Of all the strange things Heather had seen and heard spoken of, this had to be one of the strangest, if only because it was actually happening to her.

Trapped in a dark cave, unable to see anything, with two Night Furies… and she was more bored than anything. She didn't know what time it was, but hopefully it was almost time for Einfari and her little sister to get up, because just sitting here in the dark, however comfortable, was getting old fast.

That's not to say she didn't have anything to think about. Quite the opposite. She was surrounded by dragons, literally leaning against one, and she was safer than she had ever been, at least from the Berserkers. Her hosts, on the other hand, might not be so safe.

But even then, they weren't mindless beasts. They were dangerous because they thought she might be dangerous. If she died here, it would be because she did something wrong, not because they wanted a snack.

For the moment, she had a place to stay, albeit one risky in different ways. A place so safe from outside danger it would take an armada to truly threaten it, and even then the dragons could just fly away and take her with them.

Flying…

Maour had flown with Toothless as they had no boats. There were a few other riders and it was probably safe to assume they also flew their dragons. If she and Einfari were going to keep up the appearance of a normal bonded pair, that probably meant flying was on the table.

She wasn't sure how to feel about that. It was undeniably practical, and necessary besides, but to leave the ground behind and totally trust someone else to keep her alive? She wasn't used to not having any say in something so important. Even now, with all of this, she had a say, if only because Einfari had accidentally given her leverage by assaulting her mentally and then realizing that was wrong.

Heather was startled from her lingering thoughts by a shift behind her. Small paws began kneading at her back, pushing out-

She jolted forward, escaping the small pricks of sharp claws before they tore her back to shreds. That had been close.

'Joy, careful,' Einfari murmured sleepily, stirring in turn, woken by her sister's movement. 'I have scales. Heather doesn't.'

A sad whine emanated from the darkness behind Heather.

'You're fine, right?' Heather felt a nudge on her arm.

"Yes, I'm fine." For some reason, this whole situation felt awkward. "Can we get out into the open? I can't see anything in here."

'Of course, sorry.' There was a distinct rustle, as if something big had moved, which it had. 'Come on. Heather, you should probably put a paw on me again.'

Right. She still didn't feel confident with seeing through Einfari's eyes. Heather did as told, and the three of them made their way through the dark caverns.

Eventually, they emerged out into the moonlight and the cold wind. It was a relief, to be able to see again.

'Seeing in the dark should begin to kick in soon,' Einfari warbled. 'Then you will be able to move around in there on your own.'

"That would be nice," Heather agreed absently. "Where did..?" She had forgotten the younger dragon's name.

'Nótthljóður?' Einfari shrugged. 'My mother is taking care of her. I guess you couldn't hear her… or see her.'

That was a little disconcerting. "So I totally missed a whole dragon on the way through?"

'Three, actually. My Father was there, and so was my brother.' Einfari warbled curiously. 'Does that bother you?'

"When some of them probably want me dead?" She would be honest. "A little.'

'Heather…' Einfari came closer, looking into her eyes. 'It sounds like there is more to this than that.'

"I have no control," she admitted. "After years of being totally responsible for staying alive and free, that feels wrong. I can't defend myself, leave, or even hear other people talk, and I might need to."

'And you can't trust us to keep you safe…' Einfari whined quietly. 'But you have to, because that's the only way this can work. You have to trust us somewhat. We are doing the same with you.'

"Are you?"

That elicited a growl. 'If we were not trying to trust you a little, you would have slept alone, cold, and under guard. You would be kept in the dark for a few weeks while we scoured the island and the ocean around here to be sure you have no hidden allies. Then we would question you, thoroughly, for a very long time, while my father checked everything you said for truth and asked the same questions a hundred times over in slightly different ways, just to be sure. That would take months, and you would hate us by the end of it.'

Heather shivered. "That sounds horrible."

'It would be. But we have no intention of doing that.' Einfari nudged her gently. 'We are suspicious, but you will remain free, allowed to leave the caverns, and not interrogated. My Father insisted that we not harm you, physically or mentally, despite his own misgivings.'

"Mentally?" Horrible half-formed worries about what these dragons might be able to do with this link flashed through her mind. It was all supposed to be voluntary, but-

'Imprisonment wreaks havoc with the mind,' Einfari explained. 'My father says that sometimes. And for you, being in total darkness for weeks on end would probably be worse. That is what I meant.'

Okay. Horrible worries averted. That did still leave all of the normal worries. "Somehow, that doesn't make me feel that much better."

'Then nothing will.' Einfari walked off into the forest, forcing Heather to follow or be left behind. 'I can tell you as many times as I want that they are trying, except for my brother, but if you don't listen…'

"I am listening!" She caught up, following only slightly behind. Walking was still just as difficult in the dark forest. "But they want me dead, and I can't protect-"

Einfari whirled, pouncing and pinning Heather in a heartbeat, strangely twisting as she did for no apparent reason. 'That is my job!' she snarled, continuing to speak while pinning Heather to the ground with her paws. 'This is a different world, Heather, and here it is my responsibility to keep you safe. Eventually, you won't need my protection here, but until then you need to trust that I will protect you from anyone, including my own family.'

Heather tried to calm her frantically pounding heart, to no avail.

Einfari moved away, letting Heather up. 'And I am no threat to you either. Look.'

Heather followed Einfari's prompting gaze to the…

To the tail below her, the one that had cushioned her fall even as Einfari pounced, the reason she had twisted strangely. Einfari had gone out of her way to keep Heather from harm, even when making a point.

Even in what had felt like a breaking point, a moment of rage directed at Heather, Einfari had kept her from harm.

"You are…" How could she voice this? "You act like we really are friends."

Einfari winced. 'Because I want it to be the truth. Don't you?'

She wanted to be safe. Aside from that, if it didn't affect her safety…

"Yes." It had been far too long since she had an actual friend. Her last friend had been killed by the Berserkers right in front of her.

'So act like we are friends, like I am doing, and it will become the truth.' Einfari warbled brightly. 'It should not be so hard. Just fake it until it is no longer fake.'

That was a twisted way of looking at it. Heather felt a grin slide across her face. "That sounds like something I would say on a particularly bad day on the run."

'Is that a compliment?' Einfari stopped in front of a tree and began to rub the side of her head against the bark. 'Or an insult?'

"A compliment," Heather decided. "What are you doing?"

'Smoothing my scales,' Einfari warbled, switching to tend to the other side of her face. 'It helps loose scales come off to be replaced, and helps wake me up.'

A small scale, no larger than the palm of Heather's hand, flaked off and fell to the ground even as Einfari finished explaining. When she stepped away, Heather picked it up.

'Keep that.' She nudged at the scale in Heather's hand. 'We need to collect these.'

"Why?" Of all things, that seemed pointless.

'Have you seen Maour's armor?' Einfari sighed. 'He got lucky. Von had been collecting her scales for most of her life, and he still had to wait a while before he had enough for a full set of armor. The twins only have a helmet each, and Fishlegs little more than that.'

"So…"

'Once my family sheds enough, Maour will make you a helmet. You'll need it to play the part of the dragon rider. No one can see your face, and the helmet helps to make everyone seem like the same person if someone sees.'

"Why just your family? Surely it would be more effective for everyone to contribute?" She pocketed the scale.

'It is not just for efficiency, Heather.' Einfari cast her a solemn stare. 'It is a way of marking you as one of our family. Of saying that we care about your safety.'

Her mind went to the dragons who did not care so much for her safety at the moment. "It is?"

'It will be by the time we have enough to make it,' Einfari growled. 'You will have to work for their acceptance, and I will make sure it is safe for you to do so.'

She kept saying that, and Heather was truly starting to believe it… but she was still a little skeptical. "What will you do if your parents order you to stand aside?"

'Why would they?' Einfari cast her a confused look. 'They want me to be the last line of defense. If someone snaps without cause, I will stop them from doing something they will regret… or should regret but wouldn't, in my brother's case.'

That was a little comforting-

'And if we find out you are not what you seem, though that would be almost impossible given I smelled the truth on you, I would help them kill you,' Einfari finished neutrally. 'That's only if they conclude that you are not as you say you are.'

Checks and balances… all built on the assumption that she was what she claimed. Luckily, she was, but still… it was a scary dependency. "What if someone thinks they have proof I'm tricking all of you, but it's not really proof?"

'We would check it first, of course,' Einfari reassured her. 'We don't kill without being extremely sure.'

"That's reassuring, I guess." Now she had to ask. "Have you..?"

'Killed before?' Her voice was light. 'No, but I could if needed. I know how. Have you?'

Heather's mind went to the unfortunate Berserker guard. She had fought before, but that was the only time she knew for sure, without a doubt, that her enemy had died by her hand. "Yes."

'Human or dragon?' A questioning warble followed that inquiry.

Luckily, she could answer that one truthfully. "Human. A Berserker."

'After they started chasing you, I assume.' Einfari began walking again, leading Heather further into the forest, around the base of the mountain. 'Killing one of them would be far too simple an explanation for what you describe as a long, extensive hunt.'

"A few days ago," she clarified. "Right before Maour intervened on the beach."

'So there is no way that is it,' Einfari mused. 'Were you well known among humans?'

That was funny. "I was nobody. My parents were normal Vikings, and we fished for a living. There was nothing special about us, or me, and nobody even knew me outside of the village."

'And you say you escaped the Outcasts, another human pack,' Einfari continued. 'Is it possible they have a reason to want you back? Perhaps the Berserkers are working for them?'

"We did escape them… but Alvin got what he wanted. Besides, nobody works with the Outcasts. It's dishonorable."

'So one random pack of humans wants you… and there is no reason.' They walked out into a familiar clearing, the small garden. 'I think you eat this stuff?'

Heather took a look around, and frowned. "Not raw, usually. I don't have any way to cook this. Most of it needs to be prepared."

'Does scorched fish sound better? I've seen Maour eating fish after Toothless burns it,' Einfari offered.

"That's more edible than this at the moment. Where do you guys keep the fish?" Was there a storehouse hidden somewhere?

'Keep them?' A light laugh. 'We keep them in the ocean. Why would we store them? They would just rot.'

"So… I'll wait here?" She could wait. It wasn't like they were on any kind of schedule.

'Why not come with me? Riding isn't hard, even without a saddle.' Einfari huffed, shaking her head. 'That reminds me, we need to go find Maour at some point.''

"I'm not sure if I'm comfortable riding…" She couldn't get excited about the idea of being so helpless, her fate totally out of her hands.

'Because you want to keep yourself safe and don't trust me to do it.' Einfari glared at her. 'This again. Get on my back, or I'll grab you and carry you with my paws. Both work for me, though one is a lot scarier than the other, according to Fishlegs. Your choice, but we are fixing this now.'

"Fine." She clearly wasn't getting out of this, as her self-appointed protector seemed to be at the end of her patience. "I'll ride."

'Good. Get on.' Einfari crouched. 'You can put your arms around my neck, but don't squeeze too hard. I need to breathe to fly.'

Heather did as told, awkwardly climbing on. It felt vaguely strange to be riding a dragon, let alone one that could talk to her, but it wasn't as if she had just jumped on. And it was practical, which was the only reason she was taking the risk. Flying was something she was going to need to be able to do, and practice could only help.

'I am going to jump to get high enough to flap my wings,' Einfari warned. 'That is how we get into the air from places like this. Hold on. I can catch you once we're in the air, but you need to hold on long enough for me get high enough for that to work.'

Heather saw what Einfari was doing, making her feel less helpless with all of this, but she didn't object. "Got it."

Einfari leaped into the air, her wings flapping down powerfully, forcing them up, and then again, pulling them further and further from the ground.

Heather barely had the presence of mind to not choke Einfari, clutching as hard as she dared. This was so dangerous, a fall would kill her, and-

They level out, and suddenly, it was a smooth glide. It felt like they were not moving at all, though Heather could clearly see the trees moving past under them, like the waves beneath and around a ship at sea.

She did not fear falling off of a ship, though she was not the best swimmer, so why did she fear this? Well, a ship had railings, and a human captain, and was not so small and maneuverable…

'Not so bad, right?' Einfari chirped back at her. 'And if you fell, I could catch you long before it became a problem, even at this height. We really should go higher, but this is high enough for that.'

"Not yet." She was not so afraid, and it was not so bad to trust a dragon who flew as a way of life to keep her in the air… but… "Let me get used to this."

'Okay.' A moment of silence. 'But this is like standing still, for me. If we are to be effective together, this is just the beginning.'

"What will the end look like?" Ignoring her fear, she still could not imagine that. "Flying faster? Sharp turns?"

Einfari laughed, a deep rumbling sound. 'Funny you should ask. Look over to the right, above the ocean.'

There was nothing there. "I don't see anything."

'It's a full moon… oh, try looking up. They're pretty high.'

Heather slowly brought her gaze up, and up, and-

A silhouette, clearly visible. Night Fury and rider, a slim form above a sleek body.

As she watched, the form jumped off of the dragon, flipping in the air, falling freely. The dragon folded up as if it had lost all control, plummeting beside him. They fell in tandem, doomed.

Doomed. "What are they doing?!"

'Giving you an example to follow,' Einfari quipped. 'Toothless can't fly without Maour. This is even more dangerous for them than it would be for us.'

The figures fell beside each other, moving closer and closer to the water. But then, just seconds before hitting, they somehow maneuvered together and rejoined, pulling out at the last possible moment. A distant roar of triumph could be heard, and they weren't done. The dragon spun, moving like a thrown ax through the air, head over tail, as if rolling forward. It looked entirely unnatural, dangerous, and insane, but neither dragon nor rider seemed to care, and they executed it perfectly, pulling out with the tail slapping the water, skimming it as they pulled up.

And it was a they, according to Einfari and the story Heather had been told. "They are…"

'One, at least in the air,' Einfari corrected her absently. 'Despite being grounded, Toothless is the best flier in the pack. Others are stronger, others are faster, but nobody will even try what he and Maour do every day. They push each other, improving long past when any sane dragon would say "good enough" and be satisfied.'

Was that admiration Heather heard? "Sounds like you like Toothless."

'Not in that way, but yes,' Einfari breezily corrected. 'Toothless is too straightforward for me. He is a great friend, but we would be miserable together as mates. I would fly rings around him and always get my way, and he would let me. That would not be good for either of us.'

So sure. "How does that work for your kind, anyway? Would he decide, or would you?"

'What do you mean by that? It would be a mutual decision. Are you saying it is not for your kind?'

"Sometimes, no." Her mind went to the arranged marriages that were common. "A lot of the time, it is the parents who decide between themselves."

Einfari barked in surprise. 'I would not like that. My parents are great, but they cannot know who would be best for me. I would know.'

"No argument there." She had not had parents long enough to get to that point, but even so, she agreed with Einfari. It should be her choice.

'So, still troubled by this?' Einfari asked out of the blue, as they flew over the beach and out towards open water.

"Honestly, no. Not after seeing… that." She pointed at the distant shapes that were now gliding calmly. "This is nothing compared to what they do."

'True. This is also nothing compared to what I do, normally.' Einfari glanced back at Heather. 'To fish, I need to swoop and grab after shooting into the water. Hold on. Actually, until we get a saddle, "hold on" is good advice in any situation.'

'Got it.' She didn't feel that worried. Maybe trusting Einfari to keep her safe wasn't so crazy.

'That's probably enough,' Toothless called back after pulling out of their newest trick, a forward flip. 'I need to be able to get to Mahelmetan without falling out of the sky in exhaustion.'

"Is the mighty Night Fury admitting he has limits?" Maour teased. "But yes, you're right. Let's get going."

The flight to Mahelmetan was a long one, and one that both Maour and Toothless knew far too well. Despite the construction of a rudimentary forge and garden, there were still a few things that could only be acquired from Viking civilization, and Mahelmetan was the best place for that. It was a hub of trade, and thus inured to foreigners, and close enough to fly to without stopping for rest. Maour could trade and get whatever was needed without attracting attention as just another face in the crowd.

By the time they actually reached Mahelmetan, the end of a long and mostly boring flight through the rest of the night and much of the following day, it was only an hour or so before dusk. Toothless set down in the small and scraggly patch of trees that was the closest thing the island had to a forest, looking around warily.

Maour made no noise whatsoever, knowing what Toothless was doing. A few moments passed in utter silence.

'Nothing nearby. No animals, no Vikings, no children messing around.' Toothless's voice was clipped and quick. 'Let's get me hidden.'

Over the years, the forest had become a bit less abandoned and empty, which was why neither of them felt like lingering in the open. A few close calls had made them wary.

Once Toothless was safely hidden in the usual spot, covered in a carpet of old pine needles while crouching in a conveniently-sized hollow, Maour left the forest, making his way to the village itself. As long as nobody saw where he was coming from, he would be entirely unremarkable, one foreigner among scores of them.

On that note… he tugged at his light red tunic, resisting the urge to scratch. "Never thought I'd say this, but my armor is more comfortable than normal clothing." Visits to civilization were the only times he wore something besides his armor for longer than it took to clean said armor.

'Given how much work we put into making it that way, I would hope so.' Toothless warbled curiously. 'Why not use the cloak?'

Maour thought about the black cloak that was fitted into the inside of his armor, folded and stored for such situations. "Because I'd look like a shady criminal trying to avoid attention. That's for emergencies."

'Like needing to get spare parts because my fin broke while traveling?'

"Exactly."

Maour nodded to Framja, the village blacksmith, as he passed her forge. She was too busy flattening a bent sword to even look up, so she didn't notice him.

The tavern that Ruffnut had mentioned was distinct if nothing else, and Maour already knew where in the village it was, so he had no trouble finding it. The building was almost lopsided, a two-story shack that made most of its money off of foreigners looking to spend a night somewhere besides their ship. The alcohol was cheap, but the rooms were expensive, apparently because it was one of the few inns around, and by far the closest to the docks.

The inside of the inn was mostly deserted at the moment. Looking around, Maour could only see a few people, most of whom seemed to be waiting for someone. It was not busy at all.

"Well, plenty of space at least." He sat down at a table in a corner and tried to look preoccupied. It was best nobody noticed him, and someone surveying the room was pretty obvious.

'Boring,' Toothless commented. 'Isn't this the place you saw someone thrown through a door a few months ago?'

"Yup. It'll get busy once the day's trading is over," Maour guessed. "Everyone is still working right now."

The stairs up to the second floor were visible from where he sat, as was the door. He would know, without obviously watching, if anyone entered the tavern from either direction.

'What are the odds this is a trap?' Toothless asked after a few minutes of silence. 'For you specifically.'

"It's not impossible, but I'd say it's unlikely," Maour responded quietly. "Very unlikely. The parents have nothing to gain, and would risk their own children in the process. If Astrid got our home's location out of me, she would attack, and the twins and Fishlegs would be a part of that fight."

'She would not get it from you, though, because I would save you first,' Toothless growled dangerously. 'You know that.'

"I know you would try," Maour corrected. "But what if they manage to take me captive and sail away with me?" He shuddered at the thought. "You couldn't swim, but I would sooner die than tell her where we all live."

'Stop talking like that.' Toothless sounded unsettled. 'They would never make it off this island. I can be there before they drag you out of that miserable, flammable pile of sticks.'

"That is true," Maour conceded, wanting to calm his brother down. "It was just a possibility. This is probably not a trick. They would have just taken Fishlegs or the twins." Unless the deal was that those three received amnesty in exchange for the parents help in catching him specifically… but he didn't think Astrid could do that. Her obsession with killing dragons wouldn't let her pass up the riders of three Night Furies.

He assumed. It had been years, and Gobber's yearly letters were no substitute for actually seeing Astrid's current state. His assumptions were outdated. Hopefully, that wouldn't matter.

Time passed. The tavern became crowded, though nobody tried to occupy his table.

Then someone who seemed vaguely familiar walked in, looking around warily.

'Wow, the twins really look like their mother,' Toothless commented. 'I need to tease Blast and Tuffnut about that when we get back.'

"That's beneath you, Bud," Maour muttered, cracking a small smile and catching Ms. Thorston's attention, motioning to his table. "Besides, Tuffnut wouldn't care. He's probably been hearing that his whole life."

That was the end of their private conversation, because Ms. Thorston sat down directly opposite Maour, well within hearing distance. He didn't want to come across as insane.

"The Ingermans should be along soon," Ms. Thoston remarked. "If we're quick, we can get my questions out of the way before Ingrid starts screaming at you."

That was all said in a bored tone. Maour was reminded that he had barely known Ms. Thorston back on Berk, having had no reason to interact with her. It wasn't like he had ever voluntarily spent time with the twins back then.

"What do you want to know?" he asked neutrally. "Contrary to what they might have told you, I'm under the same rules they are. Some questions I might not be able to answer."

"Oh, I expected that." Ms. Thorston stared at him intently. "All I need to know is what's the worst that could happen if my children decide to prank the wrong person wherever you all live."

That was a strange question… but a totally reasonable one for the mother of the twins, in retrospect. "It already has, honestly. They came out of it fine, if embarrassed and tired." They had only tried to prank the Nótt family once, and once had been enough to learn that the Nótts were more than capable of striking back in kind, though for them it wasn't fun, it was revenge.

"There are no rules to punish them for destroying things?" It was impossible to tell what she wanted to hear.

"We do have rules, but they know to follow them." The twins had mellowed… slightly. Things didn't explode as often as Maour would have guessed, given the twins had access to quite a bit of willing firepower now, and he could only interpret that as progress.

"Which means there's something pretty scary on the other end enforcing said rules," Ms. Thorston concluded. "Fine by me. They seem happy, and I highly doubt they would have turned down joining me on my search if they had any reason to want out."

"What search?" Maour asked, wishing the twins would tell him… well, anything, instead of sending him in blind.

"My husband is late," Ms. Thorston said matter-of-factly. "He was supposed to be back three years ago to pick me up, once the twins were almost adults."

'I have so many questions,' Toothless muttered.

Maour did too, but he knew all too well that answers would just raise even more, so he let that pass. "They didn't want to go?"

"Nope. Fine by me. Keep them alive, will you?" Ms. Thorston asked casually. "We're pretty hard to kill, but I've got the feeling hanging around with Night Furies is slightly more dangerous than being around other Vikings."

"Less, really," Maour corrected. "Vikings aren't nearly as laid-back."

"Where's the fun in that?" Ms. Thorston pushed her chair back, standing up. "Can I assume that you'll still be around here in a few years?"

"Johann will probably know where we are if we're not," Maour answered slowly. "How many years?"
"No idea. Depends on how much of the world I search before finding him," Ms. Thorston replied nonchalantly. "And how hard it is to remind him of why he should never be late." She patted two long knife hilts strapped to her belt, disguised by her tunic's folds. "Good luck with Ingrid's hysterics. I don't feel like sticking around for that."

Maour stared in some mixture of shock and consideration as she made her exit.

'Is it strange that I totally believe she'll find him?'

"I do too, somehow. How long it will take, on the other hand…" What would it be like, to have a mother who left her whole family behind for an unknown amount of time to pursue some other goal? He really wasn't sure how the twins were okay with all of this, but it wasn't his business… and their whole family was different in ways he really didn't get anyway.

'So that's one down. Where are the others?'

"Good question." It was getting late, and the light was fading outside, shadows creeping across the wall from the slat windows facing the street. Usually, he would still be asleep at this time of day, save for patrolling some days, which everyone did, taking turns to spread the chore out as much as possible.

Eventually, after waiting for a while longer, he saw the Ingermans as they came in. Unlike Ms. Thorston, he knew them, if only because Fishlegs had been the only neutral teen of their age group. He didn't know them well, but he knew that the father was quiet and the mother overbearing.

They saw him and came over, sitting as Ms. Thorston had. Ingrid, Fishlegs' mother, did not look happy at all, while her husband gave no hint as to how he felt about any of this.

"I hear you took another name," Fishlegs' father began politely. "Would you prefer we use that?"

"You can call me Maour," he allowed, disliking that the name that should be reserved for friends had to be given out to all Vikings, as his formal name would raise too many questions. It was still better than going by Hiccup, in any case.

"Why should we? Your mother named you Hiccup," Ingrid complained. "She was a friend. I'm not going to disrespect her like that."

"Given it is custom to name runts Hiccup, I don't think she really got to name me," Maour countered. "So it's no disrespect to her if I choose to ignore what custom decided I should be called."

"Names are not important," Fishlegs' father intervened. "We have a few questions for you."

"Like why you tricked my son into-" Ingrid began angrily.

Maour slammed his hands on the table to cut her off, entirely unwilling to let that go on any further. He could almost feel Toothless snarling, though only the sound came through, and was not going to be bullied by Fishlegs' mother, of all people. Those days were long gone.

"I did nothing but introduce him to Berg. Do you have any specific questions that I can actually answer, or did you have nothing in mind beyond empty accusations?" He stared at Ingrid. "Because if accusations are all you have, you are wasting my time. A lot of it, in fact, and you're lucky I was in the area at all to begin with."

"We certainly don't mean to insult you or waste your time, and I believe our son made his choices on his own," Fishlegs' father agreed, casting his wife a glance. "It is clear he trusts… his friend. We want to know what happens if that… association… becomes public."

"It shouldn't, and we have plenty of ways to prevent that," Maour began, "but if it does… nothing happens. He and I, for the record, are tied to these 'friends', and we will fight for them if necessary. They will do the same for us, without hesitation." He added that last bit to placate Ingrid. "The same thing that would happen if someone in your tribe attacked another. We do what anyone would do, defend it and our people."

"And if your 'people' decide to be the ones doing the attacking?" Ingrid asked worriedly.

"Haven't so far," Maour retorted, knowing he was stepping on thin ground now. He could not give away too much. Many things needed to remain secret. "And I won't attack anyone without a very good reason. You should trust your son feels the same."

'Careful. You're doing fine so far, but still,' Toothless cautioned.

"And what about us?" Ingrid scowled. "He's our son, but we don't even get to visit him?"

"I don't think either of you would be happy living with us," Maour admitted. "And I don't think I could get that to happen anyway. The only people who get to know where we live are the ones that live there themselves." That did bring up the problem of where the Ingermans would go, though. "I'm told you left Berk permanently?"

"Things are… stagnant, almost. Nothing changes, and nothing improves." Fishlegs' father sighed. "There was no reason to stay, and with Stoick gone, I cannot see anything good in Berk's future."

"So we want to know where to go that keeps us closest to Fishlegs," Ingrid summarized.

"Here, honestly." He would not tell them just how close that was, but he could say enough. "This is the best place if you want to be visited regularly. I'm sure they'll let you stay if you ask." For Vikings, it was as simple as requesting permission and building a house somewhere. As long as the Ingermans could earn a living somehow, that was all it would take.

"That's all I needed to know," Fishlegs' father admitted. "This place is good for trade, and far more… alive… than Berk ever was. I can make a living here. Ingrid?"
"If this is the closest place, fine." She was staring at Maour with an odd look on her face. "You look like her, you know. The same build, same eyes and hair color..."

Like his dead mother, Valka, he assumed. "No, I don't know. How would I know?"

"Nobody to tell you, not with how you left," she murmured disapprovingly. "And now, with Stoick gone…"

He was not going to get into this now. That part of his life was safely behind him, and he did not mourn it at all. Not even Stoick.

Well, nothing but what could have been. That had died years ago. In a very real way, he had mourned for Stoick long ago. Now it was nothing but a distant regret.

But if he let that show, he would get even more on Ingrid's bad side, so he decided not to respond to that, instead standing to leave.

Fishlegs' father stuck out a hand, and after a moment of confusion Maour took it, shaking his hand as if they had just struck a deal.

"I'll be sure to let him know you'll be staying," Maour remarked. "He should be able to come by often enough, though it is not a small thing, to come all the way out here."

"He and I can discuss that when he next returns," Fishlegs' father agreed. "Safe travels."

Maour grinned at that. "I'll tell the 'boat' to be extra careful on the way back."

'Just for that, I'm dunking you in the shallows when we get home,' Toothless grumbled as Maour made his way back to the woods. 'If I hurry, we'll make it back before dawn.'

"Good. I need to get started on a saddle for Heather and Einfari," Maour recalled. "No reason to procrastinate on that."
'It's not like we have anything else to do.'

Another long, boring flight later, followed by the promised dunking, and Maour and Toothless were home. They set down, both still dripping sea water, right in front of the Svartur section of the caverns...

To be met by Von, looking very unhappy. 'Mom is sick.'

"What?" Maour slid down off of Toothless, his tiredness and good mood both disappearing in an instant. "What did we miss?"

'How bad is it?' Toothless asked worriedly.

'She's threw up all over the main cave,' Von reported sadly. 'And again a few hours later. Eldurhjarta is checking her out now, but the main cavern is really disgusting.'

"I have a bucket in my workshop to bring in some water to maybe clean the floor, but I want to see Cloey first." He took a step forward-

Only to be blocked by Von's outstretched wing. 'Eldurhjarta says we need to keep our distance until she can figure out if it's catching.'

Maour smiled broadly. "The thing is, I'm not a dragon, so I can't catch anything." It was common knowledge that it was impossible for a sheep to get a fever from a Viking, or vice versa. "So that rule doesn't apply to me."

Von shrugged, still blocking him. "Are you sure?"

"Pretty sure." And if he was wrong… oh well. It was worth the risk. Besides, Eldurhjarta was in there, so he wouldn't even be the only one risking it.

'Fine, but if Eldurhjarta yells at me I'm pointing her to you,' Von conceded, not sounding all that unhappy, and withdrew her wing. 'Go make sure she's okay, brother.'

Maour slipped past her, leaving her and Toothless out in front of the caves… in body.

In mind, he was not at all surprised to find Toothless tagging along. "I knew you wouldn't put up a fight as long as I got to go see her."

'Why should I? It's a smart rule. We're just lucky it doesn't apply to you.'

"Lucky…" He passed through the main cavern, noting the puddles of digested fish, stomach liquid, and general bile soaking into the moss. "Yikes. That's going to be hard to clean up." It might be easier to just rip out the moss that was affected and let the rest grow back to cover the bare stone.

A faint bark of pain led Maour to one of the unused side caverns. When he turned the corner, he saw exactly what he was expecting. Cloey, looking miserable, lying on her side, and Eldurhjarta mumbling and poking her in the stomach.

Cloey saw him immediately. Her eyes widened. 'You should not be here, son.'

"I'm human; it's not likely I can catch what you have in any case," Maour explained, going to kneel by her head. "Are you feeling any better now?" He suspected food poisoning, personally, though dragons pretty much always ate raw fish anyway, and never suffered any ill effects from that.

'A little.' Cloey yelped. 'Hey, watch it.'

'I am, Svarturkló,' Eldurhjarta replied calmly. 'This is just how I work. If you want the best chance of me figuring this out, you will let me do my best.'

'Fine,' Cloey sighed. 'I feel tired. And hungry. Does that help?'

'Do you still feel like throwing up?' Eldurhjarta absently pushed Maour out of her way and began tapping on Cloey's throat with her front paw. 'Does this make you sick?'

'No, not really, but I don't feel right, either.'

'Okay…' Eldurhjarta took a step back, closing her eyes. 'I don't think I can say for sure, but there are some things I can rule out.'

'Is it catching?' Cloey asked anxiously.

'No, none of my possible answers can be spread.'

'Then let Skuggi back in.' Cloey nodded to Maour. 'Kappi and Von too.'

'Heard that,' Toothless remarked in Maour's head. There was no need for Maour to go get him or Von. Eldurhjarta stepped out and came back with Shadow, who went to nuzzle his mate tenderly.

'Next time, throw up outside,' Shadow teased. 'If you can, anyway. I don't know how we're going to keep the cave from smelling like your last few meals for the next month.'

'We eat the same thing, Skuggi,' Cloey purred viciously. 'I would think you would not mind that smell.'

That reminded Maour that it was basically going to be up to him, with small and nimble hands capable of carrying buckets, to clean the cavern. More to do before he let himself sleep.

'Okay,' Eldurhjarta began, once everyone was there and paying attention. 'I can't say for sure what's wrong, but I have three possible answers.'

'We're listening…' Von warbled nervously.

'The first possibility is that something Svarturkló ate disagreed with her. If there are no further symptoms, that was it.'

'The best-case-scenario,' Shadow agreed.

Eldurhjarta nodded. 'The least complicated one, anyway. Another possibility is that it's one of any number of illnesses. If she starts developing any other symptoms, tell me immediately. That will help narrow it down.'

'What should we be looking for?' Toothless asked.

'I'll tell you later. If Svarturkló knows what we're waiting to see signs of, she might convince herself she's feeling those signs through worrying about it.'

That made some sense, though it was a strange concept. "Worrying about some kind of sickness might give it to you?"

'No,' Eldurhjarta huffed, 'but if I say, for instance, that you might start itching between the scales in the next few days, you will be far more likely to overreact to a normal itch and freak out. The same applies to other symptoms in some ways. If I tell her what to worry about, she will worry about it. I don't need that complication on top of an already difficult problem.'

'So watch for anything unusual,' Cloey summarized, 'but nothing specific.'

'Exactly. Hopefully, it is not something serious.' Eldurhjarta sighed. 'There is one more possibility, but it is more a coincidence than an actual option, one I'm only including because it's not impossible.'

There was something about the way she said that… "What is it?"

'Svarturkló, have you been as active as usual, lately?' Eldurhjarta asked, sounding genuinely curious.

'I've been skipping my runs recently, but yes,' Cloey responded honestly. 'Some days I feel like I've done a lot more than I actually did, for some reason.' Her voice dropped as it hit her. 'Is that one of the symptoms you're looking for? Feeling tired all the time?'

Maour had noticed Cloey sleeping in more often, now that it was brought to his attention. He hadn't thought anything of it at the time.

'No, not for any illness,' Eldurhjarta reassured Cloey. 'But it is curious. You've put on weight, I think. I would almost think all of this is because of an egg, but you would have figured it out if that was the case.' She gestured to Toothless and Von. 'It is not as if you do not know the feeling of carrying an egg.'

'I don't think it is that,' Cloey rumbled. 'Their eggs never made me throw up or feel anywhere near this tired.'

"Besides, we'd be able to see it," Maour added.

Everyone turned to stare at him.

"What?" He pointed to Cloey's stomach, feeling self-conscious. "See? Still pretty flat, so no egg."

Eldurhjarta laughed wonderingly. 'Are you telling me you can see human eggs before they are laid?'

Okay, now he really wished he hadn't said anything. "Well, we don't have eggs, but yeah. It's really obvious later on." Unless the Viking woman in question was that large to begin with, which wasn't unheard of…

'No eggs?' Von chirped curiously.

"Nope," Maour responded, hoping to cut that line of inquiry off immediately before anyone could request more than a vague explanation. "We basically skip the egg and just…"

'You're turning red, Maour. Is this embarrassing?" Von tilted her head. 'Or can you not breathe? Toothless, which does that mean?'

'Either, but I'm not sitting on him, so it must be embarrassing.' Toothless grinned toothily. 'Spill it, brother.'

"Basically, the baby just comes out of the mother at some point," Maour admitted. "No egg for us. It takes about nine months to get to that point, and by about five months through that it's really obvious." He was not going to be allowed to live this down, he could just tell.

'Well, for us it is not so obvious,' Cloey cut in, saving him from further questions. 'Four months, maybe, and the egg is not at all obvious beforehand. Then a few more months before it hatches.'

'But you do not think that is it, and you would know.' Eldurhjarta shrugged. 'So it is not likely at all.'

'Too bad,' Shadow sighed. 'Thank you, Eldurhjarta. We will be sure to let you know if anything changes.'

'I wish I could do more,' she admitted. 'I can't tell you anything useful about how to treat it when I don't know for sure what it is.'

'You've done enough. We can take it from here,' Shadow reassured her.

After Eldurhjarta left, Toothless cast Cloey a suspicious glance. 'And since you did not deny the possibility of having an egg in general, can we assume you've been trying? Without telling us?'

'Did my son just ask to be informed-' Cloey began, her tone disbelieving.

Toothess put a paw over his face, groaning loudly. 'Yes, and I take it back. It's just that last time you decided to add a person to this family and didn't tell anyone first, it wasn't the best move.'

Cloey blinked, staring blankly from her place on her side. 'Well…'

'He's not wrong,' Shadow commented. 'But I think it is also our choice whether or not we want to try for an egg, son. This is not another adoption. It is the natural way of things.'

'I know that,' Toothless complained, sitting back up. 'But some warning would be nice next time.'

'It is not working out very well anyway,' Cloey sighed. 'We've been trying for quite a while. It should not take this long. Would you have wanted to have your hopes brought up for nothing, if I cannot have another egg?'

'I think it still would have been nice to know it could happen,' Von quietly remarked. 'Even if it is only a chance.'

Cloey wilted, probably remembering just how badly Von had taken not being told last time. 'I suppose so. But now you all know, so there is that.'

'I am more concerned about you getting well, my mate,' Shadow hummed. 'And at the moment, that probably means sleeping and being pampered. No getting out of that.'

'I'm still going flying and running and fishing,' Cloey immediately announced.

'No, you're not. You have not been for the last few weeks anyway, and you will get the rest you need, so that this goes away quickly.' Shadow literally set his foot down with that decision. 'We both know Eldurhjarta will tell you the same if you make me go get her advice on this, so do not waste our time.'

'Fine.' Cloey shrugged uncomfortably, groaning softly. 'I might argue if I didn't still feel a little queasy.'

"That reminds me, I need to try and get the main cavern cleaned," Maour remarked. "Von, Toothless, can you both help me?" He would figure out some way for them to make it easier even if there was only one bucket.

'Sorry you have to do it,' Cloey whined. 'I'll make it up to you.'

"No need." Maour smiled at his adoptive mother. "Happy to help." He'd clean vomit for hours if it made her feel better, but sadly that was not how things worked.

On the bright side, he might actually get some sleep before collapsing from exhaustion if he hurried. Time to find out if moss was washable.

After food, flamed fish that Einfari only partially burned to a crisp, Heather and Einfari returned to the cavern, lingering outside in the moonlight for a while. To get everyone else accustomed to Heather, or so Einfari said.

That was a good goal, because right now, hanging around the cave was awkward, to say the least. Nóttleiðtogi visibly flinched when he rounded the corner and saw her, and quickly wandered off. Nóttreiði, on the other hand, remained just outside the cavern and watched her like a hawk, growling so quietly that she could barely hear it.

That probably had something to do with one of the other Nótts, who was far less unhappy. Nótthljóður had walked right up to her and was staring curiously.

Heather got down on her knees to look the smaller Fury in the eye. "Hi."

Nótthljóður chirped happily and nudged her knees, warbling happily. It was clear she wanted something, though Heather had no idea what.

'She wants you to play with her,' Einfari provided helpfully from close by. 'Wrestling.' Nótthljóður nodded happily, still pawing at Heather's legs pleadingly.

Heather tried not to flinch as Nóttreiði's constant growling in the background rose in volume for a moment before subsiding. "Is that a good idea?"

'My jerk of a brother knows you're just going to be playing with her,' Einfari said pointedly, 'so it's fine. She's more likely to hurt you than the other way around.' That was aimed at Nótthljóður, who squeaked indignantly and stomped a paw crossly.

'No claws, no teeth, and get off the moment I say,' Einfari said sternly. 'She doesn't have any of those things, or scales to protect her.'

Nótthljóður nodded impatiently, her tail waving in the air in anticipation.

"I do have teeth," Heather objected. "But yeah, no biting with them." She had no desire to feel those tiny needles sinking into her. Nótthljóður might be small, but her teeth looked extremely sharp and pointed.

Heather got down on her knees and faced her opponent. What exactly did Einfari mean by wrestling? Did dragons wrestle in the same ways humans did?

Nótthljóður leaped forward, scrabbling for a grip with all four legs. She was shockingly heavy. Heather almost collapsed under the onslaught, rolling to the side to escape, only to be tackled again... and promptly pinned. Nótthljóður grinned down at her, barking happily. After a moment of triumph, she rolled off and ran back to sit in front of Heather, ready to go again.

'Enjoying having someone your own size to play with for once, Joy?' Einfari asked teasingly.

Heather sat up, her heart racing. "I don't know how it works for you guys, but for me, that was actually scary." Even a small Night Fury was really fast and really aggressive in play. She had not been expecting that. Einfari's sudden pounce from earlier hadn't been that scary, despite her expecting this and knowing it was in play.

Einfari's grin vanished. 'Are you okay?'

"Just surprised," Heather ruefully admitted. "Next time I'll do better." Now she was starting to think about it. Nótthljóður used her paws to pin. That could be exploited.

Nótthljóður tilted her head, waiting for Heather to get up. The moment Heather sat up, Nótthljóður leaped for her in exactly the same way, clearly hoping for a repeat performance. Heather managed to grab one of the Fury's front paws with her hand, and then the other. Nótthljóður struggled, but she wasn't nearly so strong when she was trying to pull away.

Heather leaned forward, pushing Nótthljóður up onto her back legs, still holding the paws, and gently pushed the little Fury over, letting go as she did. Nótthljóður toppled and then scrambled upright, clearly confused as to how to beat that strategy.

Heather waited, a smile crossing her face. When Nótthljóður came for her next, she grabbed a front paw again, but couldn't get at the other, as Nótthljóður was waving it frantically, making it hard to reach.

So Heather twisted in how she was sitting and grabbed one of Nótthljóður's back paws instead, on the same side. Nótthljóður began barking frantically, squirming crazily, unbalanced on one side. Just to tease Nótthljóður a little further, Heather slid her grip up the little Fury's legs towards her armpits and loosened her grip a bit to tickle her. The squirming and barking increased dramatically-

A deep snarl cut through the air, and Heather instantly dropped both paws, freezing on the spot. Nótthljóður froze too.

'Brother, you ruined their game,' Einfari said coldly.

Nóttreiði stood and stalked towards Heather, growling all the while. He stopped an inch away from her face.

'He says that you are not to so much as touch her again,' Einfari supplied, coming to stand behind Heather. 'Quit it, Nóttreiði. Heather didn't hurt her. She was having fun.'

Nótthljóður looked from one sibling to the other, clearly confused. Her ears drooped, and she whined loudly.

'Yes, of course, you can,' Einfari said loudly. 'It isn't his decision to make.'

Another deep snarl cut the air at that. Nóttreiði did not agree.

A standoff, of sorts, with Heather and Nótthljóður in the middle. No one moved. No one spoke either, though for all Heather knew there was a fierce argument going on, and Einfari had just stopped participating. Heather couldn't wait to be able to hear all dragons herself, because at the moment she felt totally out of the loop.

Nóttreiði let out a growl. Nótthljóður barked angrily, yelping at her older brother, presumably saying something as she did.

Then Nóttskarpur entered the cave. Again, there was nothing Heather could hear, but all three of the younger dragons wilted slightly. Nótthljóður ran to Nóttskarpur and glared at her older brother.

Einfari purred victoriously. 'Basically, my Mother says Nóttreiði isn't in charge.' Then her purr faltered. 'She also says she wants to talk to you alone as soon as you can hear all of us.'

That sounded ominous, but Heather nodded. "I'll come to you as soon as that happens," she promised. It should only be a few days, according to what Maour had said in passing, as Heather already had hearing pinned open slightly.

With that, Nóttskarpur and Nótthljóður left the cave, the fledgling bumbling along after her mother, inexplicably clumsy now despite wrestling quite effectively just moments before.

Nóttreiði did not leave. He simply went back to his spot by the cave entrance and resumed his role as a glaring sentry.

Author's Note: This was a bit longer than the usual chapter. The crazy part? This was originally only the first half. I had to cut that chapter into two, resulting in this and what will be chapter 7.