Chapter 2

As Varian made his way back to his tent, the sound of a soft voice entered his ear. It was definitely feminine, which he was certainly not used to. He followed it listening to the words.

"The sky is dark and the hills are whiteAs the storm king speeds from the north to night,And this is the song the storm king sings,As over the world his cloak he flings:'Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep!'He rustles his wings and gruffly sings:'Sleep, little one, sleep!' "

Varian didn't mean to intrude, but singing was nice and gentle. Not at all the shanties or loud songs the men would sing at times. It wasn't that he didn't like those songs entirely, he was just bored of the lack of variation. This song sounded beautiful, especially from Heather.

The young woman sat on a rock, sharpening her double axe with a rock. There was a scraping sound of flint against steel, but Varian didn't cringe. He was used to the sound. It was almost like an annoying lullaby that would lull him to sleep at times, but Heather's song was a lot more pleasing to hear.

"On yonder mountain-side a vineSlings at the foot of a mother pine;The tree bends over the trembling thingAnd only the vine can hear her sing:'Sleep, sleep, little one, sleepWhat shall you fear when I am here?Sleep, little one, sleep.'The king may sing in his bitter flight,The pine may croon to the vine to-night,But the little snowflake at my breastLiketh the song I sing the best:'Sleep, sleep, little one, sleep;Weary thou art, a-next my heart;Sleep, little one, sleep.' "

Heather stopped singing as she reached the end of the song, but continued to hum. Varian took a step back and stumbled on a rock. Heather spun around, her weapon at ready. When she realized it was only a flushing boy, she stopped. "Oh, it's just you…" she lowered her weapon.

"Sorry, didn't mean to startle you, but that song sounded so pretty. I didn't mean to intrude…"

She shook her head. "If I was angry that someone would listen, I wouldn't sing it."

"That's another thing that makes you different from the men," Varian snorted. He sat on a rock a few feet across from Heather's. She smirked.

"So, what's it like being the son of a chief?"

Varian shrugged. "I don't know anything else to compare it to."

"I get what you mean. You know, I was raised by normal Vikings, but my blood father was actually the Chief of Berserker Island. Dagger knew him, so I only have his word to know what he was like. You and I, we're not so different."

"Mmm…" Varian nodded. After a moment's silence he looked at her weapon. "Cool axe, by the way."

"Thanks. Made it myself. Here." she put it in his hands.

"Wow, it's nice to hold and it's not ridiculously heavy. It's flexible, but firm."

She grinned as she took it back. "Yeah, it took a few times to get her just right…"

"Tell me. Do you get along with my uncle?" Varian asked suddenly.

"Does anyone?" Heather raised a brow. "Oh, geez! He gets on my nerves so much!"

Varian giggled, losing his dignified posture. "I know! I don't get along with him either, but he's my uncle, so, you know. I'm stuck with him…"

Heather's face suddenly grew solemn. "Varian… how do I ask this?"

"Ask what?" Varian tilted his head.

"How does… how does Ryker treat you?"

"Oh. Like a bag of dirt. Is that what you mean?"

"No… I mean yes, but…" she sighed shaking her head. She became silent as she thought through her words carefully. Varian gave her a puzzled look. Finally she shrugged. "Never mind. I don't know what I mean."

Varian opened his mouth to speak, but he heard a shuffling. The two looked towards the sound and saw Ryker. The teen frowned at his uncle as the man cleared his throat. Sighing, Varian rolled his eyes and looked at Heather. "Uh, I guess I gotta go. See ya."

"See ya." Heather nodded. She kept her face towards her axe, but couldn't help but glance their way. Nothing happened, but she didn't trust Ryker. She didn't trust Viggo either; but if she was worried about physical abuse, then Ryker was the one to keep an eye on.

She shook her head. She was only guessing. There were no signs of actual mistreatment apart from Ryker and Varian's mutual dislike of each other. Though how could someone as cold and twisted as Viggo be the loving parent Varian needed? Was there, perhaps, a soft side to the chief after all? Maybe he was kind and merciful to Varian, but the way he handled the guard… No, she couldn't see it in him yet. She'd have to watch closely.

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Ryker placed a hand on Varian's shoulder, directing the boy to his tent. They were only a few yards away from Varian's tent when he did so. The teen shook it off, turning to glare at the man. "I can make it back to my own tent on my own!"

"Well not on time, apparently!" Ryker growled.

Varian huffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever. I'm not some child! I can handle myself!" He stormed off towards his tent, but was stopped by Ryker grabbing his arm.

The man's eyes narrowed. "You're lucky you're my brother's son! Otherwise you'd be screaming right now!" he threatened.

Varian broke free from the man's grip. "You think I care what you think? Get real." Varian disappeared behind the flap to his tent. All his lanterns had been turned off when he left to meet with his father. The only light he had to see by in his tent were his chemicals he had in the basket and strung around the top of the tent. Sighing, Varian plopped down on his bed after he took off his belt with his weapons.

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Morning came and Varian woke up in a decent mood. He got dressed, but he didn't even try to tame his hair. No one seemed to mind his hair anyways. His tribe was never really about the looks anyways. Apart from who has the biggest muscles, which, needless to say, Varian did not have. It was only an hour later when he was in his father's tent. His uncle, Heather and a man named Dagger were present at the meeting.

"No, those Dragon Riders are really taking a toll on what we're bringing in," Heather spat out Dragon Hunter as if they were nothing but annoying, flying pests. In their case, they actually were.

"Well, the money needs to come from somewhere. It's hard to feed all these Vikings with the less endless coming in to supply us," Dagger pointed out. Heather blinked at him as if surprised by what he said.

"You pay attention to the money income?" Ryker asked with full doubt.

"Tch! Yeah." Dagger gave a face that said it was obvious. "I was raised by a Viking Chief and have been ruling over my men. I've gotta keep up with the money. So, my question remains, Ryker, how are we going to bring that in?"

"Just between me and us, don't you think the Vikings could do a little less feeding?" Varian piped in, mainly looking at Ryker as he said it.

Heather stared at him in surprise. She didn't even try to cover her expression. Dagger merely raised a brow and gave Varian a weird look. Viggo remained the same, but Ryker looked infuriated and offended. "Why you little-" Ryker's hand raised to slap him. Varian braced himself for the blow, but it never came. Viggo grabbed his brother's arms.

"Now, now, brother. Mustn't get too ahead of yourself. My son here makes an excellent point, and he is absolutely right," Viggo said coolly as Ryker lowered his hand.

Heather let out her breath quietly, which she hadn't realized she had been holding. She would be lying to say that she was not surprised that Viggo just saved Varian. Though, she supposed Viggo wouldn't mind if Varian sassed his older brother. It just seemed that there was a conflict between the two brothers, which was of no surprise. This meant she didn't need to worry too much about Varian's well being then.

The teen had a bright smirk on his face as he looked at his uncle again, his father's back turned. Obviously, he was rubbing his victory in Ryker's face. The latter groaned and rolled his eyes, in obvious disgust.

"So we cut their rations. Maybe it will even motivate them to work harder for those dragons." Viggo said coolly as he rounded his desk. "Varian's solution has solved that problem." He glanced at his son with an approving expression. Varian beamed, but Ryker frowned and muttered under his breath.

"Was this all that we needed to discuss?" Ryker asked.

"Hmm, I suppose. I had thought it would take longer to formulate an option, but my son came with something quite rational."

"Did he just say a pon?" Dagger leaned in and whispered to Heather. She rolled her eyes.