"I remember, vaguely, that last night in Holl." Fena sighed softly. "I remember wrestling in the mud and my father coming home. I remember the thunderous sound of the earth shaking and Eret leaving me with that old woman. I never saw them again after that. The market was raided the following winter. Everything was burnt to the ground."

Astrid had moved closer beside her and placed a gentle hand on top of Fena's. She gave her hand a small squeeze when she caught her eye. Soft smiles gracing both their features.

"I followed the trees and racing rivers, from one village to the next. I only found some peace when Chief Ivarr found me half dead in the snow. I spent many years with him and his family in Dead-hand. Their daughter passed the winter before they found me, and his wife Yrsa proclaimed that she would not let me be the next to fall to the harsh winters cold. I spent somewhere between six or seven winters with them, before a man by the name of Krogan came for their dragons."

The group shared a look of disquieted curiosity.

"They wouldn't sell or even negotiate handing them over. The village was turned to ash. I am the last to remember the tribe of the Pale Claw in the land of Dead-hand."

"We've come across a small few who don't use dragons for sport," Fishlegs took out one of his journals, "And even fewer who ride them. But it's always fascinating to learn of other tribes that integrated dragons. What were the dragons to Chief Ivarr and his kin?"

"Beasts of burden mostly," she shrugged. "They didn't ride them except during festivals, to see who could last the longest before getting thrown off. Erp held the record for a few years, until Haldor surpassed him at their last celebration. Otherwise they were used to protect fields and livestock. The wolves and bears didn't stand a chance. And some were used for the hunts. They weren't overly feral, but they weren't as tame as yours are."

Fishlegs was marking down everything he could. Snotlout made some boast of some record he and Hookfang had, but Eret was tuned out. Chin still resting on folded hands as he stared off into the distance.

He too was remembering that last night he saw her. He kept asking his father when they would go back for her, eventually his father stopped answering him. Having to drag him off the ship a few times when he sneaked on board, thinking he could force them to bring her home. It was five or so years later, when the elders finally calmed down enough, that his father went back for her. His father also held the title of Jarl then and he was certain he could hold sway when she returned if any still felt unease.

He remembered spotting his fathers boat coming around the bend. Racing to the docks while his mother took her time, swaddling his brother Halvdan before joining them. He had pushed through the crowd, despite his mothers protests, and waited as the men docked the boat. His father knelt before him and grasping the back of his head, he held him close. He took the shield he had crafted for her, hoping she would train with him upon her return, and placed it on the pyre, the funeral held for those who lost family that lived in the trade town. He hated the elders but took his frustration for them out on the dragons, learning to trap and trade and kill instead.

"Well," Hiccup gently clapped Fena on the back, "You're more than welcome here. I'm sure you'd fit right in. In fact, I think Gothi could use an apprentice healer if you're interested. We are still clearing out the ice and debris left by Drago's assault, but a home could be built for you once that's dealt with, if you wanted. For now, you're more than welcome to take shelter here in the mead hall."

"Thank you. I am beyond grateful for your hospitality, but I think I've got a place in mind for tonight at least." She stood to take her leave. Not to sure how to truly answer him. She wasn't sure if she wanted to accept the offer or not. They seemed like such a warm and inviting, tight-knit group of peoples. She didn't want to be responsible for bringing them to fire and ash as well.

"The doors are always open, should you change your mind."

Astrid grabbed her arm before she could walk away.

"Think about it at least." She urged. Fena could only nod. Grabbing a torch she set it alight before heading out of the hall.

Eret's eyes watched her leave, only flinching when Hiccup lightly booted him under the table. A sly smile on his lips as he nodded after Fena, encouraging Eret to follow after her. He turned to see her disappear through the doors and looked back at Hiccup, who gave him a quick wink before turning his attention to Astrid. Eret secured the satchel strap as he stood from the bench and swiftly followed after her.

The groups banter faded out as he exited the halls. Straining his eyes in the dim light he spotted the steady flicker of a torch just passing out of view, heading for the tree-line. Skullcrusher sniffed and nosed at his side, curious of the familiar scent the satchel gave off. Eret patted the great beast before heading off after Fena. He assumed that was her that passed into the woods, as the patrol took more to the skies than the ground.

She was moving at a steady pace along the path, but he was having more difficulties. Keeping his eyes on the torch rather than on the path beneath his feet. With no moon in the sky tonight he could hardly see an inch in-front of him. He was focused on the task at hand, and so focused he was he didn't think to grab a light of his own. With much stumbling and tripping and muttered curses he was right behind her. She paused upon his approach to turn and face him. She eyed him in the light as he stood there trying to form the words. Any words. She gave him a curt nod and turned on her heal again, moving forward along the path. Still speechless he shook himself and followed after her, this time a few long strides was all it took and he was walking along-side her. They were approaching Ravens Peak when he finally thought of what he wanted to say.

"You're so quiet now." She cut his thoughts short. "I'll admit you caught me off guard earlier today, you seemed to have more to say than usual. It was a nice change of subject. Brought back forgotten memories."

She stopped at the torn and twisted tree. New growth of fungus and moss were covering the bark. She ran her free hand over the rough bark.

"Do you derive pleasure from my agony drengr? To have me follow you to the dark corners of my mind? To take from me any I would call friend all because they are not you? How many of your trials must I endure before you're satisfied?"

"What are you going on about?"

"All these years you were always there. Seemingly a friend when all others left. Trying as you might to offer comfort in place of loss."

"All these years I thought you dead."

"I should have been." She hissed over her shoulder. "You stopped my blade that night and sent Harek to claim me instead, why?"

"I have not done or said anything to you, aside from save you from that madman."

"You've said that before. I have asked you, begged you to leave me be yet you still come to torment me!"

"Fena!" Having enough of the one-sided conversation he turned her to fully face him. "Whomever you have seen. Whomever you have talked to. Whomever has used my name. I am not that man."

Her shoulders sagged and her stare softened slightly to a tired ache.

"We will see."

She watched his hands retreat as he released his hold on her. Releasing a heavy breath she cautiously brushed her fingers along his cheek. They caught the few stray hairs that fell along side his face, twisting them slightly before her hand fell to trace the lines on his chin. Stepping back she gave him one last woeful look before continuing on her path.

He had heard what she had said to the others in the mead hall. But there was something harboured, in the way she spoke with him now, that she wasn't telling the others. Not that he fully understood what was going on either. Despite it all he couldn't leave her to wander alone. The path was more well worn from this point forward, so he followed her more casually as he called out.

"Where are you headed anyway?"

"To the waters past the fields, further ahead."

The night was calm and relatively peaceful. The night critters were far and few with their night songs, footfalls on the forest floor and tall grasses their only competition. And the odd sound here and there of wood being split or broken or hacked. The field was coming into to view when Fena turned to see what the added commotion was about.

"What are you doing?"

Eret was a few feet behind her and closing in. She noticed his arms cradled twigs, dead wood and small branches.

"A fire would be better than that torch, don't you think?"

She blinked once. Twice. Scrunching her brows. A slow nod was her only response. He motioned for her to continue. Today was full of firsts it would seem. There were a few things he said that she'd heard before. But the poetry was different, and the few remarks regarding the past at the mead hall. And now he was making the fire, or offering to at least. Was Odin still testing her, this time with a spy in his place? Nothing he did ever made sense, but if he was staying with her now, then something was coming. He'd never give up what it was. She's interrogated him on his motives for years. She figured out eventually that the best way to get anything out of him was to go along with the charade, continue where they left off.

The fire was made small, casting off a hair more light than the torch, with some kindling to keep it going for another hour or two, but it would do for the night. The night was warm enough that a larger fire wasn't necessary.

"Perhaps you could - I mean, we-I found this on Harek's ship, the other night. Is it yours by chance?" He held out the satchel to her, stopping her task of fiddling with the aprons ties. She took it from him and knelt before the light to check its contents.

"That bastard! I had at least 20 coin in here. And a comb. And some strips of cloth and my honey poultice is gone. So is my knife. Bacraut!" She took out the one of the oil jars, examining it for any damage.

"Do you mean this knife?" The fires glow intensified her icy glare as he held the blade out to her. "I swear it's the only thing I took out of the satchel. Gobber fixed it up a bit, sharpened it and cut a small curve in the blade where the chip was. I also replaced the leather bindings on it."

True enough the blade was sharper and the top third of it had a subtle curve to it. The leather straps on both ends of the handle were no longer soft and worn, but crisp and hard to the touch. Her fingers brushed the etching in the wood. He watched her movements curiously.

"My mother didn't approve the idea." She glanced back at him. "She thought you would be too young for a true blade, even as small as that. I thought it was practical at the time. That you could use it eventually."

How right he had been. Her mind flashed with all the times that crude knife saved her life. She believed that the blade was all he took, Harek must have scavenged all he thought useful when he brought her to the ship.

"Tha-thank you." His face softened.

"You're welcome."

She admired the blade another moment before lifting the hem of her apron and cut a large strip off the bottom. She cut one more before standing removing the apron entirely. Eret scrunched his face as she reached for the hem of the dress and began lifting it.

"Whoa wait, what are you doing?"

"Bathing." The hem stopped at mid thigh, she gave him a quizzical look. As if it wasn't obvious. "You can feel free to join me. You reek more than your dragon back there."

He was about to protest as he looked back. As if sensing they were looking at him, Skullcrusher raised his head in their direction. His eyes reflecting the light were the only sign he was there.

The sound of movement in the water pricked his ears. He caught her go under and debated with himself. He hated to admit she was right and he could do with a washing himself. Her back was too him and the waters reached just under her shoulders from what the dim light would allow him to see. His mind was made when he saw her try to clean the wound on her shoulder. She was missing completely. He was only going to rinse and help her, he told himself as he too stripped and broke the waters surface.

He dove under a few times, until he felt satisfied with his state of cleanliness. He approached her from behind.

"You're missing it entirely." She didn't flinch as he reached around her.

She placed the wet cloth in his waiting hand. She pulled her hair forward and fought to get the remaining knotted clumps of dried blood out. She had missed the spot. The bolt had entered beside the shoulder blade and she tensed as she felt him gently press. That was new. Not the offer to help nor this situation. What threw her off was the touch. He'd been so real before, all the years she'd cupped his face, or took his hand as she lead them through the trees. Never had she felt him return the physical touch. He'd reach out to comfort her, but there was never any warmth or weight to it. She felt the pressure as he wiped the cloth over the bruised skin. She tried to turn and look at him, her heart beat faster when his free hand gripped the top of her head and forced her to look forward again. She went back to working on her hair in a slight daze. Once he was sure he got the area cleaned he worked on the few strands of hair that she missed.

"There." Eret rung out the cloth as he stood. "That should do." She listened to him retreat back to shore.

Her mind was foggy and her head felt light. Slowly she followed his lead and stepped back onto the dry grassy shore. Eret finished dressing and pulled his tunic back on as he watched Fena flinch as she slipped the dress over her head. That would not heal easily. He added the last of the kindling to fire as she sat near him. Reaching into the bag she pulled out the oil jar, the one scented with cedar and mint. He studied her as she worked the few drops through her hair and onto her elbows and hands. She caught his eyes and gave him an impish smile, motioning him to turn around. She pouted slightly when he quirked a brow but conceded. She sat behind him with a big grin as she took the leather strap from his hair. She worked the oil through his damp locks, taking a small section and weaving a small braid before gathering the rest back into the band.

"Alright, your turn." She was too tired to protest, with a playful eye roll she did as she was asked. He'd woven nets and fashioned rope. But Eret had never plaited hair before. It couldn't be too hard though, right? Wrong. It was not as easy as it looked. But someone could fix it in the morning.

"This reminds me of my first Yule with Chief Ivarr's tribe. Erp loved to braid hair. And he had me sit in-front of him as he fashioned my hair for the celebration. He used all sorts of pins and clasps and beads, and yet my head never felt heavy from all the decorations he used."

"Who was he? This Erp fellow." Eret looked at his handiwork and cringed. Again someone could fix it in the morning. He didn't really know what drove him to do it in the first place. He came to sit before her as he awaited her answer.

"Ivarr and Yrsa's eldest son. Bolla came after Erp, but she died before I showed up at their door. Asbjorn came next. And Haldor was their last. They were the family I remember most." Her smile faded and the air almost felt heavy. "And now they're gone."

"But you are not alone."

"For now. But how long until you leave me again?"

He was getting rather tired of these conversations.

"Fena." He took her hand and looked her in the eye. "I am here. Listen to me. To my voice. To the breath I take. To the beat of my heart."

She shook her head at the routine but stopped when he placed her hand on his chest and held it there. Her heart stopped as she felt his beat against her fingers. She lunged from her spot and pressed her ear to his chest. There it was. The steady, if a little quick, thrum of a heartbeat. She heard the breaths he took and the slight rumble of the soft chuckle. She sat back and tried hard to process the being sitting in-front of her.

"I don't-" She tried to catch her breath. "I don't understand."

"Must I bleed for you!" His temper flared slightly as he took the knife from beside the discarded apron. Fena gasped, covering her mouth as a stray tear dropped, freezing in place when Eret hissed as he drew the blade across his palm. That was a stupid move he thought too late.

Fena's breath caught in her throat as she watched the blood slowly drip from his hand. She didn't move as he went to the waters edge and cleaned off the cut. Taking the spare cloth she'd cut earlier, he wrapped his hand as best he could. Long slender finger shakily reached out to him. He sat as still as he could and she deftly ran her fingers over bandage, white cloth turning red as it soaked up the blood. He could feel a headache coming on just thinking of what Gothi would do when she heard of this. Her hands travelled lightly over his face again before she rested one over his heart and the other at the side of his neck. Feeling the small muscles tense and twitch, every breath he took and each beat of his heart.

"Eret?" She breathed. Her voice was hoarse and weak as she looked at him with teary eyes. She called to him again. Taking his non-injured hand he found the base of her neck and just as he did early that day, he brought their foreheads together.

"I am here. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere." The tears fell swiftly and freely as she held onto him with a vice-like grip. He hushed her gently and comforted her as best he could. Staying in each-others hold as their energy exhausted and they drifted into the night.

Skullcrusher perked up when he smelled the iron of blood. He watched them by the water, sighing when he determined there was no threat. Probably an accident or something. A clacking in the trees put him on edge. There on a branch was a large black bird clicking it's beak and watching the humans. The dragon did not like the eerie aura it gave off, especially when it turned to look at him. He gave the bird a low warning hiss, to back off and leave. The bird cocked its head at the beast, mimicking the hiss before taking off. Skullcrusher watched it fly off into the sky and disappear into the darkness. His rider and the female were calm from what he could tell, possibly sleeping already. He moved closer to them, settling a few feet behind his rider. He checked once more that the threat was gone, scanning the grass and sky and trees. He wasn't fully satisfied but he found nothing else to cause alarm. And so he settled back down, letting the dying embers lull him back to sleep.

Bacraut = asshole