Astrid's favorite axe slammed into the tree, with more than enough force to kill a man. The blade of the weapon lodged several inches into the wood, but not nearly deep enough to sedate her anger. The enraged Shield-Maiden would spend endless hours at this exact tree, hurling her axe at it as a form of release. Usually it did the job, leaving her too tired to think about what was wrong or upsetting her.

But this wasn't one of those times. No amount of throwing would calm her today.

Astrid had searched the entire forest for any traces of the Night Fury and its rider, praying that they hadn't left Berk. To her grief, not a trace of the duo was found. It had been several hours since her discovery of who really killed Hiccup, and she had yet to work up the courage to talk to Stoick about it. She was mortified about the boy's death, but her sadness was nothing in comparison to the red-haired chief. Stoick hadn't left the grove, and had only spoken to Gobber since then. Astrid knew his reaction would be one of hatred and fury, she thought he might even put off the nest-hunts, and start sending ships out looking for the rider.

The teenager ran up to her axe and wrenched it from the scarred tree, nearly popping her shoulder out in the process. Astrid couldn't care less about the pain; she turned and dropped into a forward-tumble, before turning back to the tree and launching her axe once again. The shield-maiden's clothes were now drenched in sweat, and her classic head band had fallen off hours ago, leaving her hair in a sticky yellow mess. She ignored how awful she must have looked, and continued to push her body to the limit. As much as the girl was trying to release her anger, she was also using this opportunity to train. Astrid had the odd feeling in her gut that the rider would return. She didn't know if it would be days, months, or even years.

Astrid knew the man would be back, and when he returned, she would be ready for him.

o~0~O~0~o

Katla bit her lip and breathed deeply, readying herself to tell the elders of what had happened on the hunt. The thought of loosing most her crew mates still burned in the back of her throat, especially after knowing it was partly her fault. The girl couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if she hadn't used the rope to catch the Skrill, perhaps they would have killed it another way, or perhaps they would've been killed. Two men and a woman entered the small room and faced her with unreadable expressions.

The people in front of her were known as the council: a series of judges who controlled the day-to-day jobs of Helgafjall. These people were second on the social ladder, only behind the elders seen in Fjalar's questioning. The men and woman took their seats in front of Katla, eyeing the chair behind her and implying that they wanted her to sit. The teenager had a high reputation in the village, being praised by the adults and loathed by those her own age.

"Before we begin, we'd like to make clear that this is not an interrogation, and you will not be punished for any wrong actions. We simply wish to know what happened with the Skrill and any more information on Fjalar" The woman spoke, her voice strong with authority and confidence, yet carrying a hint of kindness. It took all of Katla's composure to not question her; luckily she managed to hold her tongue and slowly nod in acknowledgement.

"I understand. What you want to know about Fjalar?" she replied, relieved that she could put in a good word for him.

"If he can be trusted, he seems like a nice boy, but he still has Viking origins. And let's not forget the Dragon he has following him around everywhere, we still don't know much about it" one of the men stated, "We want to know as much about him as possible, and you two seem close" Katla could feel herself blush slightly, remembering how close they'd come to kissing that morning.

"O-Okay, well firstly I think you can trust him. He's had far too many opportunities to attack us if he wanted to. And lets not forget his Dragon is a Night Fury; they could have broken out of prison easily, but chose not to. He's determined to show us he isn't here to hurt us" The people in front of her nodded, seeming to agree with her.

"You have a point. Trjonn spoke to us earlier, and mentioned something about him 'showing us the truth about Dragons'. What do you know about that?"

"He plans to end the war between people and Dragons, and not by killing one side. He wants to show the world that the beasts are simply misunderstood, and attack us because they think we're a threat" she explained, "he plans to start with Helgafjall, by helping us deal with the Skrill attacks" the council seemed shocked at the news.

"How does he plan to stop the Skrill? We've tried for generations and failed every time" the woman raised an eyebrow, leaning forward and displaying a clear interest in the matter.

"He thinks he can tame it, and I believe him. If he can make friends with Toothless I doubt he'll have any trouble" she grinned, remembering the Night Fury's goofy smile.

"Toothless? That's the name of the Night Fury?" the other man asked incredulously, before receiving a nod from Katla.

"Sure is. I guess that's enough proof of how harmless he can be" she chuckled, "look, he hasn't told me much else that you don't know of. He left his tribe after a life of abuse, and he's keen to prove he isn't 'Hiccup the Useless', as he was called back home. I trust him and have faith in him, I think you should too" The three elders seemed to believe her once again, having spend years asking questions to liars.

"That will be all, Katla. If the boy wishes to prove himself more than a guest, I'm sure we could find him some work. You may leave and continue to show Fjalar around"

"Oh, I thought you wanted to know more about the Skrill?" she questioned,

"You need not worry, Trjonn gave us an exact report and we'll be questioning Sven in a moment's time. You've given us more than enough information" the woman said reassuringly. Katla nodded once again, thanking the people and briskly leaving the room. She was anxious to return to Fjalar, worried some teenage girls would find him before she did. Unlike Vikings, speed and agility were favored against brute force, making thin and tall men more attractive there. As well as that, he was a mysterious outsider who just happened to ride the most dangerous Dragon ever known. All of this made the already-famous boy even more desirable in the eyes of women.

And she wasn't ready to leave her new crush without a fight.

o~0~O~0~o

"Can I help you?" A burly man stood with his back to the front door of his store, too busy with his piece of metal to turn and greet the unknown person who had entered. The man had worked at his forge all morning, and was too exhausted to barter with customers, even if it resulted in a few silver coins.

"Uh, no not really, just having a look around, that's all" the man paused when he noticed the person's accent. It was clearly foreign, heavier than the flowing dialect known in Helgafjall. He slowly put down the red-hot iron and turned to face the voice, his suspicions being confirmed. At the entrance of his shop stood a thin-looking boy with piercing green eyes and long auburn hair. None of that so much as crossed the smith's mind; his attention remained solely on the huge Dragon sitting comfortably behind him.

"You're that Dragon Rider- Fjalar, right?" he asked, not sure whether to be nervous or excited. The man had seen a lot of things in his life, a lot of which he wished he hadn't seen. Despite all of that, nothing could have prepared him for the Night Fury, with its muscular body, cat-like eyes and obsidian scales that were darker than night itself.

"I guess so, yeah. I was just interested in your forge, I was an apprentice back where I came from" the boy replied, stepping in and inspecting the many weapons mounted on the walls. "Sorry if this all seems a little random, I'm new here" he chuckled nervously, picking up a weapon and closely examining the metalwork. "I must admit, this equipment is very impressive. I've never seen iron molded quite like this. My old home had a very different way, not sure how it performs against this"

"By all means, if you wanna help, grab a spare apron and get sharpening" he rolled his eyes, returning to his work. The smith had expected the boy to be more… Viking-Like, but instead he was quiet, polite and rather small.

"I wouldn't mind that actually" he said, surprising the man. "Don't want my skills going to waste, now do I?" Fjalar rested the weapon back on the wall, before turning to face the smith with a smile.

"It was just a joke lad. I've got this handled, and I'm sure your Dragon won't want to stay and grow bored" he brushed the boy off politely. The smith knew he needed help, but he didn't want to hold down the boy when he clearly had more important things to do.

"Well if you insist" Fjalar wanted to argue with him, but he didn't want to seem desperate. The teenager was determined to repay Helgafjall for allowing him to stay here. "Come find me if you need an extra pair of hands" Eventually the ex-Viking left the neatly kept smithy, waving awkwardly at the man as he left.

'What an odd little kid' the man shook his head and grinned, liking him for some unknown reason.

Fjalar re-emerged from the dark store and let the afternoon sun soak back into his pale skin. After several hours of aimlessly walking around the city, people had grown more and more used to the Night Fury which tailed him. Most of the townsfolk had already met Toothless, and no longer offered him free fish and endless back rubs; the most he got was the odd pat on the head and a cheerful greeting, which was excellent news to both of them. Fjalar was never a person for fame and glory; he hated the endless praise he received back on Berk. Not only that, but Toothless had eaten so much fish he could hardly walk.

"Bud, where'd you go off to?" Fjalar asked aloud, staring up above to see if he'd climbed on the roof again. A delighted warble caught the boy's attention, coming from the alleyway down beside shop. He walked several paces to find his Dragon surrounded by three girls, who were both tickling Toothless under his now bloated gut.

"He's amazing," one sniggered, "I want one right now"

"You and me both, he's like an overgrown cat!" a second girl laughed. Fjalar leant against the outer wall of the smithy and intentionally coughed, catching the attention of the girls and the Night Fury.

"You having fun over there bud?" he smirked, watching the Dragon lumber past the girls and answering with a satisfied purr.

"I'm too fat to fly. I guess that means we'll have to stay here forever"

"Toothless, I think you've had more than enough fish for today. You look fit to burst!" he grinned, sweeping his long hair out of his eyes and staring up at the girls. "Um… hey there" the boy mentally slapped himself for his gracelessness.

"So you're the mighty Fjalar, hmm?" the girl on the left beamed at him, then gently elbowed her friend next to her.

"Well I don't know about 'mighty', but yeah, my name is Fjalar" the boy nodded, trying to keep his heart rate as the three teens stared at him mischievously.

"He's even cuter up close" the girl in the middle joined in, giggling as Fjalar raised his eyebrows, unsure of how to react.

"Uh, t-thanks..?" he stuttered

"And his accent" the third girl purred, "So thick and strong. I love it…" The ex-Viking's throat ran dry as the three girls walked up to him and ogled him like he was a piece of meat.

'This isn't happening. No, no this couldn't be' Fjalar had always been horrified when it came to talking with girls, especially Astrid, but this was on a whole new level of terror. He repeated the sentence in his head, until a much louder voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Fjalar, there you are!"

Toothless, left his friend's side and ran up to the new person, ecstatic to see her again.

It was Katla, having arrived at the last possible moment.

"Well look who it is! You finish your meeting with the elders?" Fjalar quickly asked the girl as she bent down and hugged the Night Fury around the neck.

"It finished two hours ago, I've been busy looking for you in this mess of a place!" she laughed, standing up and facing him. "C'mon, I've still got so much to show you-"

"Um, sorry sister, but if you can't already tell, he's busy talking with us" the middle girl caught Katla's attention, both of them staring daggers at each other.

"Well, if it isn't Anne, Catrine and Lene" she raised an eyebrow, almost seeming amused. "I'd ask why you three are in this back alley, but I can't say that I'm surprised to see you here"

"Yeah, well what's it to you?" the Lene shot back, "we were just talking to our new friend here, Fjalar"

"You three can finish stalking him later" Katla growled, taking his hand. "But I've been ordered by the elders themselves to give him a private tour of the town" she yanked Fjalar's hand before Lene could reply, pulling him out of the alleyway and dragging him until they were out of view.

"Well that was- hey, you can stop that now!" he yelped in pain as the black-haired girl finally let go of him, scrunching her eyes tightly shut and taking several deep breaths. "You mind telling me what happened back there?"

"Sorry about that" she grumbled, "those girls are trouble, you don't want to be around them"

"Why? I mean they didn't do anything wrong…" Katla's eyes met his, giving him a 'oh really?' look. "All right all right, I'll admit they were a little… forward with me"

"Can we just forget that ever happened? They frustrate me beyond belief" she said

"They didn't seem too fond of you as well" he raised an eyebrow; "you and them have a history or something?"

"Nobody our age likes me" she hissed, "so no, that's just how everyone treats me" Fjalar stopped walking alongside her and stared at her motionless.

"Now wait just a minute there. Why the Hel would the people our age not like you? I mean…" he struggled to find the words, "-just look at you!" Katla was only ever complimented by adults, so to have somebody her age say that felt incredible.

"Thanks Fjalar," she could feel her face turn red and couldn't help but smile. "I'm afraid it's more than that. All the teenagers here, they're… jealous" the boy didn't know what had happened, but judging her facial expression it was clear that it had struck a nerve of some sort. Katla walked off the pathway and sat on a small bench, burying her face into her hands. "And it's not what you're thinking. I don't expect you to understand what I'm rambling about"

"Yeah, I don't know what you're on about" he stated honestly, before sitting next to her. "But I'd like to" Katla looked up from her hands, staring up the boy's face and feeling a warmth re-enter her body. Fjalar wasn't like the rest of them; he wasn't harsh, cruel and selfish. He was caring, generous and one of the few people who listened to her. Breathing deeply, Katla sat up and began to explain why she'd gotten so emotional.

"I… When my parents were killed, Trjonn took me in as 'the daughter he never had'. The man has three boys, gods above I don't know how he manages" she chuckled slightly, "Trjonn is a fighter like no other, and an amazing teacher. I've never seen someone as gifted him. You can see it in his whole family, his wife became a wonderful archer within months of marrying him, and his boys are incredible with just about any weapon. When he took me in, he began to train me as well, just like his wife and kids. He did it to make me feel more like a part of the family, but mostly because he knew that I needed a release; something to take my mind of the death of my parents" Fjalar nodded in understanding, glad this girl was opening up to him.

"I'm sorry to hear that, Katla. It must have been awful loosing your mom and dad"

"It was. I was so full of anger, and Trjonn's training finally gave me a way to escape. I fueled every last bit of my hatred and emotion into my work with him, and it paid off. By the time I was nine, I could defeat almost all of my 'friends'" she broke into a wide grin, remembering the looks on their faces, "I was pretty damn good. I had earned the respect of the elders, the adults and Trjonn, but never the people my age. They began to despise me, claimed I was a cheater and shouldn't have been taught to fight so well. At age fourteen, I was the youngest person to have ever completed my Gladiators" Fjalar looked at her curiously.

"Your 'Gladiators'?" he asked

"Sorry, forgot you didn't know. The Gladiators are kind of like a 'wright of passage' for our town. It's a brutal training program made to push the body to breaking point and further. It turns boys into men, girls into women. Most of the people who try it fail, and only people above eighteen have a chance of passing"

"And you did it at fourteen" Fjalar smirked, recalling how everyone reacted when he used his 'skills' in Dragon Training, "Trjonn must have been so proud of you"

"He sure was, and I mean it when I say that those were the worst six months of my life" the teenager's happiness seemed to drain away, as her face fell. "But from that day on I've been an outcast to the others. All I ever wanted to be was a success, I just never knew it would come at such a high price" Katla shook her head in misery. "I remember some of the things they said after I passed. Lene told her friends that 'she wished her own parents had died when she was three, so that she could be trained'. A boy called Markus spread a rumor that I killed my own parents, so that Trjonn could raise me instead…" by now she had stopped talking, fought desperately to hold in the tears. She didn't want to cry, not in front of him.

The boy couldn't believe what he was hearing from her. The Vikings of Berk had treated him poorly to say the least, and while Katla's torment lasted a lot shorter, it was so much worse. "They are jealous" she choked out, "they are that jealous my parents were butchered, and of the life I was given afterwards. I would give anything in the world for them to come home, and they think I wanted it to happen" Fjalar knew her pain better than almost anyone else she'd talked to, having been bullied ever since he was five, as well as loosing his mother. He wanted to think she was lying, and that people of such a nice village were capable of things this hurtful. "I'm sorry if this is a lot to think about. We've known each other for hardly a week, yet nobody's listened to me like you do. I felt like you needed to know the truth"

"I… I don't know what to say" Fjalar was utterly speechless. He was shocked that Katla trusted him, after knowing him for only a couple of days. It made him feel needed, it made him feel special.

Something he hadn't felt ever on Berk, even in his last days there.

"I know what it's like to loose a loved one, Katla. My mother died months after I was born. I might not have known her well, but I was told that she was the most amazing woman to have ever lived" he murmured, smiling sadly at the thought of her. "I'm sorry for what they did to you"

"It's okay Fjalar. Y'know these past few days, you and I have spoken more than every other person my age in the past year or two" she summoned a weak smile, "You're the only person my age who I'd call a friend. I hope you now understand why I didn't want those girls around you"

"It's okay Katla, I don't think I want anything to do with them after they said those things to you" he murmured.

"Can we please put this behind us? Emotions aren't exactly my strength" she sniffed, trying to change the subject.

"You and me both" he chuckled, "I came to this town trying to be the 'tough guy', so nobody would pick on me like I was at home. So far my plan isn't exactly going well" Fjalar got up from the seat and took Katla by the hand, pulling her up with him. "C'mon, you wanted to show me something, right?"

"Yeah, I did" her face brightened, "I've gotta show you the training ring, you'll love it!" Fjalar grinned back at the girl, glad to have cheered her up after the burst of emotion. "I've always wanted to see a Viking fight; we should have a friendly spar!" the boy could feel the blood leave his face, as his Dragon made a chortling sound that resembled a laugh. He was going to go up against the town's best fighter, and he could hardly slay a pig without killing himself.

"No pressure, lover boy"

"Yeah… about that"

o~0~O~0~o

Fjalar remembered seeing his father fight for the first time, as if it was yesterday. It was a Dragon raid, when he was only six years old and still coping with the loss of his mother. He recalled peeking out the window to watch his dad slay Dragons in complete awe; it was less of a fight and more of a slaughter. Stoick was taking on a Monstrous Nightmare and two Deadly Nadders at the same time, wounded from the previous kills yet still going strong as Thor himself. The Six-year-old Fjalar gaped at the chief as he rolled clear of one Nadder's spikes, which impaled the Nightmare behind him, before smashing his hammer into the face of the other Nadder.

With two of the three Dragons stunned, he advanced on the Nadder which shot at him, punching it straight in the face and leaping onto its jagged head. Stoick dropped his hammer and with his enormous hands, snapped the two largest spikes clean off the beast's skull. Its squawks of pain were cut short as he drove both spikes into its eyes, killing it instantly. The other two Dragons who watched the scene fled from the huge Viking, knowing what he was capable of in such a short amount of time. Fjalar had never forgotten that raid; he'd always known it as the best fight he'd ever seen.

That raid was nothing compared to what he was watching now.

Fjalar stood in the audience section of Helgafjall fighting arena, a massive structure that made Berk's killing ring look like a stone bath-tub. Katla had explained how this place- like the rest of the town, resembled the greats fighting pits of Constantinople, fit to hold thousands of viewers, eager to watch the bloodshed. Hardly any of that was running through the ex-Viking's mind however, he was too entranced on the fight. Katla, Toothless and he were watching four deadly looking fighters square of against each other in a team battle.

Three fighters, all up against Trjonn

"Huh, gotta give it to the man: he's never been one to slack off. We've been back only a day and he's back in the ring, showin' them how it's done" she mused, smirking as Fjalar gawked at her. The man was equipped with a small axe in each hand, and was wearing no armor whatsoever.

"He's gonna take them all on, at once?" he spluttered, watching as the three men surrounded him in a triangle, each of them wielding deadly weapons. Before Katla could answer his unnecessary question, the person to Trjonn's flank charged without warning. Trjonn reacted instantly, flinging both his axes into the sky and facing his attacker unarmed. The man jabbed a spear at his chest, but was easily parried and disarmed as if it were nothing. With brutal accuracy, Trjonn spun on his front leg and connected his right heel with the man's temple, knocking him out before he hit the ground. With one man out of three down, he turned to face his remaining opponents, who both stared uneasily at their friend who was out cold on the floor. Trjonn barked a short laugh, and without even looking up, caught his two axes and adopted a fighting stance.

"You lads gonna just stand there?" he winked, twirling the weapons in his hands. The two men facing Trjonn shared a nervous glance with each other, and with a shrug of their shoulders, attacked.

Fjalar could hardly believe his eyes. Watching Vikings fight against one-another was quite boring; full of pausing for breath and charging like wild boars. He had expected Trjonn to be a good fighter, but he'd never expected him to be this good. Trjonn held his ground as the two people lunged at him, meeting every one of their rapid strikes with the blades of his axes. After several moments of attempting to break his defenses, the duo pulled away. The man hadn't even been scratched, and the barrage of failed swings and slashes had left the two attackers panting from exhaustion.

"I guess it's my turn now" Trjonn struck before they could raise their weapons, throwing both his axes and knocking the weapons out of their hands. One of the men quickly ran up to meet him, his front shoulder hunkering down as he prepared to tackle him. Trjonn lowered his body to the floor, outstretching his right leg and sweeping the man off his feet with surprising grace. With a heavy grunt, the second man landed on the ground, and before he could even get up, his third teammate was down for the count.

"Yield! I Yield, Trjonn" he blurted out frantically, admitting defeat and not wanting to share the same fate as his friends. With a smile, Trjonn offered out his hand and hoisted the man back onto his feet, patting him on the shoulder while doing so.

"Your strikes are very fast, Gaudi, and there's plenty of power in those arms of yours" he complimented, "one thing you need to work on, however, is how you use that power. Tackling your opponent could work, but there are far better options available"

"Okay, I'll keep that in mind" he nodded back at him, "thanks for the fight, remind me not to doubt you next time"

"I sure will. Make sure those two get some ice for their bruises" he chuckled, picking up his weapons and leaving the arena. Katla felt an immense pride as she stared at Fjalar's face of awe, glad to have impressed him with Trjonn's fighting skills.

"So what do you think? Can Vikings fight like that?" she smirked, being answered with only a wordless head shake.

"I… How…" he struggled to comprehend what he'd seen. Trjonn's fighting was nothing short of stunning. He'd taken down three vicious looking men in a heartbeat, while making it look easy. "Odin's ghost, how the Hel did he do that?" he managed to breathe out.

"He's one of Helgafjall's best, when it comes to combat and tactics. That's why he leads our Skrill hunts" Katla replied.

Fjalar let his thoughts run wild, as he pictured what he could do if he fought half as well as Trjonn did. He'd be able to travel the world, and not have to depend on Toothless for defense and hunting. He could even return to Berk, not as a timid little boy, but as a lean and fierce warrior.

He could beat Snotlout in combat; pummel him into the ground for all those years of mistreatment.

He could beat Astrid; show her how much he's changed. The look on her face would be to die for.

"What would it take to be trained by a man like him?" he asked, desperate to know if his dreams could become reality.

"Trjonn is very picky about who he trains. So don't get those hopes up" she chuckled, "He has a big family to raise, and training taking up such a large part of his day means he has to charge quite a lot" the boy's fantasy seemed to suck away from his thoughts, leaving him feeling glum. Fjalar had very little possessions to offer, anything he had of value was very important to him.

"So what, I'd give him a sheep or two and he'd train me for a week?" he joked half-heartedly

"Nah, he only takes gold and silver" she shook her head. "Either that or you can service trade"

"Huh? What's a 'service trade'?" he raised an eyebrow

"Ugh, how do I explain this…?" she trailed off into silence, until the thought reached her. "Well let's say I was a good seamstress, I could work in the clothes store. Instead of asking for money in return, I could ask to be trained. The people, who are meant to pay you, pay the trainer instead. We've done it for quite some time"

"Oh okay, that makes sense" he mused. The idea was far more promising than trading gold and silver, yet still didn't look good for him.

'What could I do for the town in return?' he thought to himself.

The idea hit him. Fjalar's eyes widened in shock,

"Katla, where am I sleeping tonight?" he blurted out

"Oh, there's a guest room in my house. It's where your gear is at the moment" she answered "something wrong? Fjalar I know that look when I see it, are you gonna do something crazy?"

"Maybe" the boy turned away from the training ring, grinning wildly as his mad plan unfolded itself in his head. "Probably" he quickly corrected himself. "Katla, I'll be back at your place in a few hours. Sorry if this seems a little strange. Toothless, stay with her and keep out of trouble, I'll be back soon bud" The Night Fury had only just woken up from a short nap, and grunted curiously at his friend, who was now making his way out of the audience stands.

"Hiccup, please don't do anything crazy"

"I know, don't worry I'll be fine" he yelled back,

"Fjalar shouldn't I come with you? And what about Toothless? What about our friendly fight?" Katla asked, "It's dark and you could get lost. Plus I don't want you messing up and getting kicked out of here"

"I'll be fine, I promise. Just take care of my friend and I'll explain everything later!" he broke into a run and vanished around the corner, leaving the girl and Dragon to themselves. Fjalar hoped he could trust the girl with him; she seemed to be very honest so far.

"Should I go after him?" Katla casually asked Toothless, "I hope for your sake he knows what he's doing. I'm meant to be watching over him" The Night Fury snorted back at her, rolling his eyes and curling back up to sleep. "So this is that 'Viking stubbornness' I've heard so much about"

"Good luck finding him. He's a runner. And for the record I can take care of myself"

Fjalar knew what he was about to do was bogus, completely insane and very risky. He'd even left his Night Fury- his best friend and most trusted companion- in the hands of someone he hardly knew. The boy weaved through the thin alleyways and streets, remembering the exact rout he'd taken to get to the arena that afternoon. Fjalar had even shocked himself when he left Toothless, but he knew that dragging him along could land them in even more trouble, and greatly increase his chances of failure.

'I have to try' the voice in his head repeated, as he kept on running, not once looking back.

Katla tried to search for Fjalar that night, but the boy seemed to have vanished from sight. Not only that, but Toothless refused to move from his spot, and Katla was in no position to argue with a Night Fury.

Within several hours of persuading- borderline begging- she'd convinced the beast to come to her house, where she could both watch over him, and wait for Fjalar to return. The girl admitted that she was a tad frustrated with Fjalar, for simply leaving her like that. She was anxious for an explanation as to what he was doing, and why he seemed to trust her with a Night Fury.

Katla had flushed slightly at the thought. The boy trusted her with his best friend's well being. She would have only done that to someone she liked a lot, and he did it to her with almost no hesitation.

She continued to think about herself and the mysterious guy, right up until she fell asleep.

o~0~O~0~o

The deafening sound of a fist against wood was what tore Fjalar from his slumber. It was nearly midday, and he had spent over eight hours conjuring up his 'master plan' which would get him training by Trjonn. The exhausted boy now lay flat on his face, sprawled out on an unmade bed like Toothless after a night of neck-rubs. Instead of working for a few hours on his idea, he'd continued up until sunrise, and had snuck himself into the guest room of Katla's house when he was finally finished, not wanting to wake her or anyone else.

"Fjalar, are you in there?" a voice yelled out, accompanied by more knocking.

"Ugf… Yeah I'm here…" he called out, "just a few more minutes… please-" Fjalar was interrupted by the door opening, and Katla stepping inside.

"Do you have any idea how long I was outside waiting for you, last night?" she asked, trying to sound angry and not laugh at the hilarious position she found him in.

"I'm sorry Katla; I got…" he yawned loudly, not bothering to lift his face from the pillow. "…Got a little carried away last night. Toothless seemed happy when I came here. Thank you for looking after him after I ran away" Fjalar finally rolled onto his back and got up from the bed he sat on, his long rusty hair all over the place like a bird's nest atop his head. "I hope I didn't wake you trying to get in here"

"I thought I heard someone on my roof around sunrise" she shook her head, suppressing another laugh. "Y'know, you could have knocked and I would have let you inside. You didn't have to be all quiet about it"

"I didn't want to disturb you" he grunted, "I kept you waiting for me to return, and I wanted you to sleep"

"How did you even know where my house was?" she put her hands on her hips. "I don't remember showing you it"

"Yeah, but not every house has a Night Fury snoring on it" he grinned sheepishly, "This is your house, right?" Katla rolled here eyes and returned the smile.

"So, you gonna tell me what you did last night? I think you owe me an explanation"

"Okay, well I might have broken into some guy's forge" he tried to sound as casual as possible, knowing his actions could have serious consequences.

"You did what?" she spluttered, "You mean Bardi's Forge, the one I found you outside yesterday?"

"Yeah that one" he nodded, "You told me about 'service trade' yesterday, and it gave me a wild idea. So I ran over to his forge, crafted up something and left it for him. If he likes it, I might just be able to train with Trjonn and learn to fight, in return for working with him"

"Why couldn't you have told me about this before you left?"

"I didn't want you to follow me and get into trouble if It went badly" he responded,

"Gods above Fjalar, I was so worried about what you were gonna do" she lightly punched the boy on the shoulder. "What did you make?"

"A sword, nothing too major" Fjalar said, before receiving another one of Katla's 'oh really?' stares.

"You spend eight hours on a sword, and it's 'nothing major'?"

"I wanted to make sure it looked good, okay?" he raised his hands defensively, "Plus I had to do everything slowly, not wanting to wake any early-sleepers"

"Yeah, how very considerate of you" she rolled her eyes, "Anyways, I wondering if you wanted to grab something to eat, y'know down at the hall. There's like lots of food for you to try, I'm sure you're hungry and all" she couldn't help but notice her own stutter.

'I've fought men twice my size, and lived alone for three years. Here I am, nervous about asking out a boy to a meal!' she silently cursed to herself. Fjalar didn't seem to notice her tone, or slight blush.

"Yeah sure, I'm starving!"

o~0~O~0~o

Fjalar was stunned at the Great Hall he stood in. The boy had only been in the room once, during his trial, and since then it had been outfitted to feed all of Helgafjall. Back on Berk, the only food offered for Dagmal was bread and broth: an awful mix of yak meat and vegetables, which the Vikings loved unbeknownst to him. Due to Fjalar's size, he was never given a large potion, preventing him from growing much larger than he all ready was.

"Smells good, huh?" Katla could see the boy's shock from a mile away, as he ogled the dozens of trays of food available to them. "We have an abundance of food here, and we like to make sure everybody is well fed"

"You could add up all the food from my old home, and it wouldn't come close to this meal alone" he breathed, walking over to where people were serving the food. "What the Hel even are these things" he pointed to a platter of sizzling meat, mouth watering in anticipation, "Oh my Thor, it smells beautiful"

After Fjalar was done staring, he stacked up his plate with a mountain of food, and sat himself next to Katla in the hall.

"So I take it you've never eaten this kind of food?" she watched him dig into his gigantic meal, surprised about how such a thin boy could manage it.

"Nah, nothing comes close to this" his mouth was crammed full of chicken and potatoes, "It's so good!"

"I can tell you like it" she commented, "Like I said earlier, the Skrill that attacks us, it steals no food and only goes after the townsfolk-"

"Hey, Fjalar! Over here!"

Katla and her friend turned heads to look at a table several yards away, which half a dozen teenagers sat on. The people there waved at him, and gestured for him to come over.

"Don't sit with that girl, come sit with us!" One girl spoke out, patting a free space on the chair next to her. Fjalar recognized her from the day before, as Anne. The teenager cast a glance at Katla, who wore a face of both misery and resentment.

"You can sit with them, I guess. It would suck to have them pick on you, like me" she turned back to her food, eloping in quiet. A sudden chill ran down Fjalar's spine, as he finally understood what was happening.

He had become popular, and Katla was the outcast.

Katla wasn't like the others, she had something they didn't. Her fighting skills had outclassed anyone else of her age, and for that she was hated. They saw her as a nuisance, a pest and a hindrance, only because she was considered different.

She was the Helgafjall version of Hiccup.

Fjalar had finally witnessed his life from someone else's point of view, and he was sickened by it. He was liked by the other teenagers, and was not going to join their tormenting of her.

"No, I'm fine thank you. I'll stay here" he called out, returning to eat before any of them could answer. He spoke to Katla, his voice low enough that only she could hear "I was a victim, back where I came from; I told you and your entire town. If those people think I'm going to join their bullying of you, they're wrong."

Katla opened her mouth to thank him, but the sound of the hall doors opening caught her attention. Bardi- the forge master, walked in the hall, brandishing a large sword and yelling maniacally.

"Where is Fjalar?!"

Chatter in the hall ceased and looks of curiosity fell on the boy. The smith was well known for keeping his temper under control, and seeing him react like this was a good sign that something was out of the ordinary. One of the elders at the head of a large table stood up, and addressed the man.

"Bardi is something wrong?" his eyes turned to Fjalar, who seemed far less confident about his plan then he did a minute ago. "Did our guest do something?"

"I hope this is all part of your plan" she whispered, as Fjalar stood up and faced Bardi.

"S-So, did you… like it?" he stuttered, noticing the weapon he was wielding was the very one he made that night.

'I knew this was a bad idea. Now I'm going to be killed by my own sword, isn't that great' he thought.

"Fjalar, what. Did. You. Do." The room was now deathly silent, as the elder glared at him. He was considered to be their guest, and his title could just as easily be revoked if he were to misbehave.

"That boy broke into my forge last night, while I was sleeping" he answered, looking not nearly as angry as expected. "I didn't see him, but it couldn't have been anyone else" a smile crossed Bardi's face, not out of wicked glee- like he was going to enjoy punishing Fjalar, but a smile of pride.

"I-I wanted to p-prove myself that I could work for you?" he trembled, holding his hands behind his back, so that they couldn't see how badly he was shaking.

He didn't expect Bardi to laugh, however.

"My boy, you've more than proven yourself!" he chortled, holding out the sword and letting the elders see it, "this is a work of art!" Fjalar could've sworn that he wet his pants with relief. He actually liked it, the plan worked. The elders gave the sword to one of the onlookers, letting them pass it around and marvel at his creation. The weapon he'd made was engraved with runes, and had a handmade hilt which resembled a Dragon with outstretched wings.

"So you want to work for me? Tell ya what, if you can make more of those, you're bloody hired" Bardi said.

"If you wanted to work for him so badly, why didn't you simply ask him for a job?" someone asked

"I did, yesterday. He made it clear that he was fine on his own" Fjalar answered, "I decided to show him what I was capable of. I was an apprentice back home, and I don't want my skills going unused"

"That's why you wanted to work for him? Because you didn't want your skills to go to waste?" the elder raised an eyebrow.

"Partly, I-I wanted to make a trade for my work at the forge"

"What kind of trade are you thinking?"

Fjalar scanned the crowd of people who'd been watching the scene unfold. His eye caught on what he was looking for, right at the back of the hall, stood Trjonn. A tiny smile spread across the man's lips, having a good idea of what he was going to say.

"A service trade. I wanna learn to fight like you guys"

PLEASE READ

Sorry if this wasn't the most action-packed of chapters- although it was the largest yet! (8100 words), this was mostly a set-up for the next part of the story! Several big changes are going to take place next chapter, and I feel like I should let you know!

LIGHT SPOILER ALERT, READ IF YOU DARE

1) Chapter 8 will be set 9 MONTHS after the events of this part, and Fjalar will be a very different person. He will be an excellent fighter and be best friends with Katla. His personality will be far more outgoing and confident, making him slightly OOC. He'll also be sixteen, with Katla's birthday several weeks away.

2) Katla and Fjalar will not be officially a couple, but many of the Helgafjall townsfolk will suspect something is happening between the two. They are both attracted to each other, but are both too shy to talk about it.

3) I've got the full storyline planned out. I plan on making this plot unlike any other novel out there, with a mix of the first and second movie characters (as for who those characters are, you'll have to wait n' see!). I've searched tirelessly, and haven't found a single Fanfic which comes close to what I'm planning, so be excited!

4) Speaking of characters, Valka will NOT be featured in this story, although there may be references to her at one point of more. Secondly, this is NOT A HICCSTRID, I'm sorry all HiccupXAstrid diehard fans!

Yeah, that's about it! Remember to stay tuned for the next chapter; I plan on making it the best one yet! Feel free to review; any constructive criticism is greatly appreciated! See y'all in two weeks.

Peace! :-)