A/N: It's Peter Capaldi's birthday today (April 14), so happy birthday to him.

Two

The following day was an off day for classes, which allowed Clara time to head down into the harbor. It was always off days when traders were in port, because few could keep their minds from the tales that were told and the wares that were sold. Considering the amount of students who were at the docks anyhow, it was as though class had merely gone outdoors for a session.

"Got any new books?" Clara asked the one sailor, last in the line of those she needed to see. He waited until some kids raced by before nodding.

"Not ones for the weans to know about," he admitted. "Bit violent and graphic this round."

"I, however, am not a child," she reminded him. He scowled and showed her the contents of his traveling chest, acquiescing to the known-educator only semi-willingly. She began browsing the contents when the trader began talking with another villager.

"Keep on the lookout," the trader told the villager. "We hear rumors that there might be some unsavory characters wandering about these waters."

"Anyone foolish enough to try anything in Berk realizes very quickly why we have been able to survive generations of dragon attacks," the villager boasted. It was true—very few came to Berk in an attempt to do anything less honorable than trade or visiting, and the ones who did attempt elsewise were quickly taught their lesson.

"…but would the ferocity of Berk be enough to keep the Last of the Dragon Lords at bay?"

The fact Clara didn't drop the book in her hands was quite the accomplishment, if she did say so herself.

"Dragon Lords?" the villager scoffed. "Those madmen died out ages ago! Before our grandfathers' grandfathers were born! Rumors of them resurface every now and then with no Lord in sight! Do you really think we're that foolish, when we're waiting on a dragon raid of all things?"

"I'd still be careful if I were you," the trader said. "A rumor might be a rumor, but when one's guard is down, then the risk for trouble is that much greatened." He saw that Clara was placing the book she was holding in her bag. "Four pieces, Miss."

Clara paid and left the docks, careful to not begin grinning madly. Ha! There was rumor going around of a Dragon Lord—it had to of been the Doctor. She returned home and went to pack a lunch, careful to not make it look as though she was taking extra. Dodging more people on the way out to Berk again, she made sure she was not followed before heading back towards the lake. When she arrived, she found evidence of a campfire, but no one to claim it.

Not wanting to simply give up, Clara wandered about the surrounding trees until she got an idea. Hiding herself amongst the underbrush, she waited and watched over the makeshift campsite, hoping that her guess was not the wrong one.

Sure enough, eventually the Doctor and the dragon emerged from further down the tree line, attempting to see if there was anyone there. He had her bag slung across his shoulder as he sat down next to the fire remnants, petting the dragon as it lay down next to him and nuzzled his leg. She prepared to jump out—best catch him by surprise.

"If you're going to spook me, then do it properly," he said dully. Clara huffed as she stomped out of the underbrush, irritated at him.

"I knew you were a Dragon Lord," she frowned.

"That again… what tipped you off? The dragon?"

"A lot more than that, but there's traders in port right now and they say to watch out for you." She watched as his face darkened almost ominously. "They're looking for you, aren't they?"

"They're not looking, and it's not me they're referring to," he replied. Instead of continuing, he took her bag from his shoulder and held it out towards her as she sat down. "Thank you, by the way. I figured this was you, wasn't it?"

"People in Berk don't go cold or hungry," she said, taking the bag back. She held out her lunch pack and watched his eyes flick between her own and the food. "Go ahead; eat."

He nodded and accepted the food, eating quickly. For being such a skinny man, he could really demolish a meal with ease. He looked guilty as he handed back the pack—embarrassed that he even accepted it.

"I don't know what dragons eat, or else I'd bring some for you too," Clara told the dragon. It emitted a low growl—less defensive and more apathetic—and didn't move.

"She eats lots of fish," the Doctor replied. "She was able to catch some this morning."

"She was? I thought she was injured…"

"Her wings are; the rest is just sore," he explained. "Well… her wings, and her chameleon reflex."

"Is that the thing she does when she's trying to blend in?" she asked. He nodded.

"The mounts of the Dragon Lords were bred for speed, endurance, strength, and the curious ability to blend into their surroundings with ease. They were the pinnacle of centuries of work and a symbol of dominance over not only the dragons, but the surrounding communities of humans as well. There aren't many like her left."

"Is that because there's not many like you left?"

"You might've given me some food to stop me from starving, but I'm not giving in that easy," he warned with a grin. "Idris is a special dragon though—that much is for certain."

"I grew up with the legends… though I didn't think that there were any of her left… that they all died out with the Dragon Lords."

"…and as you can see, neither of us are dead, despite what that fall attempted to do to us."

"Not sure if I should be upset or not," she quipped. She looked at the dragon and frowned. "How are Idris's wings broken?"

"There are thin bones in them and they snapped against the trees," the Doctor explained. He silently urged Idris to show off her nearest wing, which was taped up so it was folded together and straight. "They heal easily enough, but it takes a bit of time."

"Is that why you're 'the Doctor'?"

"I'm just a bloke who tries to be a good man," he said. "We choose titles to go by, ones that are promises, ideally casting away the names given to us at birth. The gods are to decide whether or not I lived up to it, but that doesn't mean I haven't tried."

"What was it…?"

He looked at her.

"What?"

"Your name… the promise…"

"Doctors save people," he said morosely. He turned his gaze towards the west and stared. "Don't you have to get back soon?"

"Shit—!" she hissed, mind completely snapping from the conversation. She gathered up her things and began to run, knowing how much more difficult the trek back home would be in the dark. Slowing down to catch her breath once she saw the village outskirts, she began to let her thoughts race as she calmly walked.

First off, she was keeping an extremely big secret out in the forest. The law was steadfast: no dragon was to live free on Berk, with any and all specimens being relegated to training for when their village was attacked. There were likely captive dragons who were being fought at that very moment in night training. So many of her peers and students had gone on to fighting in dragon training, yet Clara… few blamed her for avoiding the ring after her mother died.

Secondly, she knew it was only a matter of time before someone would become a bit too curious for her own good. No matter how careful she was, she knew that there was risk with each time she went into the forest, and it was thrilling, sure, but also concerning.

Thirdly, and most important, Clara wondered what it was going to be like when the dragons attacked next. Was the next attack going to be led by the Last of the Dragon Lords? What was the Doctor's role going to be in all of it, if there was one at all? He did not seem like the sort to side with death and destruction… though she knew too many villagers who were entirely different people depending on if they were in their homes or in the heat of battle to write him off completely. She was just entering the village square when she came to the conclusion that she was at least going to keep an eye on the Doctor and Idris, to make sure their intent was at least nominally good.

"Clara! There you are!"

Looking for the source of the voice, Clara stopped and glanced around the square. There, having started to jog up to her from across the way was Danny. He approached her with an uneasy look about him; something wasn't as it should be, and it concerned her.

"Danny…? You look like something's wrong."

"I don't know; your dad was asking me where you were, and he seemed a little off to me. Is everything alright between you and him?"

"Oh, I think he's just been a bit too tired lately from those night watches he's been taking," she tutted. "I told him he needed to cut back on them. Maybe he just needs to tell me he's actually going to do just that…"

"I hope that's all it is. Goodnight, Danny."

"Goodnight, Clara."

The two parted and Clara went immediately back to her house, where her father was already stoking the fire for the evening. She approached him cautiously, unsure of how the impending conversation was going to go.

"Dad…?"

"Clara… we have to talk…"

She looked at her father and the sad expression on his face. He seemed so old in the firelight, so tired, and it struck her as odd in a way.

"What's the matter, Dad?" She sat down across from him, trying to look him in the eyes.

"I've been talking to the traders down in port today, and I've been thinking… I'm leaving Berk when they set off tomorrow."

The admission caught Clara more off-guard than Danny had—her father…? Leaving Berk…?! Her eyes grew wide as she took in the information, completely stunned. He was the last person she expected to leave… and after all these years…

"They need someone who knows the Blackpool area well, as well as the rest of the Lancaster Archipelago—I was offered a job sailing with them."

"…but… you made Berk your home… you and Mum raised me here…"

"…and your Mum's no longer with us," he said. He looked down at his hands, sadness and grief washing over him. "You get this house, of course, but I don't know how much longer I can stay here, constantly living in the shadow of her memory."

"Dad… you never talked to me about this," she frowned. "I knew you've always been upset about Mum… but never like this…"

"I should have talked to you about a lot of things… I'm sorry…" Dave began to sniffle, feeling so many emotions at once. "You're an adult though, and I think now you're able to find your own way without me."

"Dad, you're an idiot," Clara said, tears beginning to flow from her own eyes. There was no malice in her voice, no anger, no ire… only sadness. "This isn't goodbye forever, is it? Please tell me it's not goodbye forever."

"No, sweetie, it's not goodbye forever," he promised. He stood and they hugged one another close. "I need some time away from here. You understand, don't you? I didn't leave because I knew you needed to be here, and now that you can stay on your own…"

"No, I get it Dad," she assured. "Thanks."

"Hey, maybe when I come back, there will be some wee surprises running around," he theorized. Clara could see by the look on her father's face that he was definitely teasing her, but that he hoped it would not stop there. "I get the feeling there's more than one eligible man on this island waiting for me to get out of here."

"Dad… you're the worst…"

"I see how some of the single men look at you… some of the single women too… in fact, I saw Danny just earlier and…"

"That's enough," she said firmly, ending the topic. "Should we make dinner together? For the last time in a while?"

"I do think let's."

The following morning, Dave Oswald left Berk after almost twenty-five years of living on the island. Many friends and well-wishers were at the docks to see him off, with a notable absence of one. Clara did not see her father to the ship that would take him away, instead going about her morning as usual. Both decided it was best that way, and there had been a promise made to visit as soon as possible. Berk returned to business as normal after the traders faded off on the horizon… at least as normal as possible.

"Miss?" A tiny hand in the back of the class shot up, pulling Clara from the lesson plan.

"Yes, Maebh?"

"Mum and Dad have been talking about Dragon Lords lately. Who are they?"

Clara put her primer down and leaned against her desk. "I guess the rumor's out. Who in here knows about Dragon Lords?" No one raised their hands. "Really? No one played at that when they were little?"

"We played dragon slayers when we were little," one of the other students claimed. Clara shrugged.

"Dragon Lords were a group of people long ago who had control over dragons," she explained. "They were powerful enough to keep peace amongst the nearby islands and hold the wild dragons at-bay. It was because of them we were able to first really build communities on the many islands we have now, Berk being one of them."

"What happened to them?" Meabh wondered.

"Some say they grew haughty—too overconfident—and died at the hands of their own dragons," she explained. "Others claim there were not enough of them and they dwindled in numbers until there were not enough of them to control the dragons as firmly as they used to." A different hand went up. "Yes…?"

"Could they be hiding? I heard they were hiding."

"That could be, but unless one of us meets a Dragon Lord in person, we won't know that for certain, shall we?"

The class all murmured in agreement—none of them wanted to meet a Dragon Lord, not if they were the ones who used to be able to control dragons. Most knew of dragon attacks as times for them to run to the shelters, but some hadn't been so lucky, having already seen first-hand what sort of damage the creatures were capable of creating before having the chance to hide first.

"My parents said that the traders warned that the Last of the Dragon Lords was wandering around, ready to destroy everyone who gets in his path," another student said. "Is that true?"

"I don't know, Courtney," Clara said. "I didn't hear much from the traders myself, nor do I know how true their stories are."

"What would you do, Miss, if you ever came across a Dragon Lord?"

Clara knew what sort of a question it was; despite it being honest and genuine, the classroom all knew what had happened to her mother, back when they were literal babies at best. She nodded contemplatively, not wanting to give away that she knew where the Dragon Lord was, for he was her secret.

"I'm not entirely certain," she replied. "A Dragon Lord is just a person—a person that legends hold could control a dragon to some degree—and I'm certain I wouldn't exactly be convinced for his lordliness." The students all giggled at that. "I might have some misgivings about the dragon itself, but ask your parents about the legends when you get home; their mounts were supposed to be some of the most dangerous of the dragon breeds."

"Which one was that?" asked the owner of another small hand that shot up towards the middle of the room.

"Not one in our files, because no one has recorded them since the library was burned some generations ago," she said. "It was supposed to be one of great speed and skill, able to vanish into thin air before reappearing elsewhere, rider and all." More than a few concerned gasps went through the room. "Don't worry—there's only been the odd sighting of a Dragon Lord here and there for the past few hundred years. They likely don't even exist anymore… like Courtney's will to resist carving the hell out of her desk."

The aforementioned student shrugged nonchalantly as the rest of the class laughed, the tension alleviated for the time being. Few adults were able to get them to relax quite like Miss Oswald, and for that, they were glad she was their teacher. As the day progressed, there was little incident that would have suggested to the school students that their teacher was completely and utterly preoccupied with a pair of unknown visitors camping out in the forest.

After dodging more questions from her coworkers about her father and promising to have a lengthy chat about it all later, Clara was able to excuse herself for a walk in the woods in order to "help clear her head". She was about to need plenty of walks, she assured gently, to make certain she had her feet on the ground, and her coworkers reluctantly accepted that. Once able to slip into the woods and assure her privacy, she went to check on the secret she was thrillingly keeping from the entire island. When would she let them know they were there? She wasn't entirely sure, but she definitely knew that the news had to be broken to the village slowly.

As the Doctor and his dragon came into view, the conversation she had with her students crossed her mind: what was she doing? It wasn't as though she was particularly comfortable around the dragon, but it was also worth noting that she felt the need to come here, day after day if need be, and it was a nearly odd sort of sensation. She sat down by the lakeshore near dragon and rider and sighed.

"I brought some dinner," she said. "It's not a lot, but it's at least enough to not go hungry or fight your own dragon for fish." She saw his nearly confused expression and scrunched her nose. "What?"

"You seem different today," he noticed. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm not different."

"Your face is different, like it's malfunctioning." He motioned towards his own face, as though that would help. "It's like it's trying to be both happy and sad at once. Isn't that a bit contradictory?"

"I'm not contradictory," she claimed.

"Then why is your face doing that?"

"Then I guess I'm just a bit melancholy, is all," she decided. He raised an eyebrow at that and she relented. "My dad left Berk today."

"Oh…"

"We've lived here since as long as I can remember, almost, and it's just sort of weird," she admitted. "I'm going to go home tonight and he won't be there. I'll wake up for work in the morning and he won't already be asleep after night's watch."

"What does your mum think?"

"She died over ten years ago now… fighting dragons."

The Doctor grew quiet at that, knowing how big a thing that was to admit. He glanced at Idris, who rolled her eyes, and sighed. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Don't be—it was an accident. She slipped and fell off one of the platforms in the rain. You didn't do it… not personally. It's just… I didn't think it was my dad I had to worry about moving away…"

"Were you more worried about yourself?"

"No… Danny." She looked at the Doctor, who was picking at some grass next to where they sat. "Sorry; I'm just venting, aren't I?"

"It's alright," he assured. "It's refreshing to hear someone else's problems for a change. This Danny lad… he's important to you, isn't he?"

"He is—we both weren't born on Berk, so even though this is our home, we're still a bit different, though not from each other." He nodded at that. "He was just talking about wanting to move too…"

"…and now he won't…?"

"Yeah, just, I don't know anymore…" She glanced over at him and saw that he was observing her rather carefully. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I've not had a real conversation with another human like this in a long time. It's… it's different than talking with Idris."

"I imagine so." She watched the dragon almost huff in what she imagined was indignation. It was such an expressive creature that she almost wondered if it was more human than she wanted to think about. "Why are you so insulted? It's not like you can talk back and hold your end of a conversation." It grunted and turned away from her; figures. Clara stood up and stretched, knowing she was going to need to get home early that night if she was going to avoid suspicion. The Doctor watched her cautiously as he idly began to pet Idris.

"Why are you being so kind to me?" he wondered. "You have every right to hate us, and yet…"

"I have a duty of care," she replied. "We have a duty, we here on Berk, to care for each other. If we don't, then the whole village will be destroyed."

"…but I have a dragon. Wouldn't you think I'm allied with them?"

"You're not allied with those dragons… that is plain enough to see," she shrugged. "You're a Dragon Lord, yeah, but you are…" She trailed off, not entirely sure how to continue.

"…a strangely compelling masculine figure…?" She looked at him flatly and he shrugged.

"Someone trying to be a good man; that counts for something, doesn't it?"

He mused on that momentarily. "How would you know that?"

"Let's just say it's a woman's intuition," she said. "I'll see you tomorrow, Doctor."

She walked away, leaving the man and dragon to themselves.