Author's Note: This chapter marks a milestone, a big one. Not a milestone for this story, though. One for my entire repertoire. With this chapter, I officially pass 1,000,000 words published on this site.

And, weirdly enough, that's less than half of what I've written in this fandom (the rest is locked away in stories I've yet to finish, but will sooner or later). I don't think I'll have too much of a problem getting to 2,000,000 words. Usurpation of the Darkness alone is good for another 400,000.

But anyway, enough about mostly pointless numbers. On with the story!

Heather wasn't sure what she had been expecting, but the Isle of Night looked exactly as they had left it, an apparently uninhabited island in the middle of nowhere covered in rolling hills, thick vegetation, and a mountain. Nothing had changed.

As Einfari dove, heading for the Nótt entrance to the caverns, Heather realized why she didn't know what to expect. The island had not changed, but in many ways, she and the two Nótts with her had. There was a schism between Einfari and her brother. Nóttreiði was even less transparent, too unpredictable for any of them to understand. The two Nótts had experience with the real world, now.

Was Einfari seeing the island with new eyes? Was Nóttreiði? Heather didn't know, despite using Einfari's physical sense of sight. She could tell Einfari was excited to be home; her muscles tensed and untensed in anticipation, and she put more speed into the dive than was strictly safe.

Once they were on the ground, Heather reluctantly pulled back to her own senses, knowing she shouldn't rely on Einfari when they weren't in the air. This was not an event she could passively observe from Einfari's back.

Nóttreiði landed behind them and hesitated outside the cavern entrance, looking in cautiously.

'You look like you are sneaking into enemy territory,' Einfari observed sourly. 'Not so sure of yourself now that you are here?'

'No,' Nóttreiði freely admitted. He left it at that, holding back from the entrance.

Einfari snorted in annoyance and walked into the cavern, roaring loudly. 'We are back!'

The response was quick in coming; from the sound, all three of the Nótts were home. It was only just past dusk, so that made sense. The mix of roars echoing through the caves was music to Heather's ears.

Joy was the first to make it to them, scrambling around a tight corner and into sight, tearing up small tufts of the moss that lined the cavern floor in her haste to push herself forward. 'Hi!' she barked, leaping at Einfari and crashing into her chest. Einfari took a step back, rocked by the impact. Was it just Heather's imagination, or was Joy a little wider and longer than she had been when they left?

'Hi to you too,' Einfari purred, nuzzling Joy. 'Please do not jump at Heather, though. She is hurt.'

"Not badly," Heather clarified, not wanting to spoil the moment. She was safe up on Einfari's back in any case; Joy wouldn't try to tackle her off of Einfari… Or maybe she would have, had Einfari not warned her. Necessary or not, it dampened the carefree mood.

'Brother,' Joy warbled, squeezing past Einfari in search of Nóttreiði. Heather twisted in the saddle, ignoring the new pain that brought, to watch.

'Joy,' Nóttreiði purred. He was pressed up against the wall, and didn't move away from it, though he did nose at Joy when she came close.

It was clear to Heather that he was hiding his injury, the series of gashes in the right side of his head that had not totally healed yet, a very visible wound if one could see that part of him. Joy could not, not when he was against the wall.

But Joy could tell that something was wrong, if not what. 'You're hiding something,' she complained petulantly.

Nóttreiði shrugged the wing that was not pressed against the wall, and closed his eyes for a brief moment. 'Yes,' he admitted. 'But you don't need to worry about that.'

'I want to know,' she retorted. 'Show me.'

'Perhaps it would be better if he showed us first,' Nóttskarpur announced, alerting Heather to the fact that she was standing right in front of Einfari, along with Nóttleiðtogi. When had they gotten here?

'We have a lot to tell,' Einfari said carefully, looking at her parents. 'And Joy should not hear some of it.'

Heather nodded in agreement. They had a long story, and Joy wasn't old enough to weigh in on all that her brother had said and done. Nóttleiðtogi and Nóttskarpur were the ones who needed to know.

'But first, welcome back, and we're glad you are all safe,' Nóttleiðtogi rumbled, looking at Einfari, Heather, and Nóttreiði in turn. 'That is just as important as what went on out in the world. Whatever it was, you survived and returned.'

Heather smiled at that. It was something she might have expected to hear from Skarpur, not Nóttleiðtogi. Somehow, it meant more coming from him, especially when he looked at her as he said it.

But the general goodwill that filled the Nótt cavern might soon disappear. Heather wasn't particularly looking forward to the results of the Nótt parents being filled in on all that had happened, but it was going to be a load off of her own shoulders, at the very least. They could handle it.

"She looks cold," Maour said, looking over his sister's sleeping form. Von was sprawled out in the entrance to the Svartur section of the caverns, physically blocking the way with her body as she slept. They couldn't pass without getting her to move. Whether or not they wanted to wake her was still in question; she looked exhausted, even in her sleep.

'I can fix that,' Toothless decided, walking over to his sister. He stopped just short of her and began flaming the stone around her, quickly heating it up while not flaming her directly.

Maour held in a laugh as Von began to stir, slowly stretching her paws in the direction of the warmth. After a few moments, she rolled onto the heated patch of stone, clearing the way.

"I feel like that might be a weakness," he whispered to Toothless. "Want to pass the Night Fury guardian? Give her a warm stone to sleep on so she moves out of the way."

'It does sound like an answer to a riddle devised by one of the Eldurs,' Toothless agreed. 'Want to see if we can lure her all the way out of the cavern like this?'

"No, she looks tired," Maour said, voicing his earlier observation. "Let's sneak by, warm the ground all around her on the other side, and let her sleep." There would be plenty of time for reunions later.

Toothless eyed the small gap created by Von's movement. 'I don't think I'll fit.'

"I fit," Maour replied, slipping by Von with no trouble at all. "Come on, just squeeze by." Toothless could also try going around, but that would mean entering the caverns through one of the other sections, trespassing in another family's territory, and would take much longer.

'If she wakes, I am blaming you,' Toothless rumbled, squeezing up against the side of the cavern. He brushed Von's side on his way by, and almost fell on top of her at an outcropping in the wall, but made it without more than a low growl from Von, who remained soundly asleep.

'We definitely should not wake her,' Toothless said as they left their sister, heading deeper into the cave. 'She is not usually a heavy sleeper. What has she been doing recently?'

Maour and Toothless by unspoken agreement passed through the main cavern without stopping, heading for the side cavern Cloey and Shadow usually occupied, the one Cloey had laid her eggs in. That was where their parents would be, if they were anywhere.

'Hello?' Toothless called out in a low voice, stopping just short of the side cavern in question. 'Anyone home?'

A happy warble greeted them. 'Kappi? Maour?'

"In the flesh," Maour declared, stepping around the stone and into the side cavern. Cloey was inside, curled around the same two eggs, the tops of which were barely visible along her side, covered by the end of her tail. "Sorry we're late."

'Not too late, though,' Cloey purred. 'I cannot leave these, so get over here!'

Maour stepped to the side to let Toothless pass and then quickly made his way to her, carefully stopping a few steps short-

Cloey growled at him, startling Toothless. 'What are you doing?'

Maour took a step back. "What?"

'I trust you,' Cloey said emphatically, lifting her tail to reveal the eggs. 'So why are you staying away?'

Maour hadn't even been thinking of Cloey's reaction. "It's not that," he protested earnestly. "I just didn't want to risk falling right onto them if I tripped or something!" He didn't think it even remotely likely, but there was no point in taking any sort of risk. Not when the lives at risk were so precious.

'We went over this before we left,' Toothless said casually, nuzzling his mother in greeting. 'Maour knows you trust him. Don't worry.'

'Sorry,' Cloey whined. 'I'm jumpy and irritable. How did you two even get in here? I asked Von to tell me when you got back.'

Maour exchanged a quick glance with Toothless, who shrugged his wings. He decided on the truth; Cloey might feel less safe when she heard the truth, but he wasn't about to lie to her. "We snuck past Von. She looked tired, so we didn't want to wake her."

Cloey's ears drooped dramatically. 'I didn't need to hear that,' she rumbled to herself. 'Stupid instincts!'

'I am going to be taking over in guarding the entrance,' Toothless volunteered. 'And what we did to get past Von would not work once we tell her about it.'

'That is reassuring,' Cloey agreed. 'Besides, she is very tired.'

"About that," Maour remarked, sitting with his back to the cavern wall. "What has she been doing?"

Cloey sighed tiredly. 'Everything. With your father out patrolling most of the time, she is my only relief, and I lean on her far too often. It does not help that she doesn't feel comfortable sleeping while watching the eggs.'

'Patrolling?'

'Oh, right. Dear, our sons are home, so you're fishing for five again,' Cloey said to the empty air.

Toothless figured out what she meant almost immediately. 'Since when?' he barked in surprise.

'Shortly after you two left.' Cloey purred smugly. 'It's very useful. I can fly and watch my eggs at the same time, even if I am not really flying.'

Maour's jaw dropped. "You and Shadow linked?" he asked incredulously. That was a new thing, a new way to use the link. One he didn't disapprove of, to be sure, but new all the same.

'I was paranoid and looking for ways to be safer. Being able to talk to my mate over any distance seemed like a huge advantage,' Cloey explained. 'Do you approve?'

'Wait, why does that matter?' Toothless asked.

"Maour clearly has his own ideas of how this ability should be used," Cloey replied serenely, "and I agree with them for the most part. If we make it normal for them to build relationships between friends, and heavily stamp out abuses of them, then we ensure that they are only used for good. Right?'

Maour nodded slowly. He shouldn't be surprised Cloey could so easily explain what for him had been mostly unconscious, the desire to ensure what he and Toothless had would be a model for how to do things, and not an exception in a line of abuses of power, one started by the Queen and enabled by the knowledge being spread.

'So?' Cloey asked, looking at Maour.

"I think…" He took a moment to actually consider it. "I think it is good as long as people do not get it into their heads that one must be linked with one's mate, or that all mates should be linked." He could easily imagine that going wrong in a thousand different ways.

'Oh, no, of course not,' Cloey agreed. 'I don't think I would even want it if not for the current situation. I certainly did not even think of it until now, despite years to think about the possibility.'

'What is the current situation?' Toothless asked impatiently. 'Remember, we do not know what has gone on. When we left, there was no situation.'

'I can answer that,' Shadow announced, walking into the cavern, 'but you should really go talk to Eldurberg and Fishlegs. They can give a full explanation. I can't, since my attention has been split.'

'We'll do that,' Toothless said quickly, eyeing the fish Shadow brought with him, 'after we eat. Right, Maour?'

"Right." They were home, and everything was fine for the moment. The rest of the world could wait for a short while.

Nóttreiði was glad it had not taken long. He knew his parents were observant and shrewd, so he hadn't expected the easy, happy atmosphere to last, but it was a relief to be so quickly relieved of the burden of pretending all was well. His wound throbbed, slightly aggravated by being pressed into the wall, and he didn't want to hide anything.

So, when his father had so quickly suggested they take a walk through the forest, alone, he had jumped at the chance. Joy could stay behind with their mother and the others; they would not talk about anything that she should not hear.

Nóttreiði wasn't sure why they were walking instead of flying, though. Flight was even more private; they could be out above the water in moments. There was the slightest chance of being overheard, here.

His father led the way, casually padding through the forest, eventually breaking out into a clearing Nóttreiði didn't recognize. A few of the trees were scarred around the bases, and the canopy was oddly pruned in places, but it otherwise looked like any other unremarkable part of the forest.

'It is good to see you all back alive,' Nóttleiðtogi rumbled. 'But not unharmed. Heather displays pain with every movement, and you are hiding something on your forehead.'

Had his father really not seen it yet? No, of course not. He had swept by and led the way, never even looking back. 'I am not unharmed,' Nóttreiði admitted.

Nóttleiðtogi turned and caught sight of his now obvious wound immediately, growling as he eyed the injury, but he said nothing for a few long moments.

'It will be stiff and sore when it heals,' Nóttleiðtogi said quietly. 'Do not be afraid to rub it against a rock and scratch it, but be careful. The grey skin will not harden or grow scales.'

'Is that all you have to say?' Nóttreiði asked plaintively. He had not been expecting impersonal advice on how to handle the practical aspects of having a scar. Probing questions, definitely, cross-examination once his father had heard Einfari's side of the story, for sure, maybe even a preemptive lecture, but not this.

'Until I know what has happened and why you are marked very much like I am,' Nóttleiðtogi growled, still staring at the wound, 'that is all I can say. But what do you want me to say? Do you want a lecture on being careful? I am very sure you could use one. That injury did not come quickly.'

'No,' Nóttreiði huffed, feeling absolutely terrible. 'I don't want a lecture, or you saying I told you so, or… Or anything like that.' He had wanted his father's advice, not his condemnation. 'Can you just listen? And then tell me what you think? Whether I did right or not?' He couldn't decide for himself, so he needed his father to weigh in on it.

Nóttleiðtogi nodded slowly. 'I can do that. But are you going to tell me everything, or only the parts of your story that make you feel like you were in the right with whatever you did?'

'All of it.' He knew better than to ask for advice without giving the whole story, and besides which, his sister would be making sure both of their parents knew everything, as she saw it. Lying would gain him absolutely nothing.

'And you'll actually listen to what I have to say after, even if it does not appeal to you?' Nóttleiðtogi continued skeptically.

'Of course!' He didn't ask why his father doubted that; asking for advice could just be a ploy of some sort. But he wasn't trying to do anything except untangle his own actions, and that required honesty, not trickery.

As he told every detail of every event and every thought that went through his head, his father listened in stony silence, attentive and impassive. He told about disarming Heather, fighting the Skrill, his injured wing, and the fight with Dagur. Lying would only work against him, and no amount of reassurances would add credibility to anything he said, so he simply let it all out unchecked. While he normally kept his thoughts to himself, it was a relief to spill it all out in an undignified heap. By the time he told everything to the best of his ability, it felt like hours had passed, though he knew it was closer to a few minutes.

'So I do not know,' he eventually finished, feeling no lighter for having unburdened himself, 'why I cannot decide whether I was right or wrong, or how to feel about any of this, or… anything. I need advice.'

'Give me a few moments,' Nóttleiðtogi requested. He closed his eyes and stood there, motionless.

Nóttreiði waited impatiently, prowling around the marked trees as a way to pass the time. They seemed to have been clawed all around their bases, but not very thoroughly. He couldn't make sense of the marks, and that just made him angry. He couldn't make sense of anything these days. The world had become undecipherable to him. Even his own mind rebelled.

'You want advice,' Nóttleiðtogi rumbled, walking over to stand by him. They stared at the marked tree together for a moment. 'I have some.'

'Please,' Nóttreiði huffed. 'I will listen. I swear.'

'That is actually the first thing I wanted to speak of,' Nóttleiðtogi remarked. 'You need to stop swearing.'

'What?' Of everything he had heard, that was what he decided to say. 'Why?'

'Because you break your word just as easily,' Nóttleiðtogi said, his voice heavy with disapproval. 'I could point out the half-dozen examples in what you have told me, and you could reason them away, but the fact remains. You break your word without hesitation.'

Nóttreiði had no answer to that; it was true. He couldn't even remember thinking about it in some cases, and thinking back, it almost seemed like people expected him to break it…

'So I advise you stop giving your word,' Nóttleiðtogi continued, not seeming to expect an answer. 'Say "I'll try" and do your best to remember what you promise, but do not swear. It means nothing from you, and you throwing that kind of promise around just to break it weakens its power with the rest of us. If others see you breaking your word to no consequence, they will not feel quite so compelled to hold to theirs.'

'No consequences?' He had expected the exact opposite.

Nóttleiðtogi sighed heavily, still staring at the tree in front of them. 'What can anyone do to punish you for breaking your word? Banishment is too harsh and might not work, and I will not lay a claw on you. The only punishment anyone can lay on you is not trusting you in the slightest, and you are a Nótt, so that means very little to you.'

'I want to be trusted,' Nóttreiði objected. Part of his problem was that he wasn't trusted. Not even by Einfari, now.

'Then earn it back.' Now Nóttleiðtogi was looking at him, staring directly into his eye. 'It will take years, because you are a Nótt, and so is Einfari. But it can be done. Stop giving your word until you can make yourself keep it. Correct whatever lets you break it.'

'That will fix everything?'

'No. That might fix one thing.' Nóttleiðtogi shook his head. 'And it is the easiest part of this. You are clearly in the wrong when you break your word. The rest is more nuanced.'

'But you do have more to say?' That couldn't be it; he felt no better about himself.

'Of course. It's fitting that I brought you here.' Nóttleiðtogi pawed at the base of the tree. 'Here is where I have worked for years on end to fix myself. I started trying here. Do you want to know what I think is wrong?'

'That is why I asked.'

'You feel guilty because you know in your heart that Heather means you absolutely no harm. But you've worked against her at every turn, are responsible for her pain right now, and can't let yourself acknowledge just how horrible you've been.'

'That's not it.' He knew that wasn't the whole issue; his father's words had no particular impact. 'I am still making sure she is not a threat. It's possible she is, and it's possible she's not. I don't feel guilty about being careful.'

'Then why did you apologize to her in secret, when she was asleep?' Nóttleiðtogi retorted. 'Son, you are some unknowable mixture of my own bad teaching, inexperienced ways of thinking, guilt, and uncertainty. I am giving my best guess as to what is bothering you, but the truth is that what's bothering you in general is everything you've ever learned conflicting in your head. Until you settle on one way of thinking, that's not going to change.'

That had the ring of truth. 'How do I do that?'

'Go about your life as normal, except for where you need to improve. Follow my lead and try to welcome Heather into our home. In short, do what I have been asking or telling you to do since she arrived,' Nóttleiðtogi said wryly. 'My advice has not changed. I just hope you meant it when you said you would listen.'

'I had hoped for something I could actually do,' Nóttreiði growled. 'Something new and helpful.'

'When you haven't followed the old advice?' his father countered. 'It's hard for me to tell you what your next step should be when you have yet to take the first.'

Nóttreiði clawed at the base of the tree, adding his claw marks to the ones that likely came from his father. 'And if I don't?'

'I think you have found out what happens if you do not try to improve,' his father growled. 'Things go badly. You feel guilty. You end up even more confused. And it will always feel like the world is against you, because your allies, friends, and family cannot trust you completely.'

'If I do try?' Nóttreiði whispered. 'What then?'

'We want you to try,' Nóttleiðtogi replied just as quietly. 'It's hard, and it's frustrating, and it's slow. But the reward is clearing that confusion and knowing who you are. Not feeling like there are two worlds, and you are stuck flailing about in both, unable to pick one. You're a good person, and not letting yourself see the truth hurts more than admitting your mistakes ever could.'

'How do you know?' he asked, not really sure there would be an answer.

Nóttleiðtogi draped a wing over him, pulling him close. 'I know because a bad person would have embraced being a monster. If you were bad, you would have thrown yourself into it, hiding from your pain by inviting it until you were numb to the horror. It is hard to feel guilty or confused if one knows there is absolutely no lower one can sink..'

That was no comfort; he could remember thinking things scarily close to that line of reasoning, and if he could consider it…

'I can't tell you exactly how to improve,' Nóttleiðtogi murmured. 'But I can tell you that your sisters are the key. That much is obvious from what I know.'

Nóttreiði nodded. That didn't make much sense, but it felt right. Maybe he would figure it out later. But if he needed his sisters' help… 'What will you tell her?'

'Einfari? What she needs to hear to continue giving you a chance, while not speaking of anything that happened here,' his father hummed soothingly. 'I will not speak of this moment to them. To Skarpur, yes, because she is your mother and deserves to know, but not to your sisters.'

'And Heather?'

'Like I said,' Nóttleiðtogi rumbled, 'I will not speak of what either of us said here. But I can give her a frank assessment of you, if you'd like.'

'Which is?'

'I'm not telling you. You don't need to hear it. And it will mean more to her if I can truthfully say you agreed to let me give my assessment without knowing what it was.'

How was Nóttleiðtogi going to do that without talking about specifics? Nóttreiði decided he didn't need to know. 'Yes. Tell her.'

'One thing has improved since you left,' his father remarked. 'You trust me again.'

'When did..?' Nóttreiði trailed off, remembering the answer to his own question. He hadn't trusted his father when it came to humans, not for a long time. But now…

He still didn't understand his own reasoning, and his father had not given him the easy answers he had hoped for. Very little had changed. So why did he feel just a little bit better about everything?

'The pack is meeting in a little while to hear from Maour and Toothless,' a mental voice called out from deep in the cavern.

Skarpur tilted her head, looking in that direction. 'She could have come in here and told us more directly,' she murmured, 'but I appreciate the courtesy. Understood!' She roared the last part, making the cavern echo wildly for a few moments.

Heather covered her ears reflexively. Once the cacophony had died down, though, she had a question. "Why do you sometimes roar and sometimes not?"

'What do you mean?' Einfari asked, looking up from her somewhat one-sided wrestling match with Joy. The younger Fury took that as a chance to wriggle out from under her sister, successfully escaping, only to be absently pinned anew by Einfari.

"What just happened," Heather clarified. "The dragon telling us about the pack meeting didn't roar, but she was still loud enough. How does that work?"

Skarpur hummed consideringly, now understanding the question. 'I did not think about it,' she volunteered. 'I could have been loud without the roar.'

'It can be done without,' Einfari agreed. 'All I do to make myself loud is to want to be loud. Same for keeping my voice down.'

'But roaring makes it easier to want to be loud, because you're already doing so,' Skarpur concluded. 'It depends on intent. Maybe the Eldurs could explain better. I've certainly never given it a second thought.'

'Why the interest, anyway?' Einfari asked.

Heather shrugged her shoulders. "Just wondering." She didn't have any other motive; it had just struck her as strange. There wasn't much else she could do at the moment anyway, leaning against the far wall of the cavern in an attempt to take weight off of her injury.

'Skarpur,' a more familiar voice called from the other exit to the cavern, the one leading outside, 'could you and Heather come out here?'

Heather winced, shifting her weight back to both feet. That had been Nóttleiðtogi. Time to see what he was going to do with all he had been told… by Nóttreiði. This was going to be dangerous. 'Einfari?'

'He only called for you and me,' Skarpur admonished. 'Einfari, stay with Joy.'

'Got it,' Einfari agreed. Too easily, in Heather's opinion-

Then she felt Einfari accessing her sense of hearing, and understood. Walking out with Skarpur was not easy, not with her injury, but it was easier knowing that her friend was with her in mind. Skarpur even let Heather lean on her once the obvious limp caught her attention.

'At least it did not hit further up,' Skarpur remarked, moving slower so that Heather could keep up. 'You said Astrid got you as you turned to run?'

"Yes." She had been brief about that part for Joy's sake, but her injury had been easy enough to explain.

'How did you get away after?'

Heather didn't reply for a moment, too busy reviewing her memory of the fight. She had turned, been stabbed in the behind, and then stumbled away… too slowly to get away, for sure. Astrid must have let her try to flee…

"Astrid was hoping a Night Fury would land by me," she realized. "So she let me get a little distance, thinking she would have a shot at my rescuer. She didn't count on how we had planned to get away." The airlift tactic had paid off, big time.

'Obsession does make people predictable,' Skarpur purred smugly. They walked out of the cavern-

Skarpur surged forward, depriving Heather of her support and almost unbalancing her to boot, and stopped just short of running into her son. 'Nóttreiði, your face!' she exclaimed.

'Mom should not have left you,' Einfari remarked unhappily, commenting on the scene only Heather knew she could see.

Heather wavered on her feet, momentarily more concerned with staying upright. Skarpur had left her in the small clearing in front of the cavern entrance, and there was nothing for her to lean against. Lying in the saddle for weeks on end meant she wasn't in the best condition to start with, and her injury was making it hard to remain standing without support.

Then another Night Fury came up behind her and hesitantly offered the leading edge of his wing. Heather grabbed on without thought.

Then she wondered who was supporting her, and looked back.

Nóttleiðtogi. She was holding onto Nóttleiðtogi's wing.

'I won't bite,' he admonished quietly. 'I am… fine… with this. Besides, you need help.'

"Can you take me over to a tree or something?" Heather requested. "I can lean on something else if I can get to it." Or she could sit down, but that wasn't really a good idea. Her injury hurt enough as it was.

'Yes.' He slowly walked her over to the edge of the forest furthest from his son and mate.

Heather lurched away from his wing and onto the first tree she could reach, sparing no time. The moment she was off of him, Nóttleiðtogi folded his wing in and shivered slightly.

'It is not easy,' he said, looking directly at her. 'But I am trying.'

'Thank you. How..?' she began, before trailing off, leaving the question unfinished She was more than impressed. How had he improved enough to voluntarily touch her at all, if she hadn't even been around to get used to?

'I don't know,' he admitted, answering her cut-off inquiry. 'You are hurt, unarmed, and in no way dangerous. I just heard about how loyal you have been to my daughter, and of other things. But none of that is a real answer.'

Heather nodded. She was just glad he was improving. Especially as she hadn't put any effort into helping that along recently.

'I approve of how you conducted yourself,' he continued, surprising her even more. 'Everyone returned alive, there is a promising alliance available for the pack to consider, and you even somehow managed to avoid raising my son's ire in your direction, for the most part.' He purred quietly. 'This also goes for you, Einfari. I know you're listening. I will tell you myself later. Right now, though, I want to speak to Heather alone. Really alone.'

Einfari mentally barked in surprise, and then quickly pulled away from Heather's senses, acting like she had just been caught eavesdropping… which she had, in a way.

"She's gone now," Heather said, well aware that Nóttleiðtogi was going to have to trust her on that one. "But what gave it away in the first place?"

'Nothing. I simply assumed that since she was not here, she was with you. As I will anytime I wish for privacy around either of you.' He walked around the tree she was leaning against, putting his tail to his mate and son, who were now apparently arguing, though quietly enough that Heather wasn't able to discern what they were saying.

'I want to trust you,' he began slowly. 'And I believe I can, in time. But not yet. You understand, right?'

Heather nodded. She understood that he needed time, a lot of it. She didn't get why he wanted this private from Einfari, but that would probably make sense at some point later on, once she had time to puzzle through his motives.

'Because, after hearing all you have done, I feel guilty,' Nóttleiðtogi admitted. 'My son does not have any reason to paint you in a positive light, and did not, but he told me you have killed in defence of Einfari. That is not something I think you could do lightly.'

Had she? Yes, she had stabbed a wounded Berserker on the ship after Nóttreiði's capture. It wasn't a small thing, but she hadn't thought much of it, far too wrapped up in the larger endeavor, freeing Nóttreiði and getting away from the disaster they had let him fly into. "I did, but…"

'But judging by your expression and scent, you had forgotten about it, or Nóttreiði lied to make you look good, which I find highly unlikely.' Nóttleiðtogi let out a slow, rumbling laugh, before growing solemn again. 'I am moving, but too slowly. Your presence still bothers me on a level I cannot ignore. But it will not always do so. I am going to make sure of that.'

"Thank you?" Heather offered doubtfully.

'Thank you,' Nóttleiðtogi countered. 'I know you did not go for my children, you went to kill Dagur. But you have mostly given that up, and I can only see one reason, even if you did not give it. Only one that makes sense.'

"I'm still going to kill him," Heather objected. "If I get an actually viable chance." She certainly wouldn't spare him if given the choice.

'And you will have my family's aid,' Nóttleiðtogi promised solemnly. 'I believe you picked us over revenge at some point on this trip, and I cannot stress highly enough how much that means. I know that choice and what it means.'

Heather couldn't believe he had gotten that from listening to Nóttreiði's version of events. She also wasn't sure if the choice she… had made, in a sense… was as important as he thought. But she certainly wasn't going to turn down his acceptance, even if it was based on something she didn't see as meriting it. The end result was the same.

Nóttleiðtogi wasn't finished, either. 'I should also tell you that Nóttreiði is not in a good place right now. He is confused and conflicted.'

"You say that like it's a good thing," Heather observed, too off-balance to stop herself.

'It is,' Nóttleiðtogi replied. 'He is standing on an edge between who he was and something else. Keep pulling him toward the rest of us. It's working.'

Heather wasn't sure if she liked that analogy, because Nóttleiðtogi had very deliberately failed to say what 'something else' might be. If he was sure his son was falling into the right ways of thinking, he would have said so. There was still much uncertainty and room for error.

But it was nice to be told she was doing something, especially when she couldn't see any of it for herself.

Or maybe she could. "The apology..?" she ventured, keeping what she said vague enough that Nóttleiðtogi would misinterpret it unless he already knew exactly what she was talking about.

'I can't say. Maybe you will be able to ask him at some point in the near future,' Nóttleiðtogi offered. 'When the time is right. I trust you to seize the chance when you see it.'

"I'll try." She didn't know what trying would mean, but it wasn't like she was promising to do anything new. Working on Nóttreiði and his father was part of her plans for the future already.

But it felt good to be told she was making progress.

The central cavern was not as occupied as it should be. Everyone available was attending the meeting, but that excluded most of the Eldurs, who were either on patrol or watching their youngest member, as well as Toothless, who was with the Svartur eggs, and several of the Myrkurs, who were also out, presumably watching the island and the waters immediately around it.

Maour wasn't entirely comfortable with that. He understood that the dozen or so dragons present were all that could be spared, but this was a big decision, and everyone should be allowed to have their say.

But speed trumped being inclusive in this case, and the leading mated couple from each family was present, meaning that the general opinions of each family would be heard. All of the riders were there too, though the Myrkur siblings and the twins had only just made it in time, obviously coming in from a long patrol, looking dead on their paws.

Wait, no, not all of the riders were there. "Where's Heather?" he called out, asking Einfari.

'Laid up in our cavern, watching through my eyes,' Einfari replied. 'She's having trouble standing, but she should be fine sooner or later.'

That was probably thanks to flying for weeks on end. Maour winced in sympathy. Heather was lucky the link was so useful for avoiding the pain most of the time. As she was, she probably preferred experiencing things like this through Einfari. At least that was an option.

"We should get this started," Fishlegs suggested. "Some of us have to go relieve the dragons on long patrol routes soon."

"Do me a favor and fill me in on what we're doing," Maour requested. "What's been going on here?"

'Simple,' Eldurfjall explained. 'Berserker ships have been combing the area, looking for Heather, we think. We watch the waters around the island in concentric circles, each one covering a different distance away from the center point-'

'We patrol in optimal routes,' Nóttleiðtogi interrupted, 'and make sure we know about any Berserker ship headed anywhere near us. We stay out of sight because 'disappearing' any of their ships will draw attention from the others.'

"But we didn't start doing that soon enough," Fishlegs added. "We've taken out three Berserker ships, and they know something is up with the general area around Mahelmetan. So there are a lot of Berserkers around."

'Blame the Myrkurs for those three ships,' Eldurský said. 'The rest of us were smart enough to stay out of sight, but once the Myrkurs got bored, they took risks and were seen, and that meant we had to wipe out the ship doing the seeing.'

To the Myrkurs credit, none of them objected or defended their actions. Myrkursprenging looked like he wanted to, but his mother's stern glare silenced him.

Maour supposed he couldn't have expected better. Overall, they had done well, but it wouldn't last if something didn't change. This was about when the Night Fury pack would usually pick up and leave, but they couldn't and wouldn't do that now.

Luckily, he had some good news for them. "You did well enough," he said loudly, drawing everyone's attention to himself. "Better than I did in some ways."

"It would be great to hear that Dagur gave up after talking to you," Fishlegs offered hopefully.

"Not even close." Maour cast a sidelong glance at Einfari, and she nodded significantly. He hoped that meant Heather was okay with him explaining Dagur's motives and thus connection to her, but it didn't really matter, as he had to explain whether or not she approved. "But that wasn't the first thing that happened after we left…"

Heather was glad she was only tapping into Einfari's senses of hearing and sight at the moment. Joy had curled up beside her in the cavern, and she liked the warm, purring mass beside her. A small comfort as she faced a feeling she hadn't felt in months.

Though the comfort was mostly counteracted by knowing Nóttreiði might flip out if he came into the cavern and saw her with Joy. Heather didn't know where he was at the moment; he wasn't in the central cavern, and he wasn't in the Nótt section of the caves, either.

But Skarpur had specifically told Joy to keep her company, so it wasn't like Nóttreiði would actually be able to get her in trouble. Einfari could be back in less than a minute if needed, anyway.

Heather was actually more concerned about the knowledge Maour was currently passing on to the rest of the pack. What did it say about her, that she was so worried about how the Night Furies would take her apparent connection to Dagur? Probably just that she cared what they thought, despite not knowing most of them personally. Not necessarily anything more than that.

'Don't worry,' Einfari murmured, correctly anticipating Heather's anxiety on the subject. 'The Myrkurs will respect you more, the Svarturs won't care, and the Eldurs are too careful and timid to do anything even if they don't like it.'

That wasn't as comforting as Einfari probably intended it. Heather would prefer to be accepted, not defended by the cowardice of any who might oppose her. Not that she had much of a choice. Besides, she didn't like it, so she understood why they wouldn't.

Then the main cavern burst into argument, and Heather was reminded that she wasn't just lying in a dark cavern with Joy. "What happened?"

Einfari shook her head, looking across the open space at the flat-topped stalagmite Maour was standing on. He was patiently waiting for the roared objections to die down.

"I broke no rules," he yelled once the noise had died down enough for anyone to have a chance of hearing him. "Everyone who was with me can vouch for that!"

'It's true!' Einfari roared, adding her voice to the tumult. 'So shut up and listen!'

'Effective, but offensive,' Nóttleiðtogi murmured to Einfari from his spot to her left. 'It is better to make people think you are on their side, or at least neutral, even if they are acting like frightened fledglings instead of rational adults.'

'But how they think of me at the moment doesn't matter, and by drawing their ire, I redirect it from Maour, who actually needs them to listen,' Einfari countered, gesturing with her tail at the Myrkurs, who were all sticking their tongues out at her. 'See?'

'That's a good point,' Skarpur admitted, joining the conversation from Nóttleiðtogi's other side, 'but only if Maour can take their attention back away from you.'

"Dagur is coming!" Maour declared. "Not directly here, but he's coming for his fleet, and Astrid is with him. We need to do something, and I have a solution."

'Tell us more about this solution,' Nóttleiðtogi called out. He already knew the basics of the alliance Maour had forged, so he had to be speaking up to help Maour along.

Heather was distracted from the discussion in the main cavern by a very heavy paw poking her uninjured side. "Yes?" she asked, coming back to her own senses for a moment.

'I want to put my head on your legs,' Joy requested. 'You're soft and I'm tired. Can I?'

Heather didn't feel like saying no, even if she suspected the extra weight would make her backside ache. She was only barely keeping her weight off of it in a way that didn't tire her other leg out as it was. But Joy…

Heather tried not to look at the wide-eyed, hopeful expression Joy had adopted. It was cute, but she knew that was the point. Even the youngest Nótt had her ways of getting what she wanted.

On the other hand, there was no reason to say no aside from a little discomfort, and she was going to be uncomfortable no matter what she did in any case. "Sure, but if I tell you to-"

Joy lunged forward and dropped her chin across Heather's lap, making herself comfortable. Her eyes closed almost immediately, and her ears drooped down in a way Heather had come to recognize as either sad or relaxed to the point of falling asleep.

"Never mind," Heather muttered, seeing all the telltale signs of just how quickly Joy wouldn't be able to hear her if she asked her to move. "I wonder what you've been doing to be tired already." It wasn't far past midnight, from what she could tell. Joy could only have been up for a few hours.

'Playing, running, flying,' Joy rumbled. 'Got up before the sun set…'

Or maybe she had been up for more than a few hours. There was probably something to that; Heather assumed Skarpur and Nóttleiðtogi were changing Joy's schedule to more easily fit the times one of them had to go out and fly one of the patrol routes she had heard mentioned a few minutes ago.

Heather put a hand on Joy's head, right between her ears, and turned her attention back to Einfari in the cavern. She needed to know what was going on.

'Welcome back,' Einfari said quietly. She was still watching Maour, who was talking directly to one of the Eldurs. 'You're lucky you can tune out for the boring parts we already know. Maour's just getting to the interesting parts now.'

"How did everyone take it?" Heather asked.

'We'll see in a second. Just watch.'

"So they don't know about this place, but they are coming to Mahelmetan, because it's the center of trade around here," Maour concluded. "We can fight this whole war without anyone, enemy or ally, knowing of our home. It won't even be that hard."

'Assuming we agree to this,' Eldurfjall clarified. 'You did not commit the pack to anything yet, correct?'

"Correct," Maour agreed. "Beyond involving Toothless and myself, no commitment has been made. I have a copy of the agreement if you want to look over it-"

"I do!" Fishlegs volunteered. "Later, though, since you've covered all the important details."

'But we should be allowed to voice our opinions and then vote on it,' Nóttleiðtogi said sternly. 'Can we count Maour's actions as representing the Svarturs?'

'No,' Svarturskuggi replied evenly. 'He made that clear in only committing himself and his brother. But we support this whole-heartedly. Enough caution has been taken to make it worth the little risk that remains.'

Heather was momentarily surprised Maour's family didn't immediately support him. What made it even more contradictory was that they approved. Was there some sort of technical point they were trying to make, saying that Maour didn't speak for them before approving anyway? She would have to ask someone later.

'The Eldurs want to hear what the Nótts have to say about it,' Eldurský barked. 'I don't like it, personally, but that's just me.'

'What the Nótts think?' Skarpur repeated. She looked over at her mate, and then Einfari.

Heather tried to catch a glimpse of Maour out of the corner of Einfari's eye. She would bet he was at least a little worried right now. Luckily for him, the Nótts already had plenty of time to discuss this, because she and Einfari had already told them about the alliance and what it meant. So she knew the answer already.

'Simple,' Skarpur continued. 'The necessary precautions have been taken. Even if these humans are not safe for us to interact with long-term, we can use them to rid ourselves of a definite enemy now, and take the rest as it comes. They are all weaker than the current foe, even together. As long as we are the force that tips the balance in their favor, them turning on us is still better than the alternative of not using them, because only together is our combined strength greater than the current enemy.'

All well reasoned out, but it must have come as a surprise to the other families, who all probably expected the cautious and cynical Nótts to disapprove of an alliance with humans.

Heather couldn't let herself feel too superior, though. She had expected it to be a tough sell with Skarpur and Nóttleiðtogi, meaning she was guilty of making the same mistake. Assuming the Nótts would let their caution blind them to the tactical advantages of anything was a bad idea.

'If the Nótts are in, so are we!' Myrkurhryðjuverk announced. 'But don't let the humans get all of the action when it comes to fighting.'

'The Eldurs…' Eldurfjall shook his head. 'Honestly, we would not support this if we saw a better way. It is almost inevitable that something will go wrong. But as there is nothing better available, we will not argue against it.'

'Are they just scared of change?' Einfari asked quietly.

'More of the consequences, I think,' Nóttleiðtogi replied. 'They know much of the past. More than enough to have a good idea of just how badly this could go wrong. But I think it is safe to guess that they know of nothing in the past that can say how this could go right. So it scares them.'

"So everyone is in agreement?" Maour asked hopefully. "The 'Isle of Night' applies to all of us, not just me and Toothless?"

"Hey, wait a minute!" one of the twins objected. "Are you setting yourself up as Chief, Maour?"

"What?" Maour said, sounding surprised. "No. Why would I want to lead anything?"

"Hey, it was a fair question," the other twin replied. "I mean, you are asking us to join your 'Isle of Night,' the one you founded, and the one you speak for in the outside world. Everyone is going to think you're in charge unless you can point to somebody and say 'I follow his orders.'"

Heather was forced to reevaluate her assessment of the twins, hearing that. They hadn't struck her as smart enough to pick up on that, but it seemed she was wrong.

"I don't want to be in charge," Maour asserted, sounding as if he was serious about it. "And I don't want to be the only one speaking for us, either. Besides, that wouldn't work. I was thinking we could send some other riders out in a few weeks, to accompany the ships our allies bring over."

That was new; Heather knew nothing about such a plan. Maour might be just now coming up with it.

'Yes,' Skarpur called out, latching onto the idea immediately. 'Four human packs, correct? And they will not be traveling together. Send a rider and dragon to each, to guide them safely around our island on the way to Mahelmetan.'

'That sounds like a good way to never see our children again,' Eldurfjall objected. 'One pair, alone among supposed allies who will have nothing stopping them from deciding they want our dragon or human dead?'

'We cannot very well send more,' Svarturkló growled. 'Our patrols will be short-winged as it is with four gone. Any more than that and it will become impossible to protect this place adequately.'

'Svarturkló, you are speaking with your mind addled by your eggs,' Myrkurhryðjuverk said dismissively. 'We can afford to send a few more.'

Heather very distinctly heard Skarpur's truly angry growl. She didn't need to be told to understand that dismissing Svarturkló purely on account of the eggs she had recently laid was offensive. It made total sense.

'That was out of line,' Svarturskuggi snarled, flaring his wings as if threatening to fly over to the Myrkur ledge. 'And my mate is totally right. As is, we are barely able to all get enough rest between flights. Sending more dragons than we have just gotten back will make it even harder. Too many, and we won't have enough bodies to cover all the area we must.'

'Just the four with their riders, then,' Eldurfjall interjected. 'But we must discuss safety, precautions, and how the humans are likely to react, along with why we would need to send anyone to them anyway.'

Heather felt one of Joy's ears flick her hand, and slowly pulled back to her own sight and hearing. Sometimes dragons moved in their sleep, but she had noticed that flicking ears usually meant something had been heard…

Nóttreiði. He had stuck his head in, looking in on her and Joy. His eyes narrowed, but when he spoke, it was with no obvious hatred. 'Where is everyone?'

Heather responded without thinking it through. "In the main cavern."

Nóttreiði nodded and left.

"Is that it?" Heather whispered to herself. She was… surprised, to say the least. No snarling about getting away from his sister? His sleeping, defenceless sister?

There were explanations, of course. Maybe Skarpur or Nóttleiðtogi had ordered him to leave her alone. Maybe he was used to her being around Joy, given that she, Joy, and Einfari usually shared a side cavern. Maybe he didn't think her dangerous with her injury.

There was no way to know. Heather was just glad he hadn't forced her to move. Her eyelids were growing heavy, and Joy's weight on her lap didn't hurt at all. There was nothing to do, and it wasn't likely Heather could go anywhere without waking Joy. The pack would be debating the idea of sending riders to ships for hours, probably… and she wouldn't be one of them. Four were needed, and she made five. There was no way they would send her.

That was good. She needed the time. Time to rest, time to recover, and time to improve herself in every way possible. She and Einfari had come up with a list of skills one or both of them should work on sharpening, and every advantage would be needed. The war had not yet begun, and Heather planned to be as ready as she could possibly be.