I came screaming in silently over the ocean, like a glint of moonlight off the face of a knife. I'd lost the last TransAtlantic broadcast hours ago and the radio sat useless in one of my bags. I wouldn't need it or be able to use it again for a long while, I suspected.

It was weird feeling the cold again. Sure I'd grown up in it and had been in hellish places far colder, but this was just the right temperature to give my memory a kick in the teeth. A slew of memories came flooding back at me like one of the railway cars in Emerald City and hit me like a hammer in the forge. Most of them were bad.

Kids kicking me, Snotlout beating me, my dad shouting, people laughing, Astrid… no, it wasn't like that anymore. Or it shouldn't be. It hadn't been like that when I left. But a year and a half is a long time for people to change. To forget.

My hands grew slick with sweat and they grew stiff and awkward on the saddle grips, cramping and flaring in pain. The Basilisk hide gloves were great for flame repellent and comfort, but bad for the wet and cold. I released the hand holds and flexed my fingers, trying to bring some feeling back into them.

But I thought again: What had been people been saying? What had they been doing? What were they thinking? How did it all relate to me?

It's not that I cared. If things had changed for the worse I could always leave again. I was my own man now, free to make his own decisions. But I couldn't help but think of one person. The only person who I cared about and dreamt about every single night.

Toothless warbled back at me, feeling my apprehension. "It's okay bud," I said, patting his head. "I'm fine." I took a breath, the cold air filling my lungs and burning my chest. "I'm fine."

The cold was really getting to me, so was the silence. I'd been in the warmth for so long that now… it all seemed foreign and uncomfortable. And the silence. How long had it been since I couldn't hear anything, if not for the bustling empires or the noisy canopies, the cacophony of birds and monkeys, the roars of lions and tigers, the singing and chanting, the steam and machines of Emerald City, when was the last time I had truly been surrounded by nothing?

It had been hours, Toothless pushing himself to his top speed, no problem for the Night Fury, and we were closing more ground than the engines could possibly dream of. It was as if we were an ebony shooting star, skimming the air five hundred feet off the water.

I heard a whale singing and grinned, finally, something to break the monotony. I couldn't see it or hear it after a stark minute, but just knowing it was there was comforting.

I coughed and felt snot rise in the back of my throat. Some of it drizzled down my nose. Yeah, I was really not digging the cold. I hawked a wad of snot out into the ocean and Toothless glared back at me.

None of that had better have gotten on my wing, the glare said. I laughed and choked on the bitter wind.

"Toothless, bud, this stuff is killing me." I reached into my saddle bag and found another bag, the bag with the endless bottom. Next to that was my facemask and helmet, lined with fur. I put it on and sighed. It reduced visibility but also reduced the wind and cold dramatically. Pure bliss.

I saw lights in the distance. Not Berk but I was getting close. I'd probably be there in an hour, maybe less. We passed over the little village without a sound, just a blot in the moonlight.

The silence set in again and it was quite unwelcome. If there was nothing to hear there was only time to think. And when I had time to think it could go one of two ways. It could go great and I'd wind up with some marvelous invention or learn some new dialect or trick, or, worse case scenario, I would make up sounds. Hear voices and think them real. It was dangerous and even though I knew no one was up here with me, (there couldn't be) something in my brain would tell me that there was. It would convince me of it and I'd have to physically go about putting the problem to rest.

But nothing happened the rest of the ride. I thanked someone, who I didn't know, that it hadn't happened. I'd been doing well lately and didn't think I needed the medication anymore. Or at least I hoped I didn't. But I kept it just in case. It was in the bag with the endless bottom.

There was something else I was wondering how I was going to explain to people… magic. I'd known of basic magic like Gothi's, but the magic I'd discovered in my travels… from a group of four in Scotland to the reaches of the Eastern Lands, from the shores of the Western World and the Land of a Million Beasts, there was true magic everywhere. I'd just have to hide it from them. I don't think they would truly ever understand.

Then I saw it. I saw Berk sitting on the horizon. A small glint against the night, nothing but a warm, dying ember on the end of a candlewick, but I knew it was Berk. Then I could hear the noises in my head. Not bad ones, even though they were fabricated. They were good ones. Noises of laughter and Gobber's out of tune singing, the noises of applause and his father's boisterous chuckle. And her giggle, her voice, her moan. I could hear them all like one hears the birds in the morning. We came up on it fast but at the last second I turned Toothless to the left, heading west back over the forest.

"Make for the cove, bud."

He glanced back but I didn't notice. I wasn't ready, I think. Not yet anyway. I'd been alone for so long, besides for Toothless, that it seemed foreign in a way to be home. The world was my home and it had been for a year and a half. I slept in caves and on forest floors. I slept in rainstorms and in blizzards with only Toothless for warmth. I slept on mountain edges and jungle canopies. I slept in ornate homes and wooden huts. But to have a home to go to every day? A bed that waited while you worked and went through your daily life? The thought was unfathomable. It in fact scared me.

We set down in the cove and I hopped off Toothless a little too eagerly, getting my prosthetic caught in the hinge. I toppled over and my dragon snorted. "Thanks a lot."

I unshackled myself and stood up. Here it was. Where my adventure had begun seven years ago. The place where I'd stared down a Night Fury. Where I'd met my best friend. And where my life had changed for good.

Toothless bumped me in the back of my legs and gesture towards the saddle. I took it off and disconnected the connecting rod. He ran towards the pool at the edge of the cove and disappeared beneath the surface. How he could swim in such cold was beyond me.

I gathered some wood and started a fire. I didn't even bother Toothless to light it; I used the little contraption I'd picked up in Emerald city. The everlasting flame. It was small, only about the size of two fingers (normal sized fingers, for a Viking it would be one finger) and held an oil inside of it. A wheel turned at the top near a hole and some flint and steel ignited into a flame that I could carry around. It worked in dry or wet weather. I had bottles of oil to refill it.

I took out my bed roll and a large white pelt, Yeti fur, from my saddle bag and lied down beside the fire, shivering. Toothless was still off gallivanting and I felt sleep coming on fast.

Tomorrow. I'd go back tomorrow. But I needed one last night of freedom. I fell into a labored slumber.

At first I dreamt about the Northern Lands. The lands of Ice and the great Northern Sea, where monsters unknown to mere mortals lurked and waited. I had still been inexperienced in my travels and almost died of the cold.

Then there had been the Frost Giants.

They were huge, ugly and horrifying creatures. You had to crane your back just to look up at them. No two looked alike either. Some had one eye, others three. Some had no hair and others had hair so long that it trailed in the snow behind them. All of them had lipless mouths, showing off their sharp, giant teeth. Then there were the horns.

Horns grew out of everywhere; ears, head, shoulders, chest, nose, knees, backs. The sprouted like warts all over their bodies. They looked like demons, every single one of them. Even the women, well what I thought were women, were grotesque, if not worse, what with their distorted and larger than life breasts.

Toothless and I had been camped out in an ice cave when I saw my first one. I had fallen on my backside when I saw the blue foot come rolling past, making the ground quake as it moved. Toothless growled but I shushed him back inside. Then, the thing looked down at me. It didn't bend over, just looked, as if it heard a fly buzzing around. I was thankfully fully equipped in a seal skin suit and blended in with the snow. But I couldn't get that awful feeling out of the pit of my stomach. Those bright yellow eyes staring right at me before it lazily turned its head and moved on.

I had a dream that night, but I couldn't and still can't remember what it was about, all I knew was that it… something told me, no, WARNED me to go west, to the New Lands, lest we be found by the Frost Giants and been eaten. I was more than happy to oblige.

But even though we followed the land westward, we still encountered the Frost Giants. They were not as frequent the farther south we went however and eventually they disappeared altogether as I entered the New Lands.

Then I dreamt I heard a noise. It was soft, like feet on wet grass. Then it was quiet. I tried to open my eyes but something wouldn't let me. I tried to move but I felt the fur rise from my body and then fall back over it. Something warm and strong like arms enveloped me from behind and I smelled honeysuckle. Something tickled my face. I felt a firm, moist push on the back of my neck and felt warm air slide over my ear.

"Welcome home," said a voice so sweet I nearly cried. It was an odd dream. But it was the best one I have ever had.

It was early when I woke. The sun hadn't even broken the horizon yet, but there was a pink hue to the sky and it was just light enough for me to see. I was on my side. Odd. I usually slept on my back. I moved and something kept me from doing so. Arms. Arms were slung around me. I noticed something in my mouth… hair? Breathing on the back of my neck? What the hell was going on—

The dream. It wasn't a dream. It had been real. I was wrapped in the arms of, "Astrid," I breathed. I heard a groan.

"Still too early. Go back to sleep."

I whipped around and looked into the face of someone I had dreamt about every night for a year and a half.

"Astrid?" I asked, my breath faltering.

One blue eye opened and looked at me. It closed again. "Ugh. Too early. Sleep now, kisses later."

"Astrid!" I cried out.

"Hiccup." She opened her eyes and smiled tiredly. "Hi."

A smile split my face and I gathered her in my arms, my hands rushing to her hair and back, and crushed her to me. I was crying and she returned the hug just as harshly. I felt my neck and collarbone grow cold and watery.

"I really hope this isn't some cruel dream," I whispered through my tears.

She shook her head. "No, babe, it isn't. You're here. I'm here. You're home." She laughed and wrapped her legs around my torso. I pulled back and saw it in her face. She was hoping that it wasn't some dream either. Perhaps if I didn't say it she'd melt away into nothing like she had so many times before.

"I'm home."

She crashed her lips to mine.