Disclaimer: Dream Works and Cressida Cowell own the How to Train Your Dragon franchise.

I ran, yet I was not afraid.

I did not fear my father. No, I knew better. I knew what my father was really like, what he really thought. This Nightmare wasn't him. No, he was trapped somewhere in there and I had to get him out.

Staying ahead of my father was probably the most athletic and tiring thing I ever did, above and beyond anything else I did a few months ago, and that was including all the other times I had run for my life. It's funny how much I've had to run away. Pretty much all of my enemies were the type that I couldn't stand up and face in an even fight and I had no real choice in the matter but to escape. Now though, I was not running to save my skin, but rather to gain an edge.

My Dad was surprisingly fast, more than you'd think to expect from such a big dragon. His size probably offset the fact that his shape was poorly suited to running or maybe it was part of whatever boost being the King's employ gave him; it didn't matter, all that matter was that I reached my end goal with enough time to get what I wanted.

Unfortunately, my body was tiring out, the stress and fading remnants of healed injuries taking their toll. My body could heal over most any wound, but fatigue was my biggest problem. I couldn't face my father if I couldn't so much as lift my own feet; I had to end this… and soon.

Even more unfortunately, my father was not going to let that be easy for me. He snarled, "You will not escape me." Then, he breathed a cone of flame, this time a sustained torrent that swept back and forth, side to side.

Alarm surged up within me and I had to pull my tail in between my legs as I kept going. The fire barely reached me then, but I suddenly came to understand why other animals only did it in their direst moments. It was so awkward.

My father's flaming breath was intense, the heat being everything but comforting, which said plenty about its danger. I practically felt my scales welting just from exposure and I was running away from the source.

I panted deep and hard, struggling to bring forth the last of my plasma blasts. I needed to buy as much time as I could, it needed to count. How fast does rock fall again?

I shot at the ceiling and brought a huge chunk of it crashing down. I slid underneath, just ahead of the falling rubble, evading all but a few smidgens of dust. Father however was far larger and slower. He ran into the collapsing ceiling without stopping, creating a loud thump. I turned my head back for a moment and found that father didn't punch his way through.

I breathed a sigh of relief and stopped, regaining what little of my breath I could before resuming my escape. I doubted that killed my father, even if he was purely human, I would have bet on him surviving.

And true to my predictions, it seemed Dad lived after all. The stony rubble glowed red as something within it burned, lighting the rock with such intense heat I wondered if it would melt. Then again, given that displays I've seen from Dad so far, a better question might have been "how long?". When I saw what my father was doing, I turned tail and ran again. We were at the home stretch and I needed the gap as wide as possible to do what I needed to do.

One more corridor down, I saw a wide flight of stairs heading down. While they were admittedly way too small for my now massive feet to properly use, that didn't matter, I was here. I descended, recklessly at with all possible haste.

And wouldn't you know it, that ended up costing me. I twisted my leg or slipped on something and suddenly I found myself tumbling down, landing at a heap on the floor. Funny, I guess something never change. I shook my head, trying to get control of myself from the dizziness the spinning room.

But I didn't have the time for that. I heard a loud roar coming from right behind me, one that seemed to grow even more intense as time went on. That was not good, not good at all.

I rolled off my back and onto all fours and then leapt forward, just narrowly avoiding at least a ton of Monstrous Nightmare coming right on top of me. "You think you're so clever!" he snarled.

"No, not really." So much for buying time. I just ended up wasting it trying to recover from a slip up. Just like how things usually are, right?

The chase resumed as if nothing happened, but soon it was all about to end.

I dove ahead of my father, leading the chase. We suddenly found ourselves in the dining area within the long ago repurposed dungeons. The remnants of an interrupted dinner still languished cold and uneaten, their owners having been taken for battle long ago. That was fine by me, the less people involved the better.

I leapt over a table, my powerful legs sending me forward and then absorbing the fall as if it was just a normal part of walking. I zigzagged my way through the isle, frantic agility and the pounding in my heart giving me that kind of power. Father did not even bother with such things, as if they were beneath him. He shoved his way through tables and kitchenware as if they were tunics on a clothesline, not even caring for the kind of damage he dealt to his surroundings or himself… actually, was he even damaging himself? "Come back here!" he roared.

I poured what little strength I had left into my lower thighs and took off in a burst of speed. It was all or nothing now. "Not yet!" I denied. And then taking the last bit of dragons breath I had left, I shot it at my own father.

The dragon recoiled as the blast hit him in the side, probably hitting a weak spot. The dragon jerked back, his right side ceasing to respond for a moment while his left still tried to act like everything was fine. He skidded a few feet off before regaining control and resuming the chase.

But that split second distraction was enough.

I dashed into the open door and into my room. With a single forceful kick, I slammed the door shut so hard that it caused the locking mechanism to click and the doorbar to land into its resting spot.

Dad then ran into the door, his body slamming into the wood with a heavy thud. The door held firm but rattled from the shock, cracks forming in the walls with a sagging thud. For a brief moment, I toyed with the idea that maybe my father was not able to get me from here. But I was a fool to even consider the idea. The door started lighting up, as if a fire was starting to burn through from the other side. Instead of choosing to break the door down with force, my father chose to simply wait for it to burn away from his though.

I hurriedly backed away from the door, knowing that my time was short. I went over to Toothless's bed, knowing he kept his extra things underneath.

I overturned my brother's bed and began to look for what I wanted, but then I found something rather disturbing. Toothless's crossbow sat there, unused, unloaded and certainly not ready to fire. Why was it here and not in my brother's hands? And if it was here… then what did Toothless have? Was he going through the battle unarmed?

A sinking feeling welled up in my chest, but I pushed it back. I really did not have time to deal with that. I had my own father to worry about first. Once I get him sorted we could both find him… or what's left of him.

Pushing back that uncomfortable thought for a moment, I found what I was looking for. My little brother kept a small box about the size of a pair of shoes underneath his bed. While he often carried his… Moving on. Anyways, ever since father was taken away, my little brother kept a habit of getting as many of his "special" crossbow bolts within close proximity to him as possible. But that turned out to not be enough for him, so he's also made it a habit to keep enough extras on hand and this box held them all.

I overturned the box, scattering its contents to the ground dozens of seemingly identical bolts fell all over, their own distinguishing features were slightly different engravings on the tips and the colored strings that were wrapped around each and every one of them. Most of them were red, my brother's explosive bolts, the ones that he created to replicate the destructive dragons breath of a Nightfury. Yet a few were labeled green with a silver engraved tip, setting them apart as the arrows that started this mess in the first place. In the past few months, my brother and I think we've figured all we needed to know about those arrows. Everything we learned showed them as being some sort of… spell destroying weapon, able to undo enchantments and charms. And it was those bolts I needed; they undid the spell the King placed upon me, surely they could undo the one placed on my father.

I lowered my head over to the nearest bolt, planning to wrap my tongue around the thing. I might not have had hands but… maybe all I needed to do was spit it in my father's general direction and…

"DO NOT TOUCH IT!"

I jerked my head back in a sudden startled surprise, not expecting the loud, booming voice to speak to me like that.. I turned my head in a thousand different directions, trying to find the origin of it, but… it seemed to come from nowhere at all; no one else was here.

"Of course not…" the voice replied as if aware of my thoughts.

And then I felt like slapping myself. The reason I couldn't find the speaker nor could I figure out where the voice came from was that he was not here to be found. And yet he still spoke to me to me. Distance didn't matter.

"Clever."

I glowered at no one in particular, thinking that the speaker would be able to see the expression on my face. I knew who it was and I was honestly not surprised to find him talking to me at this point in time. "The Red Death," I said.

The voice seemed amused by the title, as if amused by the audacity. "I have been called many things throughout history, though that is a new one I will admit."

I shook my head. I was having a conversation with the Red Death, the King of dragons. He was one of a long list of a growing list of foes and yet he was so...cordial with me. Toothless would probably rip my head off if he knew about this. Or probably shout at my ear to deliver a few hate filled messages. I was thinking about doing the same.

The King seemed to pick up my thoughts as if I was an open book to him. Now that he was… here, I could practically feel it, his very presence rifling through my being. "We have much to discuss. I take it you understand already how this connection began."

I put my paw to the pavement and it shone with a faint golden light, etching bright letters into the stone. 'I KNOW' I had my suspicions ever since Mildew brought up the possibility of a spy, but it was only now that I truly understood that it could have only been me from the beginning. Ever since I received the Red Death's "Gift" that let me write on anything as a dragon, he had invested a part of his...awareness into me, letting me take it wherever I went. Through it, he knew things I knew, saw the things I saw and I didn't even know it until now. Astrid might have dealt with the King and Toothless and the other Squires might have lived under the great dragon their lives, but I was the only one to ever receive power from him, even if it was something so humble.

The King seemed delighted by my thoughts. "You are quite the thinker. I have no doubt that had things gone differently, you would have made a great Knight."

I frowned, I didn't want anything to do with that title, not when he was the one giving it. I didn't hate him the same way as my brother did, not by a longshot, but I didn't want anything to do with him, not after his betrayal.

I suddenly felt the room's temperature drop by several hundred degrees, as if everything went cold. "I lived up to my terms of the bargain." The King's tone was harsher than before, as if holding back something just beneath the surface. I was not too afraid, my frustrations keeping me forward.

"You took my parents from me and my brother!" If I could actually look the dragon in the eye, I would have done so, but as it was, I only had the ceiling to look forward to. Toothless might have been more vocal about expressing his views, but I had my own metaphoric axe to grind. And now was the perfect time to take a swing."Did you really need to do any of that? You could have just let go back home, live the rest of our lives!"

"Yes." The King spoke, in a stern and firm tone. He was unmoved by my words as if his heart was made of stone. "If you had allowed me and followed your parents, I could have protected you."

I blinked several times trying to grasp at the King's thoughts. He thought he was protecting us by kidnapping our parents? I was crazy, but… the great dragon was insane.

The Red Death continued to speak to me, knowing full well all the questions in my head. "Time and time again, the Herd have brought nothing but suffering to our Kin. I simply allowed your father to escape that endless cycle."

My throat went hard as I tried to swallow my anger and contained fury. "I don't see how anything you id spared me or my brother from suffering!" I've spend a good part of the night just trying to survive my own father. He might have had good reason from his point of view, but all I could see was that the King's perceptions were warped, twisted. I didn't hold back as I spun a biting accusation."You broke the agreement you had with my father and then enslaved him? You manipulated my mother into serving your ends, keeping her away from us for years, all for what? What kind of king are you?" And I was pretty sure he had something to do about Astrid.

"ONE THAT WILL RESTORE ORDER!" he answered right back... and what an answer it was.

I fell to the ground, stunned. My head pounded several times over as if I was hit several times with a hammer the size of Gobber's fist. The great dragon's response was loud, really, really loud that if it had been actual speech instead of thought, the whole island would have shook.

I felt the King's prescence still there, still present, but I could feel him with drawing almost as if in apology. "Forgive that… outburst."

"... That's fine." I stood, managing to make a few aching groans. Just what was that about? I must have hit a sore spot or something, something big. If the King's response was anything, he really felt strongly about the topic of upholding agreements, at least as long as he wasn't accused about breaking them. And what was that part about "restoring order"? What kind of order are we talking about.

I shook my head. I think I was done with this… nonsense. I had way too much on my plate and I didn't want to deaI it until I fixed the issue with my dad. I turned back to the arrows and then had a stray thought. They could damage spells right? So what if I…

"Do not do that, child!" the King warned.

"And why not?" I snapped. I wanted the connection between me and the King gone, no more spying right at me. Destroying it would be the simplest thing to do. All I had to do was give myself a poke.

"And the last time that happened, you ended up nearly dying due to violent decompression of your inner cavity." The King replied.

Strangely, I looked back at that moment with a little bit of fondness. I mean, it was at that time I learned about Toothless being my brother. I was not that afraid of hurting myself again. Hey, knowing my luck, if I did, I'd have another uncle or something. "I could just poke a finger."

"Our bond is not so easily undone," said the King. "and I would rather you avoid giving yourself any lasting injuries, especially through mishandling such dangerous objects." The Red Death still baffled me. I mean, just what kind of twisted set of ideas leads him to… doing all sorts of inconsistent things. He doesn't mind twisting pledges yet he loathes the idea of letting me lose a finger. What were his motives? Actually, that gave me an idea.

"So, what would you give me if I didn't try to stab myself?" I asked. The funny thing was, I could practically feel the King actually trying to think up the terms of the agreement, as if he was seriously considering my bargain. If there were any strange deals that had to be made, of course I was going to be the one making them.

"What do you desire?" asked the King, his tone all sorts of confused and worried. Although, that could have been a lie, a part of me really wondered if the King was really capable of lying at all. I mean, he's clearly demented on some level, but that doesn't mean he's a liar… okay, that's not a rabbit hole I think anyone should explore.

I wonder if he was even think up ways to twist my promise… or if he was even bothering when the goal was so simple. Regardless, I think it would be wise to make sure my terms weren't the kind that were easily subverted. Now, my first choice would have been to ask for my parents, but I had a gut feeling that was too high a price for the King. So, I went for something smaller, something I knew would be easy for both of us to agree on and hard to subvert. "Break our connection." I didn't want him using me as his unwitting spy anymore.

"I cannot do that," said the King

"Fine," I said. Whether or not it was a matter of him being incapable or unwilling, it didn't matter, I had another way to achieve the same result. "Then, I ask you never to use our connection to listen in, look through me, or anything else having to do with me without first asking me while I am conscious and fully aware and informed about the decision." Okay, that might have been a tad overkill, but after seeing several of the King's plots in action, a part of me wonders if it was still enough.

"Done," said the great dragon. "I will abide by those limitations set by you, provided you do not risk damaging yourself by handling it such a dangerous item."

"Right." I glowered. I guess that was good enough for me, something simple and with a few strings attached as I could make it it. But that left me wondering about how I was going to use those crossbow bolts to fix my father if I couldn't touch them. And, wait, why hasn't he burst through the door yet…?

I turned back to door for a moment. The door was partially burned through, but still mostly intact. I think I could break through it if I ran through fast enough; Dad should have busted it down and the wall while he was at it.

My gaze went skyward. "What happened?" I spoke to the King.

No reply.

"Answer me."

He did not respond.

I sighed. Great, the one time I was hoping for him to interpret the pact different, he doesn't show. And he was just here a second ago.

From outside, I could hear the sound of wood crunching and breaking against brute force. My father must have still been outside and overturning the dining tables. What was he doing? I approached the door and placed my ear on it, letting my sharp hearing do the the work for me.

"I don't want to fight you!" I heard from on the other side of the door. Wait, was that Toothless? When did he get here and… why was he here?

"You have no choice!" I heard my father snarl.

My heart sank even lower than when my father tried blasting me to death. My little brother was going to get burned by my own father! And unlike me, he didn't turn into a dragon when burned.

Panic shot through my limbs and I went into action. I blasted the door down with a quick burst, doing what my father should have done long before. After taking a break and recovering during my chat with the King, I was definitely beginning to regain some of my missing strength, especially my shot limit.

Neither Toothless nor my father noticed me in time, both wrapped up in their own business to realize the door to the room had fallen out and the Night Fury to come rushing out.

I dashed with utmost haste and slammed my father in the chest, causing him to miss his shot, hitting a wall several feet off the mark. I felt my scales burn and welt from the sheer heat on contact with my burning father, but it was nothing compared to the sheer agony Toothless might have felt as an ordinary stick of a boy up until he was reduced to ash.

Father growled and shoved me off of him, flames pouring out of his nostrils. Unlike other dragons, Dad seemed to lack a shot limit, on top of his flames being that intense. "Get off!" he snarled.

I leaped off and landed on all fours, standing in the midpoint between me and my brother.

I turned to Toothless to see how he was doing. He was fine and oddly enough dressed up in the cloak our grandfather left us. All my brother could do was just stare at me with an odd look of bewilderment in his eyes. "Uh… thanks for the save."

I nodded. Yeah, I was glad to offer it. I turned back to father, to keep an eye out for him to pull a sucker punch. "Get inside and get the… weapon." I shook my head. We made up a term for bows and crossbows before with the help of Meatlug, but after all this fighting and chaos I couldn't remember it.

Toothless didn't reply, he instead just went inside our room, clearly understanding what I wanted him to do.

Father roared and attempted to jump toward him, but I countered with a tackle on my own. He shoved me off him with contemptuous ease, but I managed to stop his attack before it began.

Toothless came back not a moment too soon, his crossbow in his hand and several bolts in his hip loaded pouch, still wearing his Night Fury shaped cloak just incase for when things aren't enough.

Our father snorted. "Ha, so both of you finally grew a little backbone and decide to fight me?"

"No." I said. Steeling myself for in the event we needed to fight. Toothless only really needed to land a single hit with those special bolts. While I was under the assumption that normal projectiles might burn or melt before coming into contact with father's skin, I was sure that the unique properties of these bolts would have been enough. "We're going to to help you?"

Father laughed as if the idea was some sort of joke. "From what?"

"The Red Death has you under some sort of spell!" Toothless answered, holding his weapon high and his fingers on the trigger. "We'll end it!"

Father laughed harder and harder. "You can't!"

"We will!" I denied him and then went straight at my own father with a great leap forward. Father countered lashing his tail in a swing.

Toothless let loose his bolt, but father evaded the attack, surprising for a dragon so large. He lifted one huge wing and let it come crashing down near my brother's head.

Toothless leapt backward and Dad almost had time to correct his wingarm's descent to land blow… but not before I leapt on top of him from behind, digging my claws into flesh to maintain the hold. My teeth came down near back. Father wailed and lashed out in every direction, violently trying to shake me off. My grip slowly began to slip and I let go, leaping off of my father to land a few feet away, sliding slightly as I did. Hopefully, I was far enough away for when the show started.

Toothless, in the time that I bought him, hastily retreated some distance away, taking cover behind an overturned table. Once he put enough distance between me and our father, he let out a short volley. The entire room burst in showers of explosions and noise, my brother's first real invention blasting our father with a short litany that was every bit as powerful as a Night Fury's plasma blast.

If he had been himself, our father might not have survived the attack, but Toothless and I knew better at this point. When my brother emptied the five shot magazine of his weapon, Father leapt right at Toothless, a fury in his roars and firing jetting out his his breath.

I tackled father again, this time directly in front of him, hoping to muster enough strength to force him to stand down or serve as a distance. I went through his flames, my skin blistering from the heat, but I was desperate enough now that that that was the sane choice. Dad recoiled and was forced to stand on his rear legs, as I forced my push to keep him back, my upper legs going onto his chest. Father recovered though and forced more weight onto his legs as he prepared to push back. I stood on my rear legs as well, hoping to divert more force to keep my father off balance. If we had both been human, Dad would have pushed me aside with contemptuous ease, but at least I could hold my own.

Our grapple was however going to be short lived. "What is the matter, boy, growing tired?" Growling, father put more and more force into his push, causing me to waver and slowly get pushed down to earth, making each successive attempt all the more easy as he got to employ more and more of his weight against me. But being short lived was all that I needed it to be. Out in the corner of my eye, I saw Toothless readying another bolt, one with a silver tip.

I narrowed my eyes and met my father's one last time, hopefully the last time ever. "No," I growled. "You're not beating us!" Hopefully Dad wouldn't break free all too soon, but there was this growing feeling of dread in the pit of my stomach.

"I have!" he sneered.

"No, we have!" Toothless declared.

Father turned his neck around to see Toothless readying his crossbow aiming to shoot him. Father glared as if waiting for him to do the deed. "Well, aren't you going to do it?" he dared.

Toothless glared back and for a moment, it looked as if my little brother was going to do it, not a hint of fear or hesitation in his eyes.

And then, that dread feeling in my stomach became insurmountable, as if the very core of my being turned ice cold as a wave of sudden fear washed over me. Images flashed through my head, about how everything could go wrong at the last second, about how my brother could miss and hit me instead, landing a fatal blow, about how the arrows would fail to break the King's spell, about how in a freak set of circumstances, my own brother's crossbow would jam and cause the the bolt to detonate while it was till loaded. Everything in me told me to give up, give in to despair. I backed down from my father, letting the grapple end, much to my father's surprise. I felt like shivering, quivering at the unknown sensation that caused my heart to beat in a rapid pace.

My little brother also shivered, his body quivering in panic. He couldn't hold onto his crossbow and more and his shaking hands made aiming nigh impossible. As the fear in my heart grew, it seemed like he was turning almost pale. His crossbow slipped from his hands and uselessly dropped to the floor.

About the only thing that seemed to scare me more was how we had been reduced to this. I was willing to help get my father shot by a magical arrow and try to pin him down a second ago and Toothless was willing do the shooting; where did all of that courage and valor go? What could have taken it away?

Father seemed rather annoyed by our sudden lack of will to fight, letting us back away. He turned down a smaller corridor where now that I weren't so distracted by the sound of battle I could hear the sound of stones getting crushed. Soon, a wave of Gronckles came down the shaft, munding on the walls to widen a path for those who came right after, one in particular drew my interest.

"... Mom…" Toothless gasped, his voice all sorts of fearful as if he was struggling to speak. I didn't blame him, I was suffering from sudden crippling anxiety myself, enough that my vocal cords wouldn't budge on their own and my limbs felt ice stiff.

The elder Night Fury stepped through the Gronckles, the smaller dragons getting out of the way as she approached. She looked at my brother with a stern look, sort of like the one she used when she was close to anger, but on a much different face. She said nothing, but Dad sure did.

Other dragons came right after her, Nadder, more Gronckles, even a Nightmare and from the other hallway I could hear more coming this way. I wonder how many of them were familiar with the odd family matters we were wrapped up in. They probably had a basic idea, what with a great number of events happening for all to see.

"Mate, why would you interrupt us?" our father declared. Wait, was Mom really the source of all of that insurmountable… fear that ran through my veins? Dad sure acted like she was the one responsible. "Now I will not know if our sons have at least a shred of warrior blood in them!"

Mother bowed her head and then turned back to our father, slamming our foot down. "It matters not. We must bring them home first."

The exceptionally Monstrous Nightmare grumbled something as if upset by the declaration. "Fine, but afterwards we have to go over retraining them! They are weak!"

"Later." Mother scowled as if this was conversation they had a hundred times before. Well, technically, they did way back when, but last time I stuck around for a conversation like the mood was much more peaceful. I felt the fear and dread in me grow as mother approached, almost as if the icy cold was being projected from her body directly. You know, that suddenly explains a great deal of Mom's reputation as a Knight, it wasn't just that she was bitter, but that she also held power over fear. I mean, it was certainly a powerful Gift. "I don't like using this power, everyone hates me for it!" she said, confirming my suspicions.

Toothless looked like he was about to break down and collapse, as if the only thing helping him stand was the fact that his own fear was keeping him from budging from where he stood. "Mom…" he groaned. "Please… don't."

"I have to," she said, her tone almost regretful. "For your sake." She then turned to look at me, she probably would have shown a tear if Night Furies could cry. "I'm sorry for having to do this to you, too."

"I'm…. fine…" I choked out. This was crazy; I couldn't even budge. I wish I had known about all this, so I could have prepared something before hand. But this never really got brought up and I don't think I recall many stories about people being paralyzed by a Night Fury from sheer inexplicable terror alone. Then again, I don't think many Vikings would admit to that and I think mother's aura seemed to be proximity based, maybe it was not as so impactful when she was up in the darkened sky? Or maybe she was focusing all of her power to keep us from moving? I don't know what her mental state was, but I imagine it wasn't pretty.

Mother simply nodded and turned to the other dragons, they were shivering themselves, but not so much they were utterly paralyzed by imagined doubts. Father turned as well, giving orders to his Flight. There was no doubt about it, he was their leader, I mean the King's mental… whatever it was probably kept that if there was anything left of my father still surviving. "Restrain them for our return to our Lord; keep them secure or I will have you heads!" I really didn't want to think about what'd happen to us when the King had me and my brother, but that aura that surrounded mother made me think of them anyways.

"Delay that order!" another voice shouted in response. We all turned our heads and down the larger entrance came Astrid, shoving her way through the dragons that slowly trickled into the dungeons. She was mostly recognizably human, but that was slowly fading away, her arms having grown more winglike and her skin taking on a bluish tinge.

Father growled at the newcomer. "What are you doing here? Stay back!"

Mom shook her head. "No, we should probably order your Flight to take her along as well. She is important!"

"I am important," Astrid said. "And I am ordering my Flight to not listen to you."

I blinked my eyes several times. What was Astrid talking about? Her Flight? When did she become a Commander? Was she the spy after all?Mom and Dad were also looking at her like she was talking utter nonsense.

Astrid looked at me, a nervous smile on her face. And here I thought it was my job to come up wit the crazy ideas. "Trust me," she whispered. Like I really had a choice. She turned back to the dragons, and spoke to them. "Did you forget that you work for me? You swore an Oath right?"

The dragons all approached her, all giving my girlfriend several sniffs as if to confirm her identity. They seemed to know her but they clearly had no clue about what she was saying.

"They can't understand you!" I told her. I found it easier to talk now; maybe mother's spell was weakened due to Astrid's sheer audacity, I mean, she just practically stood there blinking while letting my girlfriend have all the attention. "You're still talking too... Herd like." I shook my head. So, Astrid extracted an Oath of service from the dragons that make up my Dad's flight, when did this happen? I guess she must have done something noteworthy while I was busy being the King's pawn. Whatever, I'll translate. "She wants to know why you aren't serving her? Apparently, she claims to be your Flight Commander."

"Well we were made to swear a life-debt," said one Gronckle.

A Zippleback spoke up next, both heads speaking the words in unison. "She let us free from the Herd."

"But I am the Flight Commander!" declared my father, growling at the dissenting dragons. "You work for me!"

"But they were sworn into serve Astrid, first!" I replied. Okay, so maybe I can't out muscle Dad, but maybe, just maybe I could press Astrid's claim to get a manpower advantage. Dad might have been tough as nails, but even he had his limits, even as the most monstrous Monstrous Nightmare ever.

Astrid looked at me with an appreciative grin.

Father snorted a fury of smoke and fire. "I was given command of a Flight, the highest station and office underneath the King's authority! And you plan on undermining my authority?"

"Astrid's authority is greater than yours," I said. I sat on my rear and straightened my back, trying to look more authoritative. Mother's spell was hardly a shadow of what it once was, the fear replaced by the hope that things will turn out well. "I mean, which oath takes precedence, the older or newer oath of service?"

"You are outlaws against the King's authority! Her right ought to be suspended!"

"And that prevents them from serving Astrid how?" I asked. "The King expects Oaths to be upheld over all else, I mean, when I first met him he congratulated my brother for deciding to fight back against Ruseclaw's Flight for causing distress among the Herd. Yes, that's right, the King expects you to defend the Herd if you're a guest of theirs! Against his own forces! Call me crazy, but don't you think that applies to this situation?"

Several dragons began discussing amongst themselves, trying to piece together the logic I used or come up with justifications for siding with Astrid. Admittedly, I didn't actually know if that was really what the King believed or if it was some sort of ploy of his, because I kind of wasn't awake for all of that, but given that he thinks that upholding hospitality mandates potentially killing a disrespectful brother, I wouldn't put it past him. He was nuts enough.

My father however was not so easily convinced. He roared at the dragons who even considered the idea of supporting the mad ideas I spouted. "This is treason!"

"Against who?" I countered.

"Yeah, they're mine, after all!" declared Astrid, arms crossed.

Several dragons have finally made up their minds and approached us, sitting near us and bowing their heads over in servitude. I'll admit it was probably the strangest thing I had ever done, twisting the King's own mandates and sense of honor to convince the dragons under him to work under me, but well, it seemed like it was working.

Dad lost it and let a vicious howl. He snapped his teeth at the nearest dragon who dared to side with us.

"Hey!" Astrid coughed, not liking someone was taking out her servitors.

I narrowed my eyes. I doubted father, or at least the Nightmare that used to be my father, would do accept this. Which is why my desperate gambit hinged on another plot, one that I really hope my Mom would one day forgive me for. She was just sitting there, looking at us, a daze in her eyes; I was going to give a rude wakeup call. "Then we'll fight over it, to the death. Winner gains the leadership of the Flight!"

Astrid grinned, her smile full of sharp teeth.

Father growled, narrowing his eyes. "Fine, then I acce-"

"No!" declared out mother. "Husband, concede," she murmured. "This contest is not safe."Little waves of fear washed over me and my friends again as mother's focus had been restored, but it was all loose and disorganized, weak in comparison to the crippling field a moment before. Mom probably didn't have the strength to use it again or maybe there was just too many people to scare or maybe I dug deep enough to find what little bravery I had. It didn't matter, she knew couldn't scare us from conceding.

Father growled, eyes rolling. The head in the room rose several degrees. "They challenge my authority! And plan to take away command from me."

"Let them have it!" mother whimpered. "Is it really worth losing our Eldest?" It broke my heart to do this, but I knew if I was going to set up a lopsided challenge that required me to get myself killed, Mom would step in to avert it. I don't know the full details of what the relationship between my parents was at this point, but Dad at least seemed to act a little closer to normal around her.

"I will not!"

"Hey!" Toothless declared, drawing my family's attention. "Listen to her!" He held up his weapon in a threatening gesture, the crossbow primed and ready to strike down one of my parents.

Father glared at him. "Stay out of this."

Mother brought her neck over to father side, genting rubbing it against his own, subtling throwing his attention to somewhere else. It didn't look like she was suffering the same intense heat that radiated of our father, but then again, Dad didn't seem to notice the fear that slowly welled up in everyone else's heart. Might have been a Flight Commander thing. "We have to go," she declared. "We lost too much and we'll lose too much more engaging in this contest at a time like this."

Father growled not liking it but he nodded his head. "Fine… " he turned back to look at Astrid his gaze white hot, literally. "I concede."

Astrid nodded. "Then I release you to go, but everyone else of my Flight shall stay with me."

Dad glared even harder. "Very well." And then he turned to leave, walking out the larger corridor, ever step hard enough to feel like it shook the room; it was like he had been transformed into a walking volcano.

Mother turned one last look at us, giving an unreadable expression and then left along side her husband.

"You're all staying with us," I said to dragons for Astrid. She didn't speak Dragonese/Draconic yet, though that was slowly changing. "Those of her Flight must stay behind, everyone else, you're free to go."

Many dragons left to follow the defeated Flight Commanders, but still others approached us, bowing their heads in a proclamation in servitude. It was all strange, I'll be honest. Astrid had her own Flight at her command, well, technically. I mean, not every dragon that served another was part of a Flight, but there were enough joining under Astrid's banner, or maybe wing was more appropriate, that it might as well have been one.

I turned to Astrid letting out a sigh. "Boy, this is all going to take some explaining. I don't think… our host was going to like it." Dagur and pretty much every Chief was going to be asking for an explanation on why there were somewhere over a dozen dragons bowing their heads over to my girlfriend all awaiting order from a Flight Commander who was only partially a dragon. I mean, that's the sort of behavior that gets Vikings to reconsider everything they know in the world. I was wondering as well, but I had an idea on when this might have all started.

She smiled. "Well, atleast we have some of our Kin to work with…"

I frowned. I really wonder if we couldn't undo...whatever it was the King did to my girlfriend.

Toothless also gave a relieved sigh, releasing his crossbow from his hands. "Uh, Hiccup, we're probably going to be needing to explain a few things to Dagur."

I squinted. "Like what?"

"Uh… everything?"

The dragons looked at us, curiously, probably wondering what was even going on. I didn't blame them.