I own nothin

She almost went back.

There were several times, usually when she was thinking of her husband and son, that made her rethink her decision. But then she would see the hatchlings wrestling under the watchful eye of their parents, or she would see a shy young dragon offer up some fish to a potential mate, or she would wake up wrapped in the wings of an adoring Stormcutter, and she knew she could never bring herself to go back.

Her first few days there had been a little frightening. The Stormcutter that taken her from her home, whom she later named Cloudjumper, had dropped her into the center of it all, surrounded by dragons of all shapes and sizes and quite a few she had never seen before. Many were curious about her, but none of them hostile.

But the first time she mustered up the courage to ride him, it changed everything.

She entertained the thought of leaving for years after that, but she knew deep down she never could.

Even after she discovered she was pregnant.

It caused her a lot of stress, even a premature gray streak in her hair, thinking about her firstborn. Hiccup had been early, small, and weak and even with the entire village behind her and supporting her, she still feared he would not live long.

If something went wrong this time. . .

But Cloudjumper was always gentle with her as she grew rounder and had trouble getting around, and he chased off any who weren't. The curved claws at the end of his wings held her hands and helped her climb the larger stones around the nest, and he always brought her back a hot meal. She never went hungry. Even during the long winters that hit even the toughest of viking villages, she always had a full belly.

Valka worried about her new baby. She felt guilty about keeping it from its father. Guilty that Stoick would never know about his second son or the new daughter she had. Not even to mention that she was alive. But then she thought about raising it to fight dragons, the kind creatures that had shown her a whole new world, and she knew it wasn't possible.

Her new son or daughter would be much safer in a den of dragons than a village of vikings.

This feeling only amplified when she was introduced to the king of the nest.

A dragon larger than life, snowy, white, with tusks the size of the Great Hall. Kind, intelligent eyes. The beast had seen centuries before her and was likely to live long after. None of the dragons under his command showed her any malice. He eyed her with amusement when she spotted him and puffed out an air of frost to greet her. She was amazed.

She fell in love with her new life with dragons. Valka wanted to share it with her little one.

Her fear for her new baby battled with the new excitement. Thinking of everything the two could learn together. All they could do together. All the joy that could come from it.

That didn't make the labor any easier.

Cloudjumper stayed with her through it all, and she had the right sense to get everything ready for her the weeks leading up to the estimated birth. She had bowls filled with water, furs and blankets and things making her bed as soft as possible. She managed to acquire fabrics and needle and thread to make clothing for the new arrival. Crafting these things certainly gave her something to do during the later months when she found it difficult to stand on her own. Her second baby arrived right on time.

Dragons didn't seem to have quite the same troubles giving birth that humans did and many of them were quite concerned at her painful screams echoing around the caves. Cloudjumper did his part of keeping out unwanted guests during the ordeal.

Still, it was nearly impossible on her own.

Hours upon hours.

Until it was over.

And then it all seemed worth it.

Her new baby girl. Strong lungs, waving fists. Larger than Hiccup had been. Healthy. A fighter.

She could see the beginnings of wild red hair sprout from the girl's head. Valka herself had been rather small when she was born, but it looked like her daughter had taken after her father this time.

And Valka couldn't be happier.

Valhallarama grew fast and tough. Valka felt comfortable leaving her newborn daughter under the watchful eye of Cloudjumper any time she left the room, but it was still a few weeks before she felt comfortable introducing her girl to the rest of the nest.

Her daughter was happy, smiling, arms poking out from her blanket of furs to pat the noses of any that came close enough to her. Her girl giggled at the waves of heat that erupted from the nostrils sniffing her. Valka knew her girl was safe around any of them. Rama left even the mightiest of Monstrous Nightmares putty under her innocent laughter.

And her baby girl wasn't scared of any of them.

As weeks turned to months and months turned to her first year, Valka noticed something different about her girl.

She did her best to talk to her daughter every chance she got. Using a wide range of vocabulary since she was the only other human her daughter could interact with and learn from, but while she learned enough from her to begin simple words, "mama", "'lau'umper" for 'Cloudjumper', "dragon" and a few other ones, Valka noticed she often greeted her mother's face with an affectionate growl or purr.

Almost identical now to the way Cloudjumper greeted her in the mornings.

Valka tried not to let this bother her, and she couldn't help a smile as her girl experimented with the other hatchlings in the nest.

Cloudjumper took on a role like a father to her. Valka could ask him to watch her while she left to fetch water or check up on the other side of the nest, and he would lounge nearby and roar out at her if she ever got into trouble.

Which she often did.

Rama spent every second she could climbing out on large rocks hanging on the edge of long drops and the on legs of dragons much larger than herself.

It was even worse when the little girl made herself a friend.

It had taken Valka longer than she felt comfortable admitting to earn the trust of the baby she found trapped in one of the many nets out in the forest. She looked around for many hours for the next few days before she concluded that the hatchling didn't have parents, and she and Cloudjumper brought him back to their nest until he was well enough to live on his own.

Valka originally thought the hatchling just wasn't a common species and had never been documented in the viking's Dragon Manuel. It was only a baby, but she could still identify many of its major features: larger wingspan; and similar to an infant Timberjack, only a little smaller with a second set of front legs. He had long horns and a thin neck. His wings made him stand out most to Valka. The dragon's wing bones branch into several distinct diamond-shaped lobes, completed with a thin and pointed tip. His back was a darker purple or blue color and it faded out to a pale white or silver at the tips.

All the dragons in the nest contributed to each other, and all took part in raising the little ones, making sure they didn't get hurt or into serious trouble, so Valka set him loose after she was sure he wasn't hurt. He wandered around on his own, usually playing by himself or settling down and observing the other dragon's daily life until Rama joined him in a play fight or for a game of tag or something that might resemble Hide Fox and All After.

The viking woman had paid little attention to their games at first, but the sight of them spending time together always made her smile.

Valka eventually learned that this was her daughter's companion. Valka had Cloudjumper. He was Rama's dragon half.

It took a while before she convinced the shy hatchling to follow them back to their cave to spend the night with them; but once he found his way inside (and learned that it was safe and he was welcome), he and Rama were inseparable.

They slept together, ate together, explored together. They even got in trouble together.

Rama, who originally was growling and roaring to mimic her Stormcutter father-figure, sounded much like her new dragon partner. Not as deep, something shrill and echoing.

Valka managed to decipher the name of the dragon from these clicks and growls that came from her mouth. 'Snares' was unusual, but Valka thought it fit together perfectly his calm and serene nature.

He was a stark contrast to Rama's aggressive and outgoing personality, but the way her girl said it with such affection made her fill with joy.

It was only after she turned six that Valka learned exactly what Snares was, and that vikings did in fact have a name for his species.

He had flown short distances before, but with all the time he and Rama had spent together, he could never go very far with her hanging onto him like she always was (not that he seemed to mind). But he went through a growth spurt in the span of one summer, growing to a size large enough to fly around the nest with her daughter hanging precariously on his back (which originally made Valka a little nervous, but she learned well that her daughter was as safe in the sky as she was on land (at least when they were flying in the nest surrounded by more responsible dragons that would catch her if she ever fell)). He left a light whistling sound in his wake as he flew here and there.

The sound caused Valka to pause, think back. And it began to make sense. The shy personality, the silver belly and wingtips. How rare he was. Why she had never seen one before.

He was a Silver Phantom.

Silver Phantoms, like Boneknappers and Smothering Smokebreaths, were rare to the point some people believed them to be myths. She should have known better after her years living with them.

A species that flew too high for arrows to hit, avoided humans religiously, and never joined in on the raids.

By the time they were ten, the two were flying like a single being.

Rama grew tough and compassionate to her dragon nestmates, everything Valka wanted from her. She learned to speak Norse to her mother and communicated to the dragons in growls and clicks and purrs indistinguishable from the real thing.

It was her daughter that taught Valka to communicate like that.

Her daughter explained in her own words the right growls and purrs to say, "Good morning", "good night", "Back off", and "I'm hungry".

Valka wasn't as fluent as her daughter and preferred to speak Norse, but she could not deny the usefulness of the skill and listened intently to the sounds of her own dragon companion and her daughter until they could both understand their large reptilian family.

The reptilian family that was far more accepting than the viking one she could have lived with.

It was easier to be a dragon than it was to be a human. Rama knew this, but Valka had trouble leaving behind the traditions ingrained in her soul. Valka had to learn early on which viking traditions she could get away with imposing onto her daughter and which she could not.

Rama often complained about her hair being brushed each morning and put into a complicated braid. She complained about not being able to just jump up from her bed as soon as she woke and onto the back of Snares for a long flight around the nest. She eyed brushes with disdain and scowled menacingly at the floor every time her mother forcibly sat her down for the morning ritual.

The woman really should have seen it coming, actually.

Valka took few things from the viking world back to the nest. Fabric was one, metal was another. Certain methods of cooking though they never seemed to turn out right. Some man-made objects were just a necessity.

She kept a few spare knives and things for cooking around her home cave, picked up from her own raids or visits to viking homes. It was really a matter of time before Rama took one to her own hair.

The girl cut it into sloppy, choppy locks that fell unevenly around her head. A sight that made her resemble a poor viking boy rather than the feral dragon girl she was. Valka shouted at her for it for several minutes while her daughter smiled smugly at her clever tactic. Rama was not easily intimidated, especially when she was certain she was in the right.

She was slightly less smug when Valka grounded her: a term that, in this case, was literal.

Valka could understand the reason behind her daughter cutting her hair to the point it couldn't be tied back, It was more manageable and less likely to get in the way during flight. However, years of tradition behind her made her hesitant to change it. She loved her daughter's bright red hair; she loved braiding it back and running her hands through it. It hurt her inside to see the uneven butchery of her daughter's hair. She needed to fix the horrific sight at once, taking the knife and cutting it into even lengths on each side, tugging slightly harder than was necessary as she did so.

It was a tough few months. Both sides refusing to acknowledge any wrongdoing, having it seep into their relationship and make everything they did together stiff and clumsy. They eventually came to a compromise.

Valka taught her daughter to work with her hands and build up an armor and warm suit that could withstand the frigid temperatures she felt when flying high in the sky and easily bind her hair down so it wouldn't need to be tied back so tightly. Valka had already been thinking of making herself a mask. Freed any dragons she found in traps or cages on her flights out, but she knew eventually she would run into someone. Someone who she might know. Who might recognize her and spread the word. . .

Rama perked up at the idea of armor, knowing full well how easy it was to cut herself falling from a decent height or scrape up her exposed skin when she slipped her footing on the boulders she climbed. All she had to do was promise not to cut her hair.

She did not hesitate.

Together the two of them crafted decorated armor and masked helmets that could disguise them and protect them from the wind and cold while simultaneously honoring their dragon companions.

Valka based hers on the great alpha that guarded and protected them. Her mask had the spines that poked up from his head and the two tusks on either side of his chin. She color coded it asymmetrically, with blue paint and the occasional orange and red stripes. The mask had started simple and evolved over the years, becoming more and more complex as her time as a dragon lady went on.

Rama decorated her own like her dragon brother. She dyed it pale colors, the purple and blue from her dragon found its way over her back and down the nose of her pale white and ivory mask.

Her mask did not have the same horns and spines that her mother's did. She felt it was inconvenient, interrupted the astonishing speeds her companion liked to fly at.

The girl was a daredevil.

Even as young as thirteen, she spent her time out hunting boars and things with her bare hands. She gained practice from tackling and slamming down the horns of playful Monstrous Nightmares or wrestling with juvenile Gronckles. Rama's green eyes were wild and vicious and could terrify the hearts of normally aggressive wild wolves and pigs.

By the time she was fifteen, she was going off alone on trips for weeks at a time, returning with wild grins and cooked meats from creatures Valka had never tasted before. At first, Valka was nervous about the risk taking her daughter was known for; but the knowledge that she rode eased this. A clear-headed and calm dragon like her Silver Phantom was a perfect match. Valka trusted Snares to keep her safe since he was one of the few creatures Rama would even listen to.

No, Rama didn't act exactly like Stoick. Valka knew this.

Rama was what Stoick would have been if he'd been raised away from other people, without the responsibility and knowledge he would one day become chief of the tribe. She lacked his discipline and the expectations Stoick's father had placed on his shoulders at a young age. Something she was sure her own son had grown to fill the boots of.

But Rama had the same protective nature in her eyes when she fought off dragon trappers on the back of her lifelong partner.

It put an ache in her heart, but the similarities between them made so many things easier for her. Rama did not ask her questions about vikings. Valka wasn't sure what her daughter thought, or knew. Rama had never asked why they were the only humans to ride and live with dragons. The only ones who saw them for what they were.

Valka meditated on it, uncertain whether or not it was a good thing that her girl never asked.

She had avoided it for twenty years.

She had been able to only think of it in passing, comparing the hard strength of her daughter to the bull-like intensity of her husband. Thinking about them more than they would ever realize.

But, oh gods.

Rama was just like Stoick.

She did not need to know what wasn't directly in front of her. She did not need to think of a world outside of the one she lived in. She knew dragons, lived and hunted and rode with them. She did not know vikings. They were cruel and savage creatures that were to be avoided, or fought, or killed.

She was just like Stoick.

Rama knew what families were, of course. There were many dragons that mated for life, raised their young together and kept in touch with family regularly. But Rama had never had any father figure apart from Cloudjumper. She had no human siblings. She saw no humans that weren't immediately aggressive to her or the dragons she so fiercely protected.

Rama never asked about her father, and Valka never told her.

But then Hiccup was there.

Spotted while he was flying somewhere west of the nest on the back of a Night Fury of all dragons.

At first when she had spotted him, Valka had thought he was no better than the trappers that used dragons as slaves to fight and work for them. The rare black dragon she saw was missing a tailfin, replaced with a man-made leather contraption so bright and red it was like the rider was bragging at having done it. It was common viking knowledge: the easiest way to down and kill a dragon was to take out the wings or tails.

The easiest way to have a dragon at your mercy.

It seemed this man had done just that: crippled the dragon to the point it could not fly without assistance.

The creatures were born to fly. The black dragon would do anything to feel the clouds again.

Even fly with a viking on his back.

Valka had stopped them in their tracks immediately, pulling up from beneath cloud coverage and into their path to distract them. The rider was a relatively young man, slimmer than most vikings were, but still handsome.

He did not immediately attack them, but she would not give him the benefit of the doubt.

Valka swung her long staff around, directing one of her followers to grab the rider from the saddle and to follow her lead.

They were over a frozen lake. The fall the dragon took would not hurt him, and he would be herded back to the nest by the pod of Sea Shockers living there.

She did not miss the horrified yell from the snatched rider being carried behind her.

Nor his pleading voice as she took him back to her home.

"Hey! You left my dragon back there! He can't fly on his own; he'll drown!"

The concern in his tone was not lost on her, but she did not warrant a reply. She simply locked the knowledge away in her head, ready to test this dragon rider without mercy.

She flew through the nest into the darker caverns where the nocturnal dragons slept and had him dropped in the middle of it all.

She fully expected him to freak out, perhaps scream, maybe let out a war-cry and try his hand at taking down a few before they killed him.

But none of that happened.

He landed on his feet, looking around frantically and called out to her, "We have to head back for my dragon!"

Perhaps he was obsessive. The Night Fury (she couldn't think of anything else it could be) was a priceless dragon in the trapping world. Maybe this character was materialistic, valuing his 'property' more than his own life.

But he surprised her again.

He held out steady hands to the closest dragon in front of him before reaching down his left to grab the hilt of something metal on the side of his leg.

It was no weapon she had ever seen, a sword or axe or anything that could do any real damage. Valka would not have set him in the center of the cavern if she thought he was a threat to any of the dragons nearby.

He clicked one of the buttons on the strange object and a glowing rod ejected from one end. She saw it drip steadily a few times as he held what looked like a flaming sword in front of himself. She recognized it as Monstrous Nightmare saliva.

He waved it around, over his shoulders in a similar way she did with her own staff. She had based hers off of the windy, echoing sounds the alpha made as he took control of his dragons under him. Hers did not have such a wide reaching effect as the original, but it helped with training she combined with the clicks the staff could make.

But it seemed like the flaming sword worked in a more visual way. Valka watched as the Snafflefang's eyes dilated and grew more loving and trusting towards the stranger.

She had never seen another viking capable of this feat.

Only herself. . .

. . . And her daughter.

Valka stayed where she was.

It was one thing to calm a dragon, he still had the rest of the cave to please before she was ready to make another move toward him.

He seemed to realize it too. While the dragon directly in front of him was fine with the intruder, the dragon behind him was still skeptical, claws tapping impatiently on the floor and ready to march forward threateningly. One a few rows back let out a whining roar, and the man looked up and glanced around himself again, the flaming sword dropped to his side.

He spun on his heel, which Valka now noticed he only had one of. Just below the knee to his left leg was cut off and replaced with a prosthetic.

In a flash the light of the fire was gone, and Valka's well trained eyes watched in the dark as he pulled a small canister from his flesh leg. He ejected something from the device in his hand and then popped in the new one in one fluid motion. By this point, there were several dragons all around him closing in and ready to take out their frustrations from their interrupted sleep.

The young man flipped the object in his hand and swooped his leg around as he sprayed a strong-smelling green gas around him into a circle. Using his free hand, he blocked his face and ignited it with the push of a button. The small spark turned the green gas into black smoke, and all the surrounding dragons took a collective step back away from him.

It was like a switch had flipped in their minds.

The man now stood up straight and confident, holding out one hand to the dragon closest to complete the bond.

It was then Valka interrupted.

He knew what he was doing, she'll give him that.

But she was still on the defensive, her shield in front of her and her staff at the ready as she circled him in sideways steps.

"Who are you?" He asked as soon as she entered his field of vision.

She did not answer.

"The dragon thief?"

Nothing.

"Uhh," He looked less and less on edge as she continued to circle him in silence. "Drago Bludvist?"

He all but confirmed he was not working with Drago just by asking that.

Unless he was trying to trick her.

She wasn't taking any chance.

She stopped in her path.

"Do you even understand what I'm saying?" He sounded a little impatient now, but she barely heard him as she began swing her staff around and slam the end to the stone floor below them.

At her signal, the dragons flew from the cover behind her and brought out the Night Fury he had been riding. He was soaking wet, probably cold from the temperature outside, but dragons had an immeasurable tolerance to temperature fluctuations and would be perfectly fine.

"Toothless!" The young man's face lit up once he saw his dragon again, and Valka watched as he lunged forward to grab the Fury's face into a hug. He murmured quiet reassurances to his companion. "I'm glad to see you too, bud."

The dragon seemed to share this sentiment, nuzzling back at the rider, shaking water from his head.

"You really had me worried, there," The rider went on, smiling as the dragon gave his entire right side of his face a long lick.

You can't fake that.

Valka turned slightly to the side, shaking her staff a few times to encourage the surrounding dragons to give more light. Then she took the few steps closer, leaving behind her shield and staff to crawl towards the aggressive dragon that was now curling around his rider protectively.

It only took a wave of her hand to reduce the guard to nothing but mush, and then her attention was back on the man.

She moved closer, hand outstretched, taking a good long look at his face.

And she saw it.

He had the same scar on his chin, the very last thing Valka had ever seen happen to him. The cut he got from Cloudjumper the day she was taken to the nest for the first time.

She froze, pulling back to lean on the leg farthest from him.

"Hiccup?" Her voice nearly broke as she stared at him.

His reaction confirmed it. She could see it in his face. It was him.

Her son.

Her boy.

With a dragon companion just as she and just as her daughter had.

His sister.

How was she going to explain this?

He did not know her.

Of course. He did not even know she was his mother.

Even when she told him, with a hopeful, nervous, pray smile, he was gasping.

She couldn't do it here.

She could explain out there, in the nest.

It only took her a few seconds to formulate what could barely pass as a plan.

She shushed his rising questions and waved one hand as a signal for him to follow her.

"Come."

Hiccup did not immediately spot his sister.

Rama was not particularly intimidating in her size, but she could easily give off an aggressive and terrifying aura on the occasion she straightened from her feral crouch or sneaking way she stepped, silently crossing the moss-covered stones below them. Even at 5'10" (a normal young woman's height in the viking world), when she straightened her frame, she was a mountain that could not be moved.

Valka had not spent a very long time speaking with her son before her daughter noticed the guest. Rama was on the back of Snares, creeping silently up from the drop off where many of the more curious dragons were examining the newcomers themselves before she silently slipped from her partner's shoulders and onto the ground behind him and directly within sight of her mother. Rama gave the Night Fury an experienced and calming stroke as she passed before approaching the first human to set foot in the nest since the two had began living there two decades ago.

Hiccup was back to watching the dragons flying around one of the center columns of the open space, taking in the knowledge his mother had just revealed to him. That she was alive and well. That she had been rescuing dragons and had left him and his father alone all this time. He didn't notice the predator behind him until she was only a few feet away.

He nearly jumped out of his skin, stepping a few feet away, arms raised a little defensively at the masked creature creeping up on him.

Valka could only watch, amazed by the drastic difference between them. Her children.

Her son was the thoughtful kind, it seemed. First on the defensive at the intruder before him, not ready to attack or retaliate until she proved herself to be a threat. Her daughter was on the prowl, head tilted curiously as she gave the Hiccup a wider birth and ready to strike at any given moment.

"I- - uhh- - who- -? Who are you?" He was confused, as to be expected.

Rama did not answer him, she merely turned her head farther, circling back around him for a second to examine him from all sides (or as much as he would let her since he was turning to keep her in front of him).

"Uhh, mom?" He turned back to his mother, confused, but less nervous once the initial surprise had worn off.

Rama's mind latched onto the word like a starving animal onto a fresh fish.

Mom?

Rama stopped her movements for a moment.

His mom?

They shared a mother?

Rama threw all caution to the wind.

She had a brother?

She eliminated the space between them at once, almost causing him to step back as she reached out a plain hand just shy of touching him. She stared at his face intently, looking for similarities between the man and his mother. It was harder for her, since she was inexperienced in looking at human faces.

His hair differed from hers. The auburn color lay somewhere between Rama's red and their mother's brown braids. His eyes were like looking into a mirror: the same forest green. But the harder she looked at them the kinder they seemed, a sharp difference from what she saw in her own reflection: the fierceness was gone, replaced with. . . something else. It was like looking at her mother.

Her brother. . .

The young man looked back at her, now uncomfortable with how little distance there was between them.

It was Valka that saved him.

"Rama," She only said her name, but it was not enough to make her daughter look away. "Please, give him some space."

It took effort, but the dragon girl moved a few steps back from her brother, sideways so she could come back to her mother's side. It was something like a woman calling off her dog: amplified by the inhuman mask covering Rama's face and the ferocious crouch she stepped around him with.

Even the dragon-like way her mother crouched was easier to manage than her. Rama had known nothing different.

"Hiccup," Valka continued, nervousness hiding new excitement from standing in the presence of her son again after all these years. "This is Rama," She hesitated for a moment before continuing, eyeing his reaction. "Your sister."

There was a moment of nothing.

Then.

"Si- - My si- -" Hiccup's eyes were wide, staring at his mother as though she could be lying to him.

Valka herself had turned to her girl, growling something that might come deep from the throat of a Stormcutter, her head making a sharp jerk to amplify it.

Take off your mask.

Rama did as her mother asked, reaching a curled hand up to unlatch the stained ivory and reveal her face.

Hiccup was still trying to wrap his confused mind around the shock as he watched her do this. His sister? Was she adopted by Valka during the two decades his mother had been gone? Was she snatched up and taken to the nest as a baby? Or was she really a blood relative? A half sibling?

It seemed impossible to comprehend, from the stories told that she could be a half sister. His father worshiped the stories left behind by Hiccup's mother, a woman the son never had the chance to know. The only woman his father ever seemed to love and who had loved him back just as fiercely. Valka might have stayed away for twenty years; but she wouldn't break from their marriage like that, would she?

She had left his father, was it not possible she fell in love with someone else?

But then his sister took off the mask covering her and there was no room left for doubt.

The same red hair, same upturned round nose, same sharp look in the same green eyes.

His sister.

An image of Stoick the Vast.

"Rama," Valka looked at her girl when she did nothing. "This is your- -"

"- - brother," Rama interrupted.

Her voice was strange, he noticed. Rough around the edges in a way he couldn't quite describe. Leaning closer to the accent the older generation, including his mother, carried than the way he and his friends spoke, despite them being about the same age.

Was there an etiquette to this sort of thing?

Considering it was Hiccup that had the most social experience between the three, they didn't stand a chance.

Or so he thought, right until Toothless nudged forward to say a proper hello to the newest member of the little family. He grinned a fangless smile at her and she smiled right back, a wolf- -no, dragon-like grin that would make a younger him freeze in his place.

But she bounded around his lifelong partner, his best friend, like they'd known each other all their lives. Slowly turning their game into a play fight. One she held up her own in as though she had the strength of a Rumblehorn. The sight was a mockery of his own attempt just that morning.

Despite the three inches he had on his little sister, he once again felt like the hiccup in the family.

Even against the stress he felt over the situation, the confusion and what might could be resentment, he laughed a little to himself at the visual before him and asked his mother more questions. They slowly got more used to each other's company. Slowly relaxing. His head wrapped around the dreamlike development.

Hiccup didn't even notice when his little sister and his companion stopped their little game. He didn't hear her own low growling roar directing Toothless to her new plan. It blended in so well with the rest of the nest, the background noise of roars and echos, that he wasn't aware he was being hunted until she tackled him in the side and knocked him off his feet.

He was surprised at it, the sheer force, not at all expecting any danger from being in a nest of dragons, and let out a little shout before he saw her knelt down by his side, lightly batting at him like his Night Fury friend had done so many times.

She was grinning, he could see. A playful one Toothless wore most of the time. But it was hesitant, not confident with how he would react to her game. She was as unsure of him as he was of her.

Unlike Hiccup, who grew up with vikings and had friends with siblings, Rama's only experience with brothers was the way she played with Snares and how she saw hatchlings playing with their broodmates.

But he was saved from an awkward encounter when a black nose stuck in close to his face and licked and cover his entire ear with slobber. Rama, that was her name, jumped up at the distraction and moved back to stand by their mother who was watching the entire exchange with glee.

"Ahh, Toothless!"

The Night Fury stepped back to allow him to stand again, his gummy smile was contagious and Hiccup couldn't help feel at peace again. Not even worrying about the looming dragon war. Everything was fine.

He couldn't forgive his mother right away, but he couldn't bring himself to be mad when he watched the sister he never knew he had begun encouraging a pale dragon he had never seen before to step closer and say hello.

Hiccup felt the usual excitement that filled his bones whenever he saw a new dragon like this one. The excitement he had been feeling since he first stepped foot into the open nest.

She coo'd at the shy creature, and he took the time to listen to the calls she made. Hiccup himself could mimic Toothless' call. All the riders on Berk could call their dragons like that, but his sister took it to an entirely new level. Having what seemed to be a whole conversation with growls and purrs.

Rama was curling up close to what looked like her own dragon. There were few dragons he had never seen, but the pale white and purply-blue one before him was remarkable.

Eventually Rama could push him forward where Toothless rumbled out a friendly hello and sniffed the newcomer's long snout in greeting.

The red hair on Rama's head was bouncing with her a little as she introduced her partner to her new brother.

"Snares is a little shy of new dragons," Valka informed him as the Phantom began a half circle to eye Hiccup up. Hiccup lifted a hand in his own hello and immediately the white dragon took a step back and narrowed his eyes, "And he's especially not used to vikings."

Rama barked something else out and Snares stepped up again, staring him down intently. Combined with the encouragement of his lifelong friend and rider, along with Hiccup's experience and love of dragons, it was a welcome new friendship between them.

His hands brushed over the nose of his sister's dragon, and his mother told him the species and story behind the rare sight.

They went flying out with him, his mother leading the way while his sister and her dragon flew quick circles around him that could easily rival Toothless' speed. They flew out with the thunder of dragons from the nest following to catch fish and eat and celebrate in a way he hadn't imagined possible.

One thing led to another, and he'd spent hours with his family without even a thought spared to his responsibility to go talk down Drago. Or to speak to his mother about his father.

He forgave her without thinking about it.

Was there ever a chance he wouldn't?

There was a drastic difference from their reunion when Stoick had arrived.

It was easy for Rama to forget that her mother had been a viking before coming to live with the dragons since she had heard the story a few hours earlier. Hiccup didn't look like any viking she had ever seen before. He walked different. Stood different. His eyes were different, and when he looked at the surrounding dragons he saw them for what they were - - so unlike the trappers she was accustomed to fighting and hating.

This all abandoned her when she stood in front of her father.

She'd been there when he walked in, she could hear them clambering around in the caves, heard Hiccup's voice arguing with another viking's as they made their way through the nest. Rama had seen her usually fearless mother stiffen up, freeze in her place and do nothing to address the intruders.

Her lips had peeled back in a silent snarl when she saw the large, menacing, red viking man enter their chamber with a sword drawn. At first, he looked exactly like all the other vikings she had taken down in her life. Uncaring to the world of dragons and she was ready to fight him, but then- -

His eyes landed on her mother, and he froze in his place.

His sword dropped from his hand, and he removed his bull-horned helmet from his head.

Rama had never seen a viking do that before.

And she watched, the reaction her mother had to him approaching her so slowly. Rama listened as she pleaded and slowly understood.

This Stoick was her father.

She could see it.

He was like her.

He was now standing in front of her. It was their turn to meet and unlike her encounter with Hiccup; she was suddenly unsure of what she should be doing.

"Stoick," Valka was by her husband's side. Hiccup was standing by Rama's, watching. "This is Valhallarama."

Valka never used Rama's full name unless she was in trouble, which Snares usually kept her out of; but Rama's eyes never left the ones in front of her.

Her father's eyes were soft now, looking over her face and the striking resemblances between them, and he repeated her name, "Valhallarama."

"Rama. After your mother."

Rama never knew this.

"You didn't tell me you were- -"

She named her after her father's mother.

"I didn't know until after."

Rama and Stoick didn't need to share words together. They were both too confused by the turn of events, unsure of their places together, but intrigued all the same. Stoick raised his hand slowly and patted her bright red hair, the short braid that rested over her shoulder.

She was as beautiful as his mother. As beautiful as his wife. He smiled at her.

He pulled her to his chest and hugged her against him.

At first Rama did nothing in return, the thick beard against her cheek was itchy and uncomfortable, but the arms surrounding her were nice. It was much softer than she was used to. Much smoother than the rough scales of dragons she felt all her life. She took a few moments before she could raise her arms up and return the gesture.

They were too alike to talk.

In fact, the day they met, they shared no direct words with each other at all.

They had all the time in the world now to get used to it, they both thought. For Rama to learn to interact with him. To talk and engage and train with her father like they would have done if he had raised her.

And he would have all the time in the world to figure out what words he wanted to say to her. What stories he wanted to tell her about her viking culture she didn't know. About her heritage as a Haddock.

He could take her fishing and hunting, like he used to do with Hiccup before- -

They had all the time in the world to figure it out.

They didn't need words.

They had time.