"If I get at least sixth, maybe that'll make them happy? What do you think, Toothless? Emmy thought it was a nice idea." The little girl smiled proudly as she went over her notes, chicken-scratched ruins drawn on the scraps of paper she'd hoarded. "If we give them a peace offerin', they won't have ta steal no more, right? They can be our friends too, just like the dragons!"

The larger dragon huffed in discontent. The vikings wouldn't ever have allies like the dragons, not to quite the same extreme. The adolescent green terror in her lap however, purred happily, unaware of everything going on around her.

"Okay, maybe not AS gooda friends as the dragons, but friends, right?"

She snuggled against night fury and sighed happily. "Maybe we can have them over for supper sometime? Maybe Gram can make her smoked cod again? But what if they don't like cod, like you don't like eels? I like cod, does everyone?"

Her ramblings were cut off by the sound of the front door squeaking open. "Arnora?"

"Up here!"

She sat up as her mother came up the stairs to the loft. "Why aren't you out with Halla and the others?"

Arnora proudly held up her papers, nearly knocking the disgruntled Emmy out of her lap as she tried to hand them to her mother. "I'm working on this."

"What is it?" she asked, trying to decipher what she could of the 5 year old's writing.

"A peace treaty, to stop 'em from being thieves."

Her mother sat across from her, metal armour clanking against the wood as she did. She hadn't been out from training for fifteen minutes and here Arnora was already coming up with some sort of plan or scheme. "Stop who from being thieves?"

Arnora looked confused. How could she not know? Wasn't it common knowledge? Shouldn't the chief's wife know all these things? "The trolls, of course. I was at the forge this mornin' and Uncle Gobber was talking 'bout the trolls that" she stopped to clear her throat and began to imitate his heavy accent, "steal yer socks in the night ya know, but only da left ones!"

"Uncle Gobber was telling you, was he?" Her mother laughed, ruffling her daughter's white-blonde hair, the half-undone braid falling out even more. "So you're just going to give them socks?"

"Yup! I'm gonna collect some donations from the villagers! I bet they'll have some, and maybe if the trolls become our friends, they can help us! I bet they could rob the berserkers! Then they could take both socks, and what are they gonna do, fight with no socks on? That's be ridiculous, they'd ruin their boots!"

Her mother smiled, much to her daughters confusion. "You're your father's daughter, you know that right?"

In a very matter of fact tone, Arnora reminded, "I'm your daughter too Mama."

"That you are."

Arnora crossed her arms and leaned back against Toothless's side. "You know," she began thoughtfully, "I betcha Daddy's got a bunch of left socks, he does only need the right ones!" She jumped up, the terror squealing as she was thrown from her spot. "Is he still at the academy?"

"Should be. Why don't you and Emmy go take a look?"

The little girl scoped up the terror, setting her ontop of her already messy hair. "Alrighty! We'll be back by supper! And then I'm gonna find the trolls!"

She scampered out of the house faster than once thought possible, crumpled papers clutched protectively in her little hands and the terror clinging on for dear life.

Toothless, now happily relieved of his "babysitting" duties, jumped to his feet and stretched out his back. Her turned to his rider's wife eagerly, shaking as if he'd been trapped in the house for days, rather than an hour or two.

"Well, go on, I'm sure he's going to want to go flying as soon as he's done with her peace treaty!"

Didn't have to ask him twice.

"Wait, Toothless!" she called from the doorway.

The dragon turned around, wings drooping disappointedly.

"Keep an eye on her till she gets there? Keep her from somehow hurting herself until she gets there?"

The night fury huffed, she had to give him the most impossible task she could think of?

"At least try?"

He nodded before bolting off to catch up.

"And now," she sighed, "I should probably go see "Uncle Gobber about those stories of his. C'mon Stormfly!"