Skirting the northern edge of the fishing grounds, Brenna's boat easily pulled through the waves. She put up the appearance of fishing, though in reality there was little room in her hold now. Several times one of the despicable dragon riders wheeled overhead, but took no interest in her Hooligan fishing boat on Hooligan waters.

It had been a harrowing month, the journey taking longer than expected due to some bad weather and then spending a few days in a cell. Another storm had created delays on the way back, but for a completely different reason. Idiots. Well, they were here now.

The boat went unchallenged on its way to the island, just as planned, and disappeared into the shadows of the channel through it. She quickly swung around to moor against a low outcrop of rock, just low enough to climb up onto.

At a trio of stamps on the deck, activity exploded from the hold.

Anyone? Hellooo? Dreamer wheeled in the air above Berk, Wanderer wheeling opposite him, and while there were people pointing up at them from below they were yet to spot any of the teens or their dragons. Then again, he supposed Astrid and Fishlegs would be busy with something, and who knew what the twins did with their time.

His stomach grumpily made its displeasure known and he became impatient, so with a sharp bank he angled himself out over the docks to see if any hauls were being brought in. He was surveying the situation below when an enthusiastic shout caught his ears – Barf and Belch had emerged from the forest and were heading for them with a distinctive pair of blonde teens waving from the dragon's necks. The two heads even looked pleased to see them, grinning and croaking happily as they approached.

Dreamer had to duck out of the way as the three – four? – of them shot through the air he'd previously been occupying, and they all swooped and soared around each other for a few minutes. Until his stomach made another loud complaint, at which point he gnashed his teeth a few times at Tuffnut and they all glided down to the docks.

There was a single burly man carrying in his haul who found himself distracted by Ruffnut while Tuffnut thoughtfully lightened the load of the two barrels he was carrying. He was still none the wiser when he was allowed to proceed. Both Furies bounded forward and snapped up their fish, making short work of them and purring as the ache in their bellies subsided.

"Woar, hungry littel guys," Ruffnut remarked.

Tuffnut grinned. "Yeah, but little Hiccy's looking heaps better. In fact…" He pounced at Dreamer, knocking him over and lightly scratching at his belly. "You're almost tubby now! Tubby Fury!"

A squeal escaped Dreamer's throat as he tried to kick away the offending hands that darted for his ticklish spots, somehow sneaking through the dangerous zone of claws and teeth. "Help!" he implored as Wanderer's head appeared above him.

Wanderer's response was to give him a toothy grin and start snapping at his frills. Dreamer automatically threw his paws up to bat him away – and was promptly assaulted again by Tuffnut. Traitor! Dreamer screeched manically as he squirmed and thrashed against the dual attack, then managed to throw himself to his paws and dart behind Ruffnut's legs from where he growled at his attackers.

"Yeahr! That wasn't fayr!" Ruffnut barked. Yeah you tell them! She looked down at him with a broad grin and lunged at her brother, dropping and pinning him in short order.

Dreamer grinned widely and took his time padding over, sitting down just inside Tuffnut's field of vision and taking a moment to inspect his claws.

"Oh no, no, not the claws, ahah, nonono, hahaha, help! Help meeee!" He struggled and laughed breathlessly as Ruffnut held him down and Dreamer prodded and raked at his belly, wary of his fragile skin. Wanderer sat off to the side, probably not wanting to get involved now that Ruffnut was in the fray. "Why me…" the teen gasped as the revenge relented.

Oh he's getting some too, don't worry... Dreamer casually padded over to the bigger Nightstriker, giving him a purr and a nuzzle. Wanderer was suspicious, but still not quite fast enough to avoid a wet lick up the back of his ear. He yelped and dropped to the ground, pawing at his head and rolling around to a bizarre chorus of human, Fury, and Zippleback laughter.

Dreamer had missed this.

His ears pricked at the telltale thrumming of Meatlug's wings, but he was immediately distracted by Wanderer tackling him. He was sure to hold his ears firmly against his neck, wriggling and batting so as to not give his attacker a chance to pry one loose.

Fishlegs' happy shouts as Meatlug landed distracted Wanderer long enough for Dreamer to kick him off and escape, and he took a moment to clean up the soggy mess over his head and neck and give himself a shake.

"Hey," Fishlegs barked to get his attention after a few Norse words of welcome that Dreamer had chosen not to decipher. "You come? See thing." He then said something quietly to the twins, who hurried onto Barf and Belch and flew away. Something was definitely strange there…

Dreamer cocked his head curiously at Fishlegs, but he just hopped onto Meatlug and took to the air looking very excited. The two Nightstrikers shared a confused and curious look before leaping up after him. They were led over to the training ring, but Fishlegs didn't descend into it. Instead, he dropped into a hover next to the cliff a short way above it and beckoned madly, face a wild mix of impatience and excitement.

Slowing into a hover, Dreamer's eyes went wide and his frills stood out as a shallow indent in the rock became visible, only recently carved judging by some of the rough edges, and just about tall enough for maybe Spitelout to stand in. And then his mouth hung open as he drifted closer and discovered it wasn't shallow at all, curving into the rock in a way that couldn't be easily seen from outside. "For us?" he asked incredulously, barely waiting for Fishlegs' eager nodding before throwing himself inside.

It smelled heavily of rock dust, definitely recently carved out, and distantly of sweat which would be replaced before long. The ground was a strange texture, the roughly hewn rock having been hammered smooth but not yet feeling worn and sealed. He approvingly noted that there was a very gentle incline into the cave so that it would not collect and trap rain.

In the back of the cave there was maybe about enough room for an adult Fury to stretch out without wings or tail touching the walls or being visible from outside. It would be cozy for the two of them fully grown, but that might not be a bad thing and if necessary it could be expanded.

But most of all, it was completely inaccessible except through the air, and most other dragons would have difficulty navigating inside.

It was perfect.

Wanderer evidently thought so as well, as he was busily rubbing his cheek against the edge of the wall at the entrance. After a moment of thought, Dreamer did the same on the other side.

"Sso yoo lai' it 'en?" Fishlegs called over Meatlug's wingbeats. Dreamer responded by bounding excitably in a circle. "'Ood! Ca' to 'e ate ohr ah ssar'ow'!"

"…What?" He pawed at an ear.

Fishlegs rolled his eyes. "Come, rock-nest, sky-fire…" He scratched his head, then pointed at the ocean, and Dreamer managed to fill in the blanks – come to the Great Hall at sundown.

"Yes," he chuffed. Probably a feast or something. Vikings, any excuse to drink and eat… Not that I'm arguing…

"…His words not get better…" Wanderer mused as the Gronckle flew off.

"No," Dreamer laughed, before setting about the very important task of rolling around the new den.

It was still a few hours before dusk, but the time passed quickly. They explored every inch of the cave with their noses, stopping occasionally to overwrite an offending scent, then practised flying in and out for the fun of it before spending some time chasing each other around and more rolling about. It all smelled of Nightstriker by the time the sky-fire neared the ocean.

"You Rock-Scale now!" Dreamer laughed.

Wanderer, now a matte grey colour, imparted his offense to this notion with a sharp bite to the ear. "We should clean. Grass or swim?"

"Sweet-grass?" Dreamer chirped jokingly as he licked the side of his paw to rub his hurt ear with. "Hrrr, I think both."

"Both good," Wanderer agreed. "Race!"

Dreamer forgot about his ear and scrabbled after him, leaping from the new den and straining to catch up. Nimble though he was, Wanderer was faster in a straight line and easily remained ahead for the flight to the cove. Dreamer dropped straight into the lake, but Wanderer landed in the shallows to keep an eye and ear out for the wild Fire-Scale.

Taking it in turns to keep watch, they had to work the dust off their scales and alternated a few times between the lake and the grass. Dreamer was acutely aware of the sun going down, but the dust was proving resilient. Grr, this was going to be an annoying aspect of the new den for a while, though it was worse on this occasion due to their antics.

After finishing the job for each other and ensuring they were shiny and black again – if somewhat damp – they made their way back to the village with the remnants of the sky-fire visible over the water. Just in time.

Dreamer dropped down in front of the doors of the Great Hall, a subdued murmur of a crowd audible from inside, but was caught off-guard by Wanderer's cautious hiss. He spun in surprise to see his friend with his eyes narrowed tensely at the structure.

"…I good," Wanderer growled, "I not can not trust every den…" But the steps he took were uncertain.

Dreamer hopped back and pressed his neck to his friend's. "No Long-Paw attack us in there. Trust me."

"I trust you," Wanderer nuzzled back, then strode forward more confidently. Dreamer gave his wings a few happy shakes before following.

A hushed silence settled over the hall as they entered. The crowd parted for them to approach the slightly raised section that held the Chief's table, at which his sire was sat in his big chair at the head and the teens down the length of it. Okaaay… Getting weird… Stoick eagerly beckoned them up, and the two Nightstrikers shared a nervous look. Not wanting to prolong this awkward scene, Dreamer flapped over and took his place on the comfortably raised seat at the table with Wanderer joining him a moment later. Astrid looked even more excited than Fishlegs and the twins, who beamed at him.

Wait… This is…

"Hooleegahns!" Stoick shouted suddenly, interrupting Dreamer's thoughts and making Wanderer jump. He then spoke, his great voice easily carrying across the hall while barely as much as being raised. "This is an unusual night, but we live in unusual times. I know this will be hard, Odin knows it was for me, but we need a change of thinking. The days of killing and being killed by dragons are over. We've lived in peace with them for nearly two years now.

"But it's clear that some are having trouble letting go of the old ways. Now, we are Vikings, our stubbornness has seen us through some dark times, and I don't expect you all to suddenly make friends, but if you must distrust and hate then keep it to yourself."

Dreamer took a moment to glance around the hall, easily able to pick out expressions from the light of the fire and torches. Most were pensive, there were a few who wore scowls or frowns but nobody seemed outright rebellious. Not while in a crowd in front of their Chief, anyway.

"I don't need to remind you all what happened. I like to think none here would repeat that treasonous offense, but it's clear there must be precautions. Therefore!"

Fishlegs waved to get their attention, then crudely translated the next part into Dragonese.

"I am officially extending hospitality to these two Night Furies as honoured guests for the foreseeable future!"

"Nest need think good you now. Much bad for nest if attack you."

Dreamer understood the implications. Going against the Chief's word was treason, but breaking hospitality would reserve a special place in Hel for the offender regardless of the circumstances. He'd never expected that to encompass a dragon though, and the crowd was similarly unsure of how to take it. A murmur of surprise and curiosity was prevalent, but there were undertones of unease and discontent. He managed to temper his own reaction of outright shock to a moderate surprise – silently thanking Fishlegs for thinking to translate as it was said – but was further thrown off as all the teens subtly leaned forward with their elbows out in a show of welcome. Even Snotlout, who he'd being ignoring so far, though he held a curiously flat expression.

"Andd nao!" Stoick shouted a little louder than was necessary. "Llet us ffeasst!"

A horde of footsteps announced servers bringing in endless trays of foods, the smells instantly filling the hall and sending both Nightstrikers into uncontrollable drooling. The Chief's table was of course the first to be served and was piled high with food in short order, and as honoured guests the Nightstrikers had first pick. Which was good because Wanderer wasn't waiting for anybody to quickly – but still neatly – tear into a whole roast chicken.

The atmosphere quickly transitioned from tense to impatient and then more slowly to jovial as the tables were gradually filled with food and drink. Stoick certainly knew how to deal with Vikings, hit them with some big news and then feed them until they pass out. Hmm, the same probably applied to dragons, come to think of it, but maybe with sweet-grass instead of ale. Dreamer giggled at the vision of an all-dragon feast in which sweet-grass was suddenly brought out for everyone.

"Hey!" came an excited chirp in a much higher voice than Fishlegs', and both Furies looked up to see Astrid almost ready to explode from excitement. "You have good hunting?"

Dreamer's ears and frills stood on end while he stared, and it took him a few moments to find his own words. "Yes! We eat much. But not this much." He gestured to the food in front of him before downing a whole smoked fish.

Astrid bounced in her seat, and Dreamer had little doubt that if there had not been a table full of food in the way she would be all over them. The excitement was contagious and his tail wagged happily. "You go where? We not see you," she asked.

"We Nightstrikers," Wanderer huffed, and Astrid and Fishlegs laughed.

"How your leg?" she asked Dreamer in a more serious tone.

It'd been a while since he'd needed to talk like a dragon fledgling. Thankfully he was more practised this time, and spending time in the wild had helped too. "Not hurt now, I fast again!" He bit Wanderer's ear. "Faster than you!"

Wanderer growled and batted him away. "I stronger than you. Bigger also." He puffed his chest out proudly.

"I think better." He stretched his tail around to tickle at Wanderer's opposite flank, then when he growled at it and batted it away Dreamer pinched the mutton leg he'd been eating. Everyone, including Stoick, burst out laughing. Wanderer looked around at them in confusion, then narrowed his eyes at Dreamer's toothy grin – oblivious to what was in his claws – and went to return to his dinner. Which was no longer there. Dreamer gave him an innocent look and offered him the bare bone back.

"I get you for this…" he muttered, selecting a rack of ribs to pick apart as everyone continued laughing.

Stealing the food reminded Dreamer of something. "Hungry Fire-Scale on small-land this light, try eat us" he said to Fishlegs, then snorted at seeing his and Astrid's expressions. "Try eat us. We fast! But I faster." Wanderer growled at him and he grinned back.

"What? What happened?" Tuffnut asked.

"Yeahrr, wll sumwun fill us inn hhere?" Ruffnut echoed.

"They were chassed by a Nightmare onn 'he island," Astrid explained.

"Hah, yeah, like a Nightmare could catch a Fury," Tuffnut smirked.

Stoick stroked his enormous beard. "Nightmares arr aggressive, but I've never heard of them attakking other dragons."

"Theyy will if thair hungry enuff, apparenttly," Fishlegs explained. "They're normally prtty good huntrrs though, it masst be injured or something."

"An injurred and aggressive drahgon on the ayland… Can you take care of it?" Stoick rumbled.

"Yessir."

Dreamer chirped at Fishlegs. "Fire-Scale very hungry. Take much food. Also take rock-head, also his Fire-Scale, maybe help."

"Rock… Hayy, watt'd yoo corll me!?" Snotlout barked.

Dreamer rolled his eyes and turned – then sat bolt upright. Everyone else gaped at him as well, except for Fishlegs who just winced.

Snotlout himself sat there rigidly while everyone stared at him. "…Yeah, okkay, fair pointt…" he murmured, then took a deep breath. "I… sorry… for… fight… you," he said awkwardly in Dragonese.

Dreamer stared at him blankly while his mind processed that, the silence of the table emphasising the casual din from the rest of the hall. He eventually managed a small nod, and a grin. Who would have thought? And why? He shot Fishlegs a glance to tell him he would be explaining later, but the teen just shrugged with a confused frown and a shake of his head.

"Well that'ss just greatt," Tuffnut's grumpy voice broke the silence. "Am I the only one who can't talk to them now?"

"Uhh, no suppraizes here, I can'tt eithrr," Ruffnut grumbled back at him.

"You don't count."

"Yoo can'tt cownt!" They loudly locked helmets but backed down at a warning grunt from Stoick.

"I see you've all been very busy," Stoick rumbled. "Good for you, the more people who can talk to them, the better. Looks like you twins have your work cut out for you."

Dreamer caught sight of Heather approaching in the corner of his eye and watched her attend the table, refilling drinks and taking orders. No sense of familiarity now, at least no more than from meeting her after the battle with the Berserkers. But then she leaned over the table to take the empty jug by Stoick and he caught a whiff of her scent, that memory tickling his mind again. Now he was more attuned to his senses… he remembered it… among foliage and undergrowth…?

She then turned to him and Wanderer. "You want more food?" she asked primly in Dragonese. Wait, is everyone a linguist now? What happened while we were gone!? He stared at her dumbly while Wanderer asked for some water.

This was going to be much trickier now, he realised, they would have to really watch what they said where others could observe. That meant getting more into the dragon mindset in general – or rather, just staying in it at this point. He gave a little shake to clear his head and eyed the remains on the table. Actually, some of those ribs would go down really well right now…

Astrid was leaned over the table with her head laying on her arm, smiling at the pair of Furies somehow collapsed on top of each other as they dozed. Hiccup's head was laying across Toothy's paws, and Toothy's head was stretched over Hiccup's neck. Other than that, it was difficult to tell which leg or wing belonged to which Fury.

The hall echoed with the snores of those too stubborn to go home but not stubborn enough to stay awake. A few of the hardcore feasters were still quietly chatting, munching on the dregs of the food trays and draining the last barrel of mead, but mostly it was very peaceful. At the Chief's table, only she and the Furies remained, though the twins were busy Loki'ing anyone who had fallen asleep. The rest had left.

She really should go home to bed, but she just couldn't take her eyes off the sight in front of her. She wanted to hug them and squeeze them so badly, but even if she were so bold she wouldn't be able to bring herself to disturb them. The most she'd done was try to take the bone Toothy was still chewing on, but he'd growled and refused to let go without even opening an eye.

How could anyone want to hurt these precious little creatures? She could see the mark on Hiccup's leg, healing rapidly but still an angry line that would probably be with him for the rest of his life. Well, that was probably for the best, humans could be very cruel and he would be wise to be reminded of that. Let distrust be his first instinct.

Hiccup shuffled a little, and she melted all over again as one of the wings awkwardly jutting out straightened and wrapped around them both, and contented purring reached her ears. She could just lay here and watch them all night… Oh, she already had, there was a dim glow of sunlight shining in from the front door.

As much as she wanted to just fall asleep there and then she'd rather wake up in her own bed. It did not escape her notice that Toothy's ears twitched the moment she lifted her head. "Hey," she whispered to the pair, "come on guys, you should go to bed too." She gently stroked Hiccup's head until he stirred and looked at her blearily. How to say this…? "You, den," she said in Dragonese. He'd get the message.

He blinked at her slowly, those huge green eyes so reminiscent of Toothless', then nudged his brother to something resembling awake. They both yawned widely and dragged themselves to their paws, then stumbled across the table. She grimaced as Hiccup gave her a small lick on the way past, and lethargically tried to wipe it off as they hopped into the air and disappeared behind her. The stuff stuck to her skin like oil, gross.

She pulled herself to her feet with a sigh and staggered to the door, blinking at the early morning light. Just a couple hours' sleep and she'd be good to go. She was so busy dreaming about her soft, plump pillow that she nearly didn't see the figure sat on the ledge by the steps from the hall. "Snotlout…?"

Snotlout straightened, but continued staring down into the village; a beautiful sight as it glowed in the dawn. "Oh, hey Astrid."

…Strange. He'd been strange a lot lately. Pushing her weariness back, she walked over and sat next to him. He looked like Hel had got bored of waiting and decided to come to him instead. "Not that I'm complaining, but you usually have a bit more to say than 'hey Astrid'."

"…Yeah. I'm a real jerk aren't I." It wasn't a question.

"Why'd you do it, anyway?"

"I dunno. I was stupid. I don't even remember why it bugged me so much when he came instead of Toothy, and I just–"

"No, not that." That was what was on his mind? Usually he barely even thought about things once. "Learn Dragonese. It's not really like you. I'm kind of worried, you've been pretty weird lately."

"…Oh. You want to know why I'm so scared of my dad?"

Not really. Spitelout was merciless, and in some ways she did pity Snotlout for his lot in life, even if he brought the rest of it on himself. "He doesn't hit you does he?"

"Gods, I wish. Some bruises, I put on a tough guy act for a few days, and it's back to normal. But no. When I was twelve, I said some really stupid things to Mum. He didn't get angry with me, didn't shout or anything. No, what does he do? Makes me learn sewing."

Astrid couldn't help but burst out laughing. She had the most ridiculous image in her head of Snotlout fumbling with a needle and threat as Spitelout sternly stood over him.

"Yeah, I laughed too. Like he could make me learn anything, right? But then he learns it himself, and takes it on himself to 'fix' my clothes."

"Wait, was that when you were running around with that third trouser leg? Oh man that was so funny… The twins must have thought it was their birthday."

"Ugh, don't remind me. But yeah, every time I screw something up, he makes me learn something about it. No shortcuts." He took a long, deep breath.

This was… a side of Snotlout that Astrid had never seen before. Not vulnerable, but… raw, bare. He was being straightforward with her, and she wasn't completely repulsed by what she saw. Before she knew what she was doing, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek, dropped down to the ground, and began walking home with a wave but not a so much as a glance back.

Snotlout slowly raised a hand to his cheek as he watched her go.

The village was its usual bustling self, the same as it had been for the last few days. Some people were walking up it, some walking down it, and some were not walking at all. Just like yesterday.

Dreamer idly flicked his tail over the roof he was perched on and watched Wanderer fly low through the streets a few more times to burn off some energy. They'd all but grounded themselves with the aggressive Nightmare still at large, there'd been some sightings but even with Fishlegs, Snotlout and Astrid scouring the island there were just too many places to check. It wouldn't come near the Viking settlement but it might be tempted if they flew high enough, so their flights were tense and brief rather than the relaxing sojourns they were used to. He groaned. If he was this antsy now, winter was going to be a real trial, especially as they were bigger so would have relatively less room to run around.

He now had a much better understanding of Wanderer's obsession with eating and growing, at least. It was a strange feeling for himself, strength was often something he had sorely wished for before becoming a Night Fury but assumed he'd never have, and now he would have more than any Viking could ever dream of. All he had to do was eat and wait.

Maybe Wanderer could teach him to fight… but the idea still twisted his stomach. Tomorrow, he promised himself. It was getting a bit late now, he was starting to get sleepy and Wanderer always woke very early.

"We go to den now?" he asked as Wanderer alighted on the roof next to him, panting and tired but still somehow buzzing. Dreamer could relate.

"Hrrr, yes. Still need much scent-making."

Not quite what I had in mind, but alright…

Dreamer fanned out his wings and hopped off the roof, soaring on the breeze that swept up the village, and drifted back towards their den. Wanderer pulled up next to him with what could only be described as an aerial flourish, a sort of half roll that put them at almost exactly wingtip to wingtip before tidily levelling out. Dreamer shot him a glare, receiving an apologetic grin back.

The den was so well hidden he still had trouble picking it out on the approach even after a few days, and he purred as he drifted over the training ring and it came into sight, but a strange noise caught his attention. Something cutting through the air, but in short motions, and repeatedly?

He had no time to think about it, Wanderer barked in alarm and darted to the side. Dreamer reacted without thinking, recognising the response to danger and banking sharply after his friend – then shrieked as something wove tightly around him and pinned a wing to his side. A bola!

There might have been time to ponder the how or why on the way down, but he was wildly scanning the ground and planning his landing. He couldn't afford to land on his wings, and the lessons Wanderer had drilled in long ago were taking hold. He twisted and used his free wing to angle, bracing himself…

Nothing could have fully prepared him for the inevitable impact with the hard rock. His shoulders hit first and shoved his breath from his lungs, and his momentum carried him into the expected roll. What he hadn't expected was the ropes of the bola painfully digging into the leading edge of his wing, and one of the rounded weights beating against his side. He skidded and bounced to a stop, then sucked in a breath and let out a pained wheeze.

He felt bruised from nose to tail, and his shoulder ached fiercely. He whimpered freely as the pain settled over him, unbearable at first and not in a hurry to abate. At least his shoulder didn't feel dislocated. He heard a few more bolas drop down around him, and there were voices, hushed shouts he couldn't make out. They were accented and unfamiliar.

The reality of it hit him. Someone wanted him out of the air and on the ground… which meant that was the last place he currently wanted to be. He struggled against the ropes, trying to figure out how they were wrapped around him so he could work them loose. Heavy footsteps sounded towards him, and he twisted to see – then felt his blood run cold as he stared into the mad eyes of Dagur the Deranged.

You! Here! How!? Why!? His struggling became frantic and his breaths short and fast. He was all too aware of exactly what Dagur wanted, but the sadistic grin on his face… It pierced him with the horrific reality.

Dagur spared him no courtesies, turning and shouting with gestures up at the sky while he strode over to plant his boot firmly onto Dreamer's shoulder. He was completely trapped. His panic escalated to a new level and his body locked up. There was no sense in struggling. He completely forgot himself, forgot all reasoning, there was just instinct.

He drew in a deep breath, straining his chest against the ropes and the weight on him, and screeched louder than he'd ever screeched before.

"Come onnn, where are you?" Astrid scanned the forests below, hoping to catch sight of the elusive Nightmare that had been hanging around the island. It had been seen around the farms for a while, clearly hungry but not willing to approach the eel wards that had been set up.

The buzzing of Meatlug's wings could just be heard over the breeze as Fishlegs searched to her right, and on the other side of him Hookfang drifted lazily with Snotlout in the saddle. It was an ideal arrangement, if they could hear Meatlug's wingbeats then they could hear a call if someone found it, and with the Gronckle being the slowest flyer she had the least maximum distance to respond.

But then maybe the wingbeats were scaring the Nightmare off? They hadn't seen hide nor scale of it, and the last sighting had been nearly two days ago. Another day of searching and they'd have to conclude it'd left the island, unless and until it was sighted again.

And she had to admit… this was boring. Flying was amazing and all but they'd been doing the same thing for days now and it was just calm gliding, no stunts or aerial manoeuvres, no speed, no thrill. The pleasant calm of the peaceful flight had worn thin very quickly.

She was watching the sun slide towards the horizon when she felt Stormfly tense, her head jerking around with her spines rattling and standing stiff. Astrid didn't have a chance to ask or wonder, immediately recognising the disconnect between dragon and rider and throwing herself down to hold on for all she was worth.

The turn came close to prying her arms loose, and the saddle creaked but mercifully held firm. She cracked her eyes open to peer back over her shoulder, seeing Hookfang flying just as fervently but falling behind, and Meatlug naught but a speck in the distance. She couldn't make out Fishlegs, but Snotlout was still on Hookfang – barely.

Think, rationalise. Can't see Meatlug, but Hookfang is reacting the same way, and flying in the same direction. Not after Stormfly, so reacting to the same thing. What could make a dragon react like this? A queen? She shuddered at the thought. Unlikely, they weren't taken over when we fought the last one. That just leaves… danger. But are we flying towards it, or away from it?

She peered back again and gulped at that she could no longer see Meatlug. Towards, definitely towards… Hookfang was flying in the same direction, and they weren't slowing down. Was I just complaining I was bored? Bored was good, I'd like to go back to being bored.

How long had they been flying like this? Moments. It seemed like they were heading back to the village, and they'd been a fair way out… it would be maybe twice as long again before they arrived. She tried to rub and tap Stormfly's neck, but her dragon ignored her. She had horrible thoughts of Berk under attack, in flames… but the idea didn't sit right. Stormfly loved the village, she was sure, but she couldn't reason what could happen to it for her to act this way.

Unless…

Ice crept down her back as she thought of what Stormfly held closest to her heart and was fiercely protective of, what Astrid herself felt the same towards. No no no, not again! Her will aligned with her dragon's and they reconnected, Astrid urging her on for all the speed she could muster. It might not have been her imagination that the howling of the wind reached a new pitch.

Blind, she leaned into the turns as she felt Stormfly make them, and so was prepared for a sharp bank left and downwards with wings at an angle to brake against the wind. She was squeezed into the saddle by the rapid deceleration, and then they were in a slow but tense glide.

Astrid pried herself from her dragon's neck to drink in the scene below her. Six men stood in the viewing area by the training ring, five of them big and burly and surrounding an agitated Barf and Belch, the sixth noticeably smaller and hunched over a dark shape. Fire boiled in her blood, but she forced it aside to analyse. A shrill and panicked cry got her attention, and she snapped her head up to see the other Fury wheeling desperately above the scene.

How long until Hookfang arrived? Soon enough, but she needed to keep them occupied until then. She leaned to bring Stormfly lower, then had her twist in the air and her Nadder automatically followed through with a barrage of spines at the men around the Zippleback. It was quickly followed by a hissing sound and a whump, the men bracing and protecting themselves against the explosion but distracted enough for Stormfly to land on one with a sickening crunch. A jet of fire erupted at the nearest survivor, but the initial burn was blocked by a shield to give him time to dive away.

The twins' dragon was snared in a bola, and Astrid hurriedly dismounted with axe in hand to sever the ropes, then stood in front of the two dragons. "Who are you? What are you doing here?" she shouted.

"Astriiid, good to see you!" an overly cheerful voice called back. No… "Always so serious, straight to the point. It's been, what, two years? Why don't we have a drink? It'd be great to catch up!"

She fought down the bile that rose in her throat and stared at Dagur, an axe in one hand and a shield in his other. The Fury under him stared at her pleadingly, struggling feebly against the ropes and the boot on his head. Keep him talking… "Sure, why not? What do you get up to these days?"

"You idiot, she's distracting you!" came a woman's hard voice. "Hurry up and get that other demon, and let's get out of here!" Astrid followed the source of the voice and bristled at seeing the traitor Brenna casually leaning against the rock wall by the path back to the village.

"You do NOT order ME AROUND!" Dagur shrieked at the despicable woman, thrusting his axe at her. "But you have a point. You!" He swung his axe to point it at Astrid. "Get that other Night Fury down here, now."

Astrid bared her teeth at him. "In your dreams you lunatic."

Dagur's reply was to grin at her and lower the axe to press the point against Hiccup's head; twenty paces away and she still heard his fearful whimper. Before she could even think of a plan, a dark shape landed next to her and growled at him. "Huh, I guess you really do control them. But you can keep your magic, an axe always worked better for me HAHA! Take the Fury, kill the rest."

Come ON Snotlout, where are you!? A bola whizzed towards Stormfly and Astrid swung her axe at it, slicing through the ropes and sending the weights careening away. A second bola was burned apart, the heat washing over Astrid as the flames passed her, and one of the Zippleback heads intercepted a third with its neck for the ropes to harmlessly wind around.

A stream of fire fell across the Berserkers, three reacting quickly enough but the fourth being bathed in liquid fire and going down in a writhing, screaming heap. Astrid dropped her axe and leapt at the Fury beside her to grab his tail and pull him back, wincing as the rock scraped her arms. Toothy, she now saw, spun and snarled at her, and she saw all his fear and hatred in his eyes. All she could do was fervently shake her head at him.

It bought enough time for Hookfang to spin and unleash another jet of fire. Dagur leapt away, dragging Hiccup with him, but not fast enough to get the Fury out of the way. Astrid didn't have time to worry or lament as he was bathed in flames, the three remaining Berserkers were back on their feet and approaching swiftly.

She jumped to her feet and became a flurry of hand signals, those of the twins coming to her in the heat of the moment. Fire at the middle one, a barrier of gas, spines at the one circling on the left, more gas towards the right one – she closed her eyes and snapped her fingers, bracing herself against the resulting explosion, then used the moment to retrieve and holster her axe.

The smoke cleared quickly revealing that the Berserkers were not yet out of the fight, but their shields were in bad condition. A wave of her hand had another wall of gas set up, and she held Stormfly's spines at the ready. She spared a glance at Dagur, struggling to hold on to a burning Fury as he thrashed and flicked globs of Nightmare fire in all directions. Seeing a chance, she signalled to Stormfly and a trio of spines the size of her forearm sang through the air at him, forcing him to leap back out of the way and away from Hiccup.

Hookfang then landed between the two and Snotlout dismounted, brandishing his axe at Dagur with his dragon hissing dangerously over his shoulder.

Astrid clicked her fingers again and took a few steps forward through the resulting inferno, further forcing Dagur's men back with a swathe of Nadder fire. A glance at Stormfly's spines showed she had about half left, that was good as she'd need to back Snotlout up against that lunatic. If he'd given Stoick trouble, there was no way Snotlout could hold his own even with Hookfang.

But Dagur was clearly second guessing his position, deep in enemy territory with no backup, dwindling forces, and only so long before more Hooligans and dragons turned up. "Fall back!" he screeched, and the four survivors instantly bolted towards the narrow exit from the viewing area. Stormfly automatically fired after the closest, but it was blocked by his shield and didn't even slow him.

"What!? But you can't–!" Brenna started, still standing well out of the way of everything, as they rushed past her. There was little hesitation before she spun and followed them.

Astrid hesitated, torn between following and getting Hiccup free – but then Toothy was already chewing at the straps around his brother; the remains of the bola smouldered on the ground. "Come on!" she shouted at Snotlout and took chase, hopping onto Stormfly and launching into the air.

It was hard to tell how much gas Barf had left, being unfamiliar with the dragon, but Stormfly had one shot left at most and maybe only even half a shot. There also wasn't a guarantee the Berserkers didn't have any more bolas on them, using them all offensively would be stupid as would be assuming they had. She also didn't want to get in front of him, as he could turn back for the Furies, but couldn't split up either or they'd be overrun.

"There's no way we can stop them or take them!" Snotlout shouted as he pulled up next to her, echoing her own thoughts. "We'll just have to follow them from above and wait for backup!"

She nodded and watched the invaders flee into the trees, staying directly above them to keep line of sight while Snotlout and the riderless Zippleback circled, both dragons less suited to flying at low speeds. She lost sight of them a few times over the next couple of minutes, but Hookfang and Barf and Belch made small swoops to put her back on course.

And then, suddenly, they all lost them as they passed through a patch of denser trees. Astrid fumed as she made wide circles overhead, but could find no trace of them. It was at this point that Fishlegs joined them, thoroughly confused, but she didn't let him ask questions. "Berserkers on the island! Attacked the Furies! Saw them go into that thicket but not sure if they've left it! Stay here and watch it, follow if you see them but stay back!" She had to set Stormfly down, the poor dragon was stumbling in the air and breathing heavily. Unlike Hookfang she couldn't just coast on her wings as much.

"Okay!" Fishlegs squeaked back and peered down at the trees below.

Astrid waved to Snotlout and they glided back, catching sight of a group on their way to the ring. Stoick's form was unmistakable, he was exactly who she needed to see right now. "Chief!" she called as she pulled Stormfly closer.

"Astrid! What in Thor's name–"

"Berserkers on the island! Dagur is here!" She landed heavily in front of him. "We followed him into the forest but he lost us, Fishlegs is maintaining position where we last saw them. Here, take Stormfly, she can track him for you." She dismounted and took a few steps back. "You follow?" she asked.

"Yes!" she said fiercely. "He hurt Nightstrikers, I–"

Astrid wasn't sure what her dragon said after that, but it looked and sounded violent. She put a hand to her snout before sending Barf and Belch back to get the twins, then turned to Snotlout while the party set off. "I'm going to go back and check on the Furies."

Hookfang snarled and flared his wings. "I hunt," he hissed dangerously.

"Oh no you don't," Snotlout shot back, grabbing one of his horns and pulling his head to the side. "We're making sure he doesn't loop back around. Come on Astrid!" He beckoned her onto the saddle while his dragon continued to hiss.

They arrived back in the arena to find Heather tending to Hiccup. Well, trying to, Toothy was standing in front of him protectively and growling at her.

"Heather?" Astrid asked as she dropped from the saddle, followed by Snotlout.

Hookfang promptly launched himself back into the air back towards the forest. "OI! Get back here you overgrown lizard!" Snotlout shouted after him, but he was long gone.

"Astrid! These bindings have wire running through them, there's no way Toothy can get them off but he won't let me near!"

"Alright, he trusts me, I'll get it," she said and strode forward, Snotlout grumbling as he followed. But then her stomach dropped as a scuff sounded behind her and Heather's expression turned to horror.

(( ZK-zWTDzebE ))

"Emperor's New Clothes"