For a few moments, Astrid was back at the nest. Injured, tired, thirsty. Stranded, with no way home. She needed to build-

No. She sat up, her head spinning, and flipped the facemask up, unable to stand wearing it while nauseous. She was at the nest- the lifeless patch of beach in front of her was distinctive- but things had changed. She was not alone. There was no horrible breathing sound emanating from the mountain, and there never would be again. Even if the monstrosity were not dead, there was nowhere inside the mountain for it to go back to. The entire thing had collapsed in on itself.

With that thought, some of her wits returned, and she groaned, looking herself over. Everything ached, but she was not bleeding. Her armor had saved her from being cut to ribbons, as evident by the shells and sharp rocks still lodged in her pauldrons and every other armor piece.

She turned her helmet around, looking at the faceplate. It was scratched, but still entirely intact. The fall must not have been so bad-

Then she thought to wonder where the other person who had fallen was. Toothless. Where was Toothless?

Not in front of her. Not to either side.

She looked back, dreading what she might see. There he was, a black mass that was curiously indistinct, though he was not far away.

She looked up for the first time, trying to look at something, anything more than a few dozen yards away. The air was filled with smoke, a smoke that smelled exactly as the entire nest always had, only more so, which was why she had not noticed it. Visibility was sharply limited. She could see nobody else.

Then again, she didn't care about anybody else at the present moment. She stumbled to her feet, her legs protesting any kind of movement, and ran to Toothless's still form.

His saddle had suffered far worse than her armor. The tailfin was broken in three places, and while some of it looked simple enough to repair, she had neither the knowledge nor the supplies to try it. They were grounded at least until the supply ship got here in a few days, and possibly until they could return to Berk in the Spring.

That was all secondary in her mind, quick assessment done almost automatically. She moved over to his head, hoping he was still alive. She had not seen any deep breathing, but that did not mean he was not breathing.

She put a hand on his forehead, hoping desperately that he would respond. She did not want to lose him, not like this. They had won; he deserved to see the results. She did not want to be the only one of the three who had first come here to live past the end.

As if responding to her desperation, he stirred, his body shifting, leaning to one side-

Then flinching, a pained whine escaping him. His eyes opened, and immediately focused on her.

She gestured for him to be still. She knew next to nothing of battlefield medicine, because her mother still had not taught her, but she could at least find the problem and see if he could walk on it. They needed to find everybody else, to maybe locate somebody willing and able to treat a dragon.

Toothless sighed, craning his neck to watch her. He was hurt, clearly, and letting her take over so that he did not have to worry.

She pushed at his left side, the place he had leaned towards before whining. His back leg was okay, and so was his torso, though his whole body was covered in small scratches, mostly on his scales, along with a few shells stuck in him, which she removed as she found them. They left little cuts, a few drops of thick, nearly-black blood oozing out.

Then she got to his left front paw, and she knew what was wrong. Just like the monstrosity, though on the opposite side, his front paw was badly broken. There was not going to be any walking on that.

She moved back over to his head. "I can't treat that," she admitted. "But can you walk with the other three? We need to find someone who can help." She pulled ineffectively at him, trying to make it clear that she needed him to stand.

Toothless nodded, using his good paws and tail to push himself upright, and then precariously balancing on the three paws that were still usable. His bad leg, for it was not just the paw, was held up limply, just barely not touching the ground. It dangled macabrely, clearly broken in several places. It might be fixable, but it certainly looked bad at the moment, and had to hurt.

Which way were they going to walk? There was nothing in the obscuring smoke to indicate where the fight had happened, or where the remains of the fleet was.

Away from the mountain, and thus towards the shore. From there, they would pick a direction, and eventually find the ships. There was no other way, unless one counted wandering through the smoke with no direction, which she did not.

She moved to Toothless's bad side, and after a moment put a hand against his side, pushing up as hard as she thought she could maintain for a while. A small help, very small given how heavy Toothless was, but that wasn't really the point.

He had pushed their raft last time they were here. Now, she would help him move. The duality was not obvious, but it was there. Last time, she had been the one hurt. Now he was.

Toothless rumbled thankfully, wincing and taking a step forward. Astrid stepped with him, still pushing up to ease the weight on his good leg. She had just seen how walking with one bad leg had hindered the monstrosity; helping Toothless balance was as important as easing the strain.

They were not fast, moving like that. Toothless stopped every dozen or so steps, whining softly. Jostling his injured leg was unavoidable, but it had to hurt.

"We're almost there," Astrid asserted, not knowing if it was the truth. "Just a little further." She just had to get him to within sight of other Vikings, and then to find someone who could help, even if she had to threaten their life to get them to tend a dragon. She still had her ax, unused throughout this entire fight, hanging from her belt opposite her helmet.

She would do it, too. She had no problem with the idea of threatening an ally or even a fellow Berkian. Not now, not when it was all too likely they would withhold the help Toothless needed because of what he was.

A dozen more steps, and then a brief rest. She fell into counting the steps, tired but determined to get them to where they needed to go. Just ten more steps... nine more... all the way to one and then zero, and then to the rest. Then the count started over, with no end in sight. Each rest was a victory, as long as they kept going.

She wished she could just let Toothless lie back down and wait where they were, but if she went too far from him without any landmarks, she would not find him again until the smoke cleared, whenever that was. That wasn't a good idea.

Especially because she did not trust anyone who stumbled across an unattended, undefended, injured Night Fury. She would find him dead if she left him alone and out of sight for too long. Dead, and possibly beheaded if the killer thought they could get away with keeping a trophy.

They would die if that happened. She would do whatever it took to make that happen. Toothless was a dragon, but also one of the two people who had taken on the monstrosity on its home turf in order to save the attacking fleet. He should be praised for that, but everyone saw him as, at best, her trained mount.

They would never understand that this fight had not been hers. She had done the planning, but that felt like little to nothing when she recalled all the frantic, borderline impossible flying Toothless had pulled off, with the definite limitation of her working the other half of his own fin. If he had his own fin, she would not have been surprised to see him somehow pulling it off without her. She could not say the same of her own part.

Her mind was wandering, trying to make the time go faster. All they had was pain, the ever-increasing strain of lightening Toothless's weight by what little she could manage, and the small circle of painfully sharp and barren beach enclosed by smoke.

Eventually though, they reached the shore... and out to the right, Astrid could see the singed side of a ship. She had found them, and she could find her way back here if needed.

But she could not leave Toothless alone. So, once he had taken an extra-long break by the water's edge, they continued on towards the ship.

Walking through smoke like this made it all feel like a bad dream. The singed ship, more totally burnt-out husks sitting in the shallows, ice beginning to form on the charred bits sticking out of the water, the weather so cold that still water was freezing almost immediately unless it was moving.

Soon, they began to come across people, Vikings wandering the haze, looking for the injured or just plain looking. Until this smoke let up, nothing could really be done. Nobody knew where anybody was.

There would be dead. All who had rushed the monstrosity's head in that final onslaught, the glory-seekers and worst of the dragon-haters, were all definitely dead. Astrid didn't know how bad the scorchings of the rest of the Viking forces were, but few would have escaped the explosion totally unscathed.

As she and Toothless laboriously made their way down the beach, they began to get looks. Astrid knew they must be quite the sight, a limping dragon and a human holding it up, helping it along. But she was not prepared for the variety of emotions that flickered across the faces of those who saw her.

Fear, disgust, anger, all dulled by the events of the day. But also hope, thanks, or even... was that pity? She did not think the pity was aimed at her, but to think that anyone would pity an injured dragon...

She did not know what was permanent, and what was just a lingering effect of shock, destined to blow away at some point, like the smoke that hung in the air. At the moment, she did not care, either. What others thought was irrelevant.

A familiar shouting sound began to be audible. Astrid felt her pace quicken and then immediately slow back down as Toothless could not speed up. But she knew that voice, shouting orders and doing what needed to be done.

Stoick the Vast's large form appeared in the smoke by the beach, looking out into the cloud that obscured the place the Vikings had made their stand, and likely where many wounded lay, unable to move back to the shore.

"Chief." Her voice felt rough, but she did not mind. She had escaped mostly intact compared to her companion.

Stoick turned in her direction, clearly looking at what to him must be their silhouettes. "Astrid?"

Was it really a question? She coughed, clearing her throat more thoroughly. "Still alive."

"Good." Stoick was staring now, seeing them come into focus, much like she was seeing with him. "Something wrong with the beast?"

She felt a flash of annoyance. Of course; why else would she be attempting to serve as a replacement leg? "A badly broken leg. Someone with knowledge needs to treat it."

"All of our healers are occupied, many are burned," Stoick objected. "And most of them are out in this blasted smoke somewhere, looking for more injured. The beast will have to wait."

Not acceptable. "Sir, he needs treatment now. I will not let him be crippled because it was not set fast enough." She knew how human bones worked, and dragons were infamous for healing fast. If Toothless's bones knit in the wrong way, he would never fully recover. He needed attention now.

"Find someone willing to treat it, then," Stoick decided. "But it is not a priority."

Astrid stood there, uncertain of what to do. Toothless could not be left alone lest someone kill him while he lay undefended, and she could no longer really trust the Chief to protect him. She was not feeling very trusting towards Stoick right now; he was not acting in her best interests.

Whatever. So should she ask him to protect Toothless, trust him to give and keep his word, and go out into the smoke? That was a terribly risky plan, especially given Stoick was not likely to linger here if someone called him away.

She could not leave, and she could not stay or wait.

Someone appeared in the smoke, another imposing figure. "Oy, Stoick," Thunderguts called hoarsely. "Are we takin' the wounded 'ere or to somewhere out o' this smoke? I found a few more men to tend them."

"Out of the smoke, along the shore that way," Stoick replied, pointing the way Astrid had come. "Far down that way. This stuff spread far."

"Sir, do you have any healers?" Astrid asked hopefully. "There is one wounded here that needs immediate attention." It was a long shot, but she took it, having nothing to lose by asking.

"Aye, probably." Thunderguts and several of his men appeared, now distinct instead of a dark blur on the edge of Astrid's vision. He looked worse for the wear, and his men, four Windy Isle Vikings, did not look good either.

His eyes lit up when he saw her... and narrowed when he saw what she was doing. "Bad leg?"

"Broken, needs to be splinted and set," she asserted confidently. "But I don't have the knowledge."

"I've got it, Chief?" One of the Windy Isle Vikings suggested, holding up a handful of driftwood and torn tunic. "Gonna do that with the other injured anyway."

"Aye, get to it, and you two help," Thunderguts ordered. The three Vikings he had indicated approached Toothless. "And don't hurt it."

With that reassurance, Astrid felt comfortable standing aside after easing Toothless to the ground, not really moving him so much as guiding him. He seemed to know what was going on. That was a small relief, at least.

The man with the makeshift bandages hesitated in front of Toothless, looking down. "It won't bite my hand off when I do this, will it? It will hurt."

Astrid gestured for Toothless to be still. He gestured acceptance back with his good paw, nodding for emphasis.

"He will be still," she conveyed. "But do not cause unnecessary pain."

The three men got to work, setting their spears and swords aside in the process, within reach but not in the way.

Stoick was watching in approval. "Lucky, for you to just happen to have what it needs," he remarked to Thunderguts.

"Broken bones are common enough, so not tha' much luck," Thunderguts grunted. "Oy, Astrid. Were those Viking hand signals?"

Astrid nodded, walking closer to Thunderguts in order to more easily converse, keeping Toothless in her line of sight at the same time. "Yes. I had to modify some of them."

"Why?" Thunderguts looked confused now. "Surely it can understand the normal ones. I don' know 'em, but I know the look of 'em."

"He can understand them," she agreed, suddenly not wanting to reveal that it was Toothless needing to be able to use them that forced innovation. Thunderguts hadn't noticed, probably because it was so unlikely and could easily be dismissed as twitching, given Toothless's current state.

"Eh, whatever works." Thunderguts stood and watched in silence as his men tended to Toothless's leg, probably waiting because he wanted to go with them to wherever the injured were. It took quite a while.

Finally, the one in charge of splinting the leg stood from his crouching position, wiping sweat off of his brow. "Nasty breaks, those. Set correctly now, and they should heal in time. Also, I can now honestly say my more frustrating patients are more trouble than a Night Fury to tend to."

Thunderguts smiled at that. "Alrighty. Yer done?"

"Tending to it? Yes." The man picked up his weapon, a move copied by the other two men. "We going to keep doing what we were doing?"

"Aye, right about now."

Everything burst into motion without warning. The three Vikings who had just moments ago been tending to Toothless turned on him, their spears at his throat and back in an instant. Thunderguts took one large step forward and grabbed Astrid by the shoulder, his large hand gripping tightly, while his other brought a sword to her throat. The one remaining Viking pointed his spear at Stoick.

Nobody moved. Toothless was not willing or able to fight back, and his eyes were on Astrid anyway. Astrid did not put a hand to her ax, acutely aware she would not even be able to get it out of its holster before dying.

"Lucky I found ye," Thunderguts said ominously. "Given I was lookin' for ye. All three of ye. Bein' together in one place was a nice coincidence."

"Thunderguts," Stoick growled ominously. "This is a bad idea."

"Oy, what do ye think I'm plannin'?" Thunderguts asked, sounding genuinely insulted. "Ta kill the girl and beast and run? Maybe you too? Ye'd be right, that is a bad idea. But I'm not gonna do that."

"But you clearly plan to do something I won't like," Stoick countered, pointing his hammer at the Windy Isle Viking menacing him.

"True," Thunderguts admitted. "But I stopped carin' what you would like a while back. Cooperate, and ye'll live to find out what I mean."

That was ominous, but for all they knew, it was an empty threat. Astrid looked around, trying to figure out what was coming. She could not see Thunderguts' plans, or at least none that would work out well. This made no sense.

She glanced over at Toothless. He looked utterly afraid- not of the very bad spot he was in, no, he looked afraid for her.

Well, he had said Thunderguts was a threat. She should have listened then.

"Here's what's gonna happen," Thunderguts said confidently, not moving from his position menacing Astrid. "You, Stoick, are gonna do nothing. I don' need you."

That was very odd, and it did not bode well for Astrid or Toothless. They were the only other hostages, meaning Thunderguts did need one or both of them.

"And," Thunderguts continued, "Astrid 'ere is gonna come with me. 'Er dragon, too. They're joinin' my tribe."

"That's what you want?" Stoick asked incredulously. "Your tribe is no more comfortable with them than mine is."

"Who cares?" Thunderguts asked happily. "Sorry lass, but I don' know if Speedifist made it out alive, and I'm not gonna take chances. I need ye and yer beast."

Astrid did not shake her head, knowing that was a dangerous move, but she would have if she could. "That's what this is?"

"The first part," Thunderguts confirmed. "I'd not threaten either o' you, but I can't take chances. Don' worry, our tribe is a better fit for the two o' ye anyway."

She wanted to act the Viking, to defy him. But she wanted to get out of this alive, too. So she thought, quickly and frantically, and said what nobody was expecting.

"So just ask. I was going to join you anyway." She cast Stoick an apologetic glance. "Not originally my choice. My parents married me off. But I'm not opposed to it."

Lying to her Chief. She was dishonoring herself. Luckily, she no longer cared, and even more luckily, nobody present knew she would so willingly lower herself.

"Prove it," Thunderguts requested.

"Take my ax," Astrid offered. "From my belt, there. Take my armor too, if you see the need." She stepped just a small distance out, Thunderguts' hand loosening to allow her that, and put her hand to her ax.

"Attack me and the reptile dies," Thunderguts threatened.

"Stupid," Astrid countered. "You would waste what you want?"

"Nobody else in my tribe has any idea how to control it despite efforts to the contrary, so yes," Thunderguts explained. "Better nobody have it if I can't. So no funny business."

"Let me make sure," Astrid suggested, "that he knows that." She held up her hands, clearly intending to gesture.

"Ye'll die the moment it moves," Thunderguts reminded her. "So ye'd better be doin' what ye say."

"Of course." Astrid did not want to look at Stoick. She had to be breaking his trust in her. It would be worth it. She gestured to Toothless. "Stay, do not attack."

What she actually gestured was, 'on my mark' and 'escape.'

He shook his head, gesturing right back. 'Run.'

She repeated herself. "He does not like this, but he will listen. It is our best choice."

"Now disarm yourself," Thunderguts commanded, sounding less suspicious.

Astrid managed a smile, pulling her ax up and dropping it on the ground, firmly out of reach. "There. I'd prefer one of your men get it later. It's not exactly a common ax design."

"Aye," Thunderguts agreed. "So... welcome to the tribe?"

"You'll treat us with respect, and all things concerning how my dragon is housed or cared for are run by me. I will not allow him to be mistreated or separated from me." She met his stare with her most insistent look.

"Agreed," Thunderguts said.

"And I want a healer for myself," Astrid asserted, running her hands under her armguards, rubbing at her forearms. "I took quite a fall."

"You will be hunted as a traitor," Stoick growled, breaking his shocked silence. "There is no going back from this, Astrid."

"Why would I?" she retorted. "Berk has mocked and disrespected me for months. Maybe a Chief who needs me will make more of an effort." That was the truth, really, all else aside. If that was the only factor, this might be happening for real.

"Ha!" Thunderguts laughed at Stoick, lowering his sword from Astrid's neck. "Now, my new warrior. We'll go to our ship, and I'll send out some recruitment parties."

"For who? My parents, I assume."

"Aye, them too. And yer dragon-riding friends. Can't leave them behind." Thunderguts smiled smugly at Stoick, who was going red with rage. "Ye might have let it happen, but I'm not gonna let you keep it. Windy Isle is going to rise in the world, and Berk is a good first step."

"Coward. You hid like a snake, pretending we were still allies," Stoick gritted. "Instead of declaring war like a real Viking."

"I think, given what I'm takin' from you, neither of us are real Vikings," Thunderguts retorted. "This is somethin' better, stronger. Takin' whatever advantage exists. Who cares about honor? Nobody, once my tribe is on top."

Astrid clenched her fist, feeling a new trickle of blood spring to life in her hand. She turned to face Thunderguts, smiling widely.

A Viking, as Thunderguts had said, did not deceive. They did not plot, they did not sabotage, and they did not assassinate. They fought on open battlefields and hated each other openly. Thunderguts was throwing all of that aside. In doing so, he was stronger, but he was also, at the moment, ignoring something very, very important.

Others might have already done the same.

She shifted the shell that had just cut her hand, the one she had retrieved from under her arm guard, the one with the razor-sharp edge, and jabbed upward at an angle, lunging forward. Her arm met resistance, but she was strong again, and her shell was sharp. She drove it up and forward as far as she could reach, cutting deeply.

Thunderguts, despite his massive bulk, fell backwards like a toppling boulder, striking the ground below him with what sounded to Astrid like a miniature, pathetic version of the monstrosity's collapse, a small thud. His neck bled profusely, slashed open by her strike, the shell still lodged there.

There were thumps, small blasts, and screams of pain behind her. She was not worried. Toothless had been ready, and none of those sounds of pain were his. Stoick must have dispatched the other Windy Isle Viking.

What she cared about, right now, was what she had done. She knelt by Thunderguts' side, looking into his lifeless eyes. So fast, so brutal.

There was no honor there. He had not died in battle. He had claimed he no longer cared for any of that; would he feel differently were he around to know his death had been like this? He was not going to Valhalla.

She had no honor, either. She did not care.

A heavy hand fell on her shoulder, and she flinched away, not wanting to be reminded of what she had just done. She absently turned to face Stoick-

Only to almost cut herself on the ax Toothless was eagerly presenting. He warbled at her, though it was a muffled sound thanks to what was in his mouth at the moment.

She took the ax, conveying her thanks with her eyes, and wondering how he had moved so quickly and silently with a hurt leg. Then she turned the rest of the way, ax in hand, to face the consequences.

Stoick's face was troubled. He looked down at Thunderguts' dead body, and then at her. "This was..."

"Dishonorable, terrible, and entirely necessary," she summarized, her free hand finding Toothless's head.

"Aye, necessary." Stoick scowled at her, before slowly beginning to smile. "Ye had me goin' there. I never knew ye could act."

"I can't," she revealed. "I just said what I would have had I not had that shell up my armguard."

Stoick's new smile faded as he took that in. "And what would your plan have been then?"

"Join him, for a time," Astrid explained, entirely aware of what she was admitting. "Get my parents to somewhere safe. Maneuver to win his trust. And then, one night, to circumvent whatever he did to stop me, get my parents out from under his control, and to leave with Toothless. In the meantime, I'd do whatever he asked, only mitigating the damage as much as could reasonably be explained away."

"He would have you strike at Berk," Stoick said dangerously. "You would have done it, to some extent."

"I would not have come back to Berk," she explained quietly. "I know there would be no place for me there in that case." Even if she had managed to avoid killing anyone, striking at the village was not something anyone could forgive. In that hypothetical, there would be no going back.

"That is treason." Stoick crossed his arms.

"Sir, he was not the smartest," and now, thinking about it, she saw other flaws in Thunderguts' plans, "but he was right about a few things. Throwing away honor and the Viking way and all the rest of that stuff does make someone more dangerous. But there needs to be something left to hold to." She pointed at Toothless. "I long ago realized as much myself. I hold to my own conscience. Nothing more."

"And how am I supposed to ever trust you again?" Stoick asked, sounding truly confused and frustrated. "Do you expect me to ignore that? We are Vikings! The honorable path-"

"Would have been to use my ax, to try and kill him, and to let Toothless die, Sir," Astrid gritted. "My conscience tells me that I will not sacrifice my friend's life when there is another path."

Stoick hefted his hammer, staring at her with a new look in his eyes. "I cannot have someone with no regard for our way of life among my people." The unspoken addition was that he would have been happier had she kept her new outlook to herself.

"But you were fine with me as long as I only broke all that was normal in helpful ways?" she asked pointedly. "I consider Berk home. I protect its people even if they don't like or approve of me or mine. I did not and do not want to leave."

Then she pointed out into the smoke. "And out there, somewhere, are others who do what I do, somehow. I taught them nothing. How do you think they did it?"

Stoick looked away, his hammer drooping. "They are like you?"

"No," she said, surprising him. "I don't think so. But they cannot be led by anyone who will not bend the Viking way however needed to adapt. Who will lead them?"

"I am Chief-"

"And you are going to banish the one who inspired them. The one who admits she will never again be like everyone else." Astrid didn't really know where she was going with all of this, but she knew there was something down this path. "Even though the only things driving me are doing what I think is right, and protecting your own people."

"I cannot trust anyone who will disobey me at will," Stoick murmured. He was basically repeating himself in a slightly different way, as if coming back to the same integral issue over and over again.

"No, you just can't give me tasks you know I'll think are wrong," Astrid countered. "I still obey you, Chief... unless you force me not to."

They lapsed into silence for a few moments.

Then Stoick sighed, a long and powerful exhale. "Hiccup was like you, wasn't he." It wasn't really a question.

"Probably," Astrid agreed, knowing it was true. Toothless had helped her understand herself, and it stood to reason he had done the same with Hiccup.

"Things are going to change," Stoick continued.

"And you can either use it, or be left behind by it," Astrid concluded. "Thunderguts knew that. He didn't want to be left behind."

"You do what is right, by your own judgement," Stoick remarked, sounding a little less unsure of what to do. "And you will hold to honor and duty if possible."

"If at all possible. But not when that will lead to something I cannot allow." She really didn't know if Stoick was going to accept her. She had laid herself and her new mentality bare to the one person capable of banishing her from her home for it. That might have been a mistake...

But after what she had done to Thunderguts, killing him in the most unvikingly way possible, she knew she had to explain herself completely. At least this way Stoick's distrust was based on truth, not on whatever motives he might have ascribed to her actions. He knew who she was. Whether or not he could accept that was now in his hands.

And if he could not, it was not the end of the world. She could leave. Her family could stay or leave as they chose. She did not want to, but in the end there would always be something more. She was herself, and as long as she lived, she had enough to move on with. As long as Toothless lived with her, she had a friend to do it with. That was more than she really needed, in the end.

"Tell nobody else of your new... way of life," Stoick ordered. "They would have me Outcast you, and I would not be able to say no. We are Vikings, in name and in heart."

"And I am a Viking in name," she agreed, scarcely believing he was going to allow this. "Loyal to you as long as you do what is right. I think that should be good enough."

"Aye, I suppose it is." Stoick looked down at Toothless. "Also... Toothless?"

Had she said that name? Probably. "Hiccup named him that."

Stoick sighed again, this one filled with old pain. "Of course he did."

"He'd be proud," Astrid asserted, hoping she was right. Stoick had accepted more than anyone ever would have guessed, in the end. Whether the same could have been said if Hiccup had not died... she didn't know, and didn't really think it mattered

"That's all I can hope for," Stoick agreed. "Him and Val telling me 'you did well' when I join them in Valhalla some day."

At that, she would not mind as much herself, were she to end up in the same place as Hiccup. But that was a thought for far later in life. She had not died here, and she did not intend to waste the rest of her life.

Author's Note: I hope Thunderguts' betrayal didn't come as too much of a shock; it really shouldn't have. (And for those of you who will say his plans were badly thought through, yes, they were. That's a character flaw we'll be seeing more of before this story is over.)

Also, to the guest reviewer who asked, no, we won't be seeing 'Hiccup's ghost' or any other permutation of Hiccup in the remainder of this story. Seriously, why would we? He hasn't played a part in this story since the first chapter, and this story has at no point in the past allowed anything clearly supernatural to occur. There's a reason he's not even in the main characters listing; he doesn't play any direct role, especially here at the very end. Honestly, I find it a little strange that some people are so desperate for him to come back in some form; if you've gotten this far, surely you understand that this story is built around him not being present?