Hey guys! It's finally done. Just wrapped up the overall proof reading, and I'm updating a couple chapters (namely ch 1-3 and 12-14, ) that I added some new materiel too. But if you want more, don't worry. I've already been working on some ideas that focus around Gunnar's kids when they grow older, and what exactly happened to the Uldrig the sorcerer. But that's for later. Thanks so much for the views yall have given me and i sincerely hope you've enjoyed it!

Closing the Book

Freya and Gunnar, despite their injuries (and probably unwisely) began the long flight back to New Berk almost immediately after getting basic medical attention and rest. It was going to be awhile before Dragon Island was empty- hospitals had to be built, filled, then emptied. Funerals had to be held, bodies burnt, junk cleaned up. Messages had to be sent, feasts held, and prisoners dealt with. The two of them felt like they had done their part- all of that could be handled by the multitude of chiefs present. They had more important business to attend to.

And as the couple flew back in the sunshine, trying to minimize the pain that flying induced in their wounded bodies, Gunnar reflected on all of the work ahead for the entire archipelago- almost all of the Viking's villages would have to be rebuilt, New Berk needed extensive repairing, and whole tribes had to be shipped back to their islands… just to lay out the biggest items on the checklist. Not to mention trying to get back to whatever constituted normal.

They landed outside of Valka's house, battered and weary, to be greeted by almost every Viking on the island clamoring for news. There were so many underfoot that Gunnar couldn't even dismount. Shock had to roar in their faces (and even brandish his blood-coated armor at a few of them) to get them to back off. Gunnar slowly slid down, grunting in pain and almost collapsing when his weight transferred to his wounded leg. The young Bloodhat Chieftess Hertha rushed forward to catch him, letting him rest his weight on her sturdy shoulders.

She gently held him as she watched Valka assist Freya down from Flashbang, and worriedly noted both riders exhausted and wounded state. Actually, all of the Vikings were staring at the two in mute fear, afraid to ask the question that Hertha was giving whispered voice to: "General…did – did we lose?" He shook his head violently, seemingly trying to shake the tiredness from his eyes. It appeared to work, as he stood up a little straighter and glanced at the assembled crowd wearily. "No. Dreadlac is dead. I cut off his head myself, and his army is destroyed."

A happy roar erupted from the gathered Vikings, as warriors and civilians alike laughed and slapped each other on the back, cheering the news. But neither of the two newcomers heard, and neither cared. They quickly slipped into Valka's house unnoticed by the celebrating crowd, assisted by the owner and Hertha. Once inside the graceful old Viking guided the two of them into the same room Gunnar was put in all of those years ago- the room hadn't changed a bit, but they sure had. Each got a quick look over- both of Gunnar's wounds had reopened during the flight, but Freya had gotten off better. It looked like the only thing she had suffered from during the flight was increased exhaustion.

As soon as she had finished, she stood up and gave the two battered warriors a critical eye. "Now my dears, it was very reckless of you two to come flying straight back in the condition both of you are in. It was quite foolish and will lengthen both of your recovery times." But then her stern visage relaxed into a gentle and sympathetic smile. "But if my guess is correct, you did the same thing Stoick and I would've done. Do you want me to go get the twins?" Gunnar nodded and Freya almost whimpered as she answered quietly: "Yes please."

Valka nodded and disappeared. They sat there on the same cot, Gunnar leaning back against the wall and staring up at the ceiling. "You know, it still hasn't really hit me that we won." He grinned slightly and gently held his wife's hand, giving it a little squeeze. "I fulfilled a lot of promises today. I told you I would make sure you survived the battle, and you did. I vowed I would kill Dreadlac with my own two hands, and I did. I promised your mother we could win, and we did. This might sound petty but I'm quite pleased with myself. And relieved."

Freya chuckled and shook her head. "You're a weird knucklehead, you know that? Most people would've been proud of having killed Dreadlac and saved the Archipelago, but you're just happy that you fulfilled a bunch of promises."

He looked at her painfully. "What's wrong with that? I take my word seriously. If I say I'm going to do something, I'm going to do it. I'm just saying I'm glad I got a lot of big ones out of the way."

She almost laughed this time, and glance sideways at him lovingly. "I know that, you handsome klutz. That's why I married you. One of the reasons, anyway."

Before he could retort the door opened and Valka came in with a grin, holding two tightly-wound bundles. She laughed as the two parents almost lept at her in eagerness. "Hold on, don't go knocking me down with them! I'm a little fragile, as are they. Here, Freya, there's Finn. He's been fussy ever since you left but otherwise alright." Freya almost burst into tears she was so happy to have her son back in her arms. She held the little snoozing bundle tight, murmuring a symphony of little motherly things.

Valka then handed a wailing Idony into her father's eager hands. Once again, the little girl magically calmed down almost immediately upon feeling her father's comforting arms around her. Valka smiled fondly at her grand- and great-grandchildren. "And poor little Idony has been restless for the entire past week. They've missed you both." She watched the happy little family for a minute or two before she turned to go. "I'll leave you two alone for a little bit. I'll bring you some food in an hour maybe."

They sat there- side by side- exhausted to the bone, scarred and bruised, but victorious, cradling their two children in utter contentment and happiness. Gunner stared into his daughter's big blue eyes, while her perfect little hand clutched his worn and dirty finger. "Freya?" he said without moving his gaze. Freya looked up from her giggling son and smiled at him. "We haven't had the christening ceremony yet, right?" She shook her head. "I think we should change Idony's name."

Freya just tilted her head. "Why? What do you want to change it to?"

Gunnar grinned as his tiny little daughter happily cooed up at him. "Sigrid. Sigrid Kelsi McHartson. We can call her Siri for short. I think that's the name we've been looking for."

Freya looked at the baby and smiled. "'A Brave and Marvelous Victory'. I like it."

He grinned down at the bundle in his arms. "Hi Siri! How does daddy's little girl like her new name?" Siri giggled back up at him, legs kicking in her bundle while her arms waved haphazardly in the air. Gunnar laughed and glanced up at his smiling wife. "Siri approves."

/

Later that week, the newly-christened twins Siri and Finn had the pleasure of witnessing their first Changing of the Chief ceremony. Now that the war was over, and Aker's command abilities had been more than proven at the (somewhat cheesily named) Second Battle of Dragon Island, Hiccup felt that it was finally time to hand the chieftainship off to his son. His reign of 23 years had been some of the most peaceful and prosperous years in Berk's history, and every Berkian Viking that attended stopped by to thank him for his good work. Many of the Archipelago's Chiefs where present as well, all there to congratulate him on a job well done, and to wish Aker good luck.

The first thing that the newly retired chief did was to take that long-planned trip with wife. They were gone for two whole months, with the only communication being random sighting reports. When they finally returned home, all they would say was that they visited a great many sights from their long history and said hello to a great many old friends.

/

Gunnar didn't get final closure with his past until three years after the battle, when his little side project was finally completed. He took a trip back down to Ireland with Freya, the newlyweds Spitlout and Thora, and an Irish friend named Keegan who offered to serve as a guide. Their first stop was to visit Milly at Binsveld village, who's tavern was now a prosperous and bustling meeting place, so much so it was keeping the old lady 'to busy ta die'.

The wonderful old woman was ecstatic to see Gunnar again, and even more excited when she saw Freya's three-month-old pregnant belly. They stayed a good and pleasurable week at her tavern, enjoying the food, getting absolutely spoiled by grateful Irishmen, and telling (modified) stories of the great Battle and Gunnar's duel with Dreadlac (he and Freya had decided to keep secret the apparent magic at Dreadlac's disposal. Gunnar was sure a powerful druid was involved, but it was best not to spook the superstitious Vikings… or Irishmen). After the week, with many well wishes and small parting gifts, they set off to find Gunnar's final destination: his home village. They found the peaceful and deserted clearing after about three days of travel south.

Gunnar slowly drew in a breath of cold air as he surveyed the area. It was pristine and beautiful, in a way. Flowers grew abundant in the clearing, with the only noise being the gurgling of a nearby creek and the twittering of the birds among the wide branches overhead. The only signs of what used to occupy the clearing was the crumbling remains of chimneys, a scattering of rusting metallic objects, and a ruined well.

Keegan walked toward the center of the clearing. "Here 'tis, all tat is left of the Village McKraigh." He paused to look at the scorch marks on one of the crumbling chimneys. "'Tit was burnt down maybe 10-15 years ago by Dreadlac's raiders. As ye can see, not much is left."

Thora nodded. "Looks like it. Check this out." She pointed at a green mound off to the side of the ruins. The crumbling remains of spears encircled it. "Looks like a mound. It probably holds the villager's warriors."

Gunnar shook his head somberly. "No, it holds all of the villagers, not just the warriors."

The Viking tilted her head questioningly. "How do you know?"

Gunnar turned toward the center of what used to be the village. "Because I'm the one who put that mound up."

Gunnar didn't notice his guide's surprised face. In fact, he wasn't seeing the green meadow that he was walking in at all, he was seeing the village as it used to look when it stood, with people long forgotten carrying out their lives happily.

A feeling of Freya comfortingly squeezing his hand snapped him out of his vision. He looked down and smiled appreciatively. Pointing to the far side of the clearing, he said "over there is where I burnt the bodies of the raiders that I and the rest of the defenders killed. You should still find remains somewhere over there, I'm sure there were too many to burn completely."

Keegan glanced over somberly. "So, t'is is the village you're from originally? I am sorry. I do remember this place naow. I had a cousin 'ere that I used to play wi' a lot when I was a wee lad. It was a nice place. Damn shame the daemon had te find it."

Gunnar and Freya stood in front of the remains of two great stone pillars that once marked the entrance to the village's great hall. "I found Seamus here. He apparently made is last stand at the doors to his dead master's home. What was left of him was laying behind a pile of easily 30-40 dead raiders. He made one heck of a last stand."

Gunnar laughed a little bit. "He always said that his only wish in life was to go out with his sword in his hand. I'm glad he got his wish. He was the closest thing to a father figure I ever had."

The unusually somber Spitlout stood up from a small stone that had been placed at the base of the villager's mound. "Well, it looks like you weren't the only one to take care of this place. Someone else has been keeping this clearing in shape, which explains why the forest hasn't taken over yet."

Gunnar studied the surrounding woods strangely. "I wonder who that person is." His gaze fell upon an old oak standing upon a hill overlooking what used to be the village. Erin's favorite tree. He slowly walked his way up to it. At its base was a small cross, with faded Irish words carved carefully into the horizontal piece. Below it a bouquet of flowers, at least a week old, lay wilting on the ground. Someone was still taking care of the place, surprisingly.

Freya squeezed his hand. "Is this… is this where she's buried?"

Gunnar nodded sadly. "Well, technically all that is buried here is her locket. That's all I could find. She's probably somewhere in that mound back there, her and the baby. Its… Its sad, really. I wish they didn't have to die like that so I could find you. But… the past is the past." He gently took from his satchel a necklace and placed it around the top of the cross. It was a simple piece of jewelry, with the only decoration being the pendant- a metallic talon-shaped object polished to a gleaming sheen. Gunnar had forged from the metal scavenged from Dreadlac's damaged helmet after the battle.

The soldier stood up straight and looked down at the simple cross with a sigh- like a weight had finally removed itself from his shoulders. "There, it's done. I promised her I would bring him down with my own two hands, and I did." The two of them stood there for a little longer. "Thanks for flying out with me Freya. I needed the closure."

Freya looked down at the little grave. "You're very welcome. I feel better too… to finally see your old home and where your old family was buried really helps me to connect with your past."

Gunnar grinned ever so slightly as he looked back down at the clearing. "Why'd you want to connect more with my sob-story past is mystery. Common. There're too many memories here. I bet the kids are driving your parents crazy by now."

The two of them walked away from the grand old oak tree hand in hand. Gunnar would never come back to the clearing again- he knew it in his soul. With the necklace delivered and his last promise fulfilled, he could finally close the book on his old life and focus completely on the new one ahead- one not filled with pain, destruction, and war, but with happiness, life, and peace.

When he and Shock landed back at New Berk, he was greeted by the wonderful sight of Siri and Finn running pell-mell towards him on their little three-year-old legs, screaming a chorus of happy little 'daddy!'s while waving their toy dragons around. As Gunnar got swamped with hugs and stories of what exactly happened to grandma's cookies this time, he finally realized something deep in his soul.

He was home.

THE END