Hello, everyone!

To start, I just wanted to thank you for taking the time to check out the first chapter of this FanFiction. I hope you all enjoy it, and be sure to leave a review!

I don't own How to Train Your Dragon.

Out of all of his duties as Berk's Heir-to-the-Throne, sitting in on council meetings was by far Hiccup's least favorite.

He was more than happy to write letters to neighboring Tribes, clean out the dragon pen, put a stop to whatever mischievous deeds the twins were up to, and even listen to Mildew's ever-lengthening list of complaints about Monstrous Nightmares stealing his cabbages. But the council meetings were something Hiccup had come to hate with a burning passion.

In hindsight, life was easier for Hiccup before Berk made peace with the dragons. His dad was always too embarrassed to take him anywhere in public, and with good reason. The few times he was forced to, there was always an… unfortunate incident of some kind, generally involving a misfired contraption and a herd of sheep running rampant through the town. It had long surpassed being awkward; Hiccup was just walking, talking, bad luck.

But now, he was important. Inexperienced Vikings came to him for advice and help with their dragons, parents would come to him and Toothless to congratulate them on their acceptance as part of the tribe, and kids would bring him endless questions about how he had single-handedly defeated the Green Death (Though he appreciated the gesture, he couldn't help but wince at the stories of how he had learned to breathe fire and fly from the dragons). He was even expected to take on the role of Chief, some day. Despite the fact that this was probably always going to happen regardless of Hiccup's social status, there'd been a change in the mood of Berk towards him. Now people were willing to acknowledge the fact and, gods forbid, some were even happy about it. Though Hiccup didn't quite view it as the amazing inheritance everyone in town envied him for, he couldn't deny that he was glad to at least no longer be seen as the village screw-up — though, that wasn't to say he'd fallen out of old habits, of course.

Though he had never been told so formally, everyone in the village knew about his right to the title, and Hiccup knew just as well as anyone else that he would one day have to accept the terrifying fate.

Just not today, He thought, scrutinizing his drink. Scrunching his eyebrows and glancing up from his beaten-up mug of watered-down mead, he brought his mind out of his thoughts.

His father was trying to settle a fight gone hostile that had broken out between Sven and Mildew over wintertime ration distribution in the case of a blizzard, though it didn't seem to be going well.

Due to the worn and tired look on his father's face, it was rather obvious that Stoick had tried every diplomatic option, but couldn't get a word in edgewise. With a mustered expression of supremacy, the Chief sighed, pulled out his hammer, and slammed it down onto the table with more power than a Night-Fury's blast. Hiccup jumped as several of the nails long imbedded within the hardwood table popped out of their sockets, splinters flying several feet across the room as the Hammer made its mark. Hiccup was more than surprised that the thin boards didn't simply collapse inwards, however, Viking craftsmanship was bound to become… adaptable, as the years progressed.

Every Viking's head snapped to the Chief. This, of course, included Svenn and Mildew, and they began to untangle themselves from the strange and pathetic fight they had gotten them into. Stoick elevated his chin ever so slightly, the semi-braided strands of his long red beard raising in unison.

"ENOUGH!" The Chief's voice alone could have grabbed the village's attention - the hammer was simply for emphasis. "We have bigger problems on our hands, and your bickering is too petty for a meeting as serious as this." Svenn's head lowered in shame, but Mildew only tsk-ed and muttered something incomprehensible under his breath.

The Chief narrowed his eyes at Mildew, and proceeded to sweep his eyes across the rest of the large hall, daring anyone else to come forth with another complaint. When no one spoke up, his challenging expression cleared, and he nodded, satisfied.

"You all know of the Veiklaðar tribe?" A wave of muttering spread throughout the crowd at the mention of the hostile, neighboring clan, who'd gone from annoying and stubborn to dangerously opposed in the past few months. Whilst they had been neutral enough during the war, the small tribe had refused contact since their first diplomatic mission to the island, and they hadn't heard anything from them since.

"The whole lot of 'em have been becoming more and more bitter ever since we made peace with the dragons," his father continued. "First they refused our trade offers, then cut off all attempts at communication, and now our scouts have reported that they're amassing their fleet for an assault!" The candles and firepit in the Great Hall flickered, as another wave of muttering broke throughout the chamber. While everyone knew that the Veiklaðar tribe had a small armada compared to Berk — who now had dragons to protect them, as well — a full on assault, if executed correctly, could lead to deadly consequences for the Berkian natives. "Now, I know some of you have old friends in their tribe. Believe me, I should know better than anyone else," a rare glimpse of emotional turmoil was revealed on Stoick's face for a moment, before it was replaced with his usual, well, stoic demeanor. "But until we can find some way to solve this, we must treat them only as enemies." A chief protects his own, Hiccup recalled him once saying. Though he understood the importance of this, he couldn't help but think that some of his father's decisions in situations like these had been rather... rash, to say the very least.

"This is our problem, see?" A horribly familiar, creaky old voice ascended those hushed in the room, causing the scattered remaining warriors to go quiet. Hiccup groaned.

"As per usual, the problems all lead down to the blasted dragons. They're not meant to be around us!" Mildew croaked, stepping forward and pointing at Hiccup. He had recovered from his brief fight with Sven, and was, as usual, fully prepared to argue a useless topic once again. "We need them off this island!" At this, he turned around, and several Vikings, unidentifiable in the crowd, muttered their assent. A few even began raising fists.

Hiccup groaned. "We're much better off at peace with the dragons, Mildew. Why do you even care so much, anyway?"

As head of Dragon related events and issues, - just another one of the roles his Dad had been assigning him lately. As if the pressure of his everyday life wasn't enough - he was expected to resolve any dragon-related problems within the tribe, which was, not all too surprisingly, a much broader field than Hiccup had initially expected.

He wasn't lying when he said that they were better off than before - in his opinion, that was. The dragon raids had been Berk's foremost issue, and with that gone and the dragons actually helping Berk's production, it was hard for anyone to find too many problems with the dragons that didn't have good sides to them as well. Anyone, that was, except Mildew.

The old man ground his teeth together, scrunching his unkempt eyebrows into a straight line and opened his mouth. "You need to learn some manners, boy. When I was your-"

"Thank you, Mildew," The Chief cut him off, "but I think you could do to learn a few manners as well, isn't that right?" Staring at Mildew first, Stoick surveyed the several hundred people crowded into the hall once again, shooting daggers at those with their fists still raised, probably causing them to lower their arms and take a sudden interest in their boots.

With one final glare at the Village Chief, and Hiccup, Mildew whipped around and stormed back into the crowd.

Resting his head back in his chair, Stoick continued as though nothing had happened, "Right, Then. Now as to this week's patrol groups..."

After much discussion of various battle plans, most too unrealistic to even consider, the meeting was called to a close until further notice.

On the way out of the hall, Hiccup managed to pull his father aside.

"Dad, I could have handled Mildew on my own, you know. I know how to reason with people. Even Mildew - it's what I do."

His father creased his eyebrows and set his hand on Hiccup's right shoulder. "I know, son. I'm sorry. It's just that… I don't want you taking all of these responsibilities onto yourself. I'm not gone yet, you know."

Brushing off his last comment, Hiccup replied "It's just Mildew, Dad. I've dealt with him before."

His father sighed, and stared down at his feet. "I… Just…" He grimaced. "Be careful, alright, Hiccup?"

He smiled up at his father and nodded slightly, before turning toward the door.

Astrid was leaning against Toothless when Hiccup trudged out among the rest of the weary vikings. She would sit in on meetings from time to time, though she often had other things to attend to. What those things were, Hiccup could only guess.

"Hey, dragon-boy," Astrid punched him in the arm, though a smirk was on her lips.

When asked about it, Hiccup would oftentimes just say that he and Astrid were no more than friends. Though he couldn't deny that their relationship had become closer and closer as the weeks passed, to the point where Hiccup didn't know what to call his... situation, with her.

"Stormfly's back home eating some chicken," she nodded her head down into the village. "How was the meeting?"

"Tedious, as per usual," Hiccup replied. Something about her voice always lifted him up from his low points, though he could never quite say what it was.

"Oh yeah? Well, I thought that later on, we might be able to- WOAH!" Whatever she was about to say next, Hiccup would never know, as Toothless had leaped out to jump on him from behind Astrid, leaving her to fall not-so-gracefully onto her rear. It was out of sheer luck that she didn't go tumbling down the great stone steps leading up to the Great Hall. Then again, she was far more balanced than he. She probably could have cartwheeled down, if she'd wanted to...

The Night Fury proceeded to lick Hiccup until he was sure that he'd acquired no injuries during the meeting. Toothless might have been let into the Great Hall, if not for an unfortunate dragon-sneeze related fire that had happened just a few weeks before. As many times as he had apologized, his father and Gobber had refused to let Toothless in the Council Chambers since that day.

"Sorry, Astrid" Hiccup apologized, climbing out from under Toothless.

"It's alright," Astrid laughed, "I doubt Toothless enjoyed being away from you for so long, anyways."

It was true- where he hadn't seen Astrid very much lately, he and Toothless had been closer together than ever, going out on as many flights as they could before curfew, and even then stretching their limits in what was definable as "sunset," something Hiccup was more than used to, by that point.

"That reminds me," he remembered. "You and I are on the, uh, night patrol. I kind of... Signed us up for it..."

Astrid crossed her arms and rolled her eyes in the purest form of annoyance. Hiccup could only brace himself for the scolding he had expected from the moment he volunteered them.

"Why do you always do this Hiccup? You might be chief someday, but you can't just keep wearing yourself out with these things," she chided. "Besides, couldn't you just get someone else to do it?"

Hiccup stared at the ground and brought his hand up to the back of his neck.

"Well, both Fishlegs and Meatlug are afraid of flying in the dark. Uh, Snotlout doesn't really understand the whole "productive work," concept, and the twins—"

Astrid cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Enough said. It's difficult to stay mad at you as it is. Just… Try not to get yourself wrapped up in so many things, alright?"

Hiccup smiled at her, though refused to say any more words on the matter. "Alright. Now here's the scouting route," he replied, pulling out a map.

Though she didn't have a perfect vantage point for viewing the Dragon Conqueror and his Night Fury, a shadow was all Syl needed to stay concealed.

Troublemaker, she thought. What an absurd name. My mother knows that I'm the only person on the island that could pull this off. Hell, the whole island knows it. Bjarke and the rest of his crew couldn't hope to come within a mile of Berk without being spotted. That's why they wanted me, she smiled, that's why they need me.

Technically speaking, her reputation as a firebrand wasn't entirely false. For almost as long as she could remember, she had been, ah, borrowing things from people. Stealing was a word she reserved for herself - the former sounded better when she was caught in the act, which was… More often than she would have liked, in honesty. Sometimes it was just a slice of bread, other times a family heirloom… Regardless, she had experience in almost every situation, even if she hadn't quite mastered the 'getting away quickly,' part. But when she did… They never found her. And if what she had seen on Berk that day was any indication of their skill when it came to finding the culprit, or pursuit… Her work was practically done already.

As to why the village wanted the Chief taken out, that she could understand; dragons had plagued her Village and all of the islands she knew for years — to live with them, make peace with them, and invite them into their homes was more than a crime: it was a sin. It could not be forgiven, nor even tolerated. Death was a very permanent solution, she knew, but a sure one.

Unfortunately, they had only wanted for her to use this particular opportunity to gather information on him. Idiots. She had a much better plan.

The boy was the real problem — that was clear to anyone with half a brain on her island. He was the head of the snake, the one who had started it all. His death would be catastrophic, would send the whole island into turmoil — though most seemed to be convinced, there were still some who were less than happy with the village's more recent changes. And if they weren't going to deal with it themselves, nor the spineless louts on her own island... She would have to take matters into her own hands.

Of course, her task would also have been simpler if not for the little factor of the very offspring of lightning and death itself constantly guarding him. She had heard more than enough about it. The Night Fury's fall, the boy's taming it… They treated the kid like some sort of legend. Well, not for much longer.

The girl, on the other hand, seemed to be a warrior or shieldmaiden of some degree — something Syl had at least a grudging respect for, if paired with a bit of envy. She'd only been watching the two of them for a few minutes, but it was clear that she had an air of leadership and confidence about her, with the stubborn Viking attitude to enforce it. Perhaps she wouldn't have to take her down either, though she did seem like the kind of girl that could easily get in the way of her plans...

Shaking herself out of her thoughts, Syl realized that each of their voices was increasing in pitch — indicating an argument, as she knew all-too-well — and so she edged out of the shadows to listen.

"...go back to Thor's Rock? We'll already have passed over it several times by then, and besides, there's no way any sane Viking would ever plan an invasion there. We can just make another trip North of Raven's point and head back to the village."

"But what if they circled around the seas stacks? The cove there would be the perfect place for an invasion."

"Hiccup, it's almost as difficult to get around the sea stacks as it is to maneuver through Helheim's Gate. Their boats would have to be tiny - it would take months for them to get even half of an army in there. It'd be just plain… Idiotic, really."

"Fine," Hiccup replied, sounding quite tired. "Toothless and I will circle around Thor's Rock before we come back. You can fly back to Berk without me,"

There was a pause, before the girl replied, "Fine. But I don't want to stay out too late. There's something coming - I can feel it."

Hiccup laughed. "What are you so worried about? I'll have you, Stormfly and Toothless with me. It'll be fine!"

Syl couldn't believe her luck. Sure, a more precise location would've been nice, though with what she overheard, a simple bait-and-switch trap would do the trick. She had seen a small map of the island in the Blacksmith's shop earlier - she would have no trouble getting there. The Night Fury, however, could present a problem—

A yelp, followed by an unsettling purr caught her attention. "Are you okay, Astrid?" Hiccup asked.

So that's the girl's name. Syl made an internal note for reference, just in case, though she still didn't know who this 'Toothless' was. Though I doubt I'll ever need to hear either again.

"Yeah, it's only a scratch. Toothless didn't mean anything by it." This was followed by another one of those eerie purrs, that was both comforting and frightening to Syl at the same time. Shrugging off her chills, she started making her way back to the Blacksmith. She had work to do.

Half an hour later, Astrid walked out of Gothi's hut with a bandage around her arm.

She had neglected to nurture the cut for most of the day, having other duties to attend to — many of which Hiccup had signed her up for — but the wound had persisted, hurting more and more as the minutes went by, rather than healing as she expected it to, until it was such a distraction from her work that she had to do something about it.

Gothi was the best healer in the village by far, with one downside — she couldn't speak, or at least didn't like to. Why that was, nobody was quite sure. Some openly told stories of an adventurous upbringing, in which she never learned quite how to speak, whilst others whispered tales of an ancient dragon attack leading her tongue to be sliced off. Some even believed that she had been like that since birth. But no one, not Chieftains of the past or the present knew exactly why she didn't talk, and none dared to ask her.

Because of this, there always had to be someone in the village who knew how to read and write runes, numbers, and orthography. Luckily, Astrid's generation had several literates, and she was one of them, though she had never truly taken an interest in reading. Hiccup and Fishlegs had persuaded her to from time to time, and she did when it was necessary, though she simply tended to have better things to do.

Nevertheless, it had proven more than useful on several occasions, and this was one of them.

Astrid wasn't surprised to find Stormfly gone when she left Gothi's house. She had left her a few cooked chicken legs at their house for dinner, which she had traded for from one of the island's farms. One way or another, her dragon likely wouldn't be coming back to get her unless there was an emergency of some sort.

Guess I'm walking back, she sighed.

The scratch Toothless had given her still itched terribly beneath the cloth wrappings, though the pain from before had remarkably almost completely disappeared. Gothi had seemed quite contented with the mixture she had used for Astrid's cut, and she was already beginning to see why.

Trudging down the mountain toward the town, and deep in thought as she was, she didn't notice a large, black dragon and its rider descending rapidly from the sky onto her position.

"Hey-"

Astrid whipped around to find the source of the voice, moving her hand up to grab her axe before realizing that she had left it home. Useless, she chastised herself. If this was a real ambush, I would have been dead or captured by now.

Technically, she wasn't being entirely fair with herself. Since they had made peace with the dragons, Berk was twice as strong as it had been before, making it virtually impossible to launch a frontal attack against them. That was, unless you had a force more powerful than anything Berkians had ever seen… Though this too was very unlikely. The only dragon Astrid had ever seen that could rival Hiccup and Toothless in combat was the Green Death, and even it had been defeated by them. Then again, with the Veiklaðar tribe on the rise...

Despite the fact that he was sitting on a several-hundred-pound fire breathing reptile facing an unarmed girl, Hiccup automatically threw up his hands. Habits die harder than dragons, Astrid smirked, thinking about an old saying that Vikings had. Just another that should be changed, what with the recent changes around, Astrid frowned, making a note of it.

Saying it was difficult to adapt after the war would be quite an understatement, though the natives of the island had taken it much better than some of the neighboring tribes. Despite their long-time rivalries with nearby islands, Hiccup and Stoick together had managed to convince the majority of them not to attack any wild dragons they saw unless provoked by them, but only after sailing out to many of them individually as proof. Still, it wasn't much different from how it had been before, but it was a start.

"I was just wondering if you wanted a ride home," Hiccup asked.

"Thanks, but I think I can handle myself," she replied, rolling her eyes. Sometimes, Hiccup was just too nice about these things, if that was possible.

"It would save you twenty minutes of walking. Plus, we could, I don't know, talk about your day, or whatever girls like to do?"

"Hiccup-" Astrid began.

"Just… Please, take it as an apology from Toothless and I. It was an accident, but I don't want it to happen again. And neither do you, right bud?" Ears pinned down against his head, Toothless looked back at Astrid with eyes more innocent than a babe's. There had been plenty of occasions where it was hard to believe that this was the very offspring of Lightning and Death itself, and this was one of them.

Rolling her eyes once again, Astrid climbed onto the back of Toothless's saddle, swatting Hiccup's hand away when he offered to help her up. Still, she wrapped her arms around his waist, and leaned against him as he clicked the tailfin into place.

Toothless launched into the air, beelining for the Village. The itch only got worse.

It was little more than a hasty scratch the dragon had made on her arm when they were discussing their patrol route. Neither of them was paying attention, when Toothless had turned away from the maps towards a shaded corner outside of the hall just a bit too quickly for Astrid to react to, cutting her arm with one of his claws in the process. Nothing, really - Stormfly scratched her all the time. Though that was to be expected from a dragon who had spikes running along her entire body.

Toothless landed a few feet away from her abode, so as not to startle Stormfly or spook the nearby livestock.

"Thanks, Hiccup," Astrid said, smiling at him as she hopped off.

"Oh… Uh, no problem, Astrid," Hiccup replied, eyes darting to his saddle.

Astrid's smile turned somber at that. Though Hiccup had changed some, he was still the under-confident, quirky boy she had known a few years ago underneath his newfound confidence. Even a dragon couldn't hide that.

As soon as she had turned away, the two were already in the air again.

"Oh, and make sure Stormfly's saddle is secured," he yelled back through the wind. "We leave for patrols in five minutes!"

Syl didn't have time to admire her handiwork, other than to test that the trap would work properly. Once that was done, she quickly packed up what remained of her supplies, and headed off in the direction of the ship she was assigned to report back to. She had been stuck on the wretched island for a whole day. Luckily, that was all she needed to figure out how to eliminate the threat.

The mechanics of the trap were simple enough— A switch that was activated by a slight change in tension, which would pour a vase of lethal acid hidden in the tree above — her own mixture — onto the victim. A powder may have been more effective, but that was expensive, and guaranteed nothing, where this would be a doubtless and satisfying kill. She had left a little surprise for the Night Fury, as well. Oh, if that dragon really was attached to the weakling boy... Well, it would easily be the cruelest thing she had ever done. Still, if it meant revenge on the one who had made a false peace with dragons… It would all be worth it.

Unfortunately, she wouldn't be able to watch her plan unfold — if the dragon could… Smell her nearby, not only would the whole plan go awry; she could be killed, or caught. Each possibility was equally terrifying in her mind.

Running through the forest and thinking about these things as she was, Syl very nearly fell over the precipice of the ledge that served as the camouflage for the cove she had chosen as a rendezvous point.

Hiccup was right in thinking that Thor's rock would be an ideal place for an invasion; that had almost been chosen as the rendezvous spot, until Syl had warned her idiotic travelling companions otherwise.

It was true that she had been raised among them — once — though she personally didn't consider herself as a person who belonged to anyone, and had considered in plenty of instances some ideas that included a dark night, a small rowboat that wouldn't be easily seen, and whatever other low-life tribes she could live out the rest of her life in. Yet… She couldn't bring herself to leave them. She had no honorable ties to them, nor any respect, really. But he… He would want her to stay. And so she did.

And they… They need me, that's why, She reassured herself. If I wasn't there, they wouldn't ever get any information on Berk. Their plans revolve around my willingness to go through with them.

Still, it seemed odd that her mother had enlisted her for this so suddenly - for the past few years of her life, she had done nothing but yell at her or ignore her altogether. Yet just a few days before, she had sent her on a mission to Berk. And not just any mission, either - a quest of espionage, one that Syl had fancied and played out in her mind hundreds of times over, only dreaming that she might one day get the chance. Yet here she was. It seemed almost too good to be true.

But who knew? Maybe, if her mother was pleased with the information she'd acquired, as well as the elimination of one of their newfound enemies, they could actually get along again. Maybe they would stop calling her Syl in their mocking tones and treating her like such an outcast...

The cove was surrounded fully by trees, and had cliffs around half of it, making it nearly impossible to see, unless one was on top of it. Besides that, there was a small ship anchored just off of the rocky beach, with one or two foreign vikings stationed near some boulders on the shore, talking, drinking mead; Anything but what they should have been doing. If anyone from Berk caught them, they wouldn't be competent enough to make up a valid excuse as to why they were there. Not to mention the main sail of the ship — still the "old" style of a dragon being pierced by a sword on a gray field.

In any event, Syl was able to move well into the cove before they realized she was there.

"Halt! State your business here," One of the vikings said, finally noticing her. He held out his bludgeon, his facial expressions quickly becoming as serious as a drunken Viking's could be.

"Come on, Bjarke, you know who I am," she crossed her arms. "If it was anyone else coming in here, you'd be dead by now."

Bjarke's eyes narrowed. "What'd ye find?" His voice was so husky some said there was a rock stuck in his throat, and his heavy-set physical appearance accompanied by the uncombed beard was… Less than attractive, to say the least. Most ladies he even tried to talk to would generally run screaming before he could open his mouth.

"Oh, well, for starters, you might be pleased to know that while you were out here getting drunk, I spent my time saving our tribe." she replied confidently.

Bjarke's eyes widened in surprise and confusion. "Ye killed all the dragons?"

The sheer level of ignorance of Vikings would never fail to astound Syl.

"No... But I set an unassailable trap for this 'Dragon Conqueror' of yours. He certainly doesn't look the part, to say the least. Outside of the Night Fury, I doubt he's much of a threat when it comes to battle."

At this, some muttering broke out in the vikings behind her, eventually escalating into casual conversation, then finally, yelling.

"Ye' saw the Night Fury and the dragon conqueror?"

"I heard the beast is fifty feet long, with eyes that can pierce into your soul."

"My cousin Calder says he saw one once! Then again, he also says the world's just a giant ball—"

"QUIET!" Bjarke yelled back to all of them, turning to her with a wary expression, a whisper that didn't quite fit on his lips. "Did it follow ye' here?"

Syl rolled her eyes. "Of course it didn't. None of us would be here if it had."

Bjarke stroked the frayed and uneven braids of his beard.

"Interesting. What else have ye' learned about the dragon conqueror?" He asked.

Syl went into as detailed an explanation as she thought Bjarke and the others could understand the layout of Berk's defenses and weaknesses, and of course, the dragon conqueror known now as Hiccup.

When she finished, some of the Vikings began to file back onto the ship. "And Stoick the Betrayer? The Chief of the Village?" Bjarke raised an eyebrow, a suspicion already confirmed in his mind's eye.

Syl forced herself to keep looking at the barbaric, hairy man standing in front of her. "I… um... Wasn't able to find out much of anything about him, but-"

"I think I've heard enough, girl," Bjarke said it with a sneer, and turned to get onto the ship. "Yer' assignment was to bring back news about Stoick the Betrayer, not this... dragon conqueror."

Syl's mouth dropped open in pure bewilderment. "You are kidding, right? I've brought the tribe invaluable information about the dragons and defenses in Berk, and I can guarantee that the dragon conqueror will be killed within the next few hours. He's, like, enemy number one, isn't he? What've you done that's been any use to the village in the past ten years?"

Bjarke spun around quicker than she realized he could, obviously sobered. "Listen to me, girl. I've lived with my people for thirty-two winters, and I've never seen a girl who ain't 'spossed to be livin' among us more than 'ye, and ya know what? Yer' mother thinks so, too," Bjarke nodded to the other Vikings, and they began loading onto the ship and preparing to sail, as Syl's heart sunk down to her stomach.

"Maybe ye' can learn somethin' from the fools on this island. All I know is that Brenna don't want 'ye in our village no more. No more than anyone else do, fer' that matter. Yer' traps and tricks… We had hope for ye' once. You were just a girl — but yer' not, not anymore. We may not be able to kill ye… But a few years in exile will do just fine. Yer' kind don't belong with us. Ye' don't belong with anyone."

With that, he boarded the ship, along with the few remaining Vikings still on the rocky beach, and pushed the ship into the water with several paddles.

Snapping out of her shock, Syl ran to the rocky coast and waded into the knee-deep water, desperately trying to reach the retreating vessel.

"You… You don't know what you're up against! I lied, okay? The conqueror, he really is huge, and he… Agh!" she tripped over something in the now waist-high sea, splashing down into the bitter saltiness of the sea below her. She screamed, gasping for air, as a wave splashed over her head, drenching her clothes, and filling her eyes and lungs. The waves continued carrying her back into shore as the ship grew further away.

The remaining Vikings on the boat drew their oars from the deck, ignoring her, and thrust them out into the water. A deep, echoing drum began to beat, when Syl finally gave up her struggle in the waves.

"YOU NEED ME!" She cried out. Her vision was only beginning to recover, though she had at least gotten close enough to the shore that the waves only lapped around her ankles and hands.

Only Bjarke's outline was visible in the fog, which was quickly consuming the boat as it reached the sea stacks. "Y've more than served yer' purpose, 'er at least done what we expected ye' to. Brenna can see what yer' becomin'. She don't like it, and neither do I, nor the rest of the village. Yer' faulty traps, and stealing from yer' own people?! Who would do a thing like that? The point is, if you ever show your face in the village again, you'll be treated like any enemy would be." Whatever he said next faded into the enveloping maw of the fog, and the crashing of the waves and distant beat of the drum were all she could hear through her muffled, water-drenched ears.

Syl, by this time, had clambered her way out of the rising tide, desperate to be out of the water — the same waters that had killed her father.

After screaming into the encroaching gray void for several minutes, Syl finally collapsed onto the rocky ground of that stupid, wretched island as the tide receded and advanced, her hair like a veil draped over her head, and broke into tears. She sat there and cried quietly for what felt like hours, taking no notice when it started to rain.

Perched on Stormfly, Astrid peered as far as she could across the island. A heavy fog was rolling in from the North, with storm clouds not far behind. It would likely reach Berk before Twilight— something Astrid knew she would be responsible for warning the village about later on.

Though it hadn't quite set yet, the sun had long since begun its descent below the edge of the existence. This, combined with the already overcast day, reinforced Astrid's fear that it was about to become very, very dark, very soon. It was true that Stormfly was able to see quite well in the dark, and Toothless even better, (though she would never let Hiccup and Toothless hear her say that; she had too much pride in her dragon) but in a thunderstorm, Neither of the trainers could see even a few feet in front of them, nor could their dragons fly well.

Just hovering below the cloud level, Astrid had to yell to Hiccup over the wind, despite the fact that they were as close to each other as their dragon's wingspans could allow.

"THERE'S A STORM COMING! WE'LL NEED TO HEAD BACK SOON!"

"WHAT?" He asked, cupping his hand around his ear.

"I SAID, THERE'S A STORM COMING!" She yelled back, her vocal chords straining to be louder. Hiccup nodded.

"I SAW! WE'LL JUST MAKE A FEW MORE LOOPS AROUND THE ISLAND, CHECK ON THOR'S ROCK, THEN HEAD BACK AND WAIT FOR THE STORM TO PASS!"

Astrid nodded reluctantly, and Stormfly dove back down towards the water, Hiccup following close behind.

They'd been flying for what seemed to be hours, and though she knew it wasn't, she was already growing tired. It wasn't that Astrid didn't enjoy flying, nor did she miss the Twins' schemes and incompetence, or Snotlout constantly finding new ways to flirt with her, but patrols were just so utterly boring. They had already circled the island seven times, several in which Hiccup deemed it necessary to search through coves and islands, even some of the smaller caves, at times. Though they had found absolutely nothing hinting at the smallest sign of an invasion. Astrid's eyes had already been sprayed to the point of tears by the salty air, and the prospect of going to Thor's rock again was not an exciting one.

Suddenly, Astrid became aware of Hiccup yelling something frantically to her from atop Toothless, and she dragged herself out of her thoughts.

He was pointing towards a long field cutting through the forest several hundred feet below them. Although Astrid couldn't see anything too alarming, she trusted Hiccup's instincts, and thus followed him as he and Toothless went into a dive.

Closer to the ground, Astrid could see a small shape darting in and out of the rocks and bushes near the edge of the clearing— it was running away from them.

"Stormfly, spike trap... Now!" At this, her dragon launched a volley of spikes in front of the quickly escaping… Girl. Astrid could see long black hair flowing behind the escaping intruder, falling out of protective braids meticulously folded behind her head. Only a girl could have that much patience, Astrid thought, smirking. She had never been one for fashion herself, always favoring the more practical, but that hadn't stopped the women of the village from trying to instill a sense of elegance in her since birth.

The girl easily bounded over the spikes lodged in front of her, almost as if she had... Anticipated them.

Astrid didn't have time to think about it— the girl was quickly approaching a more dense part of the forest. If she was able to reach it in time, they would have to follow on foot, as their dragons wouldn't be able to fly through the tightly-packed trees.

They were about to lose her, when Hiccup went to his final resort: he pulled up on Toothless, with his claws poised in front of him, pulling his wings close to his body, ready to grab her. A little extreme, even for him, but if she was up to something—

But At the last possible moment, the girl heaved herself to the right, jumping into some nearby brush for cover. Toothless, in confusion, instinctively went into a roll, disregarding his rider.

"TOOTHLESS!" Hiccup screamed, tumbling off of his dragon's back and onto the ground, whilst Toothless dove face-first into the ground in a panic.

"Hiccup!" Astrid screamed.

Stormfly made a hasty, less than graceful landing, the chase forgotten.

Jumping off Stormfly, Astrid sprinted to Hiccup, who was sitting on the ground, holding his stunted leg in a not-quite-right position, grimacing in pain.

"Hiccup! What happened? Are you okay?"

Hiccup talked through his teeth, wincing with every word he spoke. "Fine… Will... Get better… Just... Get… Girl…" Remembering the girl, Astrid whirled around in the direction of the bushes, only to see a tuft of hair quickly disappearing into the woods.

"No, Hiccup, you're more important. We'll catch her late—"

Hiccup grabbed onto her side with his left hand, looking up at her with a fierce determination in his eyes that she rarely saw.

"Just… Go… Please…" He grimaced, and went back down into a protective position.

Disheartened, Astrid had run back to Stormfly, and was climbing up into the saddle, before Hiccup yelled out, then shrieked in pain from the effort.

"No! Ah… Take Toothless… Faster…"

Though she would never admit it to his face, Astrid knew that Toothless was twice as fast as any other dragon on Berk, even with a mechanical tail. In turn, Hiccup rarely bragged about Toothless' incredible speed, or even talked about it.

Hesitantly, Astrid walked over to Toothless, who had righted himself after his own rough landing, and was sniffing at Hiccup's leg with concern.

Placing her hand on his snout first, she climbed onto his intricately-crafted saddle, sliding her foot into the tailfin adjustment mechanism.

It clicked uselessly a few times, before it finally caught. It was then that Toothless seemed to take note of what she wanted to do, and he growled at Hiccup, refusing to take off.

"No… Bud," he frowned. "I'll be fine… Really… I'll have Stormfly, here... Just go and find her for me… I'll be right here..."

He purred at him again before, with clear reluctance, spreading his wings.

The two of them launched into the air.

Her eyes instinctively went back at Hiccup and Stormfly on the ground. She saw him look up at her and smile, before grimacing and turning his attention back to his leg.

Astrid was brought back to attention by Toothless, who was screeching in her direction to signify that his tailfin needed to be changed for whatever he was about to do.

Astrid adjusted her footing again and clicked it into position, assuming that was what Toothless needed it to be in.

With one final look down at Hiccup and Stormfly, Astrid turned her eyes back to the forest, searching for any sign of the trespasser. She knew Stormfly would keep Hiccup safe, and doubted the girl would be stupid enough to return to the clearing, but Hiccup's safety wasn't what she was worried about. Astrid knew Toothless would likely kill her if anything happened to Hiccup while they were out searching, and that he could be at his side in a matter of seconds if he thought he was in trouble, but still...

Brushing her thoughts aside once again, Astrid grabbed onto Toothless's saddle as he flew over the trees, in pursuit of the intruder.

Astrid groaned, and Toothless purred quietly in response.

They had searched the forest and hills for well over an hour, circling over Hiccup a few times to ensure his continued well-being, to no avail.

Whoever this trespasser was, Astrid had to give her credit on her hiding skills. It was hard enough to evade Astrid as it was, but with Toothless's eyesight, hearing, scent, and flight-advantage, she had expected they would have found her moments after taking off.

Hiccup's words from a short landing to check on him still clouded her mind. His leg seemed to have been better — somewhat — and Astrid hadn't seen any external injuries, though that could be both good or bad, or both. Astrid remembered him saying something about a pin, though nothing beyond that. At the very least, he was able to make full sentences again.

"Are you sure you don't want to take Toothless?" Astrid asked him. She didn't mind riding on Toothless, though she would have preferred for him to be at Hiccup's side, and so would the Night Fury, judging solely based on a number of times he had looked back in Hiccup's direction during the search.

"I don't think it would be very safe for me to fly on him right now, with my leg like it is," he'd responded, frowning at his man-made addition. "Just make one more-agh-trip around on Toothless. Then we'll head back to the Village, and Dad can get a proper search party out. We need to find that girl. She's not from Berk, she can't be. And you saw — the way she dodged Stormfly's spikes… It's like she anticipated them, knew they were coming. Who knows what else she's learned about our tribe, our defenses, our dragons?"

Astrid had only nodded. Standing above her protective instinct to fly him back to Gothi's and fix whatever was wrong with him as fast as she could, she had to agree that finding this intruder was just as important for their tribe. And yet…

"Hiccup, I just want to know you're okay. I know finding her is important, but…" her words had trailed off, as Hiccup looked up at her with eyes so warm, that they could rival Toothless's own.

"I'll be fine. Stormfly is one of the fastest and most dangerous dragons on the island. Nothing will happen to us. Now, find that girl!" With little more than a curt nod, Astrid turned and rushed back to Toothless, heaving herself onto his saddle.

"And, Astrid?" His voice had caught. "Uh… Be careful, okay? I… I don't want anything to happen to you," He had looked at his leg sheepishly, until his expression turned back to frustration.

Giving him a smile, Astrid had turned her head back to the sky, and dragon and rider took off into the sky.

That had been half an hour ago. Desperate to find the girl before sunset, Astrid had flown Toothless to every place she hadn't looked yet on the island. The sky darkened as the sun receded and the storm clouds moved frighteningly closer to the island. Judging only by its size, it would likely end up being the largest storm Berk would see that fall, perhaps even all year.

Lying back on Toothless mid-air, Astrid sighed to herself. They had been searching for eons. How hard could it really be to find—

A glimmer below her somehow managed to catch her eye. The very fact that she had seen anything at all amazed her, and above Thor's Rock, of all places!

"Toothless, take us down to… whatever that is," she told him with newfound energy. It was still nearly impossible to see what it was, but it was quite obviously, well, shiny. Was the girl really stupid enough to leave something out like that?

Toothless landed on the edge of the clearing on the opposite side of the mysterious object. Astrid hopped off of the Night Fury and surveyed the area. An ambush was unlikely, but still always a possibility. Though none of the warning signs for an attack were present, Astrid figured it wouldn't hurt to tread carefully here. Together, she and Toothless crept around the edge of the small clearing, each as quiet as a mouse, until they reached the object.

It was a shield. Not a specifically ornate one, though enough to create the glimmer she had seen hundreds of feet above it. But it seemed familiar, for some reason… Of course! It was one of Berk's own training shields. Why, she'd used it time and time again back in the arena, only months ago.

She reached down and started to pick it up. Honestly, she wondered, Why would someone leave—

There was a harsh CLICK as she picked it up, and the sound of something snapping. Toothless screeched.

Oh, NO.