever they met out there. That made having Two Hearts and Hiccup escorting the ship, along with Spitelout and Gobber and their dragons, all the more sensible.

Except that Stoick felt like he'd only recently gained the son he'd always wanted. Letting him head off into the unknown against potentially deadly enemies now was just... unfair.

Stoick briefly closed his eyes. Unfair? Keeping Hiccup and his Fury in Berk to satisfy his own desires - was that fair? Would he have tolerated such limitations from his own father?

He sighed, knowing how the conversation would end. Still, he couldn't help offering one last argument. "Hiccup, you know you don't have to do this. Gobber and Spitelout can handle anything they run across."

Hiccup heard the hint of resignation in Stoick's voice. He smiled, understanding that his father cared for him and his safety. "Dad, Two Hearts and I want to do this. We need to do this. If we find any other tribes fighting dragons because of a Red Death, we can help. Or if we find any dragon colonies and can convince them to join ours..."

Stoick waved his hand slightly, knowing it was over. His son was leaving. "I know, I know. I just... I don't want to lose you. You're... you're all I have left of..."

Hiccup nodded, softly replying, "Yeah, I know." He gave a little shrug. "It's only for a year or so, right? Not that long."

There wasn't an immediate answer. Stoick stared at his hands for a bit before he stood and turned to the wall behind him. Looking up at the old war hammer mounted in its place of honor, he murmured, "I know." His hand rose, wanting to touch Val's favorite weapon. He wanted to rub its bloodstained haft reverently, wanted to ask his wife's opinion. He still missed her council as much as he missed her passion. Instead, his fingers closed into a loose fist and his arm fell to his side. His eyes turned to his trophy axe, next to Val's hammer. Gobber had done a good job of cleaning and sharpening it. But it represented something he knew was as irretrievably lost as his wife. Aside from reminding him of the handfasting vows he'd taken with her, it no longer embodied his future. Only his past. He turned away from the wall and stared at nothing in particular.

"I believe in the gods." They were words from his own father, echoing without guidance. He'd heard them the day before he'd wed. "But I don't rely on them. Too cagey." He'd never figured on Rodmar's mild confession coming from his own mouth, let alone meaning them as solemnly as he did. "I've lived my life the way I was taught. My father and my grandfather did right by me, showed me how to get through life."

Only the first half of his life, as it turned out.

"I used my strength, my wits and my courage." He glanced sidelong at Hiccup. "You've courage and wits to spare. Strength..." He frowned slightly, then shrugged and nodded at Two Hearts. "He has enough strength for the both of you."

For a moment he lost his thread of thought. He looked down at his closed fist. That had also been the first half of his life, he realized. Slowly, purposefully, he spread his fingers until his empty palm showed. Did that represent the second half of his life?

"I understand you have to go; I do." The words seemed to force themselves out, as if they were being held prisoner and refused to stay inside him any longer. "But I won't have enough heart to go on if I lose you, too." He clenched his jaws, hating what those words did to him, to his insides. His fingers curled again, practically against his will. His brows lowered and his voice dipped to a dangerous growl. "I swear to you... if the gods let anything happen to you while you're out there I will find the Allfather, snatch out his other eye and feed it to him."

Shock was followed quickly by confusion. This was strange behavior for Stoick and Hiccup wasn't sure what to make of it. At first he thought his father was making a rather bad joke. A smile tried to creep across his lips but it fled when there was none on Stoick's face to join it. His father was deadly serious.

Finally it dawned on him what his father was really saying, what he had trouble saying. What he couldn't say from lack of experience. He loved his son.

Hiccup nodded. "I understand," he responded quietly. He saw his father's expression soften slightly as the message was returned. But he decided that if they were going to tread this new territory, they were going to do it right. He stood from his side of the table, walked around it and past Two Hearts to stand in front of Stoick. Throwing his arms wide, he embraced his father's startled form. It took a few moments before the enormous arms capable of shattering all his ribs lightly pressed against his back. When Hiccup stepped back, Stoick's face was a promising mix of pride, embarrassment and slightly bruised dignity.

"So," Stoick announced with only a trace of a waver in his voice, which Hiccup chose to ignore. "Watch yourself out there. Come back safe or Ragnarok starts early."

Hiccup couldn't keep the smile off his face now. "Got it. Fate of the world on my shoulders. Nothing to it."

That brought a faint smirk to the chief's face. "Right." It didn't last, though. His brow lowered slightly, his jaw worked to push out the difficult words. "I knew you'd eventually leave my house. I just... never thought you'd leave my life. Not like this. Not like a..."

Hiccup grinned wider. "Like a true Viking?"

Stoick looked chagrined. Then he laughed quietly. "Aye.

The weeks that followed the Blood Oath were much like the ones that followed the First Battle. Changes swept through Berk, both preceded and followed by discussion, sometimes by argument. Opinions formed and reformed. Some stepped forward to 'swim the new waters' while others watched first from the shore. And just like before, none were truly spared from the changes. Even those who had embraced, or at least adapted to, the first round had to work at changing their points of view.

Hiccup watched these changes closely. He hadn't last time, being as ignorant of what had truly happened as everyone else. He was greatly encouraged by what he saw this time.

It seemed apparent to him that the dragons were putting much more effort into their integration in the village than before. A long and difficult discussion between him, Stoick and Two Hearts had gotten the idea across to Berk's leader that dragons had held opinions just as skewed about the village's inhabitants as they did of the flying reptiles. As a result, no real attempts at compromising behavior, aside from a lack of aggression, had been made by the dragons because they generally didn't see Berk's residence as being as mentally or emotionally sophisticated as them. To find out this attitude had gone both ways was a bit humbling, on both sides.

So now dragons were walking about Berk, mindful of where wings and tails went and where they stepped. They exercised extra caution around the village's youngsters. They also delighted many Berkians by bringing older hatchlings to the village, usually on their backs. No one had seen such young dragons before. It took a while and perhaps was fostered more by the mothers and the young, but Hiccup's description of 'cute' as applied to hatchlings became fairly common.

One of the more amazing adaptations came with the addition of two wounded dragons to the village. Sigurd Clayfoot, at the persistent urging of his children, took in a Nadder who'd had one wing severely broken and lost the use of one eye. In exchange for helping feed him and tending his healing wounds, the dragon willingly helped with firing Sigurd's kiln and hauling clay from the only good deposit on the island some half a day's walk away. Likewise, Grumblemud and his wife, Bonescrape, formed a partnership with a similarly grounded Gronckle. With four good legs and powerful lava blasts, the dragon found the work of providing both lumber and firewood rather easy.

Immediately following the Blood Oath, there were almost forty people who claimed to have no desire to join in any pact with the dragons. As the weeks passed and Berk got a taste of the more mutually beneficial relationships being formed this time around, the number of folks wanting to leave dropped. Eventually there were only fourteen people who insisted that they would not stay in Berk if required to take the Oath. Both Einarr and the Vapnfjords were among those who wanted to leave, though Svala wasn't nearly as insistent as her husband Hogknee.

Stoick arranged for these fourteen to be given Berk's largest remaining ship and enough provisions to see them through their voyage. There were some lingering tensions between those who were leaving and those related to them who had chosen to stay. In the end, no resolution could be found to satisfy both sides. They left with little commotion roughly a month after the Second Battle.

Other news moved swiftly among Berk's gossips once it was known that the chief's son was to go on the trading voyage. Some rather strange rumors began concerning the fact that Spitelout and Hiccup were to go while Stoick and Snotlout were to stay. Whispers of power struggles and quarrels over succession persisted regardless of anything said by any of the four involved.

More annoying to Hiccup was Tuffnut's successful petition to join the trading mission. He wouldn't be joining as a rower, either. He and his new friend, Anvindr's undersized Nightmare, would be joining as part of the Night Fury's winged escort. Both Hiccup and Two Hearts had a short but serious conversation with the newest team to join yet couldn't persuade them to reconsider. Two Hearts didn't have the same reservations that Hiccup had, but he did seem concerned about the Nightmare's well being.

Less than a week before the Night Fury was to set sail, Hiccup found Tuffnut lounging on the stone steps in front of the great hall, his dragon at his side. He had to admit, they seemed quite devoted to each other. They were almost never seen apart.

It wasn't a chance encounter. Hiccup had expected Tuffnut's lack of focus and discipline would eventually dull his interest in leaving with them. It gradually became evident this would not be the case. He decided that if Tuff truly wanted to be a part of the team, he needed to show a level of maturity that had yet to be displayed.

With Two Hearts at his side, he approached the pair. The male twin was taking slow sips from a mug of water while his dragon relaxed beside him. The Nightmare perked up and grumbled a bit to Two Hearts, after which they touched noses and fell into their own quiet conversation.

"Hey Tuff."

"Hiccup! How are you, my fine fellow?" Tuffnut took another sip of water, smacked his lips and produced a long, and loud, belch. Hiccup, at first puzzled by the unusual greeting, looked mildly dismayed at the sound.

"How can you even do that with only water?"

Tuffnut shrugged. "It's a gift."

Not wanting the topic to devolve the way it often did with either of the Thorston offspring, he asked, "So, have you been practicing your solo flying?"

With an affronted look, he responded, "You're joking, right? I've barely touched ground for three days. It's getting so I can't tell if my butt looks like the saddle or the other way around."

Despite the crude response, Hiccup was pleased with the answer. It was the most promising sign yet that the young man would not be a complete liability in unexplored territory.

Nodding, Hiccup hummed a positive note. Then he came to the point. "Look, Tuffnut, I really need to know if you can take orders."

Tuff's surprisingly casual response was, "Not from you." He pointed to Two Hearts sitting nearby and added, "From him, sure. But not from you."

Hiccup stared at him until the twin laughed and said, "Just kidding." Then he sobered up again. "But seriously, don't let it go to your head. I'm not polishing your saddle or anything like that."

"What? No, no." His frustration leaked into his tone. "Tuff, we're going to be a team. We'll have to work together and I need to know you'll do as I ask."

Tuffnut pointed to him with a smirk. "You said 'ask' that time."

With two fingers pressed to his forehead and a growing frown, Hiccup muttered, "Ugh, whatever." He glared at Tuff and asked plainly, "I need to know: will you follow my lead?"

The twin burst out laughing again. "Gods, even after all this, you're still so easy."

Hiccup regarded him with disappointment. "Tuffnut, I..." He shook his head and decided to cut his losses. He turned and began to walk away.

"Hey!"

He stopped, refusing to get his hopes up despite the serious look on Tuffnut's face.

"Hiccup." Tuffnut blinked, seemed to consider something briefly. His tone changed and his expression gained a quality Hiccup had never seen before. "Voice." He nodded. "I'm with you." He glanced at his companion. "I have a dragon of my own now. I have a mission, an important one." He took a step closer, pointing in the general direction of the docks. "That ship we're es... eh..."

"Escorting," Hiccup supplied.

"-escorting. It's got Berk's future on it. It needs our protection." He hitched a thumb at Two Hearts. You and Toothless know what you're doing. Me and Shatterbones-"

"It's Crush Claws, actually. At least that's what I think he said."

Now it was Tuffnut's turn to be mildly annoyed. "Whatever. We're still getting things worked out. But we'll do our best. You tell us what you want and we'll take care of it. Deal?"

Hiccup realized this was Tuffnut's moment of truth. And the guy was stepping up. A little smile crept across his face. "Deal."

Of course for Tuffnut that wasn't sufficient. He hawked and spat into his hand and then held it out.

Disturbed by the idea, Hiccup hesitated. This was a Ruff/Tuff thing, never his. He was on the brink of objecting when he recognized the significance of the gesture. Tuff needed this. Therefore, so did he.

So, for Tuffnut's sake, he spat into his own hand and extended it. With a sudden frown, Tuff pulled his back.

"What are you doing? Your hand's not even wet." Tuffnut shook his head, pointing at the offending hand. "You've got to really put one in there. Drippy is better."

Hiccup glared at him. Rather than retreat, however, he persisted. In for a bucket, in for a barrel. With as much dramatic flair as he could muster, he snorted long and hard, hawked until his throat rattled and spat into his hand with a resounding 'splat.' He held it out again.

Tuffnut stared for a moment, then grinned and clasped the hand with a squelch. "Now you're getting it."

Astrid hated having regrets. Her new relationship with Folkvardr, whose real name was Whiptail or something similar, caused her to have more regrets than she ever thought she could put behind her. She had been assured repeatedly that Whiptail held nothing against her. Still, the idea of climbing on top of him and riding him like an animal when she knew he was as smart as she was... it just left a bad taste in her mouth. And the memories of how she'd spoken to him before kept breeding more regrets.

It was obvious he would have none of that. He was so patient with her, so persistently affectionate, she eventually concluded that there was no point in letting her regrets about him linger. Every time she started to brood on her past, he would nudge her gently with his snout. Or perhaps he would use the webbing of his wing to draw her close into his version of a hug. Or he might resort to his newest method of cheering her up: singing to her.

Deadly Nadders had a broader vocal range than most other breeds. And despite not yet having any clue what he was singing about, she couldn't deny that the soft, trilling melodies he would sing for her always made her smile.

There was a single regret that rivaled all the ones regarding her dragon: Hiccup.

There was still a good bit of confusion in her heart about what she truly felt for him. Surviving another crazy fight on Red Death Island had once again proved to her that there was much more to the boy than she'd once believed. The knowledge he'd brought Berk about dragons this time made their original ideas about 'taming' them feel childish and ignorant. He'd even been bestowed an unofficial title: Voice.

The single biggest change in him was that now he wanted to leave. He was going to leave. That meant there would be no second chance for her to find out if she really felt what she thought she felt. Leaving with him was out of the question. Berk was her home and she still wanted to be its guardian.

She was going to lose what was probably going to be her last chance to work out the problem. Exploring the wide world would certainly change him. Berk hadn't been able to safely or successfully explore beyond what the fishing boats could manage. Bringing back fish had always been more important than just sailing until new land was spotted. Whoever was out there, however they reacted to a trading vessel escorted by dragons... it would pull Hiccup away from her, away from whatever chance they may have once had.

"What do you think, Astrid?"

She also hated being caught with her mind wandering. In her defense it was well after sundown and the six of them had been sitting around a small fire for several hours. Hiccup, Fishlegs and their companions had wanted to meet with her atop a sea stack that Hiccup had more or less claimed as his own. The pair of four-legged dragons with graspy paws had brought deadwood for the fire and Fishlegs had brought a basket of bread and a skin of water. They'd eaten the bread, drunk the water and talked between the six of them.

Astrid yawned and said in a no-nonsense tone, "I think it's late and I think I'm tired." She shifted her legs a bit, wincing slightly at the dull throb that rippled through her healing thigh. The pink, pebbled skin of her wound was still sensitive and the muscle beneath it had only recently healed enough to let her sleep through an entire night.

Fishlegs scoffed. "Oh, come on Astrid. The sun's only been down for..." He looked up at the stars, then glanced at the waxing moon rather high up in the sky. "Wow. I hadn't realized it was so late." He held up placating hands and added, "But you do agree that you and I will be able to handle relations between Berk and the dragon nests, right?"

She sighed, recalling that particular issue was the one being discussed when she started thinking more about Hiccup than diplomacy between Vikings and dragons. She gave a weary nod. With a gentle stroke along Whiptail's neck she added, "Between the four of us we should do just fine." She also nodded at Yellowmouth who, like Whiptail, was hunkered down near the fire while their small companions leaned against them. She flicked a stick she'd been toying with into the fire. "Keeping Snotlout up to speed is going to be the hard part."

"I wonder if I should make a copy of Hiccup's lexicon for him," Fishlegs muttered. He unconsciously rubbed his hands over the collection of printed notes on the written language he and Two Hearts had devised. Hiccup and his companion had spent a few evenings compiling it for the young man so that he and his Gronckle would have a head start on learning it. They, in turn, would be teaching it to as many other Vikings and dragons as they could manage. He eyed Yellowmouth as she used her new metal pencil to practice scribbling words in the dirt while Two Hearts watched and responded with his own. It was endlessly fascinating to watch two dragons have a conversation he could actually follow. Mostly.

"I would make several copies if I were you. The more there are, the faster it can spread." In spite of her aches and fatigue, Astrid had presented a few good ideas about how to help foster the concept of working with the dragons. She'd even suggested there be draconic 'teachers' that spread the new language among the other nests. Hiccup had suggested making many metal 'pencils' to distribute to those dragons that wanted to learn and teach.

"You know," Fishlegs suddenly interjected, "with several different nests of dragons teaching each other how to write, it's possible if not likely that each nest will develop a slightly different version of it. Over time, they might diverge quite a bit."

Hiccup nodded, looking as tired as she was. "All the more reason to go with Astrid's idea of asking for volunteers among them to be teachers. You'll all need to agree on a standard and then stick to it." He pointed to her. "I suspect you'll have the harder time, though."

She cocked her head at him for a moment. "Why is that?"

"Well, teaching Norse to them will actively require your effort. There's nothing for the dragons to study when you're not teaching them. And you'll need a dragon reasonably skilled at writing to verify that your students understand your lessons."

She nodded as she considered the broadening scope of her 'Voice' responsibilities.

"How will you and Two Hearts keep up with us? We might well double or even triple the word count by the time you return." Fishlegs giggled slightly. "You'll be needing lessons yourself when you get home!"

Hiccup smiled warmly. "That wouldn't bother me in the least." His dragon voiced his agreement with a happy warble. Then he added two spoken words that only Hiccup could understand. "Yeah, it is getting late. I'm about ready to call it quits."

"Not me," Fishlegs decided. "I think I'm going to spend some time working on my new writing skills." He looked to his Gronckle. "Ready to head home, girl?" He pointed in the direction of the village to get his point across. The large, round head moved up and down in response and he giggled again at being able to mimic Hiccup's ability to speak directly to his dragon.

Neither Astrid nor Hiccup moved after Fishlegs left. She fidgeted with the bandage wrapped around her hand while he continued playing with the latch that kept his leg locked in place. Eventually she glanced up under her brow at him. He had a look of intense concentration which didn't match the pointless latching and unlatching of his leg's lock.

She recognized her opportunity. Knowing it would certainly be her last, she seized it with both hands.

"Why do you want to leave Berk?"

The question took him entirely by surprise, if his puzzled look was any indication. "What do you mean? I told everyone-"

"You told everyone you want to protect the mission and help other dragons." Astrid watched him closely, the flickering pool of light around them giving an atmosphere of intimacy. "I want to know why you're really leaving."

Hiccup stared at her. So did the two dragons. "I don't understand." His troubled expression bothered her for some reason she couldn't place.

Astrid had been picking at the problem since he'd announced his plans. "You were going to leave before, just before I caught you with him." She nodded to the dragon who was blending into the darkness. "As soon as I left, you came after me."

"I remember." He nodded slowly, his tone cautious. "What does that-"

"You didn't really want to leave. If you had, you would have just gone. Instead,

you took a crazy chance and chased me down. Tried to convince me." There was a faint tremor in her voice and she clenched her teeth, hating the weakness it represented. "If you didn't want to leave then, why do you want to leave now? When things are finally going right."

Still uncertain, Hiccup leaned forward slightly. "I'm... I'm not leaving forever."

"Aren't you?" Every sentence carried more pain, more distress. "Why leave at all unless you think you'll find something out there more important than us? It's not..." Her fists were clenched in her lap as she chose better words than the ones her heart wanted to use. "It's not right. This is your home. This is where you belong."

Hiccup said nothing, just stared at her. It went on long enough that she felt an irrational desire to yell at him to do something, say something. Finally he got unsteadily to his feet and stepped around the fire. His eyes lifted to Whiptail's and he briefly stroked the Nadder's jaw before he knelt in front of Astrid.

"You're right. This is my home. And that's exactly why I have to leave." He paused when she huffed a breath but continued when she offered no immediate argument. "I'm worried. I've... I've been thinking about who we might find out there. What they might be like." He shook his head slightly. "I'm not worried about the dragons we might come across. I'm worried about-"

"Other Vikings," she said in unison with him. He nodded.

"What do you think we would have done a year ago if a ship showed up escorted by dragons with riders?"

She let that image work its way through her mind. If she were honest, Berk's reaction would not have been good for such visitors. She pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head.

"See? That's what I'm afraid we might be facing. The people on the ship will be better off with us there, in case someone gets a little... you know."

"Axe happy?"

Hiccup's grin was fleeting but his expression remained calm as they considered what had been said.

She could at least accept his reason for leaving. He sounded genuinely concerned for those who would be searching for outside contact. But that was only half of it. The other half was more important to her. "So you will come back?"

"Of course. Like you said, this is my home. Everyone I care about is here."

Astrid's head tilted back a bit, as if issuing a dare. "Everyone?"

Hiccup's mouth seemed to suddenly go dry and he had a little trouble speaking. "Y-yes. Everyone."

It was almost enough. But Astrid had never been satisfied with 'almost.' She stared at him intently, trying to force both of them into a decision. The longer she stared, the closer she could feel her heart leaning toward him. There was much in Hiccup worth pursuing. She needed to remind him that she was just as worthy. As her heart leaned, so did she, closing the space between them.

"Good. Because if you don't come back I will come find you. And when I do, so help me..."

Hiccup's face twisted and she realized she'd gone the wrong way. "Yeah, I know. Dad's already threatened to end the world if I don't return, thanks." He pulled back a bit, as if unnerved by her intensity.

The conversation was not going right. She was losing her last chance. Her words weren't the right ones. She only knew of one other way to make him understand. She reached out and gripped the collar of his tunic, the one with the Night Fury eyes her mother had made for him. She could feel the stiffness of the extra stitching under her fingers and the heat of his throat on the tops of them.

"I'm not Stoick," she muttered, pulling him closer.

Hiccup's eyes widened and he reacted instantly. Off balance, in more than one way, his hands shot to her shoulders. His arms tensed, keeping them apart.

It truly shocked Astrid how much that small amount of rejection hurt. It must have shown on her face. Hiccup's eyes locked on hers and they stared directly at each other while her heart hammered and bitterness crowded her throat. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't even blink. How had this happened? How had she failed so badly?

There was a sound. It might have been the soft groaning of the seastack collapsing beneath them. More likely it was the low trilling of Whiptail mixed with the gentle growl of Two Hearts, commenting on the slow destruction of Astrid's half-formed hopes.

Then Hiccup's hands shifted, left her shoulders. Their eyes never moved, mutually pinned. She felt the heat of his palms drift slowly up the sides of her neck, under her chin. The pressure lightened until it was a gentle caress of his fingertips. They slid back to just beneath her ears, framing her face.

His eyes softened. Confusion and uncertainty were replaced by vulnerability and hope. He leaned forward, slowly, trying to gauge her reaction.

He wasn't Stoick, either.

Astrid could no more draw breath under water than she could keep her eyes open as his lips brushed against hers. Her lungs froze and her mind seemed awash in a growing light. If the sea stack had crumbled into the ocean at that moment, she wouldn't have noticed. The pressure against her mouth became a bit more insistent and she willingly matched it.

There was a gentle, persistent something, forming in the back of her mind. Before she could name it or understand what it meant, Hiccup withdrew. She followed him for an instant before leaning away. Her eyes snapped open, desperate to know where they now stood.

His throat worked, his lips moved. It was several tense moments before any words could follow.

"I stayed because of you." It was a fragile whisper, almost too timid to cross the space between them. "If it had been anyone else... I would have..." He blinked rapidly, dropped his hands from her face. Before they could escape she caught them, gripped them firmly. He didn't resist.

It took a moment for her to respond. She'd never known this, never even speculated what made him come after her.

"Because of me?" How much else didn't she know about him? What other secrets could he reveal, given enough reason to do so? Her mind hummed like Ivarr's heart at the possibilities.

Hiccup nodded, wincing slightly and finally dropping his eyes to their clasped hands. "I just couldn't stand the idea of you hating me. Of thinking me a traitor. That would have been too much."

And now, finally, it dawned on her. He'd risked everything for her. Instead of taking his dragon and leaving to protect them both, he'd come after her. Why hadn't she seen this before?

Because, she realized, Hiccup was different from everyone else on Berk. And like everyone else, she'd had to be practically clubbed over the head to make her see the truth. Hiccup was arguably the most important person in her tribe's history. He'd changed the world, more than once, because it was the right thing to do.

Well, not so much changed as discovered.

And of all the things Hiccup believed in, she was just as important to him as the rest of the village. Even balanced against his father the chief and the Night Fury who'd become his most trusted friend, he valued her opinion of him equally.

The hair on her arms stood up and tingled at the thought of it. There was no way, she decided at that instant; she would never let him go without a fight. Not against the rest of the village, the rest of the dragons, not even against the rest of the world. Hiccup was worth it.

He was her Viking.

She tightened her grip on his hands and he raised his head. "Promise me you'll come back."

He was nodding before she finished her sentence. "Yes," he said clearly. The same quiet strength she'd seen before and found worthy of her attention. "I promise I'll come back to Berk." His hands gripped hers just as tightly. "I'll come back to you."

It was rather warm out, even considering the time of year. Berk's brief summer was coaxing folks out of their furs and leathers and into linens. The second round of planting was under way and the rains had graced them with enough water to hope for a plentiful harvest. Evenings now saw lots of meals and games being held in the open spaces between houses.

The growing number of winged guests might also have had something to do with that.

The air was still brisk and refreshingly cool, especially when moving at a good clip around the cliffs and sea stacks. It seemed to offer a familiar comfort. Hiccup suspected he might find himself wanting both familiarity and comfort before their journey was over. His furred vest and journals were accordingly packed away on the Night Fury, sailing well below him.

'This is it,' he thought. 'It's finally beginning.'

It had never been his intention or his desire to be an explorer. Berk had been big enough for him. Its conditioned isolation offered a chance to know his entire world during his lifetime.

Now Berk felt like a cramped house he'd never left. And this was the first step outside its door. There was a growing thrill beneath the planning and the preparations. He couldn't forget his promise, though. Cramped it might be, but the rocky cliffs were his home. They would always be home for him.

Of course there had been a lot of fuss and bother. The air above the village was once again dotted with dragons, many carrying newly trained riders. Like it had been last autumn, the sight was almost miraculous. Hiccup had worried he might never see it again.

Unlike last time, his father was participating. Stretched out along Swimmer's spine, Stoick was grinning widely in spite of this being a 'farewell flight.' The chief glanced over at him, as he had many times already. The mix of exultation and apprehension on Stoick's face hadn't changed since they left the ground. Hiccup doubted it would until long after they'd left Berk behind. The man waved and he chuckled as he returned the gesture for perhaps the sixth time.

There had been a moment of doubt earlier that morning. Standing in his small loft bedroom, looking around for anything that might be needed in the months ahead, he'd heard a quiet conversation downstairs. He wasn't certain if he'd been meant to overhear it or not. Either way it had left an impression on him.

"I must ask, before you leave." His father's voice had been hushed, rough and uneven. Hiccup had moved a step closer to the edge of the loft, straining to hear. "I know you'll take care of him. Any fool can see that." There was a pause, a shuffling of heavy feet on the floor. He moved another step closer, able to see much of Two Heart's body standing beside the hearth and the top of Stoick's head. "Remember what he is to us. What he is to me."

A hard lump crowded Hiccup's throat. He leaned forward, unwilling to let a squeaking leg interrupt. He saw them both now, his father's head bowed over that of the Fury and his hands gently placed on the sides of the wide muzzle.

"The... the man who'll be riding on your shoulders... will someday carry the village on his. That's a lot of weight to bear." He lowered his head, touching it to the pebbly brow. "He'll need your strength and protection. And so will we."

He'd spent some time after that wondering if perhaps he should reconsider. In the end, though, his decision was the same. This was the right thing to do.

The goodbyes hadn't been easy. He'd seldom gone out on the fishing boats and Stoick had always been with him when he did. He had no practice with handling the numerous requests to stay safe and return successful. He almost wished he could have snuck out the night before and met the Night Fury at sea.

His father's plea to Two Hearts made it plain, though. Doubts and criticisms aside, Berk understood the importance of what was happening. A look at the thick, congealed mass in the basin standing in the middle of the gathering circle was indisputable proof of that.

That was ultimately what made his departure possible. There was finally a clear understanding between the two sides that had once fought tooth and sword over the very ground he was leaving behind. Vikings and dragons both knew their futures had clearly expanded yet not expanded clearly. Much was at stake. The efforts they put forth with each other helped ensure they would all succeed.

And that was why he could face the horizon with an untroubled mind and a sharp focus. Whatever came to them, whatever they found: he could face it with everything he had. Nothing of the past could hinder them.

Hiccup's heart felt as light as the clouds around them. The steady comfort of the saddle beneath him and the large powerful body beneath it made anything seem possible. This was a moment he would savor the rest of his life. The unknown world awaited him. He was ready for it. He and Two Hearts would succeed, he was certain. They had already achieved the impossible.

Berk was no longer broken.

(c)Wirewolf 2016 "How to train your dragon" and all attendant characters are copyright Dreamworks Animation and used without permission

AN: So that's it. This project is now officially finished. I can hardly believe it. Before I close for the last time there are a few things I would like to say.

"Broken" was never meant to be this large or take this long. When I started I had no idea it would take me five years to complete. You want to know how old I am? Those five years represent ten percent of my entire life.

Ten percent! The only things I've ever done that took longer were to graduate from school and pay off a mortgage!

Having said that, I think you can understand why I have changed my mind about writing any sequels. I just don't have it in me.

I also want to give my most sincere thanks to all those who have watched, faved and reviewed my work. Even if you weren't posting under a registered name and showed only as 'Guest', I deeply appreciated the time and effort you took to tell me what you thought. Any honest writer will tell you that while they may not write for accolades, they are certainly a wonderful reward for the work put into the story. Even if you never said a thing, I'm glad you found my story worth your time. So thank you, each and every one of you.

And speaking of reviews, this is your last chance! I've never asked for reviews. I've always felt that if the work deserved it, they would come. But I know there are still folks who might have been hesitant or reluctant to say anything. To them I ask for a review this one time. Nothing elaborate or lengthy is required. Even a sincere emoticon is welcome.

Lastly, to those who watch me as an author here on this site, I will have another submission posted before the end of the year. I've become rather fond of the movie 'Zootopia' and am planning a VERY SHORT ONE SHOT. Like 'How to Train Your Dragon', there's an aspect of the movie that calls out to me to fill in a tiny bit of the story that wasn't touched in the film. Nor has it been yet, that I've seen, in any fanfiction I've read.

Again, thank you one and all; for your time, your attention and above all, your immense patience.

Good Night.

Athenaeum