A/N Hello! Thank you so much to my two reviewers! As to the sixty plus visitors mingling in the shadows back there, *Waggles fingers* Yes, YOU! Review, please! I still can't believe the array of people that read this story over the weekend- people from all over the world. People from countries that sound like jewels! Where, I come from, is named after a FRUIT. A lousy fruit- not even an interesting one, like an avocado or a KUMQUAT. But, I still love it to shreds- just like Camicazi and the islands. :) Sorry- I have a tendency to rant.

I adore you guys, but still- REVIEW! :D

Hope you enjoy! LadyM

I was born a child of this land.

I was nourished by the whistling ferns, I learned to walk by the thick of the marshes, and grew up with the night stars shimmering in my eyes every fortnight as I drifted off to sleep.

You were born a child of your people.

It was they who held the key to your sorrows, and the lock to your unfound joys.

We were both the only ones, the only hope of our parents.

You, if you don't mind me saying so, were the disappointment of your father; and, nonetheless, your entire tribe.

(Well, UP until this bit of my story, but I'll get into that later.)

I, I am proud to say, was the very source for the gray hairs that now intertwine through my mother's silvery plaits.

We were two different people. We came from different homes, were suckled from different loves, and opened our young child-like eyes to different skies.

Yet, somehow, our paths came melting together, dancing in glorious braids around the twine of fate.

HOW was I to appreciate that, at the daft young age of ten?

I didn't, that's how.

I snuck away- I shimmied out the window and paddled away in mum's rowboat in the thick of night. No-one was quite expecting it, I knew. But I still remember the horrible yell my mother let out that resounded off the waves; more than audible to my small ears, despite being several miles away.

I kept rowing on, though; I AM a bog-burglar, you know.

NOTHING can stop me.

I kept my eyes stark open through the dead of night, trained on the steadily growing outline of Fort Sinister, unfolding like crumbly story-pages before my eyes.

Lousy Romans- even I despised them, with their idiotic skirts and dragon nicking habits.

I was planning to nick a dragon right back from under their hairy despicable noses, I was- one of MY very own.

But, for ONCE, things didn't go to plan.

Here I was, this tiny stubborn little tangle of a girl, a VIKING; that, in all her childishly naive refusal to be defeated, was, in fact, defeated.

Captured, to be exact; rotten lot, the whole of them- ROMANS.

They threw me in their topmost cell, with nothing but the straw beneath my fingertips to stare me back in the face.

The first few days, I was alright.

I could almost HEAR my mother's thundering voice in my ear-

'Strong you are, Camicazi. STRONG is what you will have to be.'

I gazed out the window, out at the churning blue ocean, searching for a ship that never came.

'Strong you are, Camicazi,'

She was late.

Not that I was WORRIED.

I was getting used to the waiting, to the loneliness.

The next few days, I was aching, positively ACHING to be free.

To be back home, to be running my fingers over the willow-bark tree, to feel the smooth leather hilt of my hunting dagger enclosed tight around my fingers. I found myself missing my mother's morning songs, the busy hum of the town that resonated off the hills, and the glorious cries of praise I received from all those around me in training. Everything I had taken for granted before had now left a huge, gaping HOLE in my chest. A hole I didn't even think I had the capacity to feel began to fill with longing and homesickness, gushing like a deep spring in my heart.

She was late, for the first time EVER.

That was when you came along.

You, and Fishlegs came tumbling through the doorway; two mighty strange looking crabapples, if I'VE ever seen any.

You have no IDEA how pleased I was, to have an excuse to whip up my sword and be able to dodge and gleam and parry, almost as if nothing had changed at all.

Fishlegs was a bust, I snipped the cords of his trousers in no time at all, much to his outrage.

YOU gave me a harder time, I'll admit.

I remember watching you as you fought with me, your rust-colored hair swinging over your olive green eyes, tongue flapping crazily as you tried to explain yourself to me, all-the-while trying desperately to avoid losing a limb.

"ROMANS!" I had cheered terribly at first, "Face me like MEN, you donkeys in skirts!"

It was the MOST fun I had had in WEEKS.

I would have been enjoying myself immensely, if it weren't for the fact that you simply REFUSED to be defeated. It was a tongue-in-cheek situation indeed.

I finally stopped chatting enough to hear you speak between the clangs of metal.

"We-"

Dodge.

"Don't-"

Parry!

"WANT to fight!"

Pant.

"Not ROMAN-"

Deflect- rats!

"From BERK!"

You sputtered, and I finally lowered my sword, puzzled.

"Just as well," I snapped, "My mother HATES Berk,"

"And MY father hates the Bog-Burglars," You spat, face reddening, sitting down on the cold cell floor.

I smirked and something inside of me broke down. I could hardly believe WE, had something in common, even if it WAS mutual hatred.

I took your hand and helped you up.

"I am ze GREAT Camicazi," I announced, grinning widely.

You turned red as a tomato, and let go of my hand like it were on fire.

"…My name's Hiccup," you stated warily, "and THAT-", you gestured to the indignant little crabapple that I had dealt with earlier, "Is Fishlegs- my friend,"

"Nice to meet you!" I called to the boy.

Fishlegs just huffed and hoisted his leggings up higher.

We were a motley crew, if there ever was one.

You, from Berk.

Fishlegs, from nowhere.

Me, from Bog-burglar islands.

Yet, together, we hatched a plan. Or, I DID, at least.

YOU were the one that got us out of that awful Roman arena, on the day I was certain would be my last. When I had fallen from the riding dragon we nicked, your hand shot out to grab mine like a shot of lightning.

I still remember your eyes, green as the seawater below me, a dark shadow of something that looked curiously like fear flitting in and out of your pupils in the matter of two or so seconds that I fell before you caught me in midair, almost tumbling into certain death. I grasped your fingers even tighter in mine, feeling precariously like a limp rag doll, dangling over the arena full of sharkworms.

For two whole seconds, my life had been in the fate of your hands.

You hoisted me back to the ledge, and we scrambled into a balloon. Yes, A BALLOON!

Mad good inventers, those Romans were, even being as close to the devil as one can come.

We rose, up, and up, and up, higher than my dreams would ever dare to reach.

We were alone, three insignificant pre-teens, floating along the horizon; only a singular speck of color in the entire vast white clouds. Somehow, it managed to steal the very breath away from my lungs, leaving a small fitful blue-jay where my throat would normally be.

My head spun in the unspeakable beauty of it all, with those nearing waves lapping greedily at us, wanting to take us away from this place-to claim us as its own again. I fought to keep my balance and grabbed your forearm, barely keeping upright.

I was there when your father greeted you like a hero for the first time I had ever witnessed, at least. You watched on as my mother and I bickered back like a couple of magpies before she swung me up on her shoulders, glowing, golden-cheeked, and smiling, before the faces of our tribe.

"CAMI-CAZI! CAMI-CAZI! CAMI-CAZI!"

I couldn't stop grinning to save my life.

Our eyes met for a split second in all the festivities, and I knew, deep down, that you understood. I had a feeling right then and there, from somewhere deep down in my heart- HERE is the one that can understand me.

And you did, for the most part, of course.

Somehow I already knew that THIS was the first of MANY adventures to come.

And it WAS.

-\_/-\_/-\_/-\_/-\_/-\_/-\_/-

We were joined at the hip, practically, for the next few years.

Together- us, the motly-est of ALL motley crews!

Over the next three years we trekked, slid, and skied over vast snowy wastelands, searching for the vegetable-that-must-not-be-named to cure Fishlegs of venomous vorpentitus; when, in the end, it turned out YOU were the one that needed the cure.

I had watched you surf over lava, battle the hairy-scary-librarian on your BIRTHDAY, smite Norbert the Nutjob with a strike of lightning, dragon-whisper (And calm) the most angry of all dragons, and save me, for the second time in my life.

It happened when I was in Hysteria.

Not my most brilliant route, I KNOW.

I know this ESPECIALLY, now, because they had caught me in under a day and had me away in one of those wretched hollow-tree prison thingi-ma-jiggers. The only word to describe those days was- DARK.

All those years ago in Fort Sinister, when I had yearned for my mother's rescue, I now yearned for YOURS. You see, I had a LOT of time… to think.

Well, I had a lot of time to do nothing BUT think.

I yearned, just as I had all those times before, to be HOME. To feel applause roll off my back, to feel the bright unrelenting sun upon my neck, to hear my mother rumbling belly-laugh fill the utmost corners of the house.

And- Oh gods, I kept yearned for the old times with you and Fishlegs by my side; my only two friends in the world. I never DID get my dragon from Fort Sinister, but I got YOU guys ; and THAT was as much of a handful I could take, thank you very much.

Not that I minded, particularly.

Things were somewhat different between us three. We were still just as joined at the hip as before, things were almost as normal as before; MINUS the two of you guy's wandering eyes which, I'm quite sure you remember, received a prompt slap in the face.

Fishlegs was taller, now, at fifteen. His shoulders were broader, tawny-brown hair curlier, gait a little less awkward.

You, Hiccup, hadn't changed a BIT. You were taller at fifteen, yes, but you were still thin, even thinner than me. Your hair grew a bit longer than before, and had an aggravating habit of falling in your eyes when we were talking. Your eyes were still the same sea-foam green I saw reflected over the Roman arena three years ago. They were filled with intelligence, questions, and, now, a hunger for acceptance that frightened me to DEATH- and that did not happen often.

I was thirteen, at the time.

Ah, the COVETTED thirteen- it meant much, MUCH more than what you would think, to us Bog-Burglars, but I'll get into that later. For me, it meant the end of my life as I knew it.

I was changing fast, bloody life being as blasted as it is for GIRLS.

I was thickening in places that were as aggravating as it could possibly be, my thoughts morphing into things that I would never even THINK to think before- my hair was even getting SHINY. Oh gods, that was the worst bit- having my hair FUSSED over! You have NO idea.

I tried my best to go back to the small, tangled, FREE little girl I was before, but it simply wouldn't happen. No amount of treachery, rebellion, or haircuts could keep the only body I had known my whole life from growing taller, thinner.

I didn't want the stares- I wanted to be CAMICAZI again.

I would give ANYTHING to have the townsfolk glare at me over their fruit stands again. I would give anything to be that Camicazi again.

My life was cracking at the seams, shifting me in new directions I never wanted to take.

Now, as I sat all alone in the darkness of a hollow tree, I couldn't stop those thoughts from filling my mind, shaking me to the very core.

I knew what was to come as I sat there, dying very, VERY slowly.

I knew that, if I even got out in the first place, I would never see you again.

I curled my knees to my chest, stopping the clammy iron hand that gripped my chest.

'Strong you are, Camicazi. STRONG is what you will have to be,'

I wished, for just a moment, that it were YOUR voice that filled my ears, instead of my mother's.

I found myself wishing for you; to have you by my side again, just like in the roman hot-air balloon. I wished you were there with me like you were countless times before; being there, so I could lean on you, if I really needed to.

Suddenly, a shining beam of sunlight came rocketing through the air around me- and it was your face I saw, shining with sweat and a relieved grin, peering down at me from a hatch in the world above.

"Hiccup!" I cried, throwing my arms around your neck.

"You CAME," I whispered, feeling the blush of your cheeks through my embrace.

"Of course I did," you shrugged off, embarrassed.

You ALWAYS came.

Suddenly, a look of inspiration in your eyes, you reached into your vest and pulled out a tiny, shimmering dragon. A real DRAGON, a myriad of colors, unfurled like a spool of thread from his palm, and blinked at me with huge golden eyes.

"Camicazi," you announced, "Meet Stormfly,"

You gave me a DRAGON.

I could scarcely believe it; I seized her in my hands and let her slither around my shoulders and through my hair, tiny wings beating like mad. I blinked back sudden moisture in my eyes.

I must have frightened you quite a bit, standing there silent, just STARING at you, all weepy eyed.

You smiled sheepishly.

"The meatheads breed them- and I knew how much you wanted one… so, I brought you a dragon," you explained quickly as I flew at you, my arms encircling your neck for the second time that day.

Flushing, you gave me your hand to help me run, leaping and innocent, back into the world I knew and thrived in so well.

And then, it was OVER, like a dream dissolved by the screaming morning sun.

The next thing I knew, the three of us were back at meathead bay, shuffling our feet at the crystal sand wedged between our toes.

I realized that, for the first time IN MY LIFE, I had NO idea what to say.

I let out a sudden cry, and threw my arms around you both, hoping and praying that I wouldn't have to let got- not today.

It certainly took you both by surprise, but you both simply stood there and, like the good little crabapples I had trained you to be, hugged me back. Minutes went by, I knew, until you both peeled away.

My sudden outburst wasn't contemplated too much at all, really.

You both thought 'it MUST be because of what she's been through lately'. But I KNEW.

I knew I had to say something, but it WASN'T going to be goodbye.

I couldn't bear to say goodbye.

"Hello!" I blurted suddenly, while nestling Stormfly in my knapsack, feeling my mother's grip on my elbow, tugging me firmly back to the ship.

"Hello Fishlegs!" I screamed wildly from deck, "Hello Hiccup!"

I watched you both as you disappeared, Fishlegs' eyebrows crinkled in confusion, and you with that understanding gleam in your eyes, smiling the sweetest smile I've ever seen cross a persons' lips.

I shook a bit, letting the salty air sting the moisture from me eyes, only letting a singular rogue tear trickle down my trembling cheek as your faces grew tinier and tinier;

Even in our last moments together, you understood me.

You had given me a dream, happiness- and countless adventures.

But now I was leaving all that behind, one thought piercing my mind stubbornly as we glided over the belly of the ocean;

Goodbye was one of MANY little things I never said to you.