A/N: I've been writing a lot of backstory to this story lately. I don't know if I'll even end up using any of it, but that's the main reason why I didn't have this up, like, at least last week.

Five

As the day when the Master was to return with her dragons neared, Berk grew quieter and more intense. Three days out a meeting was called, where the entire village was gathered in the great hall. Clara attended with a plan in mind, which she was ready to throw into everyone's face if necessary.

"Are you sure it's going to work?" the Doctor had wondered. He saw the anger that was building in her and knew the source. "They might not bite."

"They will," she assured him. "You can use the distraction to go find some fish for Idris, while I keep the rest of the village busy. Just be quick—I don't know how long you've got. They might want to figure out new fortifications in the hall or they might want to go outside and start right away. It's about a fifty-fifty shot." He gave her a skeptical look. "Trust me, okay?"

"Okay, boss."

That was earlier in the morning, when everyone was just beginning to learn about and gather for the meeting. Now the hall was teeming with trepidation and concern—how were they going to handle the threat that was looming in the distance? Atop their elevated dais, the chief and his council sat overlooking the entire population of Berk, save for those too sickly to come out of their alcoves in the infirmary. Clara stood towards the side of the group, along the wall where Danny sat—not wanting to aggravate his new prosthetic too much—and Adrian, who merely enjoyed how thin the crowd was at the edge.

"People of Berk," the chief said, voice projecting over the crowd. Everyone hushed and allowed him to speak. "We face a threat unlike ever before: a Dragon Lord has proven that she is not as legendary as we originally though, but an active enemy to our village and island. I don't know who it is she's looking for, or what it is he took from her, but that does not matter, for I will not let her think that she can continue destroying our homes because of it!"

The villagers cheered, thought the three teachers were not convinced. "It's not like anything else has changed," Adrian groused quietly. "The only thing that has is that we have a human to worry about too."

"Hush," Clara warned, nudging his arm. "Listen."

"This meeting has been called because I want to form a plan," the chief continued. "We know that the Master's dragons are looming in the distance to the north. From that, we can plan our defenses appropriately and make sure that when the Master returns, it is for the fight of her miserable life. Now, based on what we know, she is using the already-hostile dragons against us to—"

"No we don't," Clara piped up. Everyone looked at her as she stood on a chair.

"What do you mean?" the chief frowned.

"Listen: I saw something the night the Master attacked that I don't know if I've ever seen before," she said. The chief furrowed his brow in puzzlement. "It was a leather collar, which burned up after the dragon wearing it died. There was no evidence within moments. I think…" She swallowed hard—this was going to be difficult to vocalize and even more difficult to get people to believe her. "…I think that the dragons might never have been acting on their own all these years. There's a good chance that they're being controlled, and that the Master—and certain people like her—have been responsible this entire time. We've just never realized it because of how concentrated we normally are on fighting for our lives, not to mention the fact it's something that could have always self-destructed before we cleared the fallen corpses."

The whole hall went deathly quiet—shit.

"This is quite the claim you're making," the chief said. "I take it you have further proof?"

"Not directly, but I have a map… one I think leads to her hideout," Clara stated. She pulled the piece of paper from her pocket and held it up. "One of my father's, but with the location of not only a stopover for water and rest, but an island out of many currents' reach. If I were to hide my brainwashed dragon army, that is where I'd do it."

The rest of the hall murmured quietly. After staring at Clara's face in an attempt to read it, the chief twitched his fingers. "Bring it here."

Head held high, Clara hopped down from the chair, marched up to the council's dais, and presented the map to the chief, watching him puzzle over the information in his hands. He passed it back to her, his expression one where she could tell he wanted to be convinced.

"How long have you known of this map?" he wondered.

"This map? With those islands? Not long."

Ha—not a complete lie.

"I knew your father for many years; how did a skilled navigator not bring this to our attention after decades in our midst?"

"It's likely he forgot about it, or thought that because the islands were not done in ink that it meant they did not truly exist," she explained. "There are many reasons he could be innocent, and far fewer that make him a suspect. This was deep in the back of our firebox—if this was something he actively wanted to keep from us, then he would have taken it along with him. I don't see use in giving my father any blame for an accident he likely doesn't even remember."

"True…" the chief mused. Clara smiled inwardly—all suspicion was off her father and was now centered on the mysterious map that was, previous to this, benign-seeming to a navigator talented enough that traders poached him from their midst. It was the fault of the map, not the one who previously owned it. "You have inherited much of your father's skill: in what direction do these mystery islands lie? This is not a common area well-known to me by sight."

"To the southwest, in the middle of the currents' dead zone."

"We charted there!" one of the council members replied. "How did it slip by us?! We are no fools!"

"Now's not the time to squabble over that!" another council member snapped. "Young Oswald has information that might be of use to us now, despite being seen as worthless before! For all we know, her father didn't mention it because we all thought those waters properly charted! Chief! Let her bring the map here!"

The chief nodded and motioned towards Clara. Holding out the paper, she silently offered the council's additional opinion of the piece. The senior-most navigator took it and examined the pencil markings; she nodded at the discovery.

"It's worth a shot," the navigator said. "Last time I was in those parts, I was a girl and not yet fully versed in charts—I think Young Oswald has something here… something of value that was hidden until very recently..."

"That's in a different direction than where the dragons are pacing in the sky," another council member noted, looking over the navigator's shoulder. "We should watch the north."

"We are talking about a woman who refers to herself as the Master," Clara reminded him. "She thinks that she can go ahead and trick us into thinking she'll attack from one direction and she'll go for another. Thanks to the distance, it's a manageable ploy."

"Then let's beat her at her own game," the chief decided. He stood, towering over most of the hall, which tensed in anticipation. "I say we sail out and meet her at her island! Catch her off-guard!"

The crowd cheered, while Clara gulped.

"No!" she gasped. "We should prepare here! Show her we did research and keep our southwest flank fortified!"

"We have little by way of things what cannot be hidden in fireboxes or in caves," the chief claimed. "Let's show her we mean business—we don't care who it is she is after or what they have stolen from her! We will not be the outlet for her temper tantrums any longer! Who's with me!"

There were very few in the great hall who did not yawp in delight. Taking the first step and meeting the dragons on their island instead of waiting for them to destroy their hard-built homes? It was such a novel idea that most of the adults were swept up in a new, exhilarating sort of excitement. Clara's stomach twisted as she watched most of her village pour out of the hall and towards the docks—there was nothing stopping them.

"Shit—what do we do now…?" Danny wondered. Clara looked at him and Adrian and exhaled heavily.

"We gather the students and keep the younger ones in the shelter, the older ones tending to the flocks," she said. Soon there were none in the hall save the three of them and a few on the kitchens' side who were preparing wares for the journey. "I mentioned it so we could lay proper traps and prepare, not for them to head out and possibly get caught in the middle of the ocean."

"Maybe if you tell the chief that's a possibility…?" Adrian offered. Clara shook her head.

"You've been here longer than we have; how likely is that to happen?" He shrugged, grimacing. "Exactly. We knew what we were getting into when we decided to be the ones who got left behind. This is a different sort of bravery."

"...the sort that continues the story for generations who come later," Danny added. Adrian shrugged; he couldn't argue that. Danny wobbled as he stood and leaned against his cane, still not used to the prosthetic. "Come on—it doesn't take a genius to know we have to start gathering those hellions now in order to get them all in that cave before the Master is supposed to return."

"No kidding," Adrian replied, rolling his eyes. They really did have a thankless job.

Late that night, Clara was finally able to sneak back to her house. It had been a long day of sorting provisions and assigning students varying roles, but it was done for the time being, and she was glad. It was likely going to be the last night she could truly spend in her own home, as she mentally was preparing herself to need another rebuild soon.

"What kept you?" the Doctor wondered as she walked into the house. It was dark and cold, as there was no fire in the hearth; if he had made one then they would have been found out. "The kids weren't that bad in the cave, were they?"

"The plan backfired, alright?" she grumbled. "All I meant to do was to get the village to lay some extra traps, maybe go and send a scouting party at the worst… not this…" She put their dinner on the table and proceeded to not touch her portion. "They're almost all going to try to surprise Velda."

"I heard—the devils won't make it past the outcropping."

"Wait… I told you to stay out of sight!"

"I did! Idris is extremely good at camouflage us both, aren't you?" The Doctor skritched his dragon on the nose and she purred in delight. "See? She agrees."

"You could have been caught!"

"I was roof-hopping—no one looks up when they're concentrating on the sea," he reasoned. "Besides, I got to see a lot of the village that way, in the daytime as well. You have some rather advanced mechanical weaponry despite the fact many of you look like they can tear the wings right off a Gobnobber."

"Not everyone is born able to lift an axe or pike, and fewer yet have the time to train for it," she reasoned, her emotions beginning to roil. "We're not just fighters, but engineers, carpenters, architects; we fish and herd sheep and even farm a couple crops, but fighting…? We're not all born for it. Even those of us who fight aren't all born for it." As she spoke, she could feel something building inside of her—anger, rage, and heartbreak. "You think you know everything about us after a day of sneaking around in the shadows, don't you?"

"Clara, I…"

"...then why did Danny give up fighting? He was one of our best. Guess why?"

"Clara, please…"

"A child died," she said. "He took up the role of warrior so that none of the children needed to fear their safety around the dragons as he did, and yet a child was still murdered—possibly by one of your sister's dragons—only a few feet away from him. His fighting a dragon sent it off in the child's direction and he died moments later. It broke Danny."

"You think that it didn't break me?!" he snapped back. "I lost my wife, my daughter, my family; I lost my sister to that madwoman! To the very creatures I was taught were there to protect us! Do you realize how that feels?!" He looked at her in a mixture of confusion and outrage. "Don't go blaming me for things that happened while I was not around."

At that, she nearly lost it. "Did you ever think, All Powerful Dragon Lord, that maybe a lot of it did happen because you weren't around?!" Clara was beginning to shake—what was making her like this? How much fury from over the years was being just released? "You never challenged Velda after that day—you never went looking for a body to burn—and now look at where we're at! She very possibly could have been orchestrating attacks on Berk since I was a child! Even before my parents thought of bringing me here! You say that you took the title of Doctor because you wanted to help people; well now, tell me why did you hide in the shadows for so many years?"

"You try losing everything you have in a single day!"

"...and if you were found out today, then I would have lost what little I have left!"

The room went silent and the only sound was the soft padding of Idris's feet as she went up the stairs to hide in the bedroom. Clara and the Doctor exchanged confused glares, not knowing what to think of the other.

"You have everything," he said. "You have a home, a village, a community, an occupation, a life… you have friends who love and care about you."

"...and if they found out earlier that I was hiding you here, their backs would all turn and I would have nothing, not even the chance to control the backlash or redeem myself, despite claims that they don't care about you or Velda's vendetta," she elaborated. "I would truly have nothing… not even you."

"Why would you say that?"

"What else would you do? A man used to a life of running? I brought you here knowing that, taking a chance on it, and expecting full-well that there will be a day when you and that dragon of yours just vanishes from the island because it no longer suits you and your survivor complex… and don't tell me you don't have one either. No one who runs does so on a clear conscious."

"Then why don't you go after someone more your speed?" he snapped. "You claimed Danny's your friend; I hear it's better to nurture a friendship into something more."

"As much as I care about Danny, I've never had the time."

"For what? Flirting?"

"No: flirting with anything less than a mountain range."

Clara exhaled, finally realizing she was holding her breath. It eased little of the tension in her, so she decided to remove bits of the equation.

"Stay here; I'm sleeping in the shelter."

That struck him. "Clara, I'm…"

"Stay here." She took her portion of their dinner and stormed out of the house, leaving him alone.

Velda could find the moron for all she cared at this point. She stomped over to the waterfall and went inside, where Danny and Adrian were already helping the younger of their students get themselves ready for bed, prepping bed rolls and finding stuffed toys for tiny arms to hug in the night. Both men noticed how cross she seemed, though chose not to mention anything. Instead they allowed her to join their efforts without question, glad that they now had her expertise rejoining their ranks. By the time everyone would wake up in the morning, the majority of the island residents would be gone—it would be only them and a scant guard of those who long ago left their sailing days behind them.

The adults in the shelter—and even some of their students—knew how precarious a situation they were in, and none of them liked any of it.

Later on that night, after the small children were long asleep and the older children and teens were settled in, the three adults decided who was to take shifts. Danny got first shift, then Clara, then Adrian; should one of the elderly watch members spot a dragon on the horizon, there needed to be someone conscious to wake the other two and make sure the cave was under lockdown. No one cared if the entire village became cinders and charcoal—as long as the children were safe and the herds hidden in the forest with some of the teens, then they could rebuild.

The cave was quiet as Clara woke to begin her shift on watch. She maneuvered her way through the maze and mounds of sleeping children to where Danny sat huddled next to a small campfire. Sitting down next to him, she watched as he prodded at the embers with a metal poker.

"It's so odd, isn't it?" he wondered quietly. "How you found that map."

"What do you mean?" she replied, trying to not give herself away. "Dad just overlooked it somehow. It's like trying to find the book you need and it only popping up when someone else looks."

"Something still doesn't seem right about it," he admitted. He glanced over at Clara and smiled—the one he felt knew him better than she might have even known herself. "Someone must have been trying to pull one over on your dad if what you say is true."

"Are you calling me a liar?" She raised an eyebrow at him, which he returned in due kind, making her gasp in false outrage. "When did I ever lie to you?"

"How about when I as twelve and you were nine and you tried to tell me that what ended up being itchy-leaf was a good material to make a play-cape out of?"

"I'm still wondering why you believed me," she smirked. He did chuckle at that, putting him more at-ease. Yes… this is what she would have missed if the Doctor had been caught, and there was no way she was getting rid of such a concept as a childhood friend that easily. "At least we have some decent salves for itchy-leaf in the village."

"I hate to think about what it would have been like had there not been."

"Who knows?" she shrugged. Her only hope now was that her dad would not come back with the traders until at least after they were rid of Velda. She patted Danny on the knee of his good leg and motioned towards the beds. "I think it's time you got your sleep—they'll give us hell to pay in the morning if we're not well-rested."

"Feck, you're right," he grimaced. At that, Danny eased himself up to his feet and nodded at Clara. "Until morning."

"Until morning," she echoed. She watched him as he hobbled slightly on his way to where his bedroll was laid out, nearby where Adrian had his amongst the sea of problem students they needed to keep close watch over, noting how smooth his gait was for someone recovering from a recent limb amputation. His movements were impressive—almost eerie—for the turn-around period he had been given. There was not a doubt in her mind that should Velda make it past the others in the longships, that he would be fighting each and every dragon nearly as skillfully as though his right leg had always been missing. She hoped it wouldn't come to that, especially not with who she had hiding in her house.

...that was right. The Doctor was still in her house, trapped there after she had told him off earlier. There was a chance that he and Idris could get away, and an even greater chance it be under the cover of darkness, and the thought of it made her huff in irritation. She could most likely still be there, with him, as infuriating as he was, sharing time before his sister attempted to wage war on Berk in earnest. Her mind went back to the prior night and them scrunched up together in her bed, the thought of it making her face run hot as she thought of much naughtier than what they had done. Sleeping soundly on a mattress after years of beds of moss and grasses was leagues tamer than what she imagined she could do to him once he adjusted properly… that was, if he stayed around long enough to adjust properly. The thought of him in her bed without even the comfort of knowing she was going to be joining him to sleep? It was enough to make her stab at a crumbling piece of wood in the fire, the white ash yielding to the poker with disturbing ease.

Maybe, she thought as she watched the flames crackle and spark, she should see about him later on, during Adrian's shift… see if the Doctor was still around or if he had flown away as she said he would eventually. That way, at least, if she was right and he and Idris flew off soon, there was a chance there would at least be no ill will. Life was too short for hate, and she hoped that she wasn't too late, because as much as she hated to admit it… he wasn't wrong about wandering around utilizing Idris's chameleon reflex. He might not have been right, but it wasn't right to scold him for it either. They needed to part on at least somewhat-decent terms, for her own conscious if anything.

She looked over the multitude of sleeping children and her coworkers and knew that—yes—she needed to do something… and hopefully until her shift was over was not going to be too late.