When Farran woke once more, he found himself in pain. Confused. Everything was a blur for a few seconds until the memories quickly rushed back and he remembered how he had ended up in this situation. Ryker betraying Viggo, stabbing him and eventually the sudden appearance of the dragon riders. It had all happened so fast that he didn't know where to begin. The hunter army had turned on itself and whatever fraction of it that had survived were most likely under Rykers rule. Their intentions, unknown for the moment. Farran shook his head dissipating the growing anger, realizing the situation he was in. Right now he had to focus on his own situation.

Perhaps the most important thing the hunter could do was find out where he was. Considering the last thing he remembered was bleeding out before those demon lovers, he had likely been taken captive, for the second time now embarrassingly enough. However the room he found himself in did not seem to resemble the architecture of Dragon Edge. It was simpler than that. Like a village hut. So if not there, where else could they have taken him? The Defenders of the wing tribe maybe, but he doubted they would aid him given their foolish devotion to dragon kind and his role to hunt the beasts so that was probably not the case. His only other go to was Heather and her Brother who hailed from the Berserker tribe. He hoped that wasn't where he was either given his short yet eventful history with the raven haired rider.

The hunter managed to slowly lift himself up off of the bed he had been moved to while he slept, feeling the still fresh wound of Rykers blade with any twist and turn. What armour he had was now gone leaving him in a simple villager shirt and pants, as well as some tightly wrapped bandages covering his stomach. It felt constricting. It also made him wonder why Heather had saved him. It was clear that she had given she hadn't finished him off. Last time she had been full of anger and hatred, intending to kill him, so what had changed? Did they need information? Or maybe she wanted him to heal so they could have a proper fight. There was little honor in slaying an enemy that couldn't fight back. Whatever the intention it didn't matter. He was still their enemy and they, his. Farran found some shoes next to the bed and slowly headed for the door. His legs wobbled slightly with each step. He hated this, feeling as vulnerable as he did right now. If someone wanted to they could have easily overpowered and killed him. He needed to be careful until he had recovered his strength. Hopefully no one would try anything against him just yet.

Once Farran had finally reached the door he slowly and cautiously pushed it open and looked through the slight gap. He couldn't see anyone guarding the entrance, only the outside world and fresh air that felt much better to breathe in compared to the old wooden scent of the hut. Satisfied, the hunter opened it up and took in his surroundings. The large rocky, almost mountain-like formations that covered large portions of the distant terrain told him all he needed to know about where he was. He remembered seeing paintings of this place as well as its name. It was Berserker island.

The hunter scowled. He had been injured, barely capable of walking and here he was in the middle of one of his worst enemy's homeland. Perhaps his most dangerous one too. Whatever the reason he had been spared no longer mattered. He was a prisoner once more. Escape this time would be so much harder.

A cough erupted from his throat and he stumbled. Even in this state he remained as determined as he could to put one step in front of the other and stray further from the hut. The land surrounding it was surprisingly secluded. Not another living being, viking or dragon to be seen. The main village looked to be maybe a mile away given the clear view. But why place him all the way up here? Did Heather expect her people to panic upon sight of a hunter, however gravely injured they were? And why no guards?

His question was soon answered by a loud roar from above where he spotted a cliff wall. And standing over the edge at the very top, an all too familiar metal dragon. Farran paused and waited, curious to see what the beast would do next. For the next minute it just watched his every move. Not that the hunter could make any now that he knew he was under surveillance. Eventually a figure could be seen climbing onto the monsters back. It was hard to see the figure but Farran knew all too well who it was. Who else could it have been? The metal creature then spread its wings and glided down to his position. It was a short distance, eighty meters away but for whatever reason the dragon refused to land upon reaching five meters from the ground leaving Heather to jump off and land without any trouble. The second its rider had been dropped off the dragon did not hesitate to fly back up to the top of the cliff at a fast speed. Once it had perched itself back on the edge it continued to watch Farran once more. Despite being slightly puzzled by the dragons unusual behavior he had bigger, more important questions that needed answering. And the only person who could provide them was now walking up to him.

Farran stood his ground. He watched silently as Heather approached. Her expression was rather stoic. He half expected her to reveal her signature weapon and charge at him. But upon closer inspection, she didn't have it with her. He in response glared at her, remaining on guard as best he could. After what felt like an eternity she reached him. She then spoke.

"I see you decided not to get some much needed bed rest." She looked him up and down and sighed. "I should have expected as much given your stubbornness."

"Why am I here?" Farran skipped the small talk, not in the mood for it.

The rider didn't flinch. She merely put a single hand on her hip and responded in a way that made it feel like the answer was obvious. "Well given the last time you were at Dragons Edge you escaped, and Hiccup decided having you and Viggo together in the Defenders of the wing's village was too risky, here was the only other option. You're welcome by the way."

So Viggo was still alive. Even with everything that had happened there was a scrap of good news at least.

"I told you... I asked for you to kill me." Farran growled.

"Yes. Yes you did." The rider bluntly replied.

"And you instead you saved me."

"Yes. That's right."

"Why?"

Heathers expression softened a little. "Even after everything we've been through you really thought that's how I wanted it to end? With you dying in front of me?"

"Yes." The answer came a little too quickly for Heathers liking. "You have nothing to gain from keeping me alive. I have no information to share even if I knew of any."

"Maybe not. But I have plenty to lose letting you die."

Farran's face shifted to confusion before another coughing fit overcame him. When he spotted the rider take a single step forward, presumably to help he extended his arm out telling her that he was fine.

"Like what?" He eventually wheezed.

"My honor for a start." Heather paused. "And in case you forgot, like you I'm a warrior. If I wanted you dead I would prefer to take your life in combat."

"I challenged you in combat!" The hunter hissed. "You did not rise to meet that challenge."

"Fighting you when you could barely stand? I didn't want that. I don't think you did either. You just thought it was your only option."

Farran scoffed. For a moment he looked away from Heather and scanned the sea behind him, staring at the spot where sky met ocean. Almost right away it had a calming effect on him. Heather said nothing and allowed him to speak when he was ready. Almost a minute of absolute silence took place before the hunter managed to speak again.

"So." He spoke calmly and slowly. "What happens now? What is your next move, rider?"

"I... I don't know." She admitted.

"Hmm. Well you'll have to think of something, because right now I can't make any moves of my own. Not in this condition at least."

"Let's wait for you to heal first. Then we can decide what you deserve."

"Why wait weeks when I already know my own judgement? Either death, or imprisonment is my future now."

Farrans voice had gone quiet as he thought about spending the rest of his life behind bars. It was an uncomfortable feeling, even more so than death itself. Just sitting there in a small confined space, having nothing, doing nothing for years and years on end. No warrior should go out that way.

"You remember my brother Dagur, don't you?"

Farran looked back and hesitantly nodded.

"When we were working with the hunters. When I was... finding out what information I could on them, I had to spend nearly every waking second with him."

The hunter said nothing, but looked rather annoyed of being reminded of what having a sibling was like. He missed that feeling.

"I hated every second of it."

Farran blinked. He had not expected that to follow up. The sudden coldness that the rider carried in her voice had caught him off guard.

"Did I ever tell you that he was the one responsible for the death of my parents?"

The hunter had not expected that at all. His face showed it. "I am... sorry for your loss." He admitted show a rare sign of respect to her. Something he had not done since discovering her true allegiance.

"Thank you. They weren't my birth parents, but... they were family. And I loved them very much. You couldn't even imagine how much it hurt, treating the man who killed them like I cared for him. It was a nightmare."

Heather was right. He could not imagine it. Had he been in her position he would never have held out for as long as she had. Months of undercover work alongside the one being you hated the most. It was enough to get the best of anyone.

"What did you do about it? After Viggo found you out?"

Heather laughed. "Nothing really. After you and I fought I was certain it was the end for me. Until..."

"Until what?"

"Until Dagur saved me."

"He saved you?" Farran asked in disbelief.

"Yes. I couldn't believe it myself. And even I eventually saw him again I still didn't trust him. Even when Hiccup told me that he was no longer the man he used to be. He... changed for me. Became better. It was only when I thought he had died that I came to terms with it. Mostly." She let that sink in, more for her own sake than Farrans before continuing. "The point is, it's never too late to change your ways. Leave behind your hate and anger and become better. Like my... ...like Dagur did for me."

"Ah, I see." Farrans voice rumbled and he took a few steps towards Heather, talking as he did "So you're asking me to bend the knee. Look past your betrayal and accept surrender?

"I..." Heather started but was cut off right away. The hunter seemed to be getting angrier the more he continued to speak.

"Allow me to make this clear. I am a hunter. A proud trapper of dragons and the captain of a ship capable of killing even the toughest of dragons! Do you know what I am not? What I am not is your friend, your ally, nor your hunter spying associate, understood? You know little of my personal life and I would have it kept that way."

Heather stared back at the Hunter. She felt a little intimidated under his gaze. This was not the response she had been expecting. "I'm only trying to help." She reasoned.

"If you want to help, then either kill me or release me. But do not waste my time with petty talk."

The second he had finished he headed back to the hut without even waiting for Heather to respond back. He wasn't going anywhere right now and he knew it. It was only when he had closed the doors, sealing himself inside did she sigh and headed back to the village. She needed the walk. There was a lot of thinking she needed to do right now.