Tony was pretty shocked by the Great Hall. To be fair, all of the buildings he had seen so far had been very modest. This one definitely wasn't. The Great Hall was built was built into the side of a cliff, which is probably why it was still standing. Even dragons can't burn down a building that's built into a giant rock. The doors were massive, easily ten times Tony's height. He barely managed to heave them open, which made Gobber give an unashamed grin. The inside was just as huge. There was a massive firepit in the center of the room, which had flames flickering around the edges. There were long tables around the pit, filled with Vikings eating dinner. Right by the fire, in the middle of all the long tables, was a huge circular table. No one was sitting at that one though, so Tony figured it must have a special purpose.

Gobber walked towards the back of the room where the smell of roasting meat was wafting from. Tony followed silently. Once again, Vikings stared blatantly at him, but thankfully they seemed to find their food more interesting than Tony and stayed at their seats. Food was laid out in large pans along one of the tables. Tony noticed that the food was primarily calorie and protein-heavy foods, such as meat, potatoes, and eggs. There were a couple of vegetable and fruit opinions, but very little. No wonder these Vikings were built the way they were. Tony grabbed a plate and helped himself to a fish and a scoop of potatoes. He could practically hear Jarvis scolding him for the lack of green on his plate. He sighed, and took a small scoop of something green and leafy - lettuce? - and the smallest apple he'd ever seen in his life. He followed Gobber off to the side of the room, and they sat at a table that was thankfully empty of Vikings. Tony immediately dug into his meal, starving after his day at the forge. And he was still recovering from being lost at sea, so he figured that the more calories he got down the better.

"So laddie, I figure that with some instruction, ya might just be able to pull yer weight at the forge! You interested in keeping up the work?"

Tony looked up from his meal, momentarily stunned. "Are you kidding? I haven't even gone to college yet, and I am already one of the best engineers in America. I have an I.Q. of 176. That's genius level, since I know you don't know that. My father is - was - the leader of weapon manufacturing for the United States military. I graduated high school at fourteen, I am supposed to start college at MIT, which is one of the best colleges in America. I created a circuit board when I was four, and an engine when I was seven. And you're saying that with instruction, I might make a decent blacksmith?"

Gobber just gave a cheery grin and answered, "Yup! Ya still need some work, but I figure that since yer too small to help fight, you can make weapons for the others to fight!"

Tony scowled, both at the taunt of his size and the reminder of the dragons. But he didn't want to argue with Gobber about the hunting, and figured he should wait to talk to Stoick. The last thing he needed was Gobber telling Stoick about it before Tony could, and screwing it up.

He sighed. He still needed materials for his radio. "Yeah, I'll work in the forge. When do you want me?"

Gobber's grin widened. "Take tomorrow off, look around the village and meet some people. Then just show up whenever ya get done with breakfast, and we'll work till we're done. Only time we really gotta press to get weapons done fast is during a raid, and right after."

Tony nodded. Sounded easy enough. Also sounded like he would have plenty of free time to work on his radio. Gobber was definitely more relaxed than people who he was used to working with. Now if only Gobber's cheery attitude would rub off on Stoick. Tony took a bite of the little apple, and immediately his face screwed up at the sour juice that ran over his tongue. Fuck, but he had never tasted an apple that tart. No wonder these Vikings don't eat many fruits if this is what they had to work with.

Gobber had been watching expectantly as Tony bit into the apple, and now he howled with laughter. "I was waitin' for that when I saw ya take it! This isn't the South boy, the few vegetables that can grow here are tough and tasteless, and the fruits could eat right through yer teeth! Besides, ya need more meat on yer bones lad, so eat yer taters!"

Tony forced the bite of apple down with a suppressed shudder, and rolled his eyes at Gobber. "Fruits and vegetables have nutrients that are essential for development and all-around health. And besides, I'm gonna eat my damn 'taters'. God you're worse than Jarvis, but in the opposite way."

Gobber cocked his head and studied Tony. "Was that yer dad? The one who died on yer ship?"

Tony froze at the abrupt mention, startled. During all their hours working in the forge, Tony's family and The Seeker hadn't come up once. He swallowed hard and glanced back at his plate. He hadn't really had a chance to truly acknowledge that his family was gone, and he couldn't deal with that fact now without falling apart. So he gave a quick head shake to try to dispel his thoughts, and replied to Gobber. "No, Jarvis is my family's butler. He makes sure everything in the house runs smoothly, and takes care of us. He's more family than my actual family." He hadn't meant to say that. He was shaken by the mention of his parents. It isn't the sort of thing the son of Howard Stark could be caught by the media saying, but then he supposed that wasn't really a problem here. Guess that's one advantage of being stuck in a Viking village. They don't care who Tony is, and aren't looking for gossip they can sell to tabloids.

Gobber nodded like that made perfect sense to him. "Aye. I don't know how these things work with you Southerners, but for Vikings, family is important. And we believe that close bonds tie ya closer than just blood ever could. Stoick is my best friend, and although we don't share any blood, he's my brother in every way that matters. Sounds like this friend of yers is the one who's yer true family."

As goofy and ridiculous as Gobber tended to be, sometimes he had the ability to say something that just shut Tony right up. He had no idea what to say to that. Howard and Maria were his parents. Even if they were absent from a lot of his life, they were the only family he had. What would people say if Tony Stark publically said something like Gobber had just said? If Tony had said that Jarvis was his true family, and Howard was irrelevant? He could just imagine the backlash. There wasn't much he had found he liked about the Vikings so far, but he wished Americans would take a page from their book on this. It would be nice if he could just live his life without every move being analysed and judged by the public. But it would never happen.

So Tony just shrugged and tried to steer away from the subject. Besides, there were plenty of other things about The Seeker to speculate on. "Well, he probably thinks I'm dead. The ship I was on would have automatically sent out a distress signal when it when down, and since they didn't find me, they probably just assumed I died and my body was lost at sea. I still don't know why no one came while I was on the raft. It shouldn't have taken more than maybe a day at most to reach the ship by air. Shorter if they sent someone from somewhere close than the U.S." Tony had been thinking about it since waking up in Gothi's hut. It really didn't make any sense.

Gobber shrugged. "I dunno much 'bout Southerner's ships, or yer air-ship thingies - "

"Airplanes."

"- But if you were close enough that yer little air boat could float into our waters, then you were pretty far 'way from the Southern lands. It woulda taken 'em a long time to get there, and once they did, there was probably there was probably nothin' for 'em to see and they wouldn't even know where to look for ya."

It was a surprisingly reasonable conclusion, and Tony realized that Gobber was probably not as dumb as Tony had originally assumed. And with all the water around here, the Vikings were probably experienced with searching for survivors of shipwrecks. But he shook his head. "No, the ship's GPS would have stayed online even of the power went down. They would have known exactly where the ship was, even below the water. And they can cover the ocean looking for survivors - or bodies - extremely fast. It just doesn't make sense."

Gobber shrugged. "Well, yer here now, and if they come get you then you can ask 'em yerself. Now eat yer taters, boy!"

Tony sighed. Gobber was right. There was nothing he could do now, and until be got back to America there was no way to find out what could have made The Seeker go down, and what kept rescuers from finding Tony. So he ate his food, and the rest of the meal passed uneventfully, with Gobber chatting away about his weapons and the dragons. And laughing at the look on Tony's face when he took a bite of the lettuce only to realize it was actually cabbage.

Once they had finished eating, they left the Great Hall and Gobber pointed Tony towards a path that went back the way they came and told Tony to follow it until he reached Stoick's house. Apparently, he would have to actually find it on his own. The Vikings definitely are not the kind of people to hold your hand through problems. Luckily, it was a straight path to the Chief's home, and Tony found it without much trouble. By the time Tony got inside, Stoick was already there. He sat by the fire, holding a block of melting ice against his temple and gripping a large mug. Tony hesitated, unsure if he should just go up his loft room, or if he should say something. But before he could make up his mind, the Viking Chief glanced up.

"I heard yer working in the forge with Gobber now."

Word gets around fast for a place without Twitter. Is this what it's like to live in a small town? "Yep, figured I should put my engineering skills to work. Blacksmithing is a lot more basic but hey you work with what you've got."

Stoick nodded. "It's a good trade, and might help you strengthen up. And it will give you somewhere to work during the raids that's out of the line of fire."

Tony took a deep breath at the opening, and decided there was no time like the present to set this straight. "Yeah, about the dragons..."

Stoick's eyes narrowed. Bad sign. "Yes?"

"Americans used to have the same problems with them you know. We were capturing them for study, and they were attacking to try to save the captured dragons. We think they have a really complex social structure that gets fucked up when some are taken, which is why they were trying to save the dragons in captivity. They killed hundreds of people, and would always vanish right after an attack. No one knew where they came from."

Stoick's face had remained flat and emotionless during Tony's slightly rambled speech. He only said, "Used to?"

Tony nodded, fast. "Yeah, it took a long time because people were pissed about the dragons attacking, but eventually it was made illegal to capture or kill dragons. All the captured dragons were released, and the attacks stopped, just like that. We still see them sometimes flying over, but they stay really high up and never land by people. They don't bother us anymore."

Stoick's face still revealed nothing, and it was making Tony nervous. It was like when Tony was rambling and Howard was losing patience with him.

Slowly Stoick said, "And what does that have to do with Berk's dragons?"

Tony blinked at him, his chest starting to feel tight with anxiety. "Well, you guys can do the same. Next time the dragons come, don't fight with them. Stay inside, and rebuild once they're gone. It's nothing you haven't done before. Get rid of the dead dragon heads, and stop killing them. Then they'll leave you alone."

Now Stoick's face changed. But not like Tony had hoped. His face darkened with rage, and his hand tightened around the mug he gripped. He slammed the block of ice he held onto the table next to him. "We will not stand idly by as dragons burn our village and slaughter our families! We will fight and drive them away or die trying! We are Vikings, and we will not cower with fear and allow the dragons to conquer us! You are an outsider boy, a guest of Berk, and you'd do best to watch your tongue!"

Tony's teeth and snapped together at Stoick's shout, and all his instincts told him to let it go, and get away from Stoick before his temper boiled over. Howard had blown up at Tony plenty of times, and if it got to the point of shouting there was usually no way out of leaving the scene without a bloodied nose. But Stoick hadn't made a violent move yet, and Tony had to try. "This isn't about winning or losing! They're animals! They don't think like that! If you stop killing them, they'll stop attacking! This isn't - "

Tony was cut off when Stoick threw his mug to the ground and lunged to his feet. "ENOUGH! The dragons aren't some troublesome wolves, they're the most dangerous animals on the planet and they're killers! They've been killing us for three hundred years! I've given funerals to pregnant women, old blind men, children! They killed my wife! They kill mercilessly, and they don't do it to protect each other, or whatever yer thinking! They steal food, and fight among themselves for it! They have no honor, they don't care about anything but their next meal!"

Tony had automatically stepped back when Stoick lept from his chair, and the tight feeling in his chest spread to his whole body. "But-"

"No! You are not one of us boy, and you don't get to argue about -"

Stoick took a step towards Tony, and his huge hands closed into tight fists. Tony didn't think. He jerked back hard, head ducking and shoulders hunching, eyes closed, as he waited for the blow. It didn't come. There were a couple of seconds where everything was frozen, the only sound was the fire crackling. Tony cautiously glanced up. Stoick was standing right where he had been, and his fists had opened and hung at his sides. There was an unreadable expression on his face. Tony quickly glanced away again, suddenly humiliated.

"Uh, okay, um, you do you then. Night!" He fled up the stairs to the loft. Thankfully, Stoick didn't follow him. Tony sat on the edge of his bed, frozen, and listened to Stoick move around downstairs. A few seconds passed before the man moved at all, then Tony heard him cleaning up his spilled drink and dispose of what must have been the block of ice. Then the candles were put out, and the only light was the flickering fireplace. Stoick's heavy footsteps carried him to his room on the ground floor, and a door closed. The fireplace was the only sound in the house. Tony took a deep breath. So, Stoick hadn't lashed out physically when antagonized. That was a good sign that maybe Tony wouldn't get killed for saying the wrong thing. On the downside, he just cowered like a beaten dog in front of a Viking Chief, which is more than a little humiliating. But there was nothing he could do about it now, and it should be easy to avoid Stoick in the morning. Hopefully he would forget about it during the day. Tony moved from his bed to desk, and fought with the flint rocks again. He had forgotten to make matches. Normally he would go light them in the fire again, but he didn't want to risk going back downstairs and possibly bumping into Stoick. It took him nearly twenty minutes, but he managed to light one of the candles. Victorious, he used that one to light another candle so the whole room was washed in dim, flickering candlelight.

He grabbed his stick from the morning and burned it again to make sure he had plenty of charcoal to work with. Then he opened his journal and recorded the accomplishments of the day, and observations. He had decided to tackle this as a scientific project, and try to think of things as steps. He recorded behaviors of Vikings he had noticed, everything from Gobber laughing at Tony's remark about his leg, to the confrontation with Stoick. If he could keep track their reactions, hopefully he could predict future behaviors and have a better idea of how to handle the Vikings. He sighed, and set the stick-pencil down. Getting home wasn't looking good. The only materials he had noticed in the forge had been iron, with no copper or rubber, or anything else he would need to make the circuitry and wiring. He was hoping maybe they had just been stored in another part of the forge - he never looked in the room with the closed door - but he also hadn't seen anything made from anything other than wood or metal. But he would have to do a thorough search of the forge once Gobber trusts him enough to leave him alone there. He didn't have a choice. Until he had exhausted every possibility, he had to keep trying. With that in mind, Tony pulled the herbalist book Gothi had given him closer, and flipped back to the page he had been working on. He was making progress, and already had a rough understanding of a few of the symbols. He knew he needed to be able to read, and try to find more information in whatever books the Vikings had. If there was anything Tony was sure of, it was that knowledge was power, and here he would need all the power he could get.