The Chief's house was packed. Over the years and the many times it had been rebuilt, it hadn't decreased in size despite Stoick now living alone in it. It was so much like the many iterations of it that Hiccup had grown up in; he almost felt fourteen again; shoved into a tiny corner because the space already felt full to the brim with only Stoick and Gobber in it.

Only now there were a lot more people present and the house was crammed.

"We should've just gone to the Meade Hall," Snotlout grumbled.

"Agreed," Hiccup said, shifting on his stool and trying to find a comfortable position. But he couldn't even stretch out his legs more than a couple inches without bumping into someone else or the firepit.

"Oh, come on," Astrid said, "it's not that bad."

"You don't get to say how bad it is." Snotlout pointed his finger at her swollen middle. "You're with child, so obviously you get to have more space for your butt. The rest of us have to suffer."

Astrid looked ready to argue, but Hiccup had to agree with his cousin. "He's right. You got the only other comfortable chair, Milady, and you can actually move your elbows without hitting anyone's kidneys."

The backdoor of the Chief's house opened again and the Twins shuffled in. Tuffnut took one look at the room and groaned.

"This is worse than at Astrid's," he said and swung up onto the staircase. His sister followed him suit.

"Oi, Chief, what happened to the Meade Hall?" Ruffnut asked. Half of the room looked expectantly at him.

Stoick sighed and rubbed his face. "We couldn't meet there because it's too public. People notice immediately when there is a meeting and we need secrecy."

"And ten people piling in through your backdoor are more inconspicuous?"

"Five," Gobber corrected her. "Some of us were already here." He pointed to the dirty bowls sitting on a sideboard. "The best secret meetings are held right where everyone can see and know. If people think we're only here having a nice family dinner they aren't gonna question lights burning late into the night."

"Alright, but you still haven't told us why we need to have a secret meeting," Fishlegs said.

"Because there are traitors on Berk," Stoick said.

"Isn't that something you should talk to your Council about?"

"Won't get you far when some of the Council are probably in on it, Fish," Snotlout threw in. "Shit, I think my own father might have something to do with it." He took a long swig of his mead.

Eret – who was standing right behind Snotlout – looked like he wanted to do something about the glumness radiating from him. Hiccup knew his friend's mannerisms well enough to know he only fisted his hands at his sides because he didn't know if they were in the right company for him to take Snotlout's hand.

Hiccup had the feeling that something had happened between the two young men today, but he hadn't found a quiet moment to ask his friend about it yet. Though, going by the grin Eret had sported all afternoon until Astrid and Heather had come bearing news, Hiccup could imagine what was going on.

"But why us?" Tuffnut inquired. "I mean, I'm honoured to be part of some secret meeting, but… I'm not important."

"You're right," Stoick said. "Most wouldn't think you're important what with your history of pranking, Tuffnut. But you're one of the few people I know without doubt isn't conspiring with the enemy. And that is the most important thing right now."

"Not gonna argue with your logic, Chief, though I have absolutely no clue how you got there."

Ruffnut shoved her brother. "Just shut up and listen, doofus."

And then Stoick started recounting what had transpired that afternoon.

In the hours after Astrid had told him about Viggo's revelation, Hiccup had wreaked his head trying to come up with something to make the best of the situation. Having spies among the villagers wasn't ideal, but it was also something to be expected.

Drago had been planning his siege on the Archipelago for decades. Of course he needed to have informants on his main targets. Hiccup had met some of Drago's former spies; all of them had ended up dead shortly after Drago's new territory had been conquered. Trader Johann was the only exception to Drago's rule to kill his spies later on; and probably only because that bastard was his brother.

"Traitors are only useful for so long," Drago had told Hiccup once. "Once I've gotten what I wanted they serve no purpose for me anymore. And who is to say they won't betray me next? Betrayal is part of their very nature, boy. Make use of it and then get rid of them before they turn on you for the highest bidder."

Hiccup had no doubt Mildew and his son would meet a similar fate once this was through. If not sooner.

There were many things Hiccup wished he could forget about that Drago had 'taught' him, so much that had haunted his dreams. The man under whose roof he had lived for years was ruthless and cold-blooded in so many ways, Hiccup had spent most of his time in Greuelorm blending out the cruelties just so he wouldn't cower whenever Drago so much as looked his way.

But there were some lessons Drago had taught him that Hiccup couldn't help but be grateful for. And this was one of them.

"Soooo," Gobber sighed, "we need to think about what to do about Mouldhair and his goons. I donnae much like having the lot of 'em weaslin' about the island. Or havin' them runnin' back ta Drago the moment we lose sight of them."

"Can't we just throw them into jail, too?" Snotlout asked. "I mean, we know they're working for Bludvist now. Seems like a simple case to me."

"It's not that simple," Astrid said. "We don't know how many of Mouldhair's friends are involved. We don't know what they've told Drago about Berk. We don't know how far they'd be willing to go for this. The only thing we do know is that Mildew and then Mouldhair have been in regular contact with Drago and his forces. That's it."

"But-"

Stoick was quick to cut Snotlout off with a wave of his hand. "Astrid is right. And if we start randomly throwing people into jail just because they're friends with Mould we could raise the whole village against us and that we can't afford. Berk needs to be a united front right now and there's already so much discontent because of the whole dragon thing." He stroked his beard and looked at Hiccup. "I never thought I'd say this, but the dragons have helped Berk a lot. The raids have gotten worse, but there are less casualties than there have ever been. Still, many have lost loved ones to the dragons and those wounds will take a long time to heal. Some may never be comfortable with them 'round."

Hiccup nodded. "That's understandable. But it also means we can't push them too far, right? If we want to get rid of the traitors, it can't look like we're being paranoid and just throw everyone who's a tiny bit suspicious into jail. We need the village to see for themselves who is working for the enemy."

"And how are we gonna do that?" Snotlout asked. "They've been spying for Bludvist for years without anyone noticing."

That was exactly what Hiccup had been trying to work out. Mouldhair and his father were the main offenders. But with Mildew being one of Berk's elders that made it incredibly difficult to discredit him. Berk's people may not like him very much, but they still respected his opinions because of his age. Mildew had seen wars start and pass, he had been there when the winter got so bad it didn't stop for a whole year and lived to tell the tale of how they'd done it. Even Hiccup had to admit that sometimes there was wisdom to be found behind his vile remarks. And if they were to unveil his son as the traitor he was, there was no doubt Mildew would find a way to defend Mouldhair. After all, Mildew had somehow gotten away with the mysterious deaths of his three wives. They would need to condemn both men simultaneously.

"I hate to say this," Heather said. It was the first words she had spoken all evening. After escorting Viggo back to his jail cell, she had been quiet. Lost in her own head. "But what if we use Viggo to bring them down? They don't know why he's here or why he's in jail, right?"

"We can use that to our advantage," Ruff murmured. "Like, play a gigantic prank on those idiots. Hey, I like your thinking, girl!" A big grin that promised mayhem to come spread over her face. Hiccup had seen it many times as a kid right before something exploded or someone ended up covered entirely in yak dung. The latter Hiccup had experienced himself on more times than he could recall.

Heather smiled back at Ruffnut tentatively.

"Remind me," Gobber whispered to him, "why are the Thorston devils here again?"

"Because they are on our side," Hiccup replied. "And we can't be picky wiht our allies right now."

Tuffnut chose that moment to jump up excitedly and wave his arms about. "Oh, oh! I know! We use this Viggo guy as bait. Lure Mildew's ill-begotten son and his gang of walnuts into our trap." He clapped his hands together like one snapping closed and cackled. "Which then makes them the bait for Bloodyfist. And once we got Bloodyfist ensnared, he's the bait for the dragon queen you were talking about." He rubbed his palms together, fire reflecting in his eyes, giving him a mad gleam.

It made the hair's on Hiccup's neck stand up. All Tuffnut would need right now was a mace and some thunder rolling in the near distance and the illusion would be perfect. A true heir of Loki.

But that chaotic energy was also precisely why Hiccup had insisted the Twins come despite his father's and godfather's arguments against it.

Ruffnut and Tuffnut Thorston were a bottomless well of schemes and tricks and plans. And thus perfect to draw inspiration from. One enemy as bait for the next. Using the smallest pieces to use as a catalyst for the bigger ones. Like the mechanics inside a mill. Hiccup didn't even notice zoning out for a minute or two. Maybe even longer as the pieces fell into place in his mind.

His wife's voice and her hand squeezing his brought him back into the crammed space of his father's house.

"Babe? Are you alright?"

Hiccup blinked. "I think I know how we can do it."

"And not like that half-arsed plan you came up with?" Eret asked with a cocked brow; caught between teasing and actual apprehension.

"No," Hiccup said. "A real plan this time. That is, if we can actually trust Viggo will do what I expect he will."

Stoick let out a deep sigh. "Son, I really don't think we should trust that man any more than we already have."

"I know, I know. And we don't have to. He doesn't need to know anything other what we need him to pass on to Mouldhair. He's our bait, just as Heather and Tuff said."

After Hiccup had explained his plan to the group gathered in his father's house, there was a shift in the atmosphere. The agitated buzzing of anticipation was almost tangible. If it weren't the dead of night, they'd all be spurring into action right now.

Heather had offered to talk to Viggo again. Hiccup had anticipated to go himself, but she insisted.

"He knows me best. I can pretend to want to mend things and slip the information in. He won't notice I'm playing him. But with you, Viggo would be instantly suspicious. I'll do it."

"And I'll go tell Mouldhair and his goons about their new job first thing tomorrow," Snotlout said.

The traitors would be put on jail guard duty for a while, giving them enough time to connect with Viggo and make sure they learned everything they needed to. And once they did, Hiccup had no doubt they would flee Berk immediately and run straight back to Drago's army. Where Hiccup would follow them to make sure everything was really set into motion. Toothless was the stealthiest dragon they had and the fastest, too.

And once that was done and Drago turned his army toward Dragon Island and led them to Helheim's Gate, what little airial force Berk had would make sure the Dragon Queen could pick them out one by one. They just had to get her out of that damn mountain.

And then, all they could do was hope and pray. That the Queen would take out the army. That Drago wouldn't by some miracle turn the tides in his favour. That no one from Berk would have to let their life on a battlefield.

Quickly, conversation turned towards speculations about how exactly the Dragon Queen could possibly attack. Swallow whole ships at once. Stomp them to death under her probably gigantic feet. Burn them all to smithereens in one single fiery breath.

Hiccup didn't partake in discussing the demise of thousands of men. No one who had lived in Greuelorm did.

"You know," Eret finally said very calmly, though his hands were tight fists in his lap. "Most of the men are innocent. They've got wives and children and friends. Families. Waiting for them at home until the day Drago finally releases them from their duty."

"How would you know that? That they are innocent?" Fishlegs asked.

"Because I was one of them not all that long ago," Eret said tightly. Hiccup knew what memories were flitting through his best friend's mind right now.

A burning village. His family dead. His culture and tribe gone. All fitting boys forced into Drago's military ranks. Eret was one of very few who had gone up from froot soldier to captain of his own crew. By sheer force of will and always with the hopes of one day turning his ship and getting away from that prelude to Helheim.

The room got silent at Eret's confession. The Chief was rubbing his temples in a way that meant he wasn't happy with his revelation whatsoever. Hiccup had seen it enough times throughout his childhood to know.

"You… worked for our worst enemy?" Ruff asked flabbergasted. "What?!"

"We all did," Hiccup said, grimacing. "Drago makes it his business to know the weaknesses of everyone within his reach and use that to his advantage and get what he wants. We've done things we're not proud of while under his control."

"Lots of things," Eret whispered with a shudder.

"Makes you get well acquainted with very strong alcohol very fast."

"And cheers to that, mate."

Astrid wove her fingers through his and Hiccup found his wife's beautiful face guilt-ridden. She'd been his weakness for the last months there. She and Toothless and his mother. For their safety, Hiccup would've done much anything Drago asked of him.

He leaned over to kiss her forehead.

"Am I really the only one that bastard didn't order around at his every whim?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Eret tapped the tattoo on his chin, eyes a little lighter again. "But one of the very first things you did was turn his quarters into a rosy nightmare and steal his favourite hunting trophies."

"I stole nothing," Astrid argued. "I just… misplaced them where he'd never bother to look."

"Point is, he didn't trust you farther than he could throw you with his left arm," Heather said.

"Which is to say, not at all," Hiccup added. He laughed with the others about it to keep the spirits high Just for the moment, he could bring himself to laugh about it.

Within, though, he still wanted to bundle up his wife and their unborn child and just make a run for it all. Not that he would ever do that and leave Berk to fend for themselves, having just reconnected with his father and all.

But Drago had threatened Astrid's life often enough precisely because he didn't trust her. In all the months there, he hadn't really found his grip on her, couldn't control her like he did everyone else. And even worse, Astrid had managed to get Hiccup out of his tight clutch, too. Bit by bit, she had helped him regain his footing. In a way, she had saved him and Hiccup loved her all the more for it.

The price for that had been Drago's cronies luring in alleys for her while she was passing by, targeting her, trying to attack her to get rid of Drago's homemade problem. It had been the cause of many sleepless nights for Hiccup.

That Astrid had managed to still leave Greuelorm and with a big crate full of his gold, too, probably irked Drago to no end.

"Wait," Tuff aksed, "what's up with his arm?"

"It's gone," Astrid said. "If I recall correctly, a dragon bit it off."

That sparked another round of wild speculations and raucous laughter at Drago's expense. Hiccup didn't bother telling them that he'd been just a kid when a dragon took his arm. No matter what he thought of the man Drago had turned out to be, no child deserved to suffer that kind of pain. Thankfully, the Chief quickly had enough of all the people overflowing his house and interrupted the conversation, clearing his throat loudly and pointedly looking from the Twins to the door.

Heather got the clue immediately and bid them all a goodnight, which didn't surprise Hiccup at all. She'd been quiet all night. Actually, she'd been quieter ever since Viggo had shown up on Berk. There was a lot she'd been struggling with and that hadn't made it any easier.

Eret followed her with a hidden wink for Snotlout. And then the Twins and Fish also seemed to notice that it was probably time to head home. It had gotten late.

Gobber sighed loudly and stretched out his limbs once they were gone. "Oh, I started ta think they'll ne'er leave."

Stoick grumbled his agreement.

"We should go, too," Hiccup said, but his father waved him off.

"I was just tired of the Twins' endless blabbering. The house is too small to endure them for long."

"Also, Astrid's fallen asleep," Snotlout said and stood, popping his back. "Mead anyone?"

Hiccup looked down at his wife, who had indeed fallen asleep with her head resting against his shoulder. He loathed having to wake her when she was already gobbling up every last second of sleep she could get between the raids, teaching Berk to get along with the dragons and maintaining a tight routine of patrols around the isle.

Gently shaking her, Hiccup said her name. But Astrid only stirred for a moment, mumbled something intelligible and then buried against his tunic with a soft snore.

Hiccup sighed. When she got like this, only something potentially life-threatening could wake her.

"Take her upstairs," Stoick said. "You should never wake a sleeping dragon. Same goes for sleeping women."

"Especially the pregnant kind," Gobber added.

Upstairs.

To where Hiccup's room used to be in his childhood. The loft his father had kept on adding to his house even though he hadn't needed it in six years. Even the stairs looked like they did back then.

"Stay the night," his father continued. "There's a bed and furs upstairs. Not much, but it'll do for a night."

Hiccup gathered his slumbering wife up in his arms. "Thanks, dad."

He didn't question why his father had chosen to furnish the loft. It wasn't like there was anyone to really use it. But maybe it was just habit of a father who had been unable to let go even after years.

"I'll be right back," Hiccup said and carried Astrid upstairs. Not an easy task considering she wasn't the smallest woman, he not the strongest man, and her advancing pregnancy only added to his struggle. At least the steps under his feet felt oddly familiar and he needn't watch his step as closely as he anticipated. Still, it was easier carrying her up than hauling her halfway across the village to their home.

The loft really wasn't much more than a bare room that would be wonderful for storage purposes. Hiccup remembered the countless times he stood up her in a different variation of the same house and contemplated arranging his little space differently to before or keeping it the same. The bare room had always felt haunting in a way only children could experience. Newly made yet identical to before. It had unnerved him as a boy.

Now, though, after years of standing here once again it felt comforting.

His father had waited for him to come back home even after all these years. Subconsciously never giving up hope.

The bed even stood exactly where Hiccup had always ended up pushing it; right underneath the window so he could look out at the sea whenever he couldn't sleep.

Hiccup layed Astrid down and removed her boots and studded skirt. She only stirred again to burrow under the furs when he pulled them over her. He brushed his lips over her forehead before leaving her to rest. She needed it.

Snotlout and Gobber were still there when he came back down, but his father didn't seem to mind. And from the way the three men behaved so comfortably, it occurred to him that there must've been lots of late nights like this the past few years.

The Chief, his Heir, and his Right-Hand Man.

The part of him that was still left of the fourteen year old boy who had longed for his father's approval and done everything to claim his birthright was jealous at the sight. But Hiccup had given that up when he'd gotten on Toothless and left Berk. He had made a decision then and that pang of jealousy he felt was unjustified to say the least.

And really, Hiccup didn't want to be Berk's Heir again. He wasn't sure that had ever been his desire deep down. Be he did still long for a normal relationship with his father. Especially after the disastrous fall out with his mother.

"How is she faring?" Stoick asked and passed him a full tankard of mead.

Hiccup sighed. "Good. I think She's just easily exhausted these days."

"Aye. With the lifestyle you two've adopted it's no wonder."

Gobber huffed and Snotlout snorted.

"Chief, you really think riding dragons is the sole reason for that?" Snot asked. "That woman can't sit still for longer periods of time even without the dragons. It's always got to be something going on with Astrid.

"Weapon training, sparring, training the younglings, chasing after the twins, and all that before noon," Gobber added.

"Alright, alright," Stoick conceded. "I was just wondering if all that work with the beasts is good in her condition that is all."

Hiccup took a sip of his drink. "As long as Gothi's not complaining about it, I won't tell her to stop doing whatever she pleases. That would only end up with me sleeping on the floor until the baby's able to talk."

Not that he hadn't already wondered the exact same thing. This really wasn't a good time for them to have a child. But obviously the gods had deemed it so.

"But I really don't want her around the battlefield once things go down with Drago and the Dragon Queen."

"Aye, son, but that's just part of being a husband and father. You won't always be there to protect them and that's the hardest thing to accept."

Conversation flowed easier than Hiccup would have imagined. In his youth, there had been so much tension between him and his father, that a normal conversation was rarer than a raid Hiccup did not get yelled at. Both highly unlikely.

So this - the ease and peacefulness between them - was something that needed time getting used to. But it was something Hiccup definitely looked forward to.

"You know, cuz," Snotlout said, halfway through his tankard. "I think you'd make a way better next Chief than me. Honestly."

Hiccup almost spit out the last sip he'd taken, choking on it instead. He didn't dare look his father's way, so he glared at his clearly delusional and intoxicated cousin.

"I mean, come on," Snot continued. "You just came up with... everything that will probably save our asses. In the past couple weeks, you made Berk a safer place than it has ever been, gave us a way to defend ourselves and keep our food supplies stocked. I don't think I've ever seen the store houses so full. So if you wanna, you can have your title back. Seriously."

"I-I really don't think-" Hiccup tried to argue, but Snotlout just shushed him with an invading finger.

"What do you think, Chief?"

Hiccup forced himself to look at his father, expecting to see him with his signature frown and a displeased scowl. Maybe shaking with silent laughter because the idea was so ridiculous.

Instead, Stoick stroked his beard in.. contemplation, Hiccup realized.

"This isn't anything we should decide right now," he said, "but… I would be lying if I said I'd not thought about it, too."

This had to be a joke. They couldn't seriously be considering reinstating Hiccup as Heir. As future Chief of Berk. He hadn't even been on Berk for the better part of the decade, for Odin's sake.

"But…" Hiccup wanted to talk them out of it, make them see clearly again. This was ridiculous. Just because he'd helped come up with a plan or two didn't mean he was fit to be Chief, for Odin's sake.

Then he caught Snotlout's pleading look.

Snotlout didn't want to be Chief. He'd told Hiccup that the very day he'd called him out on his yakshit. For Snotlout, being Chief would not only mean organizing a village full of boarheaded Vikings, but also doing so with a manipulative father breathing down his neck and everyone waiting for him to find a wife and siring the next Heir himself. It would mean Snotlout would never be able to just be himself and be with someone he well and truly loved. He'd told Hiccup the only reason he had ever seriously contemplated going through with that bat-shit crazy idea of his father to marry Astrid was because of the child she was already carrying. Like a cuckoo placing its egg in another's nest.

Snotlout hated the position he had been forced into because of Hiccup's disappearance. Keeping him pinned there for Hiccup's own comfort wouldn't be fair.

So Hiccup swallowed down his arguments and let his father think through the idea.

"Getting you reinstated wouldn't be so difficult," Stoick mused on and appraised his son. "It's your right by birth, after all, and I've never disowned you. Snotlout got your title because we thought you were dead, but that doesn't apply, either. By law, you are my successor and could chose to claim your rightful place without any official declaration from me."

"I think the village would take it better if ye were pronounced Heir again officially, though," Gobber added. "Those bunch of yaks need to be told these things or they just end up confusing themselves."

"Also," Stoick went on, "You've spent the past years as the Heir to a great many more people than Berk. You know how it works, you know the politics of it, the decisions that need to be made that no one wants to make."

Hiccup shook his head. "Dad, governing on the mainland works… differently to here around the Archipelago. That's two different cultures, for Thors sake! Yes, Drago did have me do all sorts of work for him to keep the city running while he was mostly planning his war, but-"

"But what, son? You just said it yourself. You kept the city running. And you're keeping this island fed and safe right now. Being a leader isn't about how you wage war. It's about caring for your people, protecting them, serving them. Every day you are out there teaching your recruits how to train dragons, how to ride them, and yes, also fly into battle. You are their leader. They listen to you and trust your decisions will keep them alive. You've protected countless lives already by keeping the raids manageable. Thanks to you, the village is fed and rested and is looking better than it was for a good while. Not everyone might like your methods, but if it's what keeps Berk going, they will learn to accept them. It's just one of the many trials any new Chief has to face."

"And the Gods know yer father didn't have it easy his first couple years, either," Gobber said and peered into his empty tankard. He held it high and flipped it upside down, catching the last drops of mead on his tongue. "No one liked Big Boobied Bertha taking over after her mother on Bog. Claimed she was too soft, too charmed by men. Oswald the Agreeable was the first one to keep peace for longer than five seconds and the Berserker hated him for it because they didn't know what to do with themselves if they weren't raiding and pillaging other tribes. Until he made dragon hunting a sport and they were too busy to complain anymore." He cringed at his own words, but Hiccup waved him off.

"Point is," Snotlout slurred and downed another tankard. The fifth he'd had that evening. "You'd make an awesome Chief. Way better than I could ever dream to be. And since being Chief is so very much not what I dream of at night," he made a sweeping gesture, "be my guest. I've already had enough of this job as is."

Stoick took the tankard away from Snotlout with a deep sigh. "But this isn't a decision to make now. It can wait until after we've taken care of everything else. There are more pressing matters at hand."

"Ah, and that's where I disagree with you, Chief," Gobber said standing up.

He grabbed Snotlout by the scruff of his neck with his hook and hauled him towards the door. And if Gobber hadn't held him upright, the stocky young man would've probably face planted into the floor after just a step.

Hiccup hadn't realized until now just how intoxicated his cousin had gotten in such a short period of time. Had it really only been five tankards?

"There's a war coming. And in my experience that can quickly involve shifts in power. We might have survived this far, old friend, but that doesn't mean we're immortal. And if you die on that battlefield, Berk will need its Heir to step up. You should make a decision. And make it soon."

A/N:

Did I say anything about better times? Updating more regularly? HA! I should really stop saying things like that on the internet and then maybe I'll have a chance of it becoming true. My productivity is still not operating correctly, I lowkey regret choosing nursing school for next month thanks to COVID-19 because my father is one of the people at a higher risk of not being able to survive should he get infected so that's great considering our Minister of Health just took away the safeties of nursing staff, yay! And some morons decided to steal gloves, disinfectants and other important stuff healthcare personnel need to provide a safe environment for patients and themselves. Which is awesome.

Please, for the love of god, wash your hands, people. Cut off those long ass nails (that's like a spa-resort for germs and anything nasty under there), do not buy all the disinfectant if you don't need them because you're immunocompromised or working in healthcare and don't know how to use it properly. Lotion the shit out of your hands with some pharmacy level hand lotion. And please don't cough at people. This has been a PSA from someone who knows what they're talking about. Please. And do not panic just yet, the media is making this seen worse than it actually is if you look at the ration between deceased and recovered COVID-19 patients. A regular influenza is still more deadly and severe even to those with a great immune system.

Now that that's out of the way (I just really needed to get this off my chest because there's so much stupid I'm seeing on the internet and irl rn, it's unbelievable), thank you all for the continuous support and kind words and just... Thank you from the bottom of my heart! Everyone who reads this go and get yourself a cookie. Or two. Alright, just take the whole pack.