Author's Note: Late but quality, that should be my motto for this story. Enjoy!

The island of Mahelmetan was embroiled in uncertainty, its people staring at the fleet that had inexplicably come to do something other than kill and conquer them. Given they had been ready to lay down their lives in glorious combat only minutes ago, the uncertainty was understandable.

Heather was feeling uncertain too, for an entirely different reason. She was here because the pack wanted a human representative keeping an eye on the situation, and Maour couldn't do it. But nobody who lived here knew that. They just saw a black-haired woman following along behind the small procession of foreigner Chieftains and one dragon. Nobody stopped her; Maour glanced back at her and smiled.

She slipped into the tavern between Maour and Einfari, easily avoiding notice by the extremely distracted Chief Rotison, who was the one leading them into the tavern in the first place.

'Good to see you,' Einfari purred, nuzzling her back as they walked inside. 'Now quick, hide behind me. We still can do the big reveal.'

Heather smirked at that, but she crouched behind Einfari as her friend walked along the edge of the wall. They both stopped in front of a large window where stripes of sunlight filtered through without allowing for visibility on the street outside.

"Let's get to it," Rotison grunted irritably, claiming a table in the far corner. "I'll not be pushed around. We're coming to an arrangement or my people will make sure you get nothing from this island but ash, blood, death, and blunted weapons, even if we have to use our own bodies to accomplish that last one."

Mogadon scoffed at that, pulling back two chairs and sitting in both of them at once, still eliciting groans of strain from the wood beneath him. "At least you're not tryin' to appease us."

"No need for any of that, though," Aldir said calmly, taking his own seat across from Rotison. "We really did mean all of that out there. This island is the center of activity in the area, and a valuable prize for our enemy, not for us. We're honorable Vikings and have no quarrel with you or your people."

"I've actually worked with some of these people," Maour offered. He was leaning against a wall, doing a quite impressive job, to Heather's eyes, of appearing mysterious and intimidating despite his size. "I'd not see them hurt."

"You brought a dragon onto my island, into a tavern, and you expect me to listen to you?" Rotison scoffed. "I don't deal with madmen."

"Then you'd be against the Berserkers anyway," Bertha cut in. "They're led by a madman and a madwoman, now."

"I'd let them trade and then send them on their way like any other visiting ship," Rotison retorted. "Tell me what I really get from this aside from guaranteed business."

"Protection from a Berserker conquest," Aldir offered. "Or at least allies against that. It's likely to happen, as we said earlier. That, plus our patronage, should be enough to make this worthwhile."

"I'll want a treaty of some sort, affirming that you'll leave once… What?" Rotison asked, sounding almost curious. "Why are they out here? Why are you here?"

"Long story short," Maour offered, "they want all of our islands, and we want their armada gone. Their ships were here in the first place on a whim of the madman in charge, and nothing more. But they're here now, so we came here to destroy them."

"Away from your island by bringing the fight to mine," Rotison said sourly. "I want you all gone as soon as that's done. And I want it in writing that I'm not takin' your side in any of this. You don't get to conscript men, order me around, have my people fight for you, anything. We'll defend our island, no more."

"Add that you'll apprehend and turn over any Berserker spies you find, and we've got a good deal going," Maour said neutrally. "But I think it's time I go, so I should probably introduce you to the human component of my tribe's voice in all of this."

"Wha'?" Rotison asked.

"My island's representative, or representatives," Maour sighed. "Heather?"

'Showtime.' Einfari warbled loudly, an oddly cheerful sound in the tense atmosphere of the coopted tavern, and stepped back, her eyes trained on Heather, who stood confidently.

'Just act like you are supposed to be here, because you are,' Einfari offered, slinking around to lurk behind Heather, literally backing her up.

"Chief Rotison," Heather said respectfully, doing her best to act like she had every right to be where she was. It was easy to be confident when she had a Night Fury at her back, allies on all sides, and overwhelming force sympathetic to her side of things, but she would have to work with this man and his people, and closely at that. Being respectful now would pay off later.

"I remember you," Rotison said dangerously. "This was all a setup."

"All I did was ensure you did not waste your life against people who had no quarrel with you," Heather said firmly. "A small amount of deception ensured you and your people didn't act against your own best interests. I respect those interests, and my people do as well. That is why I am one half of our representatives on this island."

"I suppose that beast is the other half," Rotison replied angrily.

"No, she's going home," Heather said blithely. "She's been traveling a lot lately. See you later, Einfari."

'If we did not have the link I would slap you for thinking this was enough of a reunion,' Einfari complained dramatically. 'I will catch up with you after dark.'

Heather nodded, knowing that Einfari didn't need confirmation of what they had both planned earlier. They knew all of the details regarding who would be staying and leaving, which was more than she could say for Maour. Of course, he thought he knew all.

And on that note… "Maour, we have this," Heather continued. "Unless you want to stay. Einfari can take you to your ride home."

"I guess I'd better get going. It's a long trip from here," Maour said casually, as had been predetermined by the pack. Every opportunity would be taken to subtly imply that the Isle wasn't close to Mahelmetan. That was just basic safety.

"Now, abou' that treaty," Mogadon drawled, ignoring Maour as he and Einfari left the building, his attention entirely on Rotison.

Heather resisted the urge to just fall to the back of the room and lose herself in Einfari's senses as the dragon trotted away with Maour; the pack was counting on her to pay attention and ensure nothing went wrong with all of this, no matter how boring it was. Well, her and Eldurfjall, but he wasn't here yet. She would just have to get Einfari's account of how the surprise went after the fact.

'I just love being stared at in confusion and fear,' Einfari said scathingly, though there was just a hint of amusement undercutting her tone. 'Let's just fly to the forest's edge.'

"No argument here," Maour agreed, hopping into the saddle and holding on tightly as Einfari took off, just barely clearing the buildings to either side of her. Any narrower, and her wingspan would have made it impossible to take off from the street.

Maour put that thought aside to revisit later; at first glance, it seemed like a pretty effective strategy for preventing escape from a village, if one that would have to be coincidence, and he wanted to be sure he remembered to come up with a solution.

'No response?' Einfari mused as they glided above the village.

"Sorry, what?"

'I expected you to defend them, to say that they have never seen a peaceful dragon and of course would be wary, or something along those lines,' she clarified.

"If you know it, why would I bother reminding you?" Maour retorted amiably. He knew she wasn't actually questioning him with the intent of getting a serious answer; after two months, he could distinguish between shooting the breeze and serious conversation, though she made it hard by always sounding serious.

'Something about boundless optimism and wanting to defend the helpless from my sharp wit and sharp intellect,' Einfari purred. 'Though you were not defending the Meatheads by the second week of our trip, so maybe I should not have assumed so.'

"The moment they started making coarse jokes was the moment I stopped minding the insults you threw their way," Maour recalled. Familiarity really did breed contempt when it came to previously mortal enemies forced to travel together. Given none of the Meatheads had been able to hear Einfari's scathing retorts anyway, it wasn't like letting her go at them caused trouble, either.

Einfari swooped down toward the forest. 'I did not mind the jokes, really. I am no Eldur, but learning what humans consider crude and vulgar is interesting enough.'

"So long as you keep me out of that learning," Maour said vehemently. Luckily, Heather had fielded all of Einfari's questions, meaning he had not had to answer anything too embarrassing.

'No promises.' Einfari set down lightly at the edge of the forest, landing by three tree stumps. 'See you around, Maour.'

Maour dismounted and put a hand on her forehead. "You too, Einfari. You know, we could just fly back together. I can wait until nightfall."

Einfari snorted at him, shaking his hand off with a wide grin. 'I don't think he would like that...'

"He?"

Einfari hopped to the side, landing nimbly on the tree trunks an instant before something slammed into Maour from behind, something large and not at all gentle.

'Did you just offer to stay away for half a day?' Toothless asked disbelievingly as he sat on Maour and snorted in his hair.

"Can't… breathe…" Maour wheezed. Toothless wasn't actually pressing down all that hard, but Toothless didn't know that.

'Oh, sorry!' Toothless raised his paw and let Maour roll out from under it. 'I thought I was being gentle.'

"You were," Maour revealed, standing up and embracing his brother, wrapping his arms around Toothless's forehead. "How are you here already?"

'No "good to see you again" or "I missed you", just a question about logistics?' Toothless growled dramatically. 'Einfari has corrupted you!'

'I did no such thing,' Einfari hummed primly, hopping off of the stumps and heading into the forest. 'Corruption implies it is a bad change, and he was already more like my family anyway. We'll be challenging you for his allegiance as soon as we get back.' She paused just within sight, as if waiting for a response.

'You're joking,' Toothless called out, pulling away from Maour to stare at Einfari. 'Right?' His tail wrapped around Maour's legs, presumably holding him there just in case.

'Of course,' Einfari purred and shook her head. 'I'd never tell you beforepaw if I really meant it.' With a flick of her tail, she was gone, melting into the sparse undergrowth and copious shadows within the forest proper.

"I do still want to know how you got here," Maour said, though he had already guessed simply because there was only one plausible answer.

'Heather, of course,' Toothless replied, unwinding his tail and licking Maour on the arm. 'You taste like sea salt.'

"As opposed to land salt?" Maour asked, walking around and inspecting the false tailfin out of pure habit. "We're going home right away, I take it."

'No, we're going to fly until we're within sight of the island, and then we're going to do everything Heather can't help me do and then some,' Toothless said firmly. 'Cloey, Shadow and Von all say to fly until I'm ready to drop before coming back to the caverns.'

"They're okay without you taking your turn watching the hatchlings?" Maour certainly wouldn't object so long as that was the case. He was itching to actually contribute to the flight after two months of just idly sitting around while Einfari did all of the work, and the peaceful, simple flight home wasn't going to scratch that itch nearly enough.

'We set it up so that it's not my turn anyway,' Toothless revealed. 'We planned this out well in advance. Heather and I have been working on her side of the tailfin whenever you're asleep.'

"Keeping secrets?" Maour laughed, letting Toothless know he wasn't bothered, and slung himself into the saddle with practiced ease.

'Good ones.'

"Same here," Maour revealed. "While we're flying back I'll tell you about them, but only if you promise to keep them from the rest of the family until we've actually made them."

'Happy secrets can be kept,' Toothless said enthusiastically. 'Deal. Let's go!'

It was dawn again by the time Maour and Toothless actually entered the Svartur caverns; flying back from Mahelmetan took long enough as it was without the added time sink of making up for two months of lost time when it came to flying their hearts out.

With Maour's ankle sore from operating the pedal, and his stomach just barely settled, there was nothing between him and his family but a few steps and a-

"It's even worse in person," Maour said quietly, continuing forward despite the lingering smell that permeated the Svartur caverns. "Why is it worse in person? My nose isn't as good as yours."

'You haven't been breathing it for nights on end,' Toothless replied ruefully. 'I bet now is the first time you are smelling it for more than the time it takes to close out that sense."

"That'd be it, yeah." He decided to just breath through his mouth for the time being. Nothing was going to stop him from returning home, not even home smelling like a pungent mix of fish and what he might have called rotten milk if it didn't have a sulfurous stench mixed into it. He would just endure and hopefully grow numb to that.

'Maour!' Von crowed the moment they turned the first corner in the narrow passage leading deeper into the mountain, surging forward to lick him. He laughed and hugged her head, making sure to not accidentally breathe in through his nose as he did.

"Von. I missed you, sister."

'Not as much as we all missed you!' Von pulled back after only a brief moment, almost bouncing with anticipation. 'Toothless, can you-'

'Take over guarding here? You got it,' Toothless agreed, lying down in the passage behind Maour. 'See you later, brother. You'll want to sleep out here with me, anyway.'

"Definitely," Maour agreed, thinking of the stench he was trying to avoid even now. The fresh breeze against his back promised at least partial relief from that, which he supposed was one of the perks of being on guard duty.

'Come on, Mom is out flying but Dad is with them,' Von explained, heading toward the main cavern. 'You know what they look like, right? You've seen?'

"Once or twice. I wanted to wait and see them in person," Maour admitted. He felt like an imposter, watching them through Toothless's eyes, though he of course had not told his brother that.

'Well, you got back at a good time. They're spending less time making messes and more time looking around.' They turned a corner, and Von warbled softly. 'He's back, dad.'

'Welcome home,' Shadow said quietly, his wings extended low to either side of him, covering still surprisingly small lumps. 'They're just waking up,' he announced, slowly lifting both wings.

On either side of him, mostly grey hatchlings were stirring, their spindly tails and little ears twitching as they mewled, surprised by the withdrawal of cover.

The one on the right curled up into a tight little circle and clearly wanted to go back to sleep, but the one on the left opened his or her eyes, displaying a set of frosted green irises far lighter than any of the other Svarturs. Surprisingly wide and large black pupils slowly focused on Maour.

Maour moved slowly, remaining low to the ground and offering an arm for the hatchling to smell. He knew that he smelled like a Night Fury, regardless of what he looked like, and it seemed like a very good idea to let the hatchling in on that fact before it freaked out over his outward appearance… Though it didn't seem to mind him anyway.

The hatchling inhaled deeply, rubbing its nose along his armguard, and cheeped weakly. Then it crawled forward, bumping its nose on his knee.

That was all it took to wash Maour's irrational fears away; there was no fear, no distrust, no hesitation, not from…

"Which one is this?" Maour asked, petting the hatchling's grey-scaled neck and lumpy back. It trilled piercingly and did its best to lean in to the foreign sensation.

'That's the female,' Shadow replied. 'If a good name comes to mind, remember it. Once your mother gets back, we'll be deciding on names.'

"Right." Absolutely nothing was coming to mind on that front. She was so small and clumsy and adorable that he couldn't care less what she was called at the moment. He pulled her into his lap and began giving her a good scratching behind the ears, drawing out more high-pitched trills and warbles.

'See, absolutely no fear,' Shadow said softly. 'She would let you tickle the underside of her neck, or carry her around, or anything you wanted as long as she was not in an obstinate mood.' His voice was soft and kind, but the implications of what he was saying made Maour shudder.

'I don't remember being that trusting,' Von said quietly.

'It doesn't feel out of place or strange even in hindsight,' Shadow agreed. 'And you would not remember because I never did anything with you that would require total trust. Eating, sleeping, and growing does not.'

The little female hatchling was squirming under Maour's hands now, inching forward so that he was rubbing her lumpy back. He ran his fingers over the lumps, feeling what had to be wings forming below her grey scales and skin. "How long until these start showing?"

'The wings? They will break the skin any night now.'

Maour ran his fingers over the lumps again, and this time he noticed how tightly stretched the skin over them seemed to be, between the scales, several of which seemed loose. "Break?"

'The wings have to come out somehow,' Von supplied sagely. 'I remember that part. It itched so badly right before that I didn't even care about the pain.'

'Not for a few nights, though, so don't worry, you won't have wings bursting out if you scratch her back a little more,' Shadow supplied. 'It looks like she wants you to keep going.'

Maour only then noticed the restless hatchling rocking back and forth, rubbing her back on his motionless hand. He quickly corrected that, eliciting a triumphant squeal of delight.

'And you're never going to have problems keeping them entertained,' Von said confidently. 'I wish I could keep them that happy that easily.'

'Speaking of them, let's see how Maour does with both at once,' Shadow announced, turning on his stomach to usher the male hatchling, who had apparently been woken by his sister's noises, out in front of him. His eyes were a much darker green than his sister's, tinted with just the faintest hint of yellow, like new grass after Winter, and clearly focused on Maour.

Once again, even before smelling his Night Fury scent, the hatchling didn't seem to mind Maour's appearance, crawling right over with surprising speed and laboriously clambering up to lay across Maour's outstretched legs, right next to his sister.

Maour obligingly began scratching the male's back too, wondering how he had known what to do. Was he already so smart as to understand what was going on, or had he just heard his sister's loudly vocalized approval and decided to do whatever she did? Either seemed to be far more capable than a human baby of two months, but he wasn't exactly an expert on human children either, so he couldn't really be sure of anything.

'So, looks like Maour can start taking his turn watching them. Right?' Von sounded hopeful.

'We shall see,' Shadow replied cryptically. 'Certainly, he can help out. But I am not sure if he can keep them warm.'

Maour looked down at the hatchlings melting under his hands. They seemed warm enough, though the female was huddling next to her brother now, and shivering-

"Uh oh," Maour said worriedly. She hadn't been shivering a few seconds ago, but now it was pronounced enough that it was shaking her younger brother, who sqawked indignantly. "That doesn't seem like a good sign."

"Try holding her closer,' Shadow offered. 'She is too cold, you're right, but we should see whether you are warm enough to correct that.'

Maour obligingly gathered the now quaking female in his arms and hugged her close to his chest, but as he did he only became more worried and confused. She felt warmer than he was, but she was somehow too cold, and if she was warming him, then by extension he definitely wasn't doing her any good.

Sure enough, the shivering only got worse, and she began to whine pitifully and squirm with renewed purpose, trying to get out of his arms and find heat of any kind. At that point, Maour was more than convinced that he just wasn't hot enough. "Here, take them back," he said urgently. "It's not helping."

Shadow rose, took the single step needed to bring him to Maour, and carefully picked his daughter up with his toothless gums. She fell limp the moment he did, not resisting in the slightest. In moments, both hatchlings were arranged right next to Shadow's side, covered by a wing and huddled together.

'Some things simply cannot be done by some of us,' Shadow said diplomatically. 'Just as we cannot so easily delight them with nimble fingers, you cannot warm them like they need. Do not feel bad about it, you can contribute in other ways.'

"Yeah, I get that," Maour agreed, not feeling too depressed. He had expected as much, knowing just how warm Toothless or any Night Fury was as a general rule, so it wasn't a surprise. He was working on the problem, or would be soon.

'Maour!' Cloey burst around the corner leading toward the center of the mountain, her eyes locking onto him immediately. 'I thought I heard your voice.'

"No, that was Von doing her best impression," Maour joked, meeting her halfway and embracing her.

'I could try and mimic you,' Von mused, her voice cutting in from the side. 'It'd be hard to go that high-pitched, though.'

"I'm offended." Maour smiled widely at Von, Cloey, and everyone else. "So, I hear we're going to decide on names now?"

'Soon,' Cloey promised. 'First I want to catch up with my older son.'

'So do I,' Shadow agreed. 'Von, go call Kappi in. We can sit with our backs to the exits in here, and that should be good.'

'I am not sleeping here,' Eldurfjall announced flatly. 'Tell him that.'

"Eldurfjall objects," Heather said coldly, not bothering to be all that diplomatic. "He is neither a beast of burden nor an animal to be caged. This is not acceptable."

'It's a dragon,' Chief Rotison said stubbornly. 'We keep dragons in the storage caves. We're not gonna actually do anythin' to it.'

Heather put her hand on the rusty iron bars separating her and Eldurfjall from the dingy, stained little hole cut out of the side of the natural cliff. The sea air probably contributed to the rust, but she could only blame the rest on poor maintenance. Thankfully, there were no dragons languishing in the other, similar cells dotting the face of the cliff, or they would have a real problem. "Not acceptable," she repeated.

"Come on, how thick can you be?" Camicazi asked dismissively, seemingly far more occupied by leaning over the rickety railing behind them to stare at the rocks and surf below. "You don't stick allied leaders in cages no matter what they look like to you. If I claimed that a rock with a face painted on it was my ambassador, you wouldn't throw it into the ocean and consider that good diplomacy."

"It's a dragon," Rotison objected. "And why are you here?"

"Just making sure my friends from the Isle of Night don't feel lonely," Camicazi retorted. "Look, you put the other Chiefs in nice huts right in town. This place feels like nobody has used it in a decade anyway. You're either acting stupid or trying to make a statement, and one of those is a very dangerous thing to do right after signing a treaty."

Rotison scowled at her and palmed the hilt of his sword. "We used these cages just last week, girl. And I'm not keepin' a Night Fury in my village."

"Then just flat-out say you won't offer him hospitality," Heather replied angrily. "And explain to me where you want to lodge me, and why that will not suffice for him too. I seem to recall seeing his signature on that parchment." Eldurfjall had signed with a claw dipped in ink, something he apparently had practiced with Fishlegs, and it was a more legible signature than half of the human ones on the treaty.

"Ye can stay wit' one o' your own allies for all I care, girl," Rotison exclaimed. "You know where to go. I'll not be held responsible for what my people do if they find yer Night Fury lazin' about in the streets. That's all I got to say on the matter." He stomped off, heading up the sturdy plank ramp leading back toward the top of the cliff, leaving Heather, Eldurfjall, and Camicazi alone.

"He's an idiot," Camicazi remarked, shrugging her shoulders. "You can stay with us, in the hut he let us borrow or on the ship."

'I will sleep somewhere out of reach of all,' Eldurfjall asserted, glaring at the empty cell Rotison had offered him. 'Sleeping in the street. As if I'd be foolish enough to do that."

"I care more about something he said," Heather admitted. "He talked about using these cells just a week ago. If there are dragons here…"

Camicazi grinned maliciously. "These cells are pretty well hidden, if Maour didn't know about them. They blend right in with the cliff. Nobody seems to come down here, or if they do, it's just to store stuff. So, nobody would notice if a certain burglar snuck down every night and loosened the hinges to every single cell door. It's not like most trade goods can break loose."

"They'd know someone did it," Heather objected. "Suspicion would fall on me."

"Let it," was Camicazi's solution. "They can't touch you. The treaty didn't cover releasing innocent prisoners, if there are even any here, and we'll be holding any Berserkers we capture out on the ships. If Rotison accuses you of anything, you can just pretend that you didn't do anything, and that you thought they didn't keep any dragons there anyway. I bet you could pull that off."

"Yes, I could." Heather looked over the cliffside, or at least what she could see from where she stood, but she saw no signs of current prisoners. "There might not be anyone here. And if there is a dragon, they might attack you when you free them."

"So send this big guy along with me," Camicazi suggested, patting Eldurfjall's wing. He pulled it back and stared curiously at her. "He seems like he'd be a good getaway route."

'I can do that,' Eldurfjall agreed.

"I'll send both him and Einfari," Heather suggested, not wanting Eldurfjall to be alone with Camicazi. Eldurs, as a rule, seemed just a little naïve and far too curious about everything. She wanted a cynical dragon along with them, just in case. Other than that, it seemed like a good plan.

"Cool. Come on, let's go see the rest of this crummy rock. This place is boring."

'I do want to learn more about this place,' Eldurfjall added. 'Even if they are rude.'

"Get used to that," Heather advised. "We're not really here to make friends." Mahelmetan was a base and staging island, nothing more. She would be sure they didn't turn the native Vikings against them or treat them badly, but other than that, the island didn't really matter.

'We will see their wings any day now,' Cloey remarked, idly rubbing one of her paws across her youngest son's back, eliciting the occasional grumbling squeak of contentment. 'So this is the time we should give them names.' She was sitting with her tail to the far wall, facing the rest of them.

Shadow, who was laying on his side in front of the passage leading outside, nodded awkwardly. 'Yes. And you all know we want this to be a family decision.'

'That's going to be kind of weird,' Von admitted. 'I mean, for them. Having their names be chosen by their brothers and sister as well as their parents?' She shrugged her wings and repositioned herself, lying on her stomach in the opening that led further into the mountain.

'As long as we make the names good, they won't mind,' Toothless said knowingly. 'Maour didn't.' He nudged Maour, who was sitting against his side, one hand on the female hatchling and the other on the ground. She seemed to be asleep, or so close to it as to make no difference.

"As long as they're good," Maour agreed. His mind was half on one of his planned creations, and the amount of heat Toothless was putting out. Now that he had reason to notice it, he was realizing just how hot his brother's underbelly was. It wasn't enough to burn or even overheat him, but it was strong enough to make him wonder if he might need to make some adjustments to his plans.

'How do we name them?' Von asked curiously. 'Do we just throw out words until something sticks? They don't exactly have much personality yet. Both of them eat, sleep, and soil themselves, and love Maour's scratches. That isn't much to go on.'

'It varies.' Shadow warbled contently, sounding as if there was nowhere he would rather be. 'Sometimes, they do do something distinctive. Or sometimes it is after the circumstances surrounding their hatching.'

'Like Myrkursprenging and Myrkursprengja, both hatched during thunderstorms. Blast and Boom.' Toothless nodded in understanding. 'So… Dual and Duo? Because they came together, two of a kind at once?'

'That's not bad,' Cloey praised. 'But I don't know if we should name them like two parts of a whole. What if they end up wanting to go their own ways in life? It would be a burden to have a name that means one is not complete without the other.'

'I didn't think of that,' Toothless admitted, sounding impressed.

'It is still a good option,' Shadow reassured him. 'I think that would sound good, too.'

"There's another thing," Maour added. "Are we giving them Fury names, like mine being Svarturflugmaður? Because I don't know what Dual and Duo would sound like in that sort of naming scheme." He had never really looked into the seemingly separate language the Furies only used for names; Fishlegs could probably tell him more, but it so rarely affected his day-to-day life that it had avoided notice.

'Most names sound good in the end,' Cloey answered. 'Generally, we come up with the meaning first, like Kappi did with his suggestion, and then if we pick that one, we translate it.'

'And we have not picked that yet,' Von said quickly. 'How about Frost and Spring? You know, for their eyes.'

'Frost for the female with white streaks, and Spring for the male with yellow streaks?' Shadow purred appreciatively. 'That could work. It is distinctive that neither is some shade of pure green. Pure chance, but that makes them unique in appearance, at least among us.'

'But being named for their eyes when their siblings have names like hope, warrior, and flyer?' Toothless countered. 'That kind of feels like saying their looks are all they have.'

Maour nodded in agreement. They might be overthinking a simple choice, but he knew from experience that names were not something to be taken lightly. A bad name was not fun to live with, and he didn't want to be responsible for giving anyone a degrading or stupid name… Unintentionally, anyway.

'So we should name them for occupations, things they do or will do? That will be hard to do accurately, unless one of us can see the future,' Shadow joked.

"Well, I mean, we can guess," Maour replied seriously. "They'll be Svarturs, and they'll be living in this pack. They'll grow up in a happy family, raised to be good people who do what is right, and in this day and age, that means…" He trailed, unsure of what to say and hoping somebody else would finish the line of thought.

Then Von surprised him by continuing without even a pause. 'They'll be protectors, guardians of the pack. We're going to fight to protect them soon, and they'll probably have to fight to protect all of us at some point. The world is a dangerous place.'

'Of course, everyone protects the pack,' Shadow mused. 'Protector and Guardian?'

'I like that,' Cloey said firmly. 'Hope, Warrior, Flyer, Protector, and Guardian. They fit the theme.'

"All powerful, ambitious names," Maour added. "Even mine, because what's more ambitious than calling a human 'Flyer?' I think that's perfect."

'And they are not violent names, either,' Cloey mused. 'Not like calling one of them 'Rage'. I still do not know what Skarpur was thinking with that one.'

'Nóttreiði,' Toothless helpfully supplied in a low hum. 'That's what his name means. Night Rage.'

"That's unfortunate." Maour wondered whether Skarpur and Togi regretted giving him that name now, after his anger had so negatively impacted his life.

'It sounds like we all prefer Protector and Guardian,' Shadow announced. 'Do we want to keep tossing out ideas, or is that one the best we can do?'

'Let's all just call out every good possibility we can think of for a little while,' Von suggested. 'If none of them are good enough, then we can stick with these.'

'Okay,' Toothless rumbled. 'Maour, pin her ears down, would you? I don't want to wake her.'

Maour did his best to hold down their little sister's ears without pressing too hard on her head. He wasn't sure how effective that would be, given everyone present spoke mentally, but he did it anyway; his own voice was both mental and audible, and everyone else tended to bark or growl to emphasize their words, so it would at least help.

'Rough and Tumble,' Toothless began. 'Wait, no, Rough sounds too much like Ruffnut.'

'Rock and Roll,' Von suggested. 'They like to roll around on rocks sometimes.'

'Rock is Eldurberg's name,' Shadow said with a laughing warble. 'We're not copying the Eldurs. What about Stench and Fumes?'

'Take this seriously, Skuggi,' Cloey laughed. 'Beauty and Brains- No, wait, that's Myrkurheili.'

"Ebony and Obsidian," Maour suggested, giving his only alternative. Both were extremely generic as names for Night Furies went, referencing nothing but the color the entire species shared, but at least neither were taken as far as he knew.

'Those aren't half bad,' Toothless rumbled. 'Thing One and Thing Two.'

'Over my dead body,' Cloey retorted. 'No child of mine will have such a silly name.'

'Just trying to make Maour's look even better by contrast,' Toothless explained, grinning toothlessly at his mother.

"My suggestions or the name I had when I met you?" Maour asked skeptically.

'Either works. What's the worst name you could come up with?' Toothless asked curiously.

"It'd have to be insulting, demeaning, and overall unfit for anyone to walk around with…" Maour mused. "Probably some cruel play on words, something so mean-spirited that it's clearly not meant as a joke, like 'Nuffink' or 'Wort Les.'"

'Come on, you two,' Von complained. 'Nobody in their right mind would call a hatchling any of those. Are we really that out of ideas?'

"Hey, he was asking for my worst suggestions," Maour said defensively. "But yes, I have nothing else in the way of serious suggestions."

'Neither do I,' Cloey admitted. 'And it looks like both of them are asleep now, so keep your voices down.' She nodded at the now slumbering hatchling between her paws.

"They do sleep a lot," Maour observed. "So, it sounds like Guardian and Protector are our best options. Which goes to which hatchling, and what do they sound like in your language?"

'To answer your last question first, I think Protector would be Verndari,' Shadow said tentatively.

'Yes, so Svarturverndari for the full name,' Cloey purred. 'I like the sound of that. Of course, it's long, but that's what short names are for. The other would be Svarturforráðamaður, which is even longer.'

'Svarturforráðamaður,' Toothless repeated slowly. 'And Svarturverndari. Well, as long as we can use good, short names for them, I like those too.'

'Oh, that's easy,' Von purred. 'Verndari can just be Vern, and the other can be Fora. Fora and Vern.'

"Fora sounds more like a girl's name, so I guess we know which goes to which," Maour suggested, looking down at the female under his hand. "Fora. Svarturforráðamaður."

'Which makes you,' Cloey said happily, looking down at the male hatchling, 'Svarturverndari, or Vern for short once you know your full name.'

'Yes, everyone be sure to only use their long names until they respond to them,' Shadow warned. 'Then you can start with the short names. It's just the principle of the thing, not vitally important, but I'd like it if you tried to do it that way.'

"No problem." Maour wouldn't mind even that; he was more than happy to say long, complicated names for as long as needed. His new siblings had good names. That was all that mattered.

"…So Camicazi handled it," Heather concluded, glad to be done with her report. For a mostly boring week, there were certainly a lot of little details to go over once it came time to telling the pack about it all.

"Did she find any dragons?" Fishlegs asked worriedly. "And where would they go? There aren't any good, uninhabited islands nearby." He was technically speaking to Einfari, given she was the one sitting on the spire in the middle of the vertical cavern on the Isle of Night, but only because Heather and Eldurfjall couldn't be spared for the time it would take to fly to the Isle and back to give their weekly report.

"No dragons," Heather answered, hearing her words repeated by Einfari moments later. "They really only use those cells for storage on occasion, even if they were obviously made to hold dragons."

"Still," Maour said seriously, "I'm embarrassed I didn't know about them, and they worry me. I'd rather Mahelmetan not have anywhere to keep a dragon locked up."

'Actually,' Skarpur called out, 'it is safer if they do. That way, if they turn on one of us, it's less likely they'll kill immediately. If they know they can't keep us captive, they won't hesitate to kill.'

'A good point,' Einfari purred. 'Any other questions for Heather or Eldurfjall?'

"Yeah," Tuffnut called out. "What's the body count? How many Berserker ships have you guys taken down? Don't be greedy, leave some for us."

"Two," Heather replied, giving a serious answer even though the question was delivered in the twins' usual brand of irreverence. "Small vessels. We're going to draw attention soon, though. This is a major trading hub, after all. They're going to notice when nobody comes back."

That was her biggest concern. Rotison and his people were minor annoyances too cowed by the overwhelming force and strangeness to make much trouble yet, and things looked fine on the purely logistical front; Mahelmetan was more than capable of supplying the combined fleet as long as the traders continued to arrive on time. The Berserkers were the imminent threat, not angry mobs or impending starvation.

'Eldurfjall,' Skarpur called out. 'Do you want us to send a replacement, or are you willing to stay another week?'

Once Heather had relayed the question, Eldurfjall nodded decisively. 'Send a replacement. This is interesting, but I miss my family and hatchling. Send someone who does not have a new child to care for to replace me. It is inefficient to swap out dragons every week.'

'Got it. We'll let you know who's coming once we decide,' Skarpur replied. 'Keep up the good work, Heather. We can't exactly send a replacement for you right now.'

"I don't want you to," Heather agreed, knowing that the only halfway-decent option was Maour, who had other responsibilities. "No worries there." She was doing important work out here. The war was already ramping up, and Mahelmetan needed at least one Nótt to keep an eye on it.

Author's Note: Hey, a more normal chapter length this time! I've realized that one contributing factor to the slowdown of this story might be that my average chapter length has doubled since I wrote the first draft; in rewriting, it takes longer simply because there are more words per chapter. It's certainly not the main factor, but still. In any case, this length is close to what I want the normal for this story to be. 10,000+ word chapters are best used sparingly.

On another note, There's a little reference to another, far more famous story in this fandom somewhere in this chapter, and that reference was in itself a reference in the original story. I'm just adding a layer of inception. Can anyone find it?

Also, I didn't know until typing the final draft of this out that Word apparently autocorrects 'Fora' to 'For a'. That was mildly inconvenient… But still less inconvenient than typing her full name out. These two got their short names right off the bat for a very good reason, and that reason was convenience.