Many many thanks to Aleteia for her valuable advice regarding the plot and various elements in this story. Thank you also to my wonderful Betas, as always. Enjoy!

"Lort."

The syllable echoes in the air. In the short silence that follows, the siblings continue to stare at each other.

"Ouch," says the boy in front of them.

They both jump.

"I mean, I know my name sounds bad," he clarifies sheepishly, "but I didn't think it would warrant a swear word." He gives an awkward chuckle, which is cut abruptly short by a gulp as the siblings turn to stare at him instead.

Finn can see him trying to speak, to crack another joke, but can't bring himself to care all that much. He feels dizzy—is dizzy. A hundred thousand thoughts seem to flicker in his brain, mixing and matching, trying to merge the two: the frail, timid kid in front of him, and the towering High-Chief in his mind's eye, fur-caped and with a full beard that tickled when planting kisses. They can't be the same person, they just can't—

Maybe it's all an elaborate coincidence, he thinks, a tad bit desperate. A long-lost cousin who got left behind on Old Berk during the Exodus. It could happen, right?

But oh, who is he kidding? He's grasping at straws here: the moment the names matched up, he knew. The freckles, the hair, the lanky build. The nasally voice, the sarcastic tone, eyes that mirror his own. The arms that, even when tied up, seem to strain against the ropes in a subconscious attempt to gesture. It's all there, all those details he saw but didn't notice—unmistakably, fundamentally… Dad.

His throat suddenly seems to close. He turns to his sister and opens his mouth.

"Don't ask me how," she cuts in, holding up a hand. "I don't know how."

"But…" he stammers, "so… he's really…"

"Oh yes."

"I mean, you also think—"

"Yup."

"I figured he'd be taller," he mutters. "Are you sure we're not just dreaming?"

The question only earns him a jab on his injured leg.

"Ow!"

"Evidently not," Zeph quips.

Finn cannot help himself. "But how?"

Zeph sighs. "I told you Finky, I don't know how."

Finn shakes his head, faint. He turns back, only to find emerald eyes squinting at him in puzzlement, foreign yet so incredibly familiar.

"Hey, I don't know how, either," their owner says with a shrug. "I guess one day some ancestor of mine decided that Hiccup's a good name. Vikings, you know?" He grins. "It's actually not as bad as most of the other kids'. Trust me!"

Finn blinks, momentarily confused, before forcing himself to laugh.

"We're not talking about your name," he explains weakly. "We're talking about, uh…" he trails off.

Gods, what does he even say? 'Hey, guess what, you're my dad! And by the way, I've always wondered, why did you name me Nuffink?'

Yeah, right. Zeph would probably kill him if he said that (though he has to admit, he is kind of curious).

Still, the fact of the matter remains: this, this kid… will become his—

"So… what were you talking about again?"

Finn gives a start, belatedly remembering they're still in the middle of a conversation. What were they talking about again? Names? He knows he really has to say something soon, but his mind remains frustratingly blank.

Come on, Finn, stop being such a nitwit! By Thor, he could really use some time alone to let everything sink in. Getting himself to stop freaking out would be a nice bonus—he's so jittery that it's very hard to think, and his fa—the kid's curious gaze is definitely not helping matters.

"Uh, erm," he stammers, "we were talking about, erm…" He throws his sister a not-so-subtle look: Help!

She rolls her eyes, exasperated, but comes to the rescue anyway. "We were talking about a cousin of ours," she says firmly. "You look a lot like him." Then, to Finn, "I suppose you can untie him, for starters."

Finn nods vigorously. "Right!" He springs into action, grateful for the task. His head is still buzzing, so he decides to leave all the thinking to her until he's had a chance to calm down.

"Woah woah woah, wait just a second," their captive interjects, doubt etched into his brows. "You guys are untying me? What sort of trickery is this?"

"There's no trickery. Hurry up, Finky."

"I find that hard to believe!" the kid protests. "I mean, not that I like being tied up or anything, but a moment ago you were talking about cutting my arm off! Or did you forget that part?"

Finn shuffles guiltily, and opts to concentrate on the knots.

Zeph snorts. "We weren't serious! Plus, it's not like we really need rope to stop you; you're obviously not dangerous."

"What?" the kid sputters, actually looking indignant. "I can be plenty dangerous!"

The siblings look at him blankly.

"Uh-huh," Zeph says a moment later. "Sure. Very dangerous. You done there, Finky?"

Finn nods. Despite their captive's skepticism, there's no real resistance, and he makes short work of the rope, which falls with a thud onto the moss-covered ground.

"Er, what now?" he whispers.

"Hel if I know." She combs a hand through her bangs. "Actually, you know what?"

He doesn't have time to ask—a heartbeat later, he yelps, already stumbling sideways, her grip hooked forcefully under his arm.

"Zeph!" he grumbles, struggling to keep pace hopping on his one good leg.

"We need to talk," she replies tersely. "Alone."

"Wait, what about me?" the kid shouts from their backs. "Am I free to go?"

"Nope," Zeph says, showing no signs of slowing. Behind her, Finn hops awkwardly along, trying his best not to trip, and another short distance away the young Night Fury follows them both, curiosity in its green eyes.

The kid makes a noise of disbelief—Finn does a double-take, for that one little syllable sounded almost exactly like Dad—and blurts: "But you untied me!"

Zeph sighs. "Just because we untied you, doesn't mean—"

Here she stops abruptly, which sends him crashing into her with a disgruntled 'oof'. Toothless sniffs and stops as well. She takes a deep breath and turns around.

"Alright. Let me rephrase that. You, er—" she visibly winces— "H-Hiccup—"

"Eugh," Finn shudders, "how can you even call him that?"

"Call me what?" the kid asks, confused. "Hiccup? But that's my name?"

"Uh, yes, we know," Zeph says, squeezing out a smile. "Which is why we're gonna call you that from now on." She fixes her brother with a pointed glare.

Finn groans. "But it's so weird!"

Evidently the kid heard that. "It's okay," he says to Finn, chuckling. "You can call me what you want. I guess my name's really that strange to you, huh?"

Despite the smile, Finn recognizes a well-concealed flash of hurt in those green eyes, which sends his stomach into a knot.

He scrambles for a response. "Sorry! I didn't mean—I mean, your name, I—"

"He didn't mean it that way," Zeph finishes for him, then gives him a hard stomp for good measure.

"Ow," he complains, half-hearted. "That's my good leg…"

"Just shut up," she hisses and gestures to the kid, who still looks crestfallen. "Look what you've done!"

Finn hangs his head. "I said I'm sorry! I was just really weirded out by, you know… you calling him that."

"Well, what else are we supposed to call him?" she snaps. "Dad?"

"Huh?" says their father, looking up. "What dad?"

The siblings cringe, rather violently.

"Yeah," Finn mutters weakly. "Let's just call him Hiccup." He sighs. "Uhm. H-Hiccup?"

The kid is still looking at them. "Hmm?"

Finn rifles a hand through his hair. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make fun of your name or, or imply it's bad or anything." Then, with as much sincerity he could muster: "It's a great name. Honest."

Hiccup looks a bit taken aback, but a heartbeat later he smiles, this time genuine. "Thanks."

Finn couldn't help it—he lets out a toothy grin of his own, almost identical, and for a moment the sunlight is caught between their eyes, forest-green on forest-green, and he can see the warm silhouette of his father shining through, like looking at a sapling and seeing a mighty tree.

"Alright, apology done," Zeph says, and the moment is gone. "Anyway, Hiccup, we, uh, we're sorry we tied you up. Also, Finky?" she adds in a whisper, "I think I'm doing the talking from now on."

He nods sheepishly, just as Hiccup appears to snap out of it.

"Ah," the brown-haired boy says, blinking. "Come again?"

"We're sorry we tied you up," his sister repeats. "I hope you'll forgive us."

"Oh!" Hiccup says, suddenly flustered for some reason—Finn thinks he can even see a blush. "Uh, sure? I mean, there was no harm done, right?"

"Right," Zeph says. "And I know you have a lot of questions, but my brother and I, we… uh, just got off a shipwreck—"

"We did?"

"What did I just say?"

"Let you do the talking." Finn clasps a hand over his lips. "Sorry."

Zeph sighs. "Please excuse us; he's been a bit out of it since the wreck."

"Uh-huh," Hiccup says, still red-faced and stuttering. Then he frowns. "Wait, a shipwreck? Were there—"

"No. We… we were the only survivors."

Finn really has to hand it to her; she actually manages to look devastated. There's just the right amount of tremor in her voice, and she even drapes an arm across his shoulder to tug him close. Then again, playing the leading role in the past three Snoggletog Pageants probably counted for a lot.

And just as well, for Hiccup is obviously sold.

"I'm so sorry," he says gently, and Finn rolls his eyes. "What can I do to help? I mean, if you allow me to leave, I can get someone from my village and—"

"Nono, no," Zeph says quickly. "We're mostly fine. Just waiting for my brother's leg to heal up."

"Are you sure? You guys would be welcome. We could send someone to look for your ship and any other survivors, once my father comes home. Don't give up!"

"Thank you, but we can manage. Plus, we wouldn't want to inconvenience your village." She smiles at him, and his freckled cheeks flush with several shades of pink. "My name's Zephyr, by the way. And this is Nuffink."

"Ah," Hiccup says. "It's n-nice to finally meet you guys." He clears his throat and fumbles about a bit, probably trying to hide his embarrassment—he really is quite easy to embarrass, Finn thinks.

"Likewise," she replies. "Now if you'll excu—"

"Where are you from?" Hiccup blurts.

Zeph blinks. Her mouth hangs open, like a haddock out of water.

"Uhhh…" she says, "we're from… uhhh…" She glances at Finn, who shrugs and covers his mouth—she did say to let her do the talking, after all—which turns her glance into a glare. Unfazed, Finn wriggles his brows in Hiccup's direction—the kid is still looking at her expectantly, waiting for a response.

She huffs indignantly and gives her brother one of her looks (the kind that says I'll-get-you-later-for-this), before wiping away all expression on her face and wheeling back to Hiccup.

"We're from Eretville," she says, deadpan, and Finn finds himself thrown into a sudden coughing fit.

Naturally, Hiccup doesn't suspect a thing. "Eretville? Can't say I've heard of it before. Uhm, w-where is it?"

"It's to the southeast," Zeph says breezily. "It's a tiny place, I'd be surprised if you have heard of it."

"Oh, we haven't really gone in that direction before. We were always more focused on the northwest, because that's where we think drag… er, never mind." He shuffles his feet. "So uh, I bet y-you've been to loads of places, eh?"

"Actually, no. We don't travel much."

"Oh. What brings you here, then?"

That appears to stump her, and she pauses. Just when Finn finally controls his 'cough' and is beginning to wonder if she'll manage to get them out of this one, she lets out a world-weary sigh.

"I'm sorry," she says quietly, at once strong and sorrowful. "It's just, we've been through a lot the past couple days, and lost virtually everyone… So these things are difficult to talk about."

Finn's cough comes back dramatically, and he barely manages to force himself to half-turn away, rasping for air.

"Aww, Finky," his sister says sadly, patting him on the back. "Don't cry. I know it hurts."

Finn is now fighting for breath, and beginning to think he might die.

"I understand," Hiccup says, his voice solemn. "My Dad, he was the same way when my Mum was—anyway, he's a really tough man, but he still cried, so I know these feelings can get to anyone. It's no shame to cry."

"Yes, it's no shame to cry. You hear that, Finky?" Vindictively, she gives him a light tickle, which instantly sends him over.

"Pfft," he says, and immediately has to clamp his nose so no further noise escapes. Zeph shakes her head.

"I'm so sorry. Would you please give us a moment, Hiccup?"

"Of course," the boy answers, low. "You sure you don't want me to go fetch someone?"

"Nah, we can manage. Right, Finky?"

"Pfft," Finn says, wishing he could kick her into the lake. He gives her the meanest stare he could conjure (without dissolving into laughter), which she meets with a mirthful wink.

Hiccup, on the other hand, remains painfully oblivious. "If you say so," he says, still plainly concerned. "If there's anything I or my village can do, just let me know."

"We're fine," Zeph smiles. "Thank you. Plus, from what you told us, your village… doesn't take too kindly to dragons. I'm worried about what they'll do to Toothless here."

"Oh," Hiccup says, sneaking a glance at the dragon. Then his voice instantly switches to excitement. "Actually I've been meaning to ask you about that! All my life I've known dragons to be these terrifying beasts, but when I met you guys, and saw you guys play with… Wait… Tooth-what? I thought his name was Nighty?"

The dragon, who had been resting about five feet next to them and listening in on the conversation with idle interest, perks up upon hearing the name.

Finn, who is just managing to recover from that horrible bout of laughter, freezes.

Oops.

His sister throws him a positively murderous glare.

"No, his name is Toothless," she announces. She then turns to the dragon. "Tooth-less, okay? Your name is Toothless."

Toothless warbles and tilts his head.

"Toothless? Since when?"

Finn would feel bad for Hiccup if he wasn't so busy feeling bad for himself—the kid looks utterly confused.

"Tooth-less," Zeph repeats, ignoring him. "Toothless."

The dragon shows no sign of comprehension.

"Er," Hiccup pipes up, "can I just ask—"

"No."

"But, but that name makes no sense—"

Finn shakes his head frantically. Shut up shut up shut up, he wills Hiccup, but alas...

"I mean, Nighty has teeth, right?"

Once again Toothless croons in reaction, and Finn feels himself wither.

"Odin help me," his sister mutters. She gives a great sigh. "You know what? I really need to talk with my brother." And with that, she is already in stride. "Finky, with me, now. Hiccup, can you wait there? Toothless, you too. No, stay, stay—"

Finn looks back to see the Night Fury padding after them as they walk. Zeph waves at him, trying to motion him away, but he assaults her with his big green eyes, and there's no more to be done.

"… fine, you can come. Gods this is such a mess."

She throws Finn another dirty glance.

"Finky, just so you know, you are never naming anything, ever again."

ooo

"Alright, let's go over this one more time. We were on a trading trip when we got blown off-course by a storm. As far as we know, no one else survived. When did we set sail?"

"A week ago," Finn says, rolling his eyes. "Which we actually did."

"And when was the storm?"

"Yesterday," he intones. "Which it actually was."

"And who else was on our ship?"

"Our parents," he drawls. "Which they obviously were." He tosses a branch onto the pile of twigs and dead leaves they've been gathering for the past eighth-eykt or so. "Come on, Zeph, get to the good part already! In fact, why can't we just make up a completely new cover story, from scratch? That'd be so much fun!"

She gives him a sidelong glance. "And if we did, do you honestly think you can keep yourself from slipping up?"

Finn opens his mouth.

"Are you sure?"

Finn closes his mouth.

"Precisely my point," Zeph says, smug. She snaps a branch in half against her thigh and adds it to the woodpile. "The fewer details we change, the less likely it'll be for us to make mistakes."

He gives a great sigh. "Fine. I guess you're right."

"I always am," she preens jokingly, and he makes a face.

They are currently in a secluded corner of the Cove (where they're sure Hiccup can't overhear), discussing their next step. They wanted to go back to the little alcove they used earlier to shelter from the rain, but Toothless insisted on poking his head through its small opening, which almost caused another rockslide, and they had no choice but to talk in the open.

"Hey, why do we need a cover story anyway?" Finn wonders offhandedly. "Why can't we just tell him who we are?" He nods in the direction of the lake. On the other side of its glittering surface, their father sits on a mossy rock, doodling away in the mud.

Like he often did, he was mostly thinking out loud, and wasn't really expecting an answer—but then Zeph snorts.

"Don't be ridiculous, Finky."

It's only then that he starts to seriously consider his own proposal.

"Why not, though? I mean, there's just him."

"Because he's smart, which you know as well as I do, and we've dropped enough hints already. If we want to keep our identity a secret, and stop him from babbling to other people, we need a cover."

"But what harm could that do? He's… family? Kind of? Just think about it! I bet he'll love it if we told him. Wouldn't you want to know everything that happens in the future, if you had the chance? Like how you'll do as Chief, or if Uncle Tuff ever manages to grow a beard?"

She looks like she wants to say something, but he speaks faster and faster, feeling the familiar tendrils of excitement gripping him. The more he thinks about the idea, the better it becomes.

"Or, or we could tell him all about his adventures with Uncle Toothy! Like he told us! We could tell him he'll be a great hero and the High-Chief and unite the Archipelago, and save everyone from Drago and Grimmel and the Warlords and the Oathbreakers!"

"Finky—" his sister says, but he's too abuzz with energy to pay attention. Can't she see how perfect it all is?

"We can also tell him about the Hidden World!" he continues, arms frantically waving and gesturing. "And he can protect it from everyone, and maybe the dragons wouldn't have to leave! And, and we can tell him about the funny stuff, too, like that story Mum told us, about them flying for the first time?"

"Finky—" his sister says, "I'm not sure—"

"—Oh and the first Yaknog Contest, where he got dunked into a whole barrel of yaknog! Oh my gods, what about that time when Uncle Tuff went around impersonating him for a whole day while he was in the forge, and nobody noticed?"

"Finky—" she tries again, but he beams at her.

"Oh, come on, Zeph! Can you imagine his face? It'll be hilarious! Or we could—"

"Nuffink! Stop!"

Finn jumps. His sister is panting, trembling even, and her braids heave with her every breath. There's something in her eyes, blue and blazing, something that makes him shrink back. Beside him, Toothless warbles with concern.

"Just, stop," she says again. "Hilarious? Hilarious?" She jabs her finger at his chest. "Is this some kind of a joke to you? Or one of your games?"

He opens his mouth, wanting to say something. No words come.

"We woke up in a different place," she says, lower but also faster, more urgent. "I don't know why. I don't know how. Maybe it's all an illusion, or some sort of spell. Maybe the gods did this. Maybe we're not even on Midgard anymore. But whatever this is, we've been here two days already. I was a fool not to notice; the Cove is so different, and yesterday when we met Toothless, the ground was dry after such heavy rain."

She takes a shuddering breath. "Two days. What happens… back home, while we're gone? What happens to Mum and Dad? What will they think? Have you thought about that?"

Finn shakes his head, a bit sick. The anger in her voice has faded somewhat, but the disappointment that takes its place hits him hard, and he feels naive and young and foolish.

"And what if we never find our way back?" she continues. "What if we stayed here, trapped in this, this world, or time, whatever it is? I don't know where we are, I don't know why we're here, but I'm scared. This isn't a joke, Finky. I know it's amazing to have met Da—to have met Hiccup, and trust me, there are so many questions I want to ask him, too, but…"

She exhales, long and exhausted. "... but he's not Dad. Not our Dad, the one who'll be looking for us and worrying himself silly. So for now, we just need to focus on getting home. Okay?"

Her voice has softened, but Finn feels wretched still. Toothless seems to sense his distress, and moves his head closer, breath hot and very fishy. The small gesture makes him feel better, if only a little.

"Sorry," he croaks out.

Zeph scratches Toothless idly on the chin. "And I'm sorry I yelled at you." She says, reaching out with her other hand to ruffle his hair. "We're in this together, Finky-poo."

Her touch and words give him more comfort than he cares to admit. Belatedly he realizes how stupid he's been, to let the novelty of their situation and his own fascination lower his guard. He's lucky to have her here, he thinks, to talk for him, reason for him, and lead the way for him; because he would've been hopeless on his own. He's used to following her footsteps, after all.

"Thanks, Zeph," he mutters.

She laughs. "Woah, where'd that come from?"

He shakes his head, hoping she doesn't see the blush. "Never mind! Anyway, what should we do next?"

She raises an eyebrow at the forced transition, but mercifully doesn't tease him further. "We stay put," she answers simply.

Her words are firm and at all not what he expected. "Stay put?"

"Yup. We stay, here, in the Cove."

He frowns. "Why? There's nothing here."

"On the contrary, there's the lake, and fish, and stuff we can burn." She gestures at the woodpile. "Plus, Toothless is here, so we don't even need flint."

"I meant there's no people here."

"There's us," she points out. "And Toothless, and Hiccup."

Finn throws up his hands. "You know what I'm trying to say! We can't really do anything here. Shouldn't we be working on getting home, instead of staying here sitting on our bums?"

A smile tugs at her lips. "What do you propose, then?"

"I'unno. But we obviously won't be getting home by ourselves."

"And why not?"

"Well, we probably need help!"

"From who?" Her smile hasn't changed. If anything, it's turning into a smirk.

"I'unno! Maybe we can try to find out why this happened," he suggests, before an idea strikes him. "Hey! This whole thing is kinda like a Saga so far, right? So maybe we can get help, like all the heroes did in those stories, from gods and elves and spells and dragons! And then we can…" He trails off and scratches his head.

Zeph snorts. "If you know how to find any of those, by all means please do. I think this is a good time for some supernatural intervention."

"We do have a dragon handy," he protests sheepishly, patting Toothless' snout. The young dragon sniffs and gives his hand a small lick. "That counts for something, right?"

Zeph laughs. "Yeah… I don't think Toothless will be of much use, especially when he still responds to the wrong name."

"Fine. But we could still get help from, y'know, people, right? If not for getting home, then at least food and shelter. Why should we stay here?"

She sighs. "Finky, other people can't help with our problem. Because, as bizarre as this is, there has to be a cause for all this. Not necessarily a reason, you know, but a cause. Some kind of trigger."

"But earlier when I asked you how it all happened, you said—"

"That I didn't know. And I still don't know. But I've been thinking." She leans closer. "When do you reckon we got… transported, for lack of a better word? When did everything start feeling different? Is there an event we can pin down as the cause of all this? Think about it, Finky."

He does so, and not a heartbeat later, the answer emerges, at once obvious.

"The thunderstorm!"

"Exactly. And I think we need the same scenario to happen in order to go home."

"So, like… another storm?"

"Not just another storm. We should stay in the same spot too, to be on the safe side. That's why I said to stay put."

Finn nods sagely. "I guess that makes sense. Things don't end well for people who mess with magical rituals."

"We don't know that it's magic," his sister says cautiously. "All we know right now is that it happened during the storm, while we were sleeping, and here in the Cove. We just need to recreate those conditions."

He rolls his eyes. "Oh, come on. We just met Hiccup, for Thor's sake. That seems pretty magicky to me." Then he beams. "Hey, speaking of Thor, maybe he was the one who sent us here, with the thunderstorm and all. It makes perfect sense!"

"It's a possibility," she concedes reluctantly. "But it doesn't matter who, it just matters why."

"Well, the why part is clearly magic; and if we're dealing with magical stuff, wouldn't it be better to get help from people who understand it? Someone from a temple, maybe? Or seers? A gothi? Our Gothi?"

Zeph shakes her head. "The only person we will find here would be the Gothi from this world, and I'm not sure she would be very receptive. According to the Annals, she used to preside over the Dragon Sacrifices!"

Finn's face twists in disgust. He had forgotten about that. The Berkian Annals always put him to sleep.

"So," his sister continues, "let's just wait out the next few days, until we get another thunderstorm. It's summer; there shouldn't be a shortage of them. Sounds fair?"

He doesn't quite like that idea, because it sounds dreadfully boring, but grudgingly admits that he has nothing better to offer.

"Fine. So what do we do with Hiccup, then?" he asks, gesturing at the boy, who had left the lakeside and was busy marking things down in his sketchbook. "We can't keep him here with us while we wait."

Zeph shrugs. "I guess he can leave—after we make sure he doesn't tell the village about Toothless. You've seen the old Book of Dragons in our attic. You should know how things are between Vikings and dragons before Dad changed it all."

Finn thinks back to the pages in that heavyset tome, fraying at its edges. One of the most-repeated phrases in the whole thing was 'kill on sight', which pretty much sums up the attitude of his ancestors when dealing with dragons. He shudders.

"Yeah… good idea." He turns to give the dragon a playful tug on the corners of the mouth. "Cause we don't want you hurt, don't we, Toothy?"

Toothless chuffs, sticks out a warm pink tongue, and proceeds to deposit a large dollop of sticky spittle all over his face. He laughs and flings the drool at Zeph, who hops nimbly away.

"Let's get back to our cover story," she says, smiling at their antics. "It's almost supper time, and I don't think Hiccup would want to spend the night here. The sooner we make up this stuff, the sooner we can let him leave."

"As you wish, Zephyr, Daughter of Eret." He makes a face. "Eugh, that sounds so strange."

"You'll just have to deal with it, Son of Eret." She giggles. "Don't worry, Uncle Eret will forgive us."

"It's just… you could've chosen literally any other name!"

"Not really! Uncle Eret is the only Councilor Dad hasn't met already; can you imagine what would happen if I told him we were Jorgensons, or Thorstons, or Ingermans? He'd want to introduce us to the others, and then what would we do?"

"Okay, okay," Finn says, holding up his hands. "You have a point. But Eretville? Seriously? And you say I come up with bad names."

She flings a handful of dried leaves at him. "I had to think fast, okay? As for naming, at least I didn't come up with you-know-what."

He pokes at a piece of wood they chopped up the day before, disgruntled. "Well, how was I to know he'd turn out to be Toothless? You should've said something, Uncle Toothy," he adds to the dragon, who is lazily inspecting a leaf that has gotten on the tip of his nose.

"You still shouldn't have just gone and named him," Zeph retorts, giving the young Fury a rub on his chin. "Honestly, what made you think Nighty—"

Toothless, previously drowsy and content and enjoying the scratches, raises his head at the name, purring in question.

Zeph winces. "My bad. Ugh, that's going to take some time to sink in. I guess we're done with this anyway. All yours, Toothy." She gestures a few times between the dragon and the woodpile, before Toothless gets it. He gurgles; a blue-white glow begins to emanate from his open mouth, and a second later a tiny burst of flame shoots out and lands in the middle of the pile. It takes hardly a heartbeat for the whole thing to catch, and after some prodding to adjust the position of the logs, they soon have a nice medium-sized campfire.

"Good job, Toothless!" Finn says, giving the dragon another nice scratch. Toothless snorts in appreciation, repays the gesture with a small lick, and goes to settle down near the flames, looking pleased with himself. Finn chuckles. He hops over to a rock-covered pit they made earlier, where half a dozen lakefish thrashes in the shallow water. He grabs two by their tails. "Hey Zeph, are we done with our cover story? Cause we should invite Hiccup over for supper."

"Well, most of the stuff we've already gone over," she shrugs. "You just need to remember which details we're not changing, and which ones we're actually making up." Catching the fish he tossed at her, she quickly stuns it with a slap and goes to work descaling their supper. "For example, what do we say if Hiccup asks us why we're so familiar with dragons?"

"Our village can train them," he says, remembering what they'd agreed on earlier. He tosses the other fish to Toothless, who snatches it out of the air, then grabs another two from the pit—one for him, one for Hiccup. "We can even show him some tricks if he wants to learn."

"Mhm. And what about Toothless? What if he asks why we're so friendly with Toothless?"

Finn grins. "We tell him that our Dad is friends with a Night Fury called Toothless. Easy. And true, too!" He makes his way back to the fire and joins his sister in the preparations.

She nods. "Good. Now, final question: what do we tell him when he leaves to go back to the village?"

"That he should keep everything a secret, especially Toothless, and that we—"

Here he pauses, and thinks, and stands up. His stomach sinks.

"Go on?" Zeph prompts, then looks up at the sudden movement. "Finky?" she nudges him with her foot. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't know what to say. He points to Toothless—who has already finished the fish and has gone over to the pit in search for more—then looks back at her, dismayed. He gestures at the Cove all around them.

His sister frowns. "Huh? I don't get it. Talk to me, Finky."

"We can't go back," he croaks out. "Not yet."

"What? What are you on about?"

"We can't go back home. We have to get to the village."

"What do you mean? I thought I told you, we need to focus on getting home, why—"

"Because Toothless!" Finn all but yells. "He can't fly; not yet, not until Da-Hiccup builds him his tail. He's trapped in the Cove, Zeph." His voice is tight. "If we go back to our world… he might die."

She frowns. "No, that's ridiculous. He didn't die in our world, when Dad got to him all those years ago, so why would he die in this one? Hiccup is here in this world; we can entrust Toothless to him, and everything will be fine."

Finn shakes his head vehemently. "How can you know that? You said it yourself: the worlds are different. We're here in this world, so things must have played out differently than it had in our world, already." He gestures, at everything and nothing, trying to convey his thoughts. "Maybe in this world Hiccup will never think to build a tail. Maybe in this world he will kill a dragon in dragon training and never come back to the Cove. For all we know, he might never even become a rider, and everyone dies fighting the Red Death!"

"What?" Zeph laughs. "How could he not become a dragon rider? It's… part of him. His soul!" She grins. "You know what Mum always says: flying and dragon-riding are woven into his fate by the Nornir!" Her voice turns gentle. "Finky, this isn't our world. This Toothless isn't Dad's Toothless; isn't our Toothless, just like how Hiccup isn't our Dad. We need to get back to our Dad, and our Toothless, and Sesame and Skyspear, too. I explained it to you earlier, remember?"

For a blink's time Finn is angry; she's usually so smart, so why doesn't she understand?

"If the worlds are different," he says, trying to keep his voice steady, "then the Nornir may have woven a different fate for Hiccup than they did for Dad. Even if it were the same fate, we may have messed that up just by being here!" He reaches out and runs a hand down Toothless' sleek black tail, stopping at the missing fin. He turns to his sister. "I want to stay and build the tail for him, before we leave. I just want to make sure he'll be okay, and Hiccup too, and everyone else. Please, Zeph."

She sighs. "Finky, you can't just assume that. Hiccup is still… you know, how Dad once was, the Dad who befriended Toothless all on his own. As for Toothless… like I said, he isn't our Toothless. He's Hiccup's."

Finn shakes his head. "He might not be our Toothless, Zeph, but he's… Toothless. He has a broken tail. He needs our help." He purses his lips. "I want to stay and help him."

She looks at him long and deep, and that's when he knows she will relent. He's usually happy to follow her lead, but in these rare cases, when he is absolutely certain what he wants, he knows she can't stop him.

After what seems like an eykt, she gives him a small nod.

"Alright, Nuffink. We'll stay. We'll help build his tail. And then we'll leave."

Author's Notes

1. I have seen Homecoming, and it is adorable! That being said, I don't consider Homecoming completely canon for a variety of reasons, so I'm not incorporating most of its plot, and only using settings-related elements (info about the siblings, the Nightlights, the tradition of the Snoggletog Pageant, etc.)

2. A gothi is a seer/priest of some sort in Norse paganism. The role is sometimes secular and interchangeable with the concept of a Chieftain.

3. Sesame and Skyspear are my names for the Nightlights. Sesame is the white one, and Skyspear is the white-nosed one. More about this HC can be found on my tumblr (at saieras) under Masterlist / Headcanons.

4. The Nornir are giantesses in Norse mythology, in charge of shaping people's fate and destinies. In particular, the three main Nornir sit by the world tree and weave threads of fate. Other lesser Nornir may visit humans and alter their fates accordingly, and they may be present at a person's birth and death.