Author's Note: To the Guest who asked if this was abandoned: NO! Abandoned stories are my pet peeve, and no story of mine will ever be abandoned. This story has been on a rocky schedule recently, but that's unavoidable for me, and hopefully nearing a stabilization, if not an end. This story will continue and will be completed eventually. I cannot stress that powerfully enough. I'm hoping to ease into a bi-weekly (the longer one) posting schedule for the time being, and then back into weekly once I get my buffer back.

Toothless was furious. He paced along the perimeter of the sea stack he had been left on, waiting impatiently for his brother and the others to arrive. Waiting for the Night Fury who had almost ruined everything to come within reach.

Toothless wasn't sure what he was going to do to Nóttreiði once he had him, but jumping him, pinning him, and roaring in his face was the definite first step no matter what came after. Nóttreiði deserved to be roughed-up; he had almost gotten Maour and Heather captured for real. Why had he held Einfari back? Why had she even listened to him when she was the one who was supposed to be telling him what to do, not the other way around?

All questions Toothless would get answered after he let off some smoke by slamming the male Nótt into the sea stack and roaring at him.

"We're coming in fast; can you be ready to catch Heather and me if we stumble too far forward?" Maour asked, distracting Toothless from his thoughts of vengeance for a brief moment.

'Why would you stumble?' Toothless asked, moving into position anyway.

"Aside from the moving landing, I don't know how gentle Nóttreiði is going to be with Heather."

Well, that was as good a reason as any. Toothless eyed the two rapidly-approaching shapes, each composed of a Night Fury dangling a human from their paws. 'I can do that.'

'Let me drop mine first,' Nóttreiði called out, sounding as if he didn't know he had done anything wrong.

'I will circle around,' Einfari agreed in a tight, stern voice. 'Let go of her gently.'

Toothless braced himself at the edge of the sea stack, and watched Nóttreiði glide in. He went slowly, but only just slow enough, and dropped Heather just short of Toothless, pulling up to fly back out to sea.

Toothless might have snapped his teeth at Nóttreiði's tail, which almost slapped him in the face as the Nótt pulled up, but the gritted cry of pain and weight slamming into his side distracted him.

'Heather?' he rumbled, noticing a smell he knew all too well, one akin to wet iron. Blood.

"I'm fine," she groaned, obviously lying. "Just… give me a minute. Don't tell Einfari. She'll get worried over nothing."

'Prove you are fine and I will say nothing,' Toothless offered. He could see Einfari gliding around in circles with Maour dangling from her firmly gripping paws, waiting for Heather to move out of the way. They only had a few moments.

"I am telling you," Heather gritted, pushing herself into a standing position by leaning on his side, "I'm-"

Toothless could distinctly see the moment Heather stopped speaking. It was the same moment she tried to step away from his side. Her right leg quivered, and she locked her jaw, groaning despite her best efforts to stay silent.

'I am coming in now!' Einfari called down, sounding worried. 'Heather, you need to move!'

Toothless circumvented the need for Heather to move by shuffling around her and putting his body between her and where Maour would hit. He didn't think Heather could move right now, despite her protests that she was fine. She certainly seemed to have trouble just turning with him, though she seemed to think it preferable to standing on her own or just sitting down.

Maour landed on the sea stack running, and managed to stop just short of Toothless, skidding into him lightly enough that he barely felt it. "That part's not so bad," he said enthusiastically. "Getting a running start makes it doable, though we really should practice-"

'Maour,' Toothless barked. 'Come look at Heather.' He didn't really know enough to be sure, at least with humans other than Maour. For all he knew, Heather would insist she was fine up to the point where she was dying, or was exaggerating even now.

'Is there something wrong with her?' Einfari asked quickly, landing on the sea stack and immediately circling around to nose at her rider. 'I smell blood. Why couldn't I smell that before?'

"Look," Heather said, "I told you, Astrid hit me with her stick, not even her ax. It will be fine."

"Probably," Maour agreed, sticking a hand into one of the saddlebags Toothless was wearing, rooting around blindly for something. "But if there's blood, there's something to bandage."

"Fine," Heather agreed. She certainly seemed to be saying that a lot at the moment. "Einfari, can you go fly out around the sea stack and be sure there are no ships sneaking up on us?"

'On it,' Einfari growled, leaping off of the sea stack.

The moment she was out of sight, Maour frowned. "That's paranoid even for you," he said carefully, walking around Toothless, clean bandages in hand. "How bad is it?"

"Pretty bad," Heather admitted, finally confirming what Toothless had suspected from the start. "I'll be okay, but she doesn't need to see this or worry about it."

Toothless turned to the side, feeling he should see what Heather didn't want Einfari to, just in case Einfari asked about it later. He would feel better about telling her that it was nothing if he knew-

"Uh…" Maour said, kneeling by Heather, who was sitting with her legs straight out. "What, exactly, did she do?" There was blood pooling under Heather, though not fast enough for Toothless to really worry.

"That stupid sharp stake," Heather explained, shifting her weight to her left side. "She got it under my guard and stabbed me in the hip."

Toothless's eyes immediately went to Heather's hips, but he couldn't see anything, because he was on the wrong side.

Maour, on the other paw, definitely could see it now. "There?" he asked, pointing to her.

"No, on my other set of hips," Heather griped. "Yes. I can bandage myself."

"If you insist," Maour agreed, hastily handing her the roll of clean cloth strips. There was a lot of it, probably because he had packed with the idea of possibly needing it for wounds on a Night Fury. "Any other injuries?"

"No, it was a short fight," Heather replied tersely, sounding annoyed. "Help me stand. I can't get at it."

Toothless, satisfied that they were capable of handling Heather's injury between the two of them, turned his attention to the dragons circling the sea stack, and back to the justified anger he had totally forgotten while dealing with the injury of a friend.

An injury that was partially Nóttreiði's fault, as he had held Einfari back from rescuing them immediately. The rage came back full-force, and Toothless paced out into the middle of the sea stack, growling to himself.

Annoyingly, he could not act on his rage. Nóttreiði was circling the sea stack and nowhere near Toothess's admittedly limited reach. Interestingly, he was also keeping a large distance between himself and his sister, who seemed too busy watching for danger to take any notice of him.

If Toothless didn't know better, he would think Nóttreiði was trying to hide in plain sight, in the hopes that they would forget what he had done. But Toothless did know better; Nóttreiði would defiantly defend himself if questioned on holding Einfari back.

That didn't mean Toothless wouldn't feel better after knocking the Nótt around a little. That was what anyone who intentionally put Maour in danger deserved, at a minimum, though Maour might not agree with that.

'Nóttreiði,' Toothless roared, keeping most of his anger out of his voice for the moment, 'land, please.' It would be all the better if the attack came while Nóttreiði was not expecting it.

'I would rather not,' Nóttreiði roared back, getting just close enough to be heard. At this distance, he could probably dodge a shot if Toothless tried to fire on him.

'Why not?' Toothless asked, accidentally letting some of his anger creep into his voice.

'I do not want to die or be maimed,' Nóttreiði replied, keeping to his large circle around the sea stack. 'I am giving you time to calm down.'

'So you are aware of just what you did,' Einfari cut in, her voice acerbic. Toothless hadn't even noticed her catching up to her brother, and judging by the startled flinch, Nóttreiði hadn't either. 'Toothless's anger should be the least of your concerns, brother.'

'All worked out, none are dead, and you are untouched,' Nóttreiði said defensively. 'I am-'

'Missing the point,' Einfari snarled, pulling up beside him to glare at him directly. 'Tell me, what did you swear, to be allowed on this whole trip? Has it left your mind?'

'To obey Maour and Toothless, not you,' Nóttreiði replied.

Toothless had almost forgotten about that. He could not quite remember whether Nóttreiði had ever flat-out refused to do something either he or Maour had said, and it didn't matter right now.

'Neither could give orders!' Einfari said tersely. 'And you cannot give me orders, but you did, and threatened to fire at them all if I did not obey! You are in deep trouble.'

'With both of us,' Toothless roared out, even more incensed. Nóttreiði had threatened to blast and probably kill Maour in order to keep Einfari from saving him? It was totally in-character for him prior to his recent attempt to turn over a new leaf, but it was maddening all the same.

But there was one other thing Nóttreiði had sworn much earlier on, near five years ago now. 'And what about when you swore to protect Maour?' he continued at the top of his lungs. 'You swore not to let him be hurt when you could prevent it!' That was the exact wording, if he recalled correctly.

Nóttreiði didn't reply for a short time, but when he did his voice was neutral, overly so, as if he expected what he said to be taken badly. 'Maour needed Einfari to escape. Einfari wanted to fly into danger. By protecting her I protected his chances of escape. In the long term I was protecting him by preserving his escape route.'

Toothless snorted incredulously. If nothing eise, the fact that Nóttreiði had called his sister Maour's escape route proved the whole thing a cynical rationalization, not a reason. Nóttreiði didn't think like that. Einfari was always his top priority. 'And the threat?' he said. 'How do you explain that away?'

'I never intended to follow through, of course,' Nóttreiði explained. 'I do not expect either of you to be happy with me, and I do not expect either of you to pass judgment, given I threatened your humans. Let Father hear of this and decide whether I did wrong."

'Got this all figured out, have you?' Einfari snarled. 'You think he'll agree that it wasn't worth the slightest risk to me to try and save Heather, and that you were helping me see reason.'

'I know I have angered you,' Nóttreiði said, not answering the question, which was as good as confirming what Einfari thought. 'I am still trying to do better, but I value your life and safety above theirs, and always will.'

Toothless wished he could get into the air. Even if he didn't dare risk anything physical out over the open ocean, he would like to be right there with Einfari, not stuck on the sidelines.

He turned to Maour and Heather. 'Maour, can you help me get out there?'

Maour froze halfway through wrapping a bandage around Heather's upper thigh. Heather shook her head. "Not right this second."

'I thought you were doing that yourself?' Toothless said curiously. He did not see why it mattered, but he knew his brother well enough to know the look of embarrassed awkwardness, and knew Maour would have preferred it that way.

"I would if I could," Heather agreed, "but my hands are shaking-"

"Probably from the shock," Maour mumbled.

"And I can't really see it well enough," Heather concluded. "So no, you're down a tailfin for a few more minutes. He is not fast at this."

"I haven't had much time to practice treating big, blunt stab wounds," Maour replied. "It's not easy. But I can do it," he hastily added, seeing the unease on Heather's face.

Toothless turned his attention back to Nóttreiði, who was still circling, trailed by his sister. 'You have to set down eventually!' he declared.

'Someone must watch to be sure none of those ships come near,' was the reply. 'I will set down when you come up to patrol.'

Toothless glanced over at the distant island. Ships were departing in all directions, but none seemed to be headed their way. For now, at least.

'Fine.' He could wait. It aggravated him that Nóttreiði was getting off so easily at the moment, but there was nothing he could do about that.

Nóttreiði's stomach was rolling like he had eaten a month-old rotten pile of fish heads, making him more than slightly nauseous. He flew faster than was necessary in his circular route, trying to outfly his feelings and discomfort.

Everything was so twisted and wrong, and he didn't know why he couldn't make up his mind.

Einfari had left him to his patrolling, visibly angry and frustrated with him. He didn't blame her, but he did at the same time. She knew why, but she didn't agree, even though it made sense…

Confusion reigned, and the odd apprehension he hated, the feeling of possibly having done something wrong, but not being sure about it.

It was all he could do to keep playing the persona he had created, to act neutral and sure of himself. If only he was sure of anything right now.

He went over his actions once more, trying to see them in his mind.

Stopping Einfari from diving to the rescue. Threatening to kill Heather and Maour if Einfari tried as a point of leverage to make her listen, all to ensure she was safe, whatever happened to the humans. That was good, surely. So why was he bothered?

He wondered if he had broken Einfari's trust and his own facade by threatening Heather so easily, even if explaining it as putting Einfari ahead of all might have fixed the damage done to the latter. It was necessary, though. The situation on the ground was dangerous and waiting for an opportune moment to save the riders was the right call.

But something still bothered him, else he would not feel like tossing up everything in his stomach to get it over with. Something aside from breaking Einfari's trust, as that was another, duller pain in his chest.

He heard very light flapping from behind him, and flinched. Einfari could only be heard at all when she was flying hard, which usually only happened when she was angry.

'I thought you were leaving me to this,' he said tentatively. There was no way she was out here just to fly with him; her angry wingbeats said otherwise.

'You promised me you are trying to change,' Einfari growled quietly. 'Did you lie?'

'No.' He had promised that with the idea of lulling the humans into a false sense of security, but in the back of his mind he had also at least considered the possibility of ending up changing anyway, if the near-impossibility of these humans being different turned out to be true. Therefore, he had not lied in that, at least not entirely.

'So why?' She snorted angrily. 'No, don't bother. My safety. But we both know I would have taken her back sooner or later, and delaying only brought more danger. You did not stop me for my safety.'

Nóttreiði made a quick circle, trying to turn and fly by his sister instead of in front of her, but she followed him too closely. He couldn't even look back well enough to see anything but her wings.

After a moment, he gave up and shook his head, answering despite being unable to see her. 'It was for you. There was no other reason.'

'I don't know if I believe that,' Einfari retorted. 'Seeing as you almost got what you wanted ever since you met Heather.'

'She was not close to death. Her brother wanted her as a living captive.' He knew that much.

'The wound she took says otherwise,' Einfari snarled. 'She could very well have died thanks to you.'

'What wound?' He hadn't seen her taken any injury in those last few moments, though his eyes had been mostly on Einfari as they swooped in to grab their targets while the moment of opportunity lasted, the one so close to perfect he couldn't stop her from taking advantage of it. He had grabbed Heather by the shoulders as she ran.

'I'm not telling you because you'd probably say something smug and I don't want to hear it.'

'Then don't tell me,' he retorted. The sick feeling in his stomach had intensified, and he wasn't sure why.

'Fine. If you're still trying to change, then you should feel guilty. She's obviously in a lot of pain. And if you're trying to get rid of her, you failed, because she'll live.'

'So you want me to feel bad about this either way,' Nóttreiði summarized. She was succeeding, though he didn't know why. He definitely felt bad about his actions.

'Her injury is your fault, and the only reason this didn't turn out worse was pure luck. I don't know whether you were sincere about anything you've said recently,' she said angrily. 'I cannot tell what you're trying to accomplish with all of this.'

Neither could he. 'Which is why I say let Father decide what I deserve.'

'He won't take your side,' Einfari promised.

'Maybe not,' Nóttreiði agreed. He himself could not be sure he had done right. He was not suggesting they tell all to their father in an attempt to escape justice. If anyone could actually untangle the mess his motivations and feelings had become, it would be their father, or possibly their mother. He certainly could not, and he was the one who had acted.

But he would keep trying, through this whole slow, likely uneventful night. If he found no answers, which was likely, he would just keep playing the part he had taken up, and hope his father could tell him what was wrong.

Heather did not sleep soundly that night. Her backside burned like fire, but she couldn't sleep on her face, and being anywhere near Einfari was out. The heat rising from her friend's body only made the wound throb worse.

Unlucky. That was the only way Heather could think of to describe herself. How else would one categorize being stabbed in the behind with a stake heartbeats before being airlifted to safety? She had held her own against Astrid for all of three seconds before seeing a chance to run, and that was when it happened. The moment she turned her back to the woman, confident the ax could not be brought to bear against her fast enough, the stake had come out.

Heather shifted again, trying to lie on one side while also not leaving her back out in the open, and mentally cursing the hard stone beneath her. Sleeping was torture. Walking was going to be painful. Even riding Einfari promised to be a difficult, painful task now. Until her wound healed, she was going to be in constant pain.

Still better than being a prisoner on Dagur's ship. That, at least, she could say. Things could be so much worse. What was a painful injury and some minor embarrassment compared to that? The embarrassment was not even that bad; Maour had seemed more uneasy with helping her treat her wound than she had been. Pain made one practical, it seemed.

She put that out of her mind. At least she had friends to help her.

A rustling sound caught her attention. Toothless leapt off of the sea stack, Maour on his back. They were going out to relieve Nóttreiði, which meant it was already past midnight.

A few minutes later, Heather heard a much lighter thump, that of four padded paws hitting stone.

Heather only then realized that she was unusually vulnerable at the moment. Einfari was not far, only a few steps away, but that was little protection compared to their normal, in which Heather slept under her friend's wing.

Nóttreiði walked closer. Heather gave no sign that she was awake, willing him to go away. He was a Nótt, so even if he did want her dead, he wouldn't do it now. He wanted his sister's good opinion, and there could only be one possible killer if Heather turned up dead in the morning, or just disappeared.

But all of that seemed like very little to defend her when she felt his hot exhalations on her side. He had to be looking right at her, to be so close.

What was he looking at? What was running through his mind? She would never know either-

'Sorry.'

With that, the as of late enigmatic dragon moved away, taking the place on the sea stack furthest from both her and his sister, leaving Heather to puzzle over what he had meant by that.

On the simplest level, he meant it. He was sorry. For what was obvious; he had held Einfari back from rescuing them immediately, and was therefore responsible for the injury she took in getting herself out of the enemy's clutches.

But Nóttreiði was not simple. He could be faking it, not feeling sorry at all.

The only problem with that all too likely possibility was motivation. Nóttreiði thought her and his sister asleep. There was nobody awake to witness his insincere apology.

But… did she know Einfari was asleep? Heather briefly accessed her friend's sense of touch, knowing that the feel of one's eyelids differed between true sleep and faking it, that of holding them shut compared to being relaxed. If Einfari was awake, this would lead to some awkward questions, such as what Heather was doing, but she had to know.

As it turned out, Einfari was definitely asleep, her body so relaxed Heather wanted-

Heather held back from crying out in relief as the idea hit her. She could just stay like this, so focused on Einfari's sense she couldn't feel her own agony.

Why had she not thought of this sooner? Heather went all in and took up all of Einfari's senses, reveling in the lack of pain. This was perfect, an advantage anyone who suffered would kill for. It didn't even have a downside; Einfari lost nothing but privacy, and at the moment there was nothing to want private anyway.

Her pain put aside, Heather found herself growing sleepy. But there was still Nóttreiði's intentions to decipher, and she had, before getting distracted, answered one question. Einfari was definitely asleep.

Two options presented themselves to her. Either Nóttreiði thought Heather was awake, and had apologized to strengthen his facade of trying to change…

Or he had thought her asleep, assumed he was totally alone and unobserved, and apologized to her in a way that she could never prove or even know about.

Either was exactly what she would expect of Nóttreiði, depending on whether he really was trying. There was no way to be sure which it was.

Heather resolved to not tell anybody about it. If it was meant to be heard, she wouldn't help Nóttreiði rebuild his credibility, and if he meant it to go unheard by any, then she wouldn't humiliate him.

Two different versions of her friend's brother. Either a cynical enemy waiting for her to lower her guard, or a cynical enemy trying to change, and fighting himself to do so. She hoped for the latter while suspecting the former. Luckily, in this case, the best response was the same either way.

Heather fell asleep feeling the easy rest of another's body, happily leaving her own pain behind for a time.

The next morning started oddly. She woke to find herself already standing, looking around furtively as she shuffled her back end out over the edge of the sea stack-

'Heather!' Einfari barked. 'Out of my head!'

Heather pulled away the moment she realized what she was doing, snapping back to feeling her own body instead of her friend's. The instant shift brought a burst of aching pain, and she compulsively groaned, rolling onto her uninjured side.

'Dare I ask?' Einfari growled, walking over to her. 'Seriously, what was that? I thought you were asleep.'

"I was," Heather groaned, sitting up to stare with blurry eyes at Einfari. "I woke up like that."

'Can that happen?' Einfari warbled, pacified by that explanation. 'It is too bad Maour and Toothless are not here. They would know.'

"I did kind of fall asleep using your sense of touch," Heather admitted, not wanting to leave that out only to have to reveal it later if Einfari brought it up with Maour.

'Why… your injury. It lets you avoid the pain?'

"Entirely," Heather confirmed.

'That's useful,' Einfari said enthusiastically, batting her tail against the ground in her excitement. 'Really useful.'

"I mean, I am still injured, and I can't feel or move my own body while feeling yours," Heather clarified, amused by her friend's enthusiasm. "But yes. I actually got some sleep last night."

'Well,' Einfari said slyly, 'not really last night so much as this morning. It is past noon.'

Heather looked up at the cloudy grey sky skeptically. "It is?"

'Definitely. It was sunny a few minutes ago. I expect the clouds to blow away completely by nightfall. If the wind is right, it will be an easy first night of flying.'

Heather nodded absently, thinking about what Einfari meant. A first night of flying… "Are we going home, then?" It made a sort of sense, but there was way too much left undone here for the answer to be simple.

'We had better be. I do not feel comfortable travelling with Nóttreiði like this,' Einfari admitted sadly. 'I cannot tell what he is thinking, and I almost think he doesn't know either. Hopefully, Mother and Father can sort him out. I am just trying to get us home in one piece at this point.'

"That's a pretty negative way of looking at it," Heather observed, unsettled by how defeated Einfari sounded. "I mean, this wasn't as bad as last time." This time, Nóttreiði was the one holding back from potential conflict. At least he hadn't charged in and killed everyone involved. It could have gone much worse.

'He…' Einfari shook her head, dropping that line of explanation. 'He's either confused or playing a much deeper game than I can understand, and either is dangerous for him and us.'

Heather nodded, not wanting to say anything Einfari might take the wrong way. At least she had caught on that Nóttreiði might be faking his intent to change. "So what do we do?"

'We go home, tell my father and mother everything, and let them sort it out,' Einfari responded solemnly. 'This is too much for me, and I don't have any control over him. Even if Maour and Toothless stay out here, we're going home.'

That felt a lot like giving up, but Heather didn't bother arguing. As things stood, they were probably headed back anyway, and she certainly wouldn't be able to do anything useful for a while with this injury, so it was not as if she would be missing out on anything.

"Where is everyone, anyway?" Heather asked, looking around. The sea stack was empty aside from them.

'Nóttreiði is flying above the clouds, avoiding me.' Einfari growled in annoyance. 'Maour and Toothless are meeting with our new allies over on those ships.' Her tail flicked out to the right.

Heather eyed the cluster of anchored ships doubtfully. "That seems… reckless." After all of their paranoia on the island, she wouldn't have thought Maour or Toothless to be so careless, even if the owners of those ships were allies.

'They did not have much of a choice. Nóttreiði isn't reliable, and I wasn't going to leave you here alone or wake you,' Einfari explained. 'Besides, those are allies. Would they break their word?'

"No, but relying on someone else's word to be safe isn't a great idea," Heather replied. The events of the night before only strengthened that conviction. "Should we go over there?" She didn't particularly want to go anywhere at the moment, but it might be better if Maour had backup.

'No.' Einfari walked over to Heather and put a paw on her outstretched legs, holding them in place to make her point. 'You are resting now, not riding over to stand around and be in pain for no good reason.'

"I guess you're right." Both about Maour and Toothless not needing them to talk to their allies, and about her own physical state. Not feeling her body's pain didn't mean it was magically healed, and she wasn't going to be sitting comfortably in a saddle in the immediate future. No need to endure that before necessary.

After several hours of worried waiting, she finally saw Toothless flying in. As he landed, she demanded, "So? What's going on?"

'Well, our human allies made it out mostly intact,' Toothless offered.

"Mostly?"

"Mogadon took an ax to the arm," Maour explained. "He shouldn't be down for long. But Sigvard's son died in the fighting on the island, along with several other Rockbreakers. They got hit harder than the rest of the tribes, for some reason. Probably bad luck."

"Sounds like it," Heather agreed. The Rockbreakers wouldn't be anyone's first target. They weren't weak, but they also weren't strong, and there was nothing in particular to be gained by striking them specifically. From what she had been told, they weren't all that important to the alliance Maour had forged, aside from being one more tribe to add to the group.

'And what are we doing now?' Einfari asked hopefully.

'Going home.' Toothless purred happily.

"Really?" That felt too easy. "Shouldn't we be doing something?"

"The Chieftains know to bring their forces to Mahelmetan because Dagur's fleet is scattered around that area, but they need some time to get home and prepare their people for war," Maour explained. "It'll be a few months before all of this really breaks out. Two or so before Astrid and Dagur even get to the armada, and then they have to somehow gather all of their wandering ships together. We have time, and so do our allies."

"The reality of war with ships," Heather mused. It had never struck her just how slow all of that was. Now she was seeing it, thinking of how much she and Einfari could do with two or more months to prepare. The trip back only took two weeks, and that meant she had literal months to spare.

"Exactly. So we're heading back… now, really," Maour concluded, looking around. "Nóttreiði's still on patrol?"

'I still want to tackle him for what he did,' Toothless growled. 'He hasn't set paw near me yet, but he'll slip up sooner or later.'

'Let my father take care of disciplining him,' Einfari growled. 'If you attack him, he might try and kill you.'

"Besides," Maour added, "since when do you beat up on the people who anger you? I don't remember you tackling and roaring at me."

'You're not thinking back far enough. That's exactly what I did the moment we first met,' Toothless replied.

"No… Well, I guess, but that doesn't count!" Maour objected.

Toothless chuckled dryly, leaning to the side to let Maour dismount. 'Better than the alternative.'

"That's not much of an excuse." Maour began sorting through the saddlebags, repacking things to make more room in the bags. "Heather, are you and Einfari ready to go?"

'Definitely,' Einfari rumbled before Heather could answer. 'We are going now?'

"We may as well, if Nóttreiði will get over here. He has been flying for a while, but we can rest at nightfall," Maour reasoned. "Then fly through the night. No need to take chances on the way back."

Heather nodded, agreeing with that, and made to get into her saddle. Einfari leaned over to make it easy, but just sitting astride burned like fire. Luckily, there was a solution to that.

Einfari's sense of touch was a welcome change, just like the night before. Heather went all-in on the other senses, seeing no reason not to.

'Can you talk like this?' Einfari murmured.

That was an interesting question. Heather didn't see how she could. Fully accessing Einfari's sense of feeling meant abandoning her own, and when she tried to open her mouth or do anything, nothing happened… That she could tell.

Heather thought about the problem for a moment, and then tried to just make a noise. She would hear it in any case, and not being able to feel her body might not mean she couldn't use it.

Nothing happened. Not only did she not feel herself speaking, which she expected, but no sound came out.

Heather briefly pulled back to herself, ignoring the renewed ache that brought to her attention, and cleared her throat. "Apparently not."

'Too bad. But you do move a little no matter what. I can feel you breathing on the back of my neck. So you just cannot intentionally do anything?'

"Seems like it." She hadn't even thought about breathing, so it was good to know that wasn't an issue.

'Not even holding on?'

"Oh." That hadn't occurred to her either. "Probably not, no." That meant she couldn't do this in the air, as she would just fall off the moment Einfari jolted forward, dove, or just turned sharply enough to throw her. But the alternative was suffering hours of sitting on her injury and feeling it.

Or maybe not. "Maour, how much rope do you have?"

The trip back to the Isle of Night was slow and strange, at least for Heather. The time in the air was spent mentally inhabiting a body she didn't control and was unfamiliar with, one that flew and maneuvered on its own. Not being able to talk meant she could only distract herself with the alien sensations of flight and listening to the few conversations the others struck up.

Of course, she considered being rendered mute and tied to the saddle for hours on end vastly preferable to the alternative. Her injury was healing well enough, but it ached as if being freshly stabbed. Lying facedown on the saddle didn't help much, as every little jolt brought about by Einfari flying normally jostled her. Strangeness and boredom beat constant pain any day.

The pain couldn't be totally avoided, though. She felt every jolt in the time between landing for the night and going to sleep, a time she minimized as much as possible.

So, Heather got very familiar with how her friend flew and moved over the two weeks it took to return home. She didn't know if that would ever come in handy, as Einfari, unlike Toothless, didn't need her help or familiarity to fly, but she couldn't see how it would hurt.

That familiarity, along with the occasional muddled dream featuring Heather in the wrong kind of body, seemed to be the only side-effects of spending nearly every waking moment, and all of her time asleep, accessing Einfari's senses.

Which was good, if she wanted to keep doing it to avoid pain in the future. Maour, after being told what Heather was doing, had been extremely worried about unforeseen side effects, and she had ended up promising him to stop if anything even slightly off started happening, with either her body or her mind. He had even made Einfari promise the same thing, though he had also had the presence of mind to wait until Nóttreiði was out of hearing distance to bring up that potential issue.

Nóttreiði. Heather didn't know what to think of him, and Einfari's decision to just drop the problem in Nóttleiðtogi's lap, if Night Furies even had such a thing, was looking to be a great idea the more Heather considered it. Let the intelligent, cunning Nótt adults figure out what to do with him; they were even predisposed to side with Heather if it came down to their son's 'all humans are bad' mindset. She would have thought of it herself if she wasn't so used to being totally responsible for solving her own problems.

That decision, in turn, led to thinking about how her life had changed, and her hatred for Dagur, and Toothless's advice. All heavy, intricate topics that helped her pass the time…

When she could bear to ponder them, that was. Most of the hours of flight were spent just experiencing how it felt to ride the wind like a dragon. And when they finally reached the Isle of Night, after two weeks of uneventful flight, Heather thought it was fitting she saw the Isle through Einfari's eyes. Why, exactly, she wouldn't have been able to explain. It just was.