THIS IS THE FINAL CHAPTER FOR THIS STORY AND I AM KIND OF FREAKING OUT I MEAN THIS IS A BIG DEAL! I've spent nearly TWO WEEKS on this story, and it is BY FAR THE LONGEST STORY ON FANFICTION I HAVE EVER WRITTEN AND I JUST WANT TO SAY THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU I GOT OVER THREE HUNDRED REVIEWS AND I AM FREAKING OUT BECAUSE YOU GUYS BROKE THE REVIEW RECORD! THANKS! ENJOY THE LAST CHAPTER!

Hiccup had never seen his funeral before.

Of course, no one had expected him to be running up to the people in mourning over the supposed loss of their heir, alive and, well...not dead.

It was actually a rather humorous sight to him, if Hiccup was completely honest. If he had died, of course, it wouldn't have been. But he hadn't; now he was watching his family and tribe prepare his funeral, and he was standing right there, staring like a dumbfounded weirdo.

"We should do something about this," said Hiccup. Then, he ran with his friends and shouted, "NOT DEAD!"

"He's not dead!" shouted Astrid.

"Yeah!" Snotlout agreed.

"WHAT!?" the tribe members echoed. Then, it burst into utter chaos. Hiccup was bombarded with questions, and then hugged by his father.

"He's not dead!" Gobber shouted. "Cut the funeral!"

"I thought you were dead!" said Stoick.

"Me?" said Hiccup. "It takes quite a bit more than a deranged Berserker to kill me." He suddenly thought of something he hadn't before. What had become of Dagur? "Dad," said Hiccup, almost tentatively, "what happened to Dagur?"

Hesitation. That was the first thing Hiccup picked up. He knew what had happened to Dagur at that moment. It was quite apparent. He was dead.

"Dagur's dead, Hiccup," said Astrid, not wanting to sugar coat anything. "Toothless killed him after we thought he killed you."

"I...I didn't want him dead," said Hiccup. "You guys know I would have just thrown him in prison...if we got to the point where I won..."

"We did win," said Stoick. "You did, anyways. Dagur didn't deserve life, Hiccup."

"I...I know he didn't," said Hiccup. "But...I just...don't...I wish it could have ended differently. Some other way."

"I know you do," said Stoick. "But it didn't."

"Hey!" shouted a villager. "What are we going to do with the pyre?"

"I think I have an idea," said Hiccup.

...

"Are you sure?" said Astrid.

"Yup," said Hiccup. "A warning."

The Berkians had placed Dagur's body on the pyre, and were just about to send it off to Berserk. Hiccup was making some last minute notes to heed.

He carved with his dagger on a thin piece of rectangular, square wood that was about the size of a normal sheet of paper. On it, he carved:

Dear Berserkers:

This is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, heir of the Hairy Hooligan Tribe, Trainer and Rider of the Night Fury (unholy offspring of lightning and death in case you want to know) writing. Merry tidings I give you, over the body of your fallen Chief. Greetings.

Yes, I know you are shocked, but please don't be. I also know saying that won't do anything, but nonetheless, I want you to know that this is all not my fault. Dagur the Deranged was just that: a deranged man whose heart and mind were both set on kill. No other setting; kill.

He probably didn't tell you, but ever wonder what happened to your former Chief, Oswald the Agreeable? I'm certain he didn't. The price, should someone know, would have been death on his part. If you still do not know what I speak of, I will tell you:

DAGUR KILLED HIS FATHER. DAGUR'S FATHER = OSWALD THE AGREEABLE. OSWALD THE AGREEABLE = YOUR CHIEF. PRICE FOR KILLING YOUR CHIEF = DEATH.

As you see, Berserkers, I meant no harm to befall of Dagur, but if Dagur lived to tell the tale, someone would have eventually found out. Dagur would be dead once the first person learned the truth. I am sorry for what me and the whole of Berk have done, but given the choice, we would have picked differently. I really hope you live to understand that.

My name is Hiccup Horrendous Haddock the Third, as spoken above. I wish not for war; I am a peacemaker. And that is what I wish for; peace. Can we have that? Genuine peace? No treaty to ensure it. No pressure. No annual renewals of vows. Can't we just be friends? Friends don't need a treaty to ensure their partnership; they just are. And true friends always will be.

You need not reply. I will know what your choice is when you do not attack us.

Sincerely as I ride a Night Fury,

H.H.

"They'll think you're crazy," said Astrid.

"I am crazy," Hiccup responded. He attatched the piece of wood to the pyre, and then watched as the Berkians pushed it off. He inhaled, and exhaled deeply. He wasn't worried the Berserkers would attack. No, he wasn't worried at all.

The Berserkers didn't attack again. Hiccup could only guess that they had accepted his offer. Dagur was dead.

Hiccup was alive.

THE END