Camicazi sat dejectedly in her house, listening to her mother rave about her new mace. To hear her speak you'd think Hiccup had descended from Asgard to forge her weapons. She blew out a sigh, not realising her mother had caught it.
'What's got you so down? Didn't you get a new weapon today?' She asked, a touch of motherly concern showing.
'No, I did.' Cami drew her sword and passed it to her mother, whose eyes bulged upon seeing it. She inspected every inch of it, from the heron on the pommel to the triskelions etched into the blade.
'Then what's wrong? This is easily the best sword I've ever seen. The detail, the balance... It's near perfect'
'It's not the sword mother, it's just that I challenged him to a sparring match to test it out'
Cami sighed again and seemed to slump. The chief looked a little worried, Cami was easily the best swordswoman in the tribe.
'You didn't… you didn't injure him did you?' She asked finally.
'That's just it! I couldn't come close! No matter what I did, however hard I fought, I couldn't even get near to scoring a hit. How did he get that good? I tried every trick I could, and I still spent more time on my back than ever before! It's almost scary.'
Her mother gave a throaty chuckle and put her arm around her despondent daughter.
'Well my child, If he is as good as you say, then there really is no shame in losing. If you really want to find out his secret, I suggest you spend some more time on your back' she said with a grin and a wink.
'Mum!'
'What? You two are already close friends, and any child from the two of you would be a blessing to the tribe. The closer we can bind him to us the happier I'll be.'
Cami shrugged off her mother's arm and turned to face her, trembling slightly.
'Have you ever spoken to him mother? I mean really spoken to him, not as chief to forger?' 'Something bad happened to him while he was travelling, something awful. He won't talk about it, says it's too painful.'
She paused, drawing breath and looking worried and pensive.
'I've already tried mother. Do you remember when he and I went flying with Veil and Toothless for the first time? When we stopped to watch the sunset I thought it would be the perfect chance. Before I leaned in, I noticed him stroking a necklace. It was obviously a woman's, though I've never seen a design like it before. When I asked him, he just seemed to seize up. All he'd say was that it belonged to someone he'd failed.'
She seemed to collect herself for a moment then looked her mother and chief in the eye and seemed to make a decision.
'I won't pursue him, and I suggest you ask the others not to. It is more likely to make him leave than to get him to stay. I don't think we can afford to lose him now, do you?'
Bertha drew herself up and looked at her child with a beady eye. She was damn proud of the girl, she'd done the right thing so far and she did have a point. Hiccup was too great an asset to lose.
'If that is your honest assessment, I'll put it out that he is not to be pursued. We can't afford to throw him away like those foolish Hooligans did.'
As Camicazi turned to leave, Bertha coughed to get her attention once more, proffering the sword she still held. As her daughter left, presumably to fly with that overgrown lizard of hers, her thoughts returned to the sword. It had been many years since she had seen a heron marked blade…
Fishlegs was terrified. This was worse than the battlefield. Far worse. He had to speak to the council and convince them to listen to him. If they didn't... well, it was the end of Berk. With that, he squared his shoulders and stood up to speak.
'ENOUGH'
The council grew silent, mostly out of shock. The temerity of the lad, quieting them! As Spitelout rose to begin shouting, Fishlegs spoke out again.
'Yell at me later, this is too important. If you don't listen to me, Berk is doomed. We've all noticed the raids are coming more often and hitting us harder'
'I've been looking at the numbers. I know, not very Viking, but very important. Two months ago, we had three raids. Last month it was a raid a week. At the moment we're facing almost 2 raids a week. If this carries on, next month will be a raid every other night.'
He paused, letting his stark words sink in. Before anyone recovered, he started speaking once more.
'If we carry on like we are, we won't make it to the end of next month, we haven't got the supplies. However, I'm not here to tell you were doomed. I'm here because I have a plan.'
He paused again, taking a deep breath and leaning his hands on the table.
'I can tell you when the raids are going to be. I've done the maths, and I've been right the last 19 out of 20 times. I might not always get it right, but it's a damn sight better than what we do now. Knowing when they're coming will give us an advantage, and we need every edge we can get.'
He sank back into his seat, shaking slightly. Stoick was the first to speak.
'Thank you Fishlegs. It may not have been what some of us wanted to hear,' he gazed pointedly at Spitelout, 'But I think it was something we needed to hear. If you can really predict the raids you'll be saving lives. Go on, off you go. The council will need to discuss this, and how we can use it in more depth.'
