Hello, welcome to this, the continuation of The Viking and the Night Fury. When we last met, Hiccup and Toothless fled from Berk and have now began a new life on Dragon Island, leaving the Vikings of her home with guilt and sorrow. From now on, the people must learn, change, accept and grow together with dragons as well as face encounters from new enemies, dragons and face a force far more powerful than anything they had ever faced. This story will contain references to the films as well as the television series. This story is a Fem!Hiccup tale. Rating to do posted as M for violence, mention of blood, and dark themes of the mind. Posting this fan fiction 9-22-2014. Thank you and please enjoy.

…

There was laughter and the sound of tankards colliding harshly with the many tables around the tavern over on one of the main islands of the Caribbean. Many of the men enjoying themselves here on this dark night of rumbling storms, heavy rain and blistering winds were experienced dragon hunters, exotic animal killers and cutthroats from the farthest reaches of the globe. As the clashing of thunder shouted from above, the sound of flutes, tambourines, drums and unusual stringed instruments fueled many into dances and bouts of testosterone filled fury as fists were thrown from across the room.

On the far cover, was a tall built man, cloaked in soft fur as he fiddled with a small necklace of crystals between his fingers. He was a man building an army, an empire for himself and soon all the happy and free people of the world would bow down to him alone. You see this man, this Madman, had a special weapon with him that allowed him access to power far greater than any could imagine. It made him a god among men and he enjoyed the look of utter fear in the eyes of the weak.

As he took a hard gulp of his liquor, several of his trappers arrived to give him the latest report.

"Just like you predicted, Drago, the dragons here are nasty little beasties, but we managed to wrangle up thirty-nine this evening," a tall man with dark hair by the name of Eret handed him the checklist he had given to him. Drago was one of his most valued and -dare he say- most feared customer he came across, he didn't like to be disappointed.

Looking over the list, Drago Bludvist could see everything he had ordered was marked off, many in pairs which he liked, it made things easier for him if he was able to breed and grow his armada to perfection.

Bringing his smoking pipe to his lips and taking a fair huff, he held in the sweet flavor until it burned his lungs in the most pleasuring ways till letting it out slowly into Eret's face. "And the 'Vigilante'?"

The trapper knew this question was bound to come, they had been having some problems over the past few years with a self-righteous renegade bond on foiling their expeditions. "There was a confirmed visual, but other than that, no new information has turned up."

Drago breathed in the smoke once more, the red flickers of fire from the pipes end brightening his features, laced with scars and an indifferent expression. It almost gave him a demonic look. "Well make sure he doesn't interfere, I've already lost too many dragons to that rebel." He paused for a moment before asking. "By the way, how is your son?"

From the far side of the tavern, the loud laughter of a man in violet apparel retold stories of his travels over the sea and usually conversations like this were of little to no interest to Bludvist, but there was something the young merchant had said that caught his attention. Without notice, he rose from his seat and slowly marched over to the salesman. Every step he took seemed to make the room appear darker and the men all around the tavern became quiet as he approached closer, even the musicians had stopped strumming and playing their tunes.

When Johann could feel the eyes of someone glaring at him, he held his breath and slowly turned over to see a large bear-like man with long dark hair styled in dreadlocks.

"What was it you just said about a 'furred dragon'?" Drago demanded rather than asked as he clenched his fist.

"Um, well you see now, Master Bludvist, on my travels I came onto an island located on the Archipelago. There, an elderly man told strange tales of witnessing a fur-coated dragon with a wolf-like body and teeth of razor-sharp gems. It was such an unbelievable tale, wouldn't you agree…?" Johann did his best to stay calm around this man, he had heard things, terrible things about what he could and would do to people.

Drago allowed this information to settle in for a moment. It couldn't be… he thought to himself. There was no way that dragon could still exist, his ancestors made sure none survived and he wore the pelt of the last one to have ever been hunted, a gift passed down from generation to generation in his family.

"When did this man claim to have seen it?" he pressed on as he pointed his bull hook at the man.

"Uh, let me see… Ah yes, I believe it was three years ago."

Information like that was old news but if it was true, then one or more could still be out there. He already had the powers of the gods in his hands, what more could he become if he had that creature as well? Drago looked to the frightened merchant, possibly no older than twenty and noticed the small piles of blueprints by his feet.

"You are a salesmen. Let me see those," he insisted and Johann made no attempt to deny the fearsome man what he wanted. Taking one of the rolled up sheets, he opened it to see the designs of something he had never seen before. It was a steel trap, lined with metal teeth and clamping gears. The concept was simple but genius in its simplistic design and function. He took hold of another of the same engineer and another, loving every passing creation meant to trap, entangle and kill dragons. His eyes glanced to the bottom where the name of the architect was written in the Viking language, H. Horrendous.

A crooked smile laced his face as he imagined what kind of twisted and diabolical mind this man, H. Horrendous possessed. They were a lot alike it seemed and he enjoyed that very much. Looking back to Johann he lifted the man by his cover and held him at bay, glaring into his eyes.

"Bring me more of this man's works and thank him for me, it seems my luck has just increased."

Johann could do nothing but nod as he lowered him back to the floor, paying him triple what he was to charge for the works. He wondered if he should tell the Madman the blueprints he had just purchased were not made by a crazed man with a vendetta against dragons, but a frightened little seven-year old girl trying to make the world a safer place...

…

Hope.

If the people of Berk could tell you, they'd say the most precious entity they forced from their home, was hope. In the form of a young woman, whose tears of ages past, seemed to fuel the rain. As the tears from heaven fell to the earth and drank of it as if parched, so too did her people thirst for forgiveness. By the end of the first week of her departure and the morning sun rose to start again; the clouds stopped crying, leaving the skies grey. The world was wet and calm as another great pine fell from its base and onto the muddy soil below, spattering the vicinity of its landing with Earth's blood.

Panting heavily, with hair and body laced in thick beads of sweat, Aarne Hofferson glowered at the dull world around him as his heart filled with pain. His axe in his right hand twitched along with his sore arm before he turned swiftly and swung his weapon hard onto another thick tree repeatedly before it was cut down like the rest. He had done this since before the rain had stopped and managed to clear away a fair radius of the area he surrounded, just letting off steam. Hours ago when he first started, pure rage and self-hatred drove him to near lunacy as he shouted to the pouring black heavens "Why!?" Once his vision began to blur from the burning sensation from either the rain or the tears he secretly wept, he grew silent, but his blade wasn't done screaming. Taking a step forward onto a small puddle of rainwater, his body finally collapsed after reaching his breaking point and still his soul ached far more than his body ever could.

For a moment, he wondered if this was how she felt every day. If she experienced this trapped feeling of depression and just wanting to scream out at the top of her lungs like nobody was around to hear it. He truly respected her for concealing all the pain, the misery, the fear and continue on with a small smile as if nothing bothered her. Aarne had always been strong physically, but he still had much training to do before he could recover his broken spirit.

Closing his eyes, he fell into darkness over the branches of a fallen pine.

...

The feeling of movement and the sound of feet colliding with puddles roused Aarne from his trace. Opening his eyes, the world around him was slowly moving forward but his legs and body were stagnant. It was when he felt the warmth of another that he gave out an unsatisfied sigh.

"Put me down," his words felt sore, tired. Even his arms, which were limp over the individual and with his axe still in his right hand, were telling him he had enough.

"Not in your condition, lad. I've already told you, you need to rest," the voice carrying him on its back told him.

"How can I rest with her gone…" he was huffing out his speech as if it was a battle within itself to speak and breath all at once. "I have to…to keep going… I can't, I won't lose to Him." Aarne's eyes tightened shut when the man carrying him landed too forcefully over a fallen tree trunk. It stung, he knew it, but inside he was so numb the feeling of pain merely tickled his bones.

"Hmm…" the man carrying him hummed for a moment as they pressed further towards the greyed village. "You know…she always said the same thing about you."

"What are you talking about?" Aarne was too fatigued to have actually listened to the bothersome man.

Gobber smiled to himself, though it wouldn't have mattered since the young man on his back was too out of it to have cared or noticed. "I have something to show you."

After a few more hurtles, they made it to the border of the village where men and women went about with a melancholy stance to and fro. Berk seemed quieter. The sparrows refused to utter out a single song and even the wind it seemed had nothing to say to the once bright Jewel of the Archipelago. It wasn't too long ago that the streets were filled with merry sounds of laughter from all, just happy and prevailed to have come home or to see their loved ones embrace them with open arms. Now the very people whom were so filled with joy paced around aimlessly as they began to realize what they had lost. The first thing that was noticed was the absence of the melody from the grinding stone that awakened them soothingly from sleep; while to many the sound was always a remainder of new chores and things to do, without its harmonious serenade the whole world seemed out of balance. They never realized it before, but she was their timekeeper. And it didn't stop there: the food storage which was slowly being restocked, mostly contained small barrels of dried or aged meats and fish, cheeses and grains; it lacked the usually abundant supply of produce they all took for granted until the meats and fish were gone, the cheeses froze or spoiled and the grains were used for livestock or diminish when pesky fowls would sneak in. Thinking it over now, it should have been obvious she was pulling the load of feeding them all these years, what with Mildew's crops consisting solely cabbages. On top of that, everywhere they'd turn they'd see the little inventions and advancements she left behind and spent so much time working on for their sake like their indoor plumbing, the large portable water crates used to carry a single load of liquid rather than making several trips to the well, or the catapults now collecting dust from their newly found peace.

She never once asked for a thanks or recognition for her hard work and even if she had, would they have given it to her? That alone made them all feel lesser than dirt. They exploited her constantly, only demanding more and more. And she not once refused their orders. She'd just nod her head obediently and do it. Was it because she felt it was her duty? Her birthright to solely provide so selflessly for others and to neglect one's own happiness? If so, what a tortured life she must have lived there with them all.

When Gobber and Aarne finally made it to the forge he sat the young Viking down on a stool before rummaging through a crate hidden off to the far side of the workshop. After moving things around he finally found what he was looking for and walked over to Aarne to show him the treasure in his hands. Aarne slowly reached out for it. It was a small wooden chest with no clear markings or design, just a simple box.

"The real treasure is on the inside," Gobber insisted.

Giving the elder man a glare, Aarne placed his sore palm over the lid and opened the chest to find a small polished dagger that flickered silver by the light of the fire pits flame. The entire body was no more than six inches in length and was completely metal with no patterns or leather bindings but the handle's end appeared so smooth and blunt with the shape of a dewdrop as opposed to the typical handle one would find on a regular blade. Both ends of the daggers edges were precisely even and the tip looked so shape that it could slice through the very air and render it into pieces. At the very center of the dagger was a slight arch that angled the blade perfectly. To Aarne it looked more like an art piece than an actual weapon, it was beautiful.

"Don't let its beauty fool you, it's still a deadly weapon and needs to be respected as one," Gobber started as he looked over the various weapons still hanging on the walls. "Of all the swords, axes and maces I display here in the shop, that's the one I keep hidden and away from sight."

Aarne lifted his head to listen to the smith's words closely.

"It's the first weapon Hiccup ever made," Gobber added.

Blue eyes widening, Aarne looked back to the blade and was at a loss for words. Hiccup was still so young when she started working at the forge, meaning this dagger was a little over ten years in age and still held its luster and pride.

"She had the natural talent for it, so we began working together, sharing secrets and learning from one another. It never felt like I was talking to a child but rather a sage mastered in the ways of the sword and steel," he chuckled slightly before continuing. "She reminds me so much of her great-grandfather in that respect… When I had asked her why she wanted to work in the forge, she said it was to protect her people with all her strength and to make her father smile again. As the years passed, she was able to defend the village by crafting machines and mending blades, but she was never satisfied because the smile she wanted from her father…was given to you." He paused as Aarne's breath hitched from hearing that. "After that, her goal was to beat you in winning her father's affections and attention. I'd catch her working here till the late hours of the night, just hammering away till she'd either collapse from exhaustion or somehow managed to finish her projects and sleep in her study till the last hours of night faded. But even at that, she couldn't get Stoick to utter out those little words she wanted to hear. In the end, she nearly let her jealousy consume her till one day she finally just stopped trying so hard because she figured it was hopeless. To Hiccup, you were the better Viking."

Aarne closed his eyes and took in all of Gobber's words. It all became clear to him, her bitterness towards him at times. It wasn't him she truly hated, it was the idea he was taking her father from her. In a way he could understand how she must have felt. He had felt the same way about her special someone before realizing it was a dragon. He had only six days of complete jealousy eating him away before the revelation occurred to him that she had years of feeling that envy. Did he really hate 'Toothless'? Or was it the idea he had won her affections so easily while he continued to work himself to death? He didn't know the answer to that and it scared him in a way. For now, Hiccup was gone, but not forever. If he wanted her back, he had to take a step back, and change his approach. He needed to relax. Taking a deep breath, Aarne knew what Gobber was telling him.

"I'll take it easy… Just, can I look at this for a little longer?" he motioned to the dagger weakly.

Walking forward, Gobber lightly pressed his hand onto Aarne's shoulder pad. "Take as much time as you need. Bones…" he called out to the far side of the forge where his Boneknapper had been napping. Hearing Gobber, he lifted his head towards the back door. "Watch the forge until I get back. You know what to do."

Bones nodded his head eagerly and with that, Gobber left the young man on his own to go check on another soul who needed to be reminded to start moving forward.

…

Taking in the last basketful of fish to the arena, Gustav whistled to let the sleeping dragons know breakfast was served. It had become the new routine since Hiccup left the island and entrusted him with the Dragon Manual. At first he was sad because she wasn't there for him but luckily he had Fanghook, his Monstrous Nightmare as well as Sharpshot, Hiccup's Terrible Terror to look out for him as well as the arena dragons who over time grew accustomed to his presence. As he sat down at the center of the stadium, he watched as the dragons emerged from their pens towards the meals prepared for them.

The first to exit out was the Deadly Nadder as she scoped her surroundings before taking the steps out to the pile of fish before her. While the island of Berk itself seemed to be laced in a thick fog of misery and gloom, the sea stack where the arena was located was away from the haze and able to witness the bright glow of the morning sun. After her, the red Nightmare and mustard-colored Gronckle walked out and gorged on their breakfast. The last to exit was the Zippleback, one head not yet ready for the day.

"How is it that you're the first to sleep but the last to rise?" the right headed brother asked his still sleeping left headed half as his neck drooped downward in dreamland.

"Just five more minutes…" the left head lazily managed as his side of the body was being dragged by the awakened one.

"That's what you said yesterday, and the day before that and the day we were hatched. It's a wonder you ever get anything done," the right grumbled as he munched onto a salmon.

Fanghook himself had already eaten and was curled right by Gustav, his little sparrow friend bouncing from his horns to Gustav's on his helmet as he watched the dragons dine. He had wondered when the little guy would leave and return to the forest to look for his mother, but it seemed the sparrow had imprinted onto him and to be honest he didn't really mind at all.

"So, what's the plan?" the mature Monstrous Nightmare asked as he finished his meal.

"Weather's perfect to leave. Are you sure you wanna stay, Nadder?" the Gronckle added as she faced the blue female, still only halfway done with her fish.

"My decision hasn't changed since. This place isn't our prison anymore. To me anyways… I'm not going to stop any of you if you choose to go."

Musing over her words, the crimson Nightmare looked towards the corn and eggplant adolescent. He was about his age when he was captured from his home and placed behind a cold stone cage. He watched and listened as his fellow dragon brethren were slain here at this very sight and the smell of their innocent blood still laced the air. There was this one scent however that seemed to keep them all there. Near the end of the arena grounds was a spot with the traces of sweet grass and something else they couldn't quite understand but knew it was comforting was trapped under the very stone itself. Sometimes they'd all huddle right beside it and wonder what it could be till they realized it was the fragrance of the girl who saved their lives and people. Hiccup, if they remembered correctly. While they had only met her once, with the exception of the Zippleback, they could feel this pull inside that prevented them from going because they knew she'd be back one day. True they could all just go out and search for her but what of the boy, Gustav, who had taken the time to care for them and feed them when they choose to stay? It was a difficult choice.

Picking himself up, the Nightmare walked over to the younger one and looked down to him. "Hey, kid…"

"Fanghook," he replied.

"What?"

"My name's Fanghook, not kid," the sparrow seemed to agree with this by circling over Fanghook's head before landing on one of his right horns.

"Sorry…Fanghook. What reason do you have to stay? You were not imprisoned, so why be here?"

"Oh, Gustav. I'm here because he's my brother, so to speak. I'm his dragon and he's my rider."

"Rider?" the Nadder approached the two as she finished her food and joined the conversation.

"Yeah. He rides the saddle and I fly around. But we don't just ride together, we share meals and go work in the forge, oh and Sharpshot's there too but today he's over with Hiccup on her island," Fanghook added.

Now the left head of the Zippleback was awake and wanted a piece of the talk. He stretched his neck and body towards them as far as he could while his brother ate for the both of them. "So wait, you're telling us you stay with the kid…"

"Gustav," Fanghook corrected.

"Yeah, yeah, Gustav. You're saying he's like, your bro and you two go on radical adventures and he doesn't even force you to do any of it?"

"That's right."

Thinking it over, the left head popped an idea, not one of his strongest suits but he tries. Tugging his body and other half, he did his signature move that more often than not, annoyed the living daylights out of his other half.

"Bro, Bro, Bro, Bro, Bro!" he did this till the right gave up and slow made his way towards the rest of the group, the Gronckle now joining the crowd.

"It's too early for this…" the right headed Zippleback sighed.

"I want a Gustav," his brother commanded.

"…You can't have a 'Gustav', he's already partnered with Fanghook. Besides, do you honestly think you're ready for the kind of responsibilities needed to be with a human when you can barely wake up in the morning?"

"Well with that kind of attitude you make it sound like I'm 'irresponsible'."

"You ARE irresponsible…" the right head sighed. "Okay, remember the time you found that rat?"

"Yeah, that was like, last week," the left replied back.

"And you said you'd take care for it and keep it safe and feed it…"

"Totally."

"And where is the rat now?" his brother asked getting to the point.

The left head on the Zippleback lowered his neck down and admitted to his crimes. "I ate it the first day."

"You ate it the first day," the right repeated. "My point is, humans are not pets. You can't just pair one with a dragon and hope for a connection like Gustav to Fanghook or Hiccup to Toothless. These things take time, patience on both parts of the human and dragon as well as trust. And frankly, the only humans willing to approach any of us already possess a strong bond with dragons of their own."

The other dragons listened as the right head spoke, he was usually the voice of reason between the wild pair and what he said made sense. Gustav, Gobber and Gothi were the only ones near them, and it wasn't like any of the others were lining up to meet them. Even if they did, would they want them to? These were the people who tried to kill them after all.

Pondering a bit more, a faint little candle flickered over Fanghook's head as he tapped Gustav's shoulder with his tail. He had been looking over the Dragon Manual to have noticed the cluster of dragons over him till Fanghook pointed it out. "Uh…hey."

Pointing over to the arena dragons then back to Gustav with his tail, he wanted him to understand his idea. It took several tries with the sparrow finally demonstrating as a small model with a dried leaf on his back with a snail on to communicate the message.

"You guys really wanna try it out?" he asked the dragons who nodded their heads.

What more did they have to lose?

Lifting himself up, he walked over to the entrance, Fanghook following close behind. "I'll see that I can do? See you guys later!" And with that, he waved goodbye to his dragon friends as he and Fanghook flew off to get help.

…

Gobber knocked at the front door of the Haddock house, receiving no answer from the chief inside who hadn't shown his face since the last gathering at the Great Hall. With no response, he simply let himself in and the feeling of dry air and the smell of over ripened fruit filled the surroundings as he let the grey light from outside fill in the house shrouded in darkness. Inside the shadows seemed alive, almost as if they were reaching out for an unsuspecting entity to pass by and be snatched away at and taken further into the dimness. Feeling as though he was pushing his way into the main room, the pieces of a shattered table and chair covered the floor, remnants of the day Stoick had lost all control. The house seemed too quiet as he continued towards the kitchen where baskets of once fresh fruit were now turning sour. He let out a heavy sigh as he looked towards Stoick's room, in his hand was a straight-edge razor. He kept staring at it, as if contemplating the most difficult question in his life.

Walking in, Gobber slowly took the razor from his chief and friend's hand. "None of that, Stoick, you need to get up."

"What's the point? I have nothing left to live for. Who cares if I shave off my beard? I've disgraced myself as a father," Stoick's voice was silent and void of life. His green eyes were dull and murky like pond water.

For the past week he had done nothing but mope around the house, sometimes wandering from one room to the next in the dark silence. The one room he dared not venture to was upstairs; he felt his presence would only taint the last zone once belonging to his precious child, Hiccup. It took her defying their culture, defending a dragon and ultimately fleeing from his reach for him to finally see and want her by his side again. He continually told himself he was a fool, a disappointment to her and a complete monster for everything he had ever done to her. He kept pushing her away, furthering the already wide gap between them; he was too blinded by pride and duty to see she was desperately trying to reach out for him, for him to say he loved her and that she needed him. Now it was too late to made amends, he forced her to leave. Every night when he closed his eyes he'd see her face, laced with terror and the hand he had used to choke, shove and slap her with felt dirty. Little sounds in the night would stir him from his insomnia-like daze and he'd race to the front door, even tripping a few times as he prayed she had returned so he could beg for her forgiveness but alas it was never her. It was as if the very house itself was taunting him as it creaked and groaned all night and he realized just how lonesome and cold it was being by oneself. Had Hiccup felt this way too all those years when he was off on wild goose chases to destroy the dragon's nest? The times he was awake, he swore he could hear her voice passing by or the faintest tinge of her giggle from times now gone. Stoick spent a lot of time crying, something he hadn't done for year, not since Valka had disappeared. What would she have said if she was still there? She'd probably tell him he was an abusive father and he wouldn't have disagreed with her. He was a horrible man. He didn't feel he deserved to be called a man anymore, he was nothing…

"You have a village to live for, Stoick. I know right now you feel like you've lost everything but you haven't. She's still out there and as long as Berk remains in the dark ages, she'll never come back!" Gobber pointed outward.

He had wondered what he would have said to Stoick once they were alone. A part of him wanted to tell him he always put his people before his child and it ruined their relationship but it wasn't really a fair thing to say. Stoick had a difficult task at hand, trying to balance a tribe, his parenthood and his time. There were times where he needed to be out there fighting the cause, being a diplomat and serving his tribe. The times he tried to get close to his daughter, he couldn't looked her in the face because she reminded him so much of Valka and it bruised his heart because he still missed her so much. Gobber could see all those things eating him away and did his best to fill in the role as Hiccup's father but he wasn't and he knew he could never be a substitute.

Placing his hand over his friend's shoulder, Gobber sat by Stoick on the mattress. "Hiccup needs her time to heal. We all do, but right now this village needs its chief. I'm not going to force you to get out of this rut and move forward, but I will tell you you're not alone. If you're ready to come out of the dark, you know where to find us."

Slowly lifting himself up, Gobber left his friend to think things over, taking the razor with him just in case Stoick wanted to do something irrational again like thinking of cutting off his beard. It was the ultimate Viking shame. He couldn't allow his friend to go to that extreme, not when he still had time to fix things. For now, they'd all have to find a way to manage without Hiccup by their side…

…

Mildew took in a deep breath of the morning air as the dull grey skies covered the world, a wide smile on his face.

"Aaahh! Isn't this great, Fungus? The birds aren't chirping, the sun isn't shining and best of all that wrecked witch is off the island for good," he smacked his staff onto the ground in victory.

Fungus bleated out as he rolled his eyes, he could really care less about any of it, just so long as he was fed and had a roof over his head he was fine.

"To think, all it took was her falling in love with another monster for her to finally get booted out. It's so 'romantic'," he chortled pretending to be supportive. "Now all we have to do is get rid of the rest of those pesky reptiles. That boy, Gustav is now a thorn in my side. Shame, he was such a good lad to start with till that 'she-wolf' put a spell on him," he walked out to his cabbage field, most rotting from the excess of rainwater that fell for the past few days. "No matter, soon, we'll be rid of the beasties!" he said as he pierced his staff into one of the rotting cabbages, crushing it onto oozing chunks.

…

Reaching the forge, Gustav hopped off of Fanghook and entered slowly.

"Gobber, you there? I wanted to ask you about something…" he waited for an answer but heard nothing as he turned to see Aarne, resting on a stool. His arms were crossed and his eyes were shut as if sleeping. It was possibly the first time Gustav saw him without an axe in his hand.

"Aarne? You okay, man?" Gustav slowly approached him and when he didn't give a response he took it as a sign he was knocked out. Maybe he was here to get his axe sharpened or to talk with Gobber too? Shrugging his shoulders he walked over to the work table and looked around the forge. He had learned many things since becoming junior apprentice and it kept his mind busy with Hiccup gone. Noticing the soft pattering of wings, he looked to the back entrance where Sharpshot was making his way back, his tongue slightly hanging out of his mouth as he came in for a landing by Gustav.

"Hey, Sharpshot. Whatcha got there?" he asked seeing the small roll of paper on his hind leg. Pulling the thread attached to it, he slowly opened the message and read it closely. A small smile formed on his face as he read the words from his mentor and friend, now benevolent ruler of a horde of dragons not too far off from them. He hummed merrily knowing she was safe. He thought for a moment before writing his own letter to her, asking for advice on his situation and sent Sharpshot back on his delivery which he seemed happy to oblige to.

"What are you reading, Gustav?" Aarne loomed over him, a dark aura in his eyes as he was still halfway in sleep mode.

Pressing the paper close to his chest to hide it, he panicked slightly. "Um, nothing special, just notes… You know from work and stuff…"

"Really?" Aarne pressed on.

"Yeah, really… I'd better go, you know, talk to… I'm just heading out now," he tried to exit but the grip of Aarne's hand stopped him before he could made it out the door.

"Please don't hit me! I'm sorry, I lied! It's a letter from Hiccup! Please don't hit me!" he crouched down expecting to get punched at or kicked. It was the kind of thing Snotlout would do to him and in the past he knew Aarne would never have but considering he had threatened him in the forest not too long ago, he had to be on guard.

Aarne stepped back as he saw Gustav hurl himself into a fetal position. He really scared him. A part of him felt terrible, he knew Gustav was probably still in a fragile state of mind after he attacked him nearly a week ago. Seeing him shiver and tremble reminded him of Hiccup and how she too quivered when he got too forceful and aggressive. Taking a breath, he calmed his nerves and lowered his voice. "I'm not gonna hurt you, I promise." A part of him wanted to know what the letter in his hands was about, but like Gobber had told him, he needed to relax and keep things together. "Now, what's this about a letter?"

Once he stopped shaking, Gustav rose back up while still keeping the letter close to his center. "She mailed us."

Aarne's heart pattered at the idea she was still on speaking terms with them and he wondered what it said. He cleared his throat before continuing. "Does it say anything good?"

Gustav looked to Aarne, he could tell he was tired and a bit on edge but he was somehow more relaxed than normal. He knew the letter wasn't just for him and held it out for him to take. "Here, you can read it first…"

Looking to the brownish sheet, he slowly reached out for it and read the neatly written words on it. A small smile laced his face as he finished and he handed it back to Gustav. He felt somehow satisfied with what was said in the letter and it lifted the heavy weight in his heart. "You should let Stoick know. I'm sure he'd like to read that too."

Nodding his head understandingly, Gustav thanked him and walked out to the streets, a small ray of light piercing through the grey onto the isle of Berk.

…

Taking a breath before knocking on the front door to the chief's house, Gustav waited till he hear him called out that is was open. Slowly opening the door, he could see the chief picking up the pieces of the shattered table and chair on the ground. The air didn't smell so much of decay anymore. Stoick's talk with Gobber a few hours ago had him thinking and he felt before he got to fixing the town, he'd first clean the mess he created inside himself and the house.

"Hi, Chief, sir. Um, how's it going?"

Glancing over to the side, he could see young Gustav Larson. He knew he and Hiccup had this certain connection, it allowed the two to get close and eventually it gave him a reason to smile and bond with dragons. While nearly everyone in town walked around with this personal storm cloud of shame, the three riders left on the island did the best they could to go about their days with a smile.

"Just trying to pick up the pieces…getting myself back together," Stoick placed the bundle of wood in his hand into the fireplace, allowing the flames to eat away the bad memories.

Seeing the chief, Stoick the Vast, like this gave Gustav this certain new outlook on him. Before everything, he always pictured him to be unstoppable, that nothing could razzle this great man up. There was even a time where he wanted to grow up to be just like him, but he felt he could have never reached that goal because he was scrawny like a weed. Now, Stoick seemed deflated, a bit wore out and saddened by this entire experience. It made him more approachable, less of a legend and more of a man.

Placing the letter into his vest, Gustav walked forward and began piling up small fragments of the table and chair onto his palms. "I can help."

Pausing to look at the young boy, Stoick at first wanted to tell him he had to do this himself and that it was his failure. But what Gobber had told him before stuck to him, that he wasn't alone in this new fight. He had his people, friends; they were his family in a way. Both silently gathered the broken pieces of wood and tossed them into the flames, their charring crackles begin the only noise between them.

Picking up a block of what was once a table leg, Gustav could see a brownish mark over the lighter shade of floorboards. It was dried blood, most likely Hiccup's. Graving his fingertips over the matte textured area, he wondered what kind of fears and insecurities raced through her mind that tipped the scales for her to run away and finally leave. She must have felt scared, alone, powerless… He could understand those feelings, but they must have hurt far more coming from the one person she loved and cared for.

"You know, I've always been picked on," Gustav started as he continued to clear the floor. "Not by everyone, just certain people. I felt like, if I kept that to myself, it'd all go away. The pain and sadness. There were even times where I felt alone and that no one understood how I felt."

Stoick stopped what he was doing and listened to him closely.

"But someone did, Hiccup. She understood so well because she had gone through the exact same things, but ten times worse. She was the only one who took the time to help me out when bad things happened. It was nice to have someone around who would listen and give me advice about how to move forward, but I sometimes wondered where that person was for her when she needed it too."

A heavy weight filled Stoick's heart. It wasn't fair for either of them, her and Gustav.

"When she left, I didn't know what I would do without her, she was always like a big sister to me. I probably would have cried for hours if not for Fanghook being by my side…"

A brow rose as Stoick turned to face him.

"She showed me what a person could do once you're willing to understand the unknown. You can touch the clouds. Ride the winds. Taste freedom. I see the dragons at the arena, and I see a bit of myself in them. I think all we need to do now, is try to understand each other." At his last words, he stood up and presented his chief with the letter, rolled tightly in his small hand.

Stoick nearly dropped all the pieces of wood in his arm from seeing it. Placing the broken pieces of the chair into the fireplace, Stoick lifted himself up and slowly reached out for the paper before he brought it to his vision. Carefully be read the words within, making sure to listen to the voiceless message:

When I was still a frightened little girl, I lived on an island called Berk. It's twelve days north of Hopeless and a few degrees south of freezing to death; it's located solidly on the Meridian of Misery. My village. In a word: Sturdy. It's been there for seven generations but every single building is new. It has fishing and hunting and a charming view of the sunsets. The only problems were the pests. You see while most places had mice or mosquitos, we had dragons. Most people would leave, but not Vikings, they have stubbornness issues. But along with their stubbornness, they're resilient, resourceful and never give up even when faced with adversities. I've seen men and women defend their homes from pirates, dragons and the occasional sheep rebellion, but most of all, they defend each other.

Before the war ended, I wasn't much like them and it seemed the only Viking quality I managed to pick up was my 'charming demeanor'. Now with the war over, dragon have become a part of my everyday life and I see now the error of our ways. In the end, we were all victims of circumstance with little knowledge on one another. I hope to change that for everyone, not just Berk, but the world someday. I'll be the first to admit, I'm still not a Viking in size, but I know I have the heart of one. It's a bit small and prone to heartbreaks, but it keeps on going till the end.

To those on Berk, I have faith you to will come to consider dragons your friends, your family and your allies. They're tough, persistent and have a pretty big appetite for fish as well as being loyal and devoted till the end. We're not so different when you think about it. We all want a little peace in the world, wouldn't you?

Your friend and ally, Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III, Dragon Island Queen

A small droplet of happiness fell from Stoick's eye and down to his red beard. He wasn't too sure where to start. Looking over to Gustav, he straightened his posture and wiped the tear from his eye. "Where do we begin, Dragon Rider?"

…

"Hey, get up," Aarne kicked Snotlout as he napped on the ground, the twins off to the side seated in a bored state, something they only did when they weren't in the mood for destruction and Fishlegs' nose was in a book on the other side of them.

"A good morning would have been nice," Snotlout grumbled as he rose from the grass. "What's the big deal?"

"We just got a letter, turns out Hiccup's a queen of dragons now."

"So? What does that have to do with us?" asked Snotlout as he stretched.

"You don't think she'll declare war on us now?" Fishlegs' asked as he closed his hardcover.

"That'd be something, most interesting thing to happen all week," Tuffnut lazily remarked as he shoved his sister to which she punched him hardly on the face.

"I seriously doubt that but I do know Gustav mailed her back," Aarne continued.

"Wait, SHE mailed us? How?" Ruffnut asked intrigued by the news.

"I think I saw Gustav use that Terror, Sharpshot, you know the one that's around Gustav and Gobber all the time."

"Interesting. I'm curious as to how she managed to get him to follow and complete something like that?" Fishlegs added.

The conversation would have lasted longer if not for Gobber flying in on Bones, landing right by them by the Great Hall. "Good, you're all together, that makes this easier than I thought. I need you recruits at the arena as soon as possible, there are gonna be some big changes around here."

"Um, isn't dragon training over, and stuff?" Tuffnut asked as he and his sister got to their feet.

"Consider this a new semester with a new teacher, he'll be waiting for you all over there," without saying anything else, he left the teens to think over what he had just said.

"Uh, new semester?" Ruffnut started.

"What do you think, Aarne, should we go?" Snotlout asked as he walked to his side.

"No turning back, right?" he smirked as he started towards the sea stack.

…

By the time they got there, Gustav was facing the large gate that held the mature Nightmare. The afternoon sun was beating down on the arena and it felt as if it and the main island were on two completely different worlds.

"If you're planning on getting eaten, I'd definitely go with the Gronckle," Fishlegs commented first as the former recruits lined up, staring at the younger boy who gave them all a surprised look on his face.

"You were wise to seek help from the world's deadliest weapon," Tuffnut proclaimed as he shoved past his sister towards Gustav, motioning his fingers over his face in a mysterious and semi-threatening way to which he respond by mumbling. "It's me," he confirmed just in case he hadn't heard.

Snotlout came forward and heaved Tuffnut to the side as he approached the younger Viking, a bit excited to actually do something as opposed to just moping around doing nothing. "I love this plan!" he fisted his hands outward, causing Gustav to back up slightly.

"I didn't…" was all Gustav could utter before Ruffnut pushed Snotlout to the side, causing one of his fist to collide with his face and sending him off to the corner.

"You're crazy!" she leaned down to his level before whispering in his ear. "I like that…"

If Gustav thought this was a good plan before, now he just felt really, really awkward. He felt a bit better once Aarne pulled Ruffnut away and gave him some room to breathe.

"So, what is the plan?" he smiled slightly.

Gustav looked over to everyone and grinned. He knew this was going to be a team effort and was happy they were at least eager for this.

We're on our way forward, Hiccup, Gustav thought as the clouds over Berk began to fade.