Hello again. In this chapter we come full circle as well as gaining the knowledge that ends are simply new beginnings. Posting this chapter 9-16-2014. I'd like to thank everyone for their kind support as well as for your patience. The next sequence of The Viking and the Night Fury and The Mist and the Brave One, will begin in six to seven days, and will be posted in a separate story. However, if you feel it should continue on the first story, please say so. I'm still working on the title but I'm leaning towards The Riders and the Outcasts. If you have any suggestion before the deadline, I am open to hear them. Thank you all and please enjoy.

…

Daybreak had yet to arrive when Hiccup's green eyes shot opened from her slumber. There was a chill in the air, one that couldn't be cured by wrapping oneself in thick layers of fur, it was a shivering sensation deep-set into her bones and it stirred her to stand. From outdoors she could hear rumbling from above and her body trembled as she slowly paced down the stairs, every vibration from the outside world sending her nerves into a series of frenzies. When she reached the down of the steps, the front door felt like it was moaning, groaning something wicked from the other side. Fear told her to stay away and run but curiosity beckoned her to open it and see beyond the anxiety. Slowly placing her hands to the handle, she pulled the front door with all her might, the image of a large scaly monster flying by froze her stiff.

The monster before her and she stared at each other for the longest time till it finally readied its flames, aiming towards her. Quickly she pushed the door shut and could feel the heat from the hot sticky spit from the beast on the other end of the doorway before she panicked, running for the pantry where she knocked over several pots and pans with a clang. The clamor rose Stoick as he jumped out of bed and went for the axe by his bedside.

"Hiccup!" he shouted looked around in the darkness for his daughter. Seeing a pan fall to the ground by the pantry, he bent down to see her curled tightly in a ball at the furthest side of the wall, a small copper pot over her head like a helmet for protection.

He had never seen her react like this before but the sounds of dragon roars and fire burst striking the ground gave him the answer to why she was so petrified. Putting on his most valiant of expressions, Stoick marched towards the front door and outward into the village streets were several men and women were already making haste at defending their homes from the vile beasts.

By the time the village was clear from the dangers of the dragons, the sun was already casting itself over the horizon and exhausted from the kill and raid, Stoick strode back home to comfort his child who was still hidden behind the recesses of the pantry.

He crouched down to the cupboards, extending his blood coated hand towards her. "Come on now, Hiccup, they're gone. Daddy chased them away," he wanted that to be the last time he'd have to tell her that, but knew it wouldn't always be as easy to convince her later on in life.

Her eyes widened to the dark color of fresh blood on his skin, the smell of the dead trailing into her nostrils and her insides churned as she pressed closer the wall away from him. Bubbles of tears escaped her tightly shut lids, small weeps passing her silent voice. She couldn't understand why she was so enveloped by fear, why the scent of red on her father's person had her cower from him.

"Hiccup… It's alright. Come out…" Stoick's expression saddened when she distanced herself from him. He begged, plead on his knees for her to come out, even trying to coax her out with food, but nothing seemed to help. She refused.

A knock to the front door alerted him to a visited that when he lifted himself up, his head banged against the top of the pantry shelf. Finally managing to get on his two feet, he walked to the door to find Gobber waiting at the foot of his steps.

"Everything alright, Stoick? You're usually out helping with the renovations at this hour," he looked to his friend's clearly fatigued face.

"It's Hiccup, she's barricaded herself behind pots and pans. She won't come out for me…"

Gobber let himself in, patting Stoick on the shoulder. "Let me try."

Walking to the pantry's edge, Gobber kneeled down and from the light peaking in from the front door, could see short brown hair trembling under a pot, a defensive of pans around it.

"What's got you so shaken up, lass?" Gobber asked as the little girl under the pot lifted it high enough for eye contact with him.

"There're monsters out there," Hiccup meekly whispered, though the tins around her made her voice seem louder.

Gobber's blue eyes softened. This was her first day of seeing dragons after her memories had been blocked. She had never been afraid of them before, but for some reason she was really quivering with fright.

"Aye, they can be scary… You know, when I was your age, my Daddy told me the best way to deal with a monster, is to face it head on. And you know what I did?" he peeked his head into the dark shelf.

Wiping her wet cheeks with the sleeve of her tunic she shook her head for him to continue with his story.

"I fought back with what I had, just my wits and a homemade dagger!" he picked up a nearby ladle and motioned it around like a tiny sword for dramatic effect. "After I faced my fears more and more, they became less frightening and I was soon able to help those who were scared too by making weapons for them to protect themselves with. As long as we can defend ourselves from the dragons, we'll have nothing to fear."

Hiccup listened closely and slowly pushed away her walls before crawling out of the darkness, holding onto the corner for comfort. "But what do we defend ourselves with?"

Chuckling, he leaned over and raised Hiccup onto his knee. "Well, not with pots and pans, even if they do come in handy," he took the pot off of her head and placed it onto the floor. "If you ever see a dragon again, Hiccup, just know that your father, me, and everyone else in the village work hard to make Berk a safer place for others. It's our job."

"What's my job?" she asked curiously, her fears slowly melting away.

"For now, your job is to eat the pancakes I'm about to make you for being such a good girl," he hopped up, placing Hiccup to the ground. Handing her the metal ladle, she looked to it closely and wondered if she too could face her fears and defend everyone too.

…

Masks of fog covered around the sea as the ships dealt further into the soup. It had been months since the last attack and the Vikings of Berk were doubling up on their search for the accursed dragons' nest. Island after island they pursued the beasts, only a handful actually housing the slimy reptiles. They could now see the outlines of a landmass up ahead and set sail straight for it, landing their ships on the pale sandy beach.

"We're here. Stay low and ready your weapons," Stoick ordered out to the other ships as his fit collided with the grains of moist powder.

As everyone set foot on the shoreline, many prepared and loaded the compact catapults, aiming them towards the stone structure of a fair-sized foothill. Today wasn't the typical dragon hunt like when they went out searching for the dragons nest, this was a netting mission for the battle arena. Their current supply of dragons were low and with the treaty signing with the Berserker tribe coming soon, it was nice to have something the people could enjoy watching. Although the current chief, Oswald the Agreeable, was a fairly docile man with little interest in visiting the killing arena, he knew the rest of his crewmen enjoyed a little blood sport every now and then.

Formulating their netting strategy on the cool sand with a sword, Stoick gave it a quick look over before nodding in approval, Spitelout, Gobber and Mrs. Thorson agreeing with his decision. "When we crack this mountain open, all Hel is gonna break loose."

"And my undies! Good thing I brought extras," Gobber joked as they all positioned themselves for the nearing assembly of dragons that was to come once they struck.

Raising his open palm into the air before closing it tightly into a fist, the men and women at the ready released the levers on the catapults, sending the boulders on them hauling towards the alp repeatedly on the same target till an opening was made.

Many appreciated the new design of the slinging device, it was lighter than the old model, easy to assemble as well as easier to reload with the inclusion of gears tightening the ropes instead of cutting at them and it made directing fire smoother. When the design and the first scale models were made, many praised Gobber for his advancement, but when he clarified that it was actually his new junior apprentice that envisioned them, they were utterly shocked. At the time, no one knew he had taken on a student and were eager to meet the young man. Once the identity of the new trainee was, it turned a few heads, especially her father's, Stoick the Vast. He hadn't been aware his child was sneaking off before sunrise to go work in the forge. Of course he was furious about the notion at first, but once he realized it was something Hiccup truly wanted to do, he allowed her to continue her training so long as she kept out of the way during raids and caused no trouble to others.

With the catapults reloaded with nets, one fastened with a tightened ball of oil soaked fibers, Stoick marched forward towards the opening in the mountainside and motioned his hammer to the launcher to ready the fireball before it was flung out of the holder and into the hollow opening. It whished past the Viking chief and shot straight through the thick darkness, leaving a smoking trail behind as the fires light lit the tunnel within and exposing the dwelling dragons from their concealment. Letting out a stirring battle shout, Stoick's echoing voice stunned the dragons to exit the cavern, unaware of the traps laid before them.

As the dragons flew out in a swarm of fright, the launchers released the nests, capturing dozens if not hundreds of juvenile dragons of all colors and breeds. While many managed to escape from their captors, the numbers were few when compared to the quantity of their fallen companions. Here and there, small battles ensued, usually ending in blood spilling and the death of Nadders and Zipplebacks but for the most part many of the young dragons fled as fast as they could. They were one of the few islands that were not within the domain of the cruel demon known as the Red Death but this still doesn't save them from the horrors by the hands of Vikings.

Securing the nests around a green Zippleback, a fearsome roar came from within the confines of the hollow opening in the mountainside, a bright mass of fire emerging towards the exit. As the Vikings prepared themselves, a red Monstrous Nightmare spread his flamed wings outward, hissing to the humans before him as they tied down many of his friends and family.

Setting up more nest while many went out to blindly attack the provoked Nightmare, more combat erupted till inevitable, he too was bonded tightly in ropes and hoisted below the many ships decks. One pack of Nadders rattled about as they were being boarded.

"Mind yourselves!" Stoick called out as he muzzled down a blue Nadder. "The devils still have some juice in them!"

After the ships were loaded to the brim with dragons, the crew gave a hearty cheer of victory. It wasn't much of a killing today, but this amount of dragon could possibly last them months, maybe even years. Passing by a mustard-colored Gronckle, Stoick shot it a nasty look., "Let's lead you to your new home, devils." How scornful for him to tell them this, knowing full well the arena was to be their final resting site.

…

"Look at me, I'm Hiccup! I think I'm sooo smart because I work in the forge and can read, but I can't even lift a hammer!" Snotlout mocked loudly, pretending his arms were slack and delicate. The twins, Ruffnut and Tuffnut chortled along with him as they poked fun at her expense, Hiccup indoors reading a book still recovering from a fever she had during late spring.

"Oh, oh, I got one!" Tuffnut said between a laugh as he positioned himself in a frightened pose and pitching his voice high. "I bathe on a regular basis and only eat flowers and junk!"

Hiccup turned the page of her story as she tried her best to ignore their loud antics that she could hear from their dragging voices, even if their words still stung her heart in the most painful of ways. It had been like this for as long as she could remember. They'd tease her or throw rocks at her just for their own entertainment. It was the norm around Berk and it seemed the adults did nothing to interfere with the bullying. Some even encouraged it like Mildew who'd personally give Snotlout clumps of dirt to chuck at her while she wasn't looking. The two children who didn't torment her were Aarne Hofferson and Fishlegs Ingerman, both for different reasons.

For Fishlegs, he was too cowardly to even consider hitting Hiccup but mostly he didn't find the necessity to do so in the first place. She didn't bother anyone, there was even times where he'd be having trouble with a riddle and she'd helped him with the clues which he was grateful for. He however, wasn't confident enough to go up to her and asked to be her friend or to share ideas. He saw the way the other children treated her and feared if he started hanging around with her, he'd succumb to the same treatment she'd gone through for so long. If he was brave and strong like Aarne, than maybe he'd be willing to accept that fate but for now, he did his best to stay out of Snotlout's bad side.

Aarne on the other hand, wasn't so tolerant of Snotlout's and the twin's treatment of her and marched over to them with tight fist at the ready.

Still laughing at his own jokes, Snotlout opened his eyes and waved a greeting to his "friend". "Hey, Aarne…!" was all he could get out before his cheek was punched. "Morning to you too, buddy!" he said on the ground before it was Tuffnut's turn to take his lumps. After the male twin was on the ground with a swollen eye, he turned to the female who glared at him bitterly.

"What? Wanna punch me too, tough guy?" she crossed her arms in a haughty manner.

Aarne scowled and scoffed. "You're lucky I don't hit girls."

"Yeah, so are you," she bit back as she lifted her brother up from the floor.

"Uh, guys…" Fishlegs fiddled with his sweaty palms. "The Berserkers are here."

Turning their heads, they all raced down to the docks to go meet their village's allies against the war on dragons. By the time they got there, a boat with a dragon spitting lightening was stationed at the docks, a short buff man with a long trim dark beard emerged from the vessel a hard expression on his face as he looked to the Hooligan chief.

"It's good to have you on the shores of Berk once more my good friend," Stoick extended his arm outward to greet the traveler. "May be have another year of unity between our tribes."

"I couldn't agree more, Stoick," Oswald shook Stoick's hand firmly before leaning in slightly. "I'm truly sorry about your loss, I heard from Jaune during the last trade. Valka was a valiant woman," he looked to the ground with a saddened expression till he was brought back to more peaceful thoughts. "Oh, I'm sorry to have pried. Stoick, I'd like to introduce to you my son, Dagur," he stepped to the side to allow a young red-haired boy of seven passage to the docks. He had intense emerald eyes and a sour look on his face as he stared down the tall chieftain before him before rolling his eyes around slowly.

"Boring! You said these treaty signings would be fun. I've been here ten seconds and Berk's as dull as a rock!" Dagur groaned and complained loudly.

"Please be patient, Dagur, I'm sure you'll find something here that strikes your interest," Oswald rustled his son's tightly braided hair which earned him an irritated cringe and growl.

Stoick looked down to the rude young lad, thankful his five-year old daughter wasn't ill-mannered like him. A thought crossed his mind if Hiccup was feeling better or if she needed extra furs or something to eat. Turning his head to see his house, his eyes caught the other children waiting above and a smile crossed his face.

"Aarne! Come here, won't you, son!" he waved to the blonde who eagerly nodded his head and raced down the slope to the pier right beside his chief at attention. "I'd like you and the others to show Dagur here around, make him feel welcomed."

Saluting his chief, Aarne looked forward with strong eyes before turning to the young future chieftain of the Berserker tribe. "Yes, sir. Follow me."

Dagur shot Aarne a curious look as he followed him towards the village. He was militant and direct, that was for sure, and quick to respond to authority and command. A sly grin crossed the young redhead. Perhaps forming a "friendship" with these idiots wouldn't be such a bad idea, Dagur thought as the blonde lead him towards the other Berkian children. For now, he'd keep a close eye on his new "friends" and play along while they were all too naïve to understand his deranged ways.

"So?" Dagur looked over the small lot of younger children before him. "Who wants to play a game?" he chortled hysterically while the others gave each other a look of utter dread, except Snotlout who was greatly impressed by Dagur's attitude.

This was going to be a long day…

…

Sizing each other off after a successful raid, the Whispering Death and the Night Fury circled around each other to settle a few scores outside the Hive. The Night Fury's claws gripped at the cold dirt of the island while Whispering Death rotated her tail, casting a ribbon-like shadow onto the earth.

As the years passed, so too did their growing hatred for each other. Every chance they got, they'd each go out of their way to make the other appear incompetent at their positions in the ranks. At eight, the Night Fury had grown significantly in size as well as intelligence. He was also, dare I say it, a bit of an insubordinate officer. He liked to make his own rules, try Red Death's patience, and venturing out on his down time; soaring high in the clouds and being as far away from his obligations as he possibly could before reality struck him once more, beckoning his return to his prison. Over the past three years, he went from scouting duties to perimeter patrol and was now fourth commanding officer, one rank below his third, the Gronckle whom raised him. With the promotions came the perks of being on top in the hive. It also meant more responsibilities. Now, if his quadrant failed to meet quota, it was his reputation on the line. He did his best to keep his soldiers straightened out and away from trouble, something he himself couldn't do but somehow managed to keep his battalions in the clear. He was still so young and was quite possibly the youngest officer ever in the hive but it was a position he earned, fought to keep and he wasn't about to have it questioned by the Boulder dragon before him.

"You got some nerve, Death! You know just as well as I do that location was sectored to my division!" he hissed as the two ensued on yet another turf war.

He and his crew were to be sectioned to the Isle of Berk for raids while her team was to go off to Outcast. Obviously, Berk was the prime location for livestock while the latter was barren on the surface but underneath its crust was crawling with animals. It seemed logical to him for her division to take the island of Outcast since she was a burrowing dragon and could easily dig out the sheep and oxen but she preferred to do as little work as possible due to her rank.

"The last time I checked, Fury, I outranked you!"

"And the last I checked, you were still on probation from last raids flop! What'd you do this time to weasel your way out of that?" The Night Fury was of course speaking of her arrogance over on her sector which managed to have nearly half her battalion captured or killed. From the look on Red Death's face when she returned with little food and fewer dragons, he was not pleased with her leadership.

The Whispering Death chuckled wickedly. "When you've lived as long as I have, you learn a way or two to get back on the prince's good graces. Honestly if you'd spend less time slacking off, you might actually amount to something."

The comment really bit the Night Fury the wrong way and before you knew it, both were tangled in intense combat, biting and tossing each other very colorful language before the cavalry arrived

"That's enough!" the Gronckle shouted as he and the Boneknapper shoved both dragons away from each other before they managed to kill Whispering Death managed to gain only a few claw marks over her right eye while the Night Fury held a fresh deep cut on the right side of his neck. "Will you two just breathe and try not to be at each other's throats for ten seconds?!"

Both dragons glared daggers to each other before finally separating. The Night Fury grumbled under his breath, mumbling how unruly and overconfident Whispering Death was with her position before returning to his dark cave to rest. He muttered a few more bitter words before the sound of someone crying echoed in his ears.

Looking around in the darkness around him, he knew he was alone but that didn't stop the faint whimpers from surrounding him till he realized he knew this sob. It had been nearly three days since he last heard this voice and a silent sigh escaped his lips. He did his best to forget her, the Mist Runner, as if she never existed and she never warmed his heart. She was gone, that was all that mattered… Then why could he hear her weeping from across the night and why did he yearn to go comfort her?

…

Seven-year old Hiccup's body lifted up to the sound of something downstairs. Immediately, a smile formed on her face as she ran to the steps and down to the front door where she opened it wide to…

Nothing.

Her smile faded as she hung her head low and closed the door once more for the eighteenth night in a row. She had been alone for eighteen going on nineteen days and she knew her father would be out for probably eleven more before his return. Walking over to the fireplace, Hiccup grabbed the tinderbox next to it and lit a roaring fire for warm but mostly so she knew she was still alive and could feel something other than sorrow. Whenever her father would leave, he'd do it before she'd awaken or even during the middle of the night and when morning came, she'd find herself in a quiet house that felt far too big for her.

The first time he did it she hid herself under the table for days till Gobber found her sleep deprived and starving, she was still four at the time and was still adjusting to her new life that somehow felt it started the day after her mother disappeared. He fed her, let her cry on his shoulder for what felt like hours before she finally collapsed in his arms with tears still falling from her unconscious face. After that night, she began to wonder around the house, doing little things to keep herself busy like cleaning and organizing. With her father gone, she took it upon herself to help the adults with counting inventory in the food storage and gave everything a proper spot till somehow it became her job.

Now that she was used to her father's routine of leaving without saying "goodbye" it still didn't make her feel any more secure. She could have really used him this past week when she was out in the forge. She had overheard several villagers talking about her and had spent the whole day wondering what they meant when they said what they said…

…

"It does appear that way doesn't it? I mean, she doesn't even resemble Stoick…" one woman had said by the entrance of the forge while Hiccup was in her study Gobber had just given her.

Hiccup knew it wasn't polite to eavesdrop but she couldn't help it, especially by what they were saying.

"I'm telling you, the gods must have known of Valka and her infidelities. It only makes sense as to why she was taken by a dragon," a male's voice said. Hiccup knew this voice well, Mildew. "The girl's got her mother's face, but I doubt she's even Stoick's child."

A small stream of tears fell from her face. It can't be true, she told herself. Not wanting to hear another word, Hiccup pulled the sheet to her study away and stormed out of the forge and ran straight into the forest, the woman covering her mouth in shame as Mildew snickered at his handiwork once they saw her zip by.

She didn't stop until she reached the cove where she kneeled by the water's edge and let her cries echo around the stone walls as her tears mixed with the pond below. She had to be her father's child, she convinced herself. Her father loved her…did he? Questioning it only made her weep more.

Opening her eyes, she looked into the water at her reflection. Mildew said she had her mother's face, and yet no matter how hard she tried she couldn't bring herself to see it. Where her mother's face was in her memories there was this empty black hollow void and it scared her every time she thought of it. She wanted her father. She wanted her mother. She wanted someone to hold her and tell her everything was going to be alright.

When she finally stopped crying she had the hiccups and it made her hate herself because that was her name. Hiccup. A weak little hitch nobody wanted and sought to get rid of. She was bubbling with anger now and began clawing at the soil, just trying to dig herself into a hole of darkness and never to return into light. By the time her arms got tired the tips of her nails were bleeding and covered in dirt. Looking down to the shallow furrow she made, she wanted to change everyone's mind.

She was the daughter of Stoick the Vast, she had to prove it to them. Washing her hands clean from the dirt and dried blood, she took a thick branch from the ground and marked out an area for her to grow herself a new identity.

…

Her body was still aching from gardening out at the cove the day before. From Gothi, she got some seedlings and read as much as she could on botanicals and harvesting crops. She knew it'd be a lot of hard work but in the end, it had to work. Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III was child of Stoick the Vast, chief of the Hairy Hooligan tribe and she was a Viking.

Closing her eyes, Hiccup let herself drift into sleep by the fireplace, feeling it wrap its warmth around her tired body.

…

Gobber and Hiccup made their way up a high clear slope on the hillside of Berk to test out a new battle defense catapult Hiccup had built to be easier to launch and throw projectiles farther than before. Hiccup sighed apathetically as they reached their desired location. Gobber looked to her and gave her a hardy pat on the back, the wind blowing through her short russet hair.

"Cheer up, Hiccup. Maybe next year, Stoick will let you compete in the Thawfest games."

"He made it pretty clear I was, and I quote, 'never to participate!' It's like he's afraid I'll make a mockery of the Haddock name or something... I shouldn't have even asked," she mopped as she calibrated the proper angles to the catapult for them to document the estimated average shooting range of the new device.

"He just doesn't want you getting hurt. The games can get pretty deadly," he said as he loaded the machine.

"It's not just the games, Gobber. It's everything, it's like I'm not even visible to him. I ask if we can have at least one meal together, he says maybe next time. I show him all the advancements I've designed for the village during his time out at sea; he barely looks at the blueprints and tosses them to the side. You know what we did together my last birthday?"

"What did he do this time?" he listened as Hiccup rambled her nine-year old heart out.

"Absolutely nothing. He completely forgot it, like every other year, but clearly remembered he had a training session with Aarne and spent the whole day with him while I did the laundry, swept the house, restocked the pantry and made his dinner before heading off to bed. Happy Birthday to me…" she droned dryly as she tightened the last spring.

Gobber looked to Hiccup with big blue eyes. It was difficult for him see her like this when all she ever wanted was for her father to just listen or even look at her. He had seen a drastic change in Stoick's demeanor ever since that fateful night. He rarely slept, ate, listened to reason but above everything he trapped Hiccup away like she was a sparrow locked in a cage. She needed to fly; to be herself and as long as she tried to impress her father by being something she wasn't, he knew it would probably be the death of her.

"Chin up, Hiccup. If these catapults perform well with the trails, I know it'll make me happy," Gobber smiled to her as he shifted the device twenty degrees to the left before grabbing the handle.

"No, Gobber with these winds the target will be…!" it was too late however as the tension clamp was pulled and the boulder went flying through the air till the sound of a loud bang rang out. They gave it four seconds till…

"STOOOOICCKKKK!" the trailing rattle of Mildew's voice spread to the farthest reaches of Berk.

"Duh, duh, duh, we're dead…" Hiccup could see the disappointed scowl on her father's face right about…

…

Stoick slammed his palm to the dining room table in front of a seated Hiccup, a slab of splintered wood under it as he glared at her silently.

"Shingle again? Didn't we have roofing material for dinner last night, ha-ha…?" she tried to lighten the mood but clearly her father wasn't impressed. "It was an accident, Dad… I'm sure Mildew is making it sound worse than it is."

"A huge boulder crashed through his roof, twice," he bluntly shouted.

She told Gobber not to reload, but did he listen… "Well, sure it sounds bad if you're gonna stick to the facts."

"Of all the houses on the island you had to hit Mildew's," he pointed outward for her to understand.

"In my defense, the distance from the catapult and the unfortunate location of his house happened to reach over a thousand meters meaning the new designs…," she wanted her father to not be so angry with her and for once to be impressed by her ingenuity. He, however, wasn't listening.

"Listen to me Hiccup, I allow you to work at the forge to help the people, not to destroy their homes with your silly inventions. I want you to march over to Mildew's house first thing in the morning and repair his roof and whatever else was damaged by your mess because whatever you do, reflects on me. Do I make myself clear?" he didn't have to ask, he knew she was listening to him.

Lowering her head in shame, Hiccup sighed softly before answering. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry." Shifting her seat outward, Hiccup walked towards the staircase and up to bed where she pulled the covers over her head and silently shed her tears.

Stoick sat down on his seat and sighed while his heart broke. He knew she didn't mean what had happened, but what choice did he have? Mildew kept complaining to him all morning how his daughter destroyed his home and that it was the job of the chief to do what was right. How he hated when Mildew pulled that card on him whenever Hiccup did something by mistake. As a father, he wanted to encourage her and for her to stay safe because she meant so much to him, but as a chief, he needed to keep a balance in order and any special treatment he gave to her would be seen as favoritism. To let off steam, he'd ask Aarne to do training not just to build up the lad's strength but for him to let out all this internal anger he had on the inside. Whenever he'd go out for long trips or raids, what kept him going was the thought that he'd find the nest and destroy it. He'd finally be freed of this curse and be able to hold his child knowing nothing in the world could ever harm her, but whenever he'd fail and return empty-handed he'd feel like less of a man and unworthy of being her father.

These were the days when he missed Valka the most because if she were here she'd know exactly what to say to the both of them for everything to be better. There were nights when he'd just lay awake staring at the bare and cold untouched spot his beloved used to sleep and wish her warmth were still there for him to hold. Some days he couldn't even bear to look Hiccup directly in the face because every time he saw her saddened expression he'd see Valka and he'd be reminded of what a failure he was for not getting to her in time. Maybe if he was faster or stronger be could have stopped everything and he wouldn't have had to have lost the love of his life and the light in his child's eyes.

Everything in life was broken and he couldn't fix it no matter how hard he tried.

…

Unhinging the mouth of the metal trap with his talons, Cloudjumper looked inside to see a frightened Snagglefang within, his right hind leg severed and bleeding profusely. Motioning over to Valka, she swiftly entered the opening of the trap and approached the male dragons, shivering as a creature in leather and a mask of various colors drew near.

Lifting out her bare hand, she slowly prowled towards the injured dragon, careful not to alarm him or see her as a threat. She had been seeing more of these lately, traps. One of Mans' cowardly ways to destroy such beautiful creatures off the face of the Earth. She couldn't allow that, not again. After losing her child, her blessed little Mist Runner, she returned to the mountain where the great Bewilderbeast accepted her as one of their own and she's remained there with them ever since that cruel day when her Hiccup's spirit was taken. Now, she and Cloudjumper roam the world, freeing enslaved dragons and other mistreated creatures along the way to make the world a safer place for them.

Slowly taking off her mask, she reached into a small sack she carried and dipped her fingers into the ointment within to sooth the wound and bleeding from the Snagglefang.

He was adamant at first, but once reassured by the Storm Cutter she was an ally, he allowed her to gently place the cool gel onto his cut. Once it was bandaged up and cleaned, Valka raised her curved wooden staff upward to Cloudjumper, who opened the trap fully to allow both her and the healed Snagglefang to exist.

They told the male dragon and the other prisoners of a haven where dragons were free of the cruelties of man, where they would be protected and watched over by a kind and just king. Agreeing to join them, they all took to the sky right as a young trapper was returning to check on his traps. They were all empty

"Drago is not going to like this…" he groaned pulling back his black hair.

…

Taking deep breaths, Aarne held his mother's axe close as he leaned against the wall of a neighboring house, peaking from the corner occasionally to ready himself for this. "This time, this time for sure," he narrowed his eyes before summoning all his willpower and emerged from the shadows and marched to the forge with purpose. Today was the day, he could feel it.

As he made his way towards the window of the forge, he could see Hiccup hammering away at a long strip of metal before tempering it in cool water and his heart fluttered wildly when she combed her bangs lightly with the tips of her fingers. Did she realize how beautiful she was or how the morning sun kissed her skin so wonderfully? He wasn't too sure but he knew he wanted to tell her that himself, whisper it to her ear and softly trace his thumb and index finger under her chin and kiss her tenderly.

He trained for years, molded himself to be the ideal Viking warrior, he even managed a few good conversations with her every now and then. Of course there were days where he'd just mess it all up by saying something cold and unsuspectingly heartless and earn her cold shoulder. But he couldn't turn back today, not now. He was almost fifteen for crying out loud and his darn adolescent hormones were telling him he needed to make the first move on the girl. He used to be so cold to her and he couldn't quite tell you when her presence began melting his heart but all he wanted to do was walk up to her, telling her exactly how he felt and hopefully she felt the same way as well.

Aarne tightened his palms as he remembered every moment he trained, every punch he'd deliver to Snotlout and Tuffnut when they made sexual gestures or comments about her either to her face or behind her back, he cherished every giggle she'd allow to escape her light voice and listen to it carefully as if entranced by a siren while out at sea.

He was so close, so close to just holding her in his arms and protecting her, keeping her close. All he had to do was prove it to her, show her how strong he had become. He wasn't the little boy who shied away from her "hellos" anymore, he was a changed young man and nothing was going to stop him from showing that to her. No storm, or man, nor beast would stand in his way to be with the woman he loved.

Today, Hiccup would be his.

"Hey," he coldly started. Aarne cursed his exterior coldness while inside he was warm and full of passion. "Can I get this sharpened?"