Author's note: There are going to be a lot of these. So many, in fact, that this massive chapter you see here is only the first of five comparably-sized entries, and keep in mind that these aren't all the scenes I elected to rewrite or remove entirely, just the ones I thought showed enough merit that they were worth displaying.

As a disclaimer, I should mention that these chapters may vary in quality, a few having been written within the last few months, but most being just under two years old. I didn't want to spend an immense amount of time prettying them up to match my current standards when the whole point of this is to show all of the various failings that made them easier to ignore or rewrite than edit. So, some of these might be a bit rough.

In terms of organization, the chapter numbers listed are approximate; some relate to the original draft, and some to the final draft. There's so much crap going on in the differences in numbering and where plot beats happen that organizing it all totally chronologically would be a pain, so it's only mostly chronological.

Also, because there are so many of these, there'll be a little mini table of contents at the start of each:

No Threat Here (Chapter 4)

A History (Chapter 5)

Making Sure Everyone Understands the Plan (Chapter 8?)

A Dangerous Lookalike (Chapter 11)

Thrashing Trees (Chapter 11-ish)

Blame the Twins for That (Chapter 14)

Explaining the Situation (Chapter 16)

Change of Heart (Chapter 20)

A few minutes later, Nóttskarpur checked in on her two daughters and the human. She saw the scene and laughed quietly. All three of the occupants of that cavern were asleep.

Nóttleiðtogi watched for a while. He turned to her. 'So, now what? We accepted the human for Einfari's sake. Because she seemed so sure, and we didn't know what would happen if the human wasn't accepted after they had already linked.'

Nóttskarpur purred softly and wound her tail around Nóttleiðtogi's. 'Maybe you did. But I truly intend to give her a chance. This just makes me confident she deserves that chance.'

Nóttleiðtogi chuckled quietly. 'Is this about what Svarturkló said earlier?' He hadn't heard their private conversation, but he had a pretty good idea what it had been about.

'She simply pointed out that she knew literally nothing about Maour when she met him, and that he had already linked with her son, without her knowing. The parallels are interesting, are they not?' Nóttskarpur purred. 'Please, if only for me and Einfari, don't let the past blind you. I know you have good reason to hate, but that isn't fair to Heather.'

Nóttleiðtogi growled softly. 'You are right. But I'm not the one who can't let go. Our son will have a hard time even tolerating her, let alone getting to know her. He holds on to past injustices for far too long. Even ones not his own. He might hate humans more than I do, and he is basing that off of what happened to you and me so many years ago. Maour was the first human he's ever even seen up close, and he still tries to stay away from the riders as much as possible. That won't work with Heather.'

Nóttskarpur wasn't worried about that. 'But he can't say no to our littlest one, and she likes Heather. In time, he'll be forced to let go.'

Nóttleiðtogi rumbled uneasily. 'That is true. But he should have his own voice of reason, not rely on another dragon to stop him. He won't be able to function away from her, because he won't ever be able to stop being angry about anything.'

Nóttskarpur whined softly. 'And he knows that. Adult Furies have gone on searches for other families, at one time or another. He never leaves the island. I think deep inside, he knows he can't control himself, and he isn't willing to risk it. Not without a very good reason.'

Reason for Removal: Seriously? Togi says he's okay with this, and that's that? Yeah, no way. This scene got the ax and rewrite almost immediately once I came back to this story from LV.

A History (Chapter 5)

Heather liked Nóttskarpur, who apparently was as easy-going as her youngest daughter was, under the stern exterior presented to outsiders. Nóttleiðtogi was far more difficult, and for the first few days, he seemed to flinch whenever he saw her unexpectedly. But that faded quickly enough, as he seemed to be making a concentrated effort to correct himself. Eventually, she carefully approached the subject. Einfari was playing tag with her little sister in the forest, and Heather was watching. Nóttleiðtogi had been sitting nearby.

Heather spoke first. "Nóttleiðtogi, sir?" She wasn't sure just how informal he would let her be, so she had been erring on the cautious side.

Nóttleiðtogi winced. 'Please don't call me sir. Togi is fine.' Heather didn't know it, but that was something of a big deal. Togi didn't let anyone but family or close friends refer to him as such. But he really couldn't stand being called 'sir' by Heather. Especially because every time Nóttskarpur heard it, she sent Togi a very disapproving look.

Heather blinked. "Togi. Okay. Well, I was just wondering something. Please stop me if this is too personal, but... what happened that makes you flinch every time you see me? I can tell you're trying to stop, and I really appreciate the effort, but I was wondering why." She really hoped he wouldn't take offense at the personal question.

Togi drooped slightly, quite unusual for him. He generally didn't display his emotions as obviously as most Furies did. 'No, it is a fair question.' He glanced over at his daughters, who were out of earshot at the moment. 'Please don't relay any of this to Nótthljóður, she's too young to understand fully. Many years ago, this pack did not exist. There were quite a few Night Furies, and they lived separately. One family here, one there, and so on. This was much further south. I, my brother, and our mother and father lived alone. One day, long ago, a human vessel landed on our small island. We thought nothing of it and made sure to stay away, assuming they would leave. This was about thirty years ago, give or take. My brother was sixteen, and I was twenty. When they didn't leave, but instead set up camp, my brother went in for a closer look. When he didn't come back, we three remaining Furies attacked to save him, or avenge him if he was dead.'

Togi growled at that. 'We were fools. They took us out of the sky with a single arrow each. They were using some sort of poison, one which makes it impossible to even move at high concentrations. They hit my father while he was so high up he broke a wing when he hit the ground, unable to correct himself. Apparently, this particular poison is eventually fatal if one does not receive an antidote. These dragon trappers knew that all too well. So, while they tied me and my mother up, put us with my brother, and gave us the antidote... they just left my father there. A dragon with a broken wing was no use to them. We were forced to listen and watch as he slowly died, the poison eventually reaching his lungs and suffocating him.'

Heather was horrified. But Togi wasn't even close to done.

'They didn't even leave his body there. They took that too, and the only mercy any of us received was that we never saw what they did to it. But we saw the dragon-skin cloaks the dragon trappers sold at their next stop, along with us. Night Fury cloaks. But we were too valuable to just kill. Some Viking bought all three of us, for various purposes. My brother was put into a dragon fighting arena, where he was forced to fight other dragons. He was young and inexperienced in combat, and they eventually put him against a captured Skrill. He died in seconds. My mother had it worse.' Here Togi visibly huddled inwards, reliving the memory.

Heather moved closer. She didn't care that Togi was so aloof usually, this was different. She put a hand on his wing, and didn't move as he flinched, and turned to look at her. "You don't have to keep going. I think I've heard enough."

Togi didn't shake her hand off, but he did shake his head in refusal. 'No, you should hear the rest. This is also the story of how this pack came to be, as the two are intertwined. My part is simply the saddest of the various backstories of the nine founders of this pack.' He braced himself. 'My mother was in a cage across from me. The man in charge had a few ideas of something he might be able to do with each of us. So while he wasted my brother's life in forced combat, he had other plans for us. For my mother, he had the plan of trying to crossbreed Night Furies with other dragons. He didn't seem to know that that just doesn't work. Dragon species are too different. But that didn't stop him from trying with various other types.'

Heather shuddered. That was horrific. She really didn't want Togi to continue talking, but she felt she needed to hear it anyway. "And you?"

Togi sighed. 'He sold me off. Later, I learned from other dragons that my mother, thinking I had been killed like my brother, convinced one of the dragons they put in her cage to kill her, rather than let her suffer there.'

Heather winced. That was even worse. Although, she understood the reasoning behind it.

Togi continued his voice low. 'The one I was sold to was trying to build a dragon army. He was young, insane, and missing an arm. And he was wearing a Night Fury cloak, one I'm fairly sure he got from the trappers. I recognized the pattern of scales.' Here Togi stopped briefly, before continuing. 'He had decided on Night Furies as his dragon of choice, and as such was the one who had hired those same trappers to catch him as many as possible. Buying me pushed his total number of Night Fury captives to eleven. Nóttskarpur, then known as just Skarpur, was one of them. As was every other parent of this pack, along with Myrkureyðileggingu. Out of all of us, only Myrkureyðileggingu and his daughter Myrkurhryðjuverk knew each other. We were all Furies who had been captured, though I was unique in that my entire family was taken, as opposed to a lone Fury being picked off. This madman tried to subjugate us, but none of us would bend, except for one. That one had been there far longer than the rest of us and never spoke. We didn't know what was wrong with him until the madman demonstrated. That one nameless Fury had been completely broken, and obeyed his every command.'

Togi took a deep breath. 'Don't worry, the story gets less depressing from here on out.'

Heather laughed shakily. "I hope so. I don't think it could get much worse."

'The madman had made a mistake. In the hopes of acquiring more Night Furies, he locked us all in the same cage. We mingled, got to know each other... even fell in love, at least a few of us. But none of us was ever going to even think of anything more while in that horrible place. We were in the same cage as the nameless Fury, of course. Most of us couldn't even get him to respond, much less actually speak. He was far older than any of us, and riddled with scars. But there was one female Fury he seemed to like, despite him never speaking. She spent weeks talking to him, trying to snap him out of whatever pit of despair he had sunken into. Eventually, she got him to speak, to respond. He didn't even remember his own name, he had been there so long. Once she got him to respond, he realized what he had done, all that time under the control of a madman.'

Heather was interested now. "What did he do?"

Togi smiled. 'Something I've never seen any other Fury do. He raged, long and hard at first. But eventually, he calmed down. And when the madman had left for the night, he did... something. None of us know what he did, or how. His spines began glowing blue, and soon his entire body, from behind his scales. It looked like he was burning from within, with our blue fire. He fired a single plasma blast, and it destroyed the so-called dragon-proof bars all of us together couldn't break. Then he told us all to leave, to escape, to survive. We all went, fleeing as fast as we could. Except for the Fury he liked, the one that had saved him. She stayed. And together, they laid waste to the madman's entire island. We could hear it as we fled, the massive destruction of his blasts, and the weaker but still audible blasts of hers. We turned back after a while, and circled back around, from above. We called to them, begging them to escape with us while they could. There were so many humans there, and while the unnamed Fury didn't seem to have a shot limit in that state, he couldn't defend from all angles at once. But he wouldn't leave. As we watched, we saw why. He couldn't fly. His wings were so atrophied from years of living in a cage and never being used, they couldn't even support his weight in the air. And the female Fury wouldn't leave him. We watched as they fought, back to back. By the time they were done, the madman's entire island was destroyed. His entire human army, gone. But the madman wasn't dead. He eventually realized what was going on, and faced his former slave. His cloak of Fury scales made plasma blasts useless, and he had brought reinforcements from the portion of his army that he had had with him when the two Furies laid waste to his island. We nine watching flew down to intervene. But the nameless Fury saw us coming and ordered us to leave. This wasn't some simple command. We literally couldn't disobey, no matter how much we wanted to. As we flew away, against our own wills, we heard the death cries of both Furies. Only then we could disobey if we wanted to. But there was no reason to go back.'

Togi growled angrily. 'I only hope they took that madman with them. We were traumatized by our time under Drago, but we wanted to honor the last words of that Fury, and staying together seemed safer anyway. Plus, some of us had formed attachments, and most of us had no idea where our homes were, having been taken from far and wide. So, we flew far to the North and West, away from that madman, and eventually settled on an island. There we made our commitments to each other official, and by the end of that, there were four pairs, and old Myrkureyðileggingu, who had lost his mate before being caught by the trappers and had no desire to find someone else. His only daughter was one of us, so he stayed. We developed a policy of utmost secrecy and moved islands at any human activity whatsoever. We began raising families. By some quirk of luck, each pair of Fury parents happened to have the same general eye color, so that trait has been passed down to all of our children. A few years after that, Myrkurheili found our pack by pure chance and decided to stay. And then, twenty years ago now, Svarturkló disappeared. I think you know the rest.'

Heather looked at Togi, who was still very sad looking. She impulsively reached up and hugged him, being forced to stand on her toes to reach his neck in his seated position.

Togi didn't flinch at all. He simply looked down in bemusement. 'What is this?' He pawed at Heather, pushing her slightly. He sounded amused.

Heather laughed. "It's a thank you. Thank you for even trying to trust me, after the Hel your entire family went through. I don't know how you can even stand the sight of humans after that, even if we aren't all bad."

Togi eyed her. 'I try not to judge one person by the actions of another, and Maour did quite a bit to help me break any lingering prejudices.' He laughed slightly. 'And I seem to have gotten over my flinch reflex. Which is lucky for you. That thing you just did might have gotten you hurt otherwise.'

Heather had dropped back to the ground. She smiled at Togi. "Do you want me to not do that in the future?"

Togi laughed and sat down on all fours. 'Maybe don't leap at me. But I don't mind the rest.' He looked over Heather's shoulder. 'I don't mind you being here. But I'm not the one you need to win over.'

Heather didn't look to see what Togi was staring at. "I wasn't trying to win you over. I just thought I should ask."

Togi rumbled slightly. 'I know.' He pointed at something behind her. 'But you might have to try with him.'

Heather looked over her shoulder. In the distance, she could see Nóttskarpur talking to Nóttreiði. Nóttreiði was glaring at her, ignoring Nóttskarpur. "Believe me, I am trying. He doesn't even talk to me, he just glares, growls, and leaves." Which was true, though it had only been a few days since she could hear all dragons, and therefore actually started trying to talk to Nóttreiði without Einfari acting as a translator.

Reason for Removal: Again, this was the first draft. I realized, when amping up Togi's issues in Living Vicariously, that his backstory wasn't actually bad enough to justify them. Sure, this is horrible, but it's not personal enough. He lost family, but that shouldn't translate to such an ingrained fear of humans, it should point more toward just hate and resentment. I needed to give him a more personal reason to fear, his own personal human demon. That was the second draft. Then I decided to put it in a more interesting format than 'person telling story', which is what ended up being the final version.

Also, you may notice I swapped the genders of the broken Fury in the final version. That had to happen to accommodate why Drago would be wanting Togi and Togi alone broken. To be honest, I wasn't that attached to the first version of the story, so I didn't mind changing such integral details.

Making Sure Everyone Understands the Plan (Chapter 8?)

Afterward, they spoke to Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, and their bonds Berg, Boom, and Blast. Of course, the twins had been the hardest to find, so that particular conversation took place right where Toothless and Berg eventually found them. On top of the mountain.

"Why are you guys even up here?" Fishlegs hadn't gotten off of Berg. Who, as a side effect of carrying Fishlegs around, was now quite beefy compared to the other Furies. He was a bit slower, but he could probably lift more than any three Furies combined now. His wing muscles, in particular, looked almost oversized, something both he and Fishlegs were proud of.

"Well, why not? It's cool, flat, and has the best view of the entire island!" Ruffnut was crouching at the edge, next to Boom. Dragon and rider looked eerily similar now. Ruffnut had, after an incident involving her braids on fire, adopted something of an... interesting hairstyle. She had two shoulder-length braids on the edge of the back of her head, and two nub-sized braids in between. Like a Night Fury's ears and face nubs. It looked strange, but she liked it and insisted it helped her think like Boom. She had kept it the natural blond instead of dying it black though, to keep her similarity with her brother. She always carried around a spear now, dyed black with ash rubbed into it repeatedly. She tapped the spear idly on the rock. "What say you, Myrkurs and Thorstons?"

Boom and Blast answered in unison. 'Needs more explosions.' They seemed totally focused on whatever they and the twins had been planning.

Tuffnut disagreed. "No, it needs more fire. Explosions would be too distracting from the spectacle." He hadn't really changed much, except that he had at some point acquired a strangely shiny mace, which he had affectionately dubbed 'Macey' and never let out of his sight. He had also acquired two of the spyglasses Maour had traded to Johann in the past, and tied them together. He hadn't come up with a name for this new contraption, but he insisted it was twice as good as a spyglass.

Toothless had less patience than Maour at the moment, so he asked the obvious question in an attempt to speed the encounter along. 'Do you all know what you need to be doing while we're gone?'

Tuffnut nodded absent-mindedly. 'Patrol island, protect island, keep island secret, yadda yadda yadda. Geez, T, we've lived here for like five years. Don't you think we know by now?"

Ruffnut kicked him. "He means the extra stuff. Make sure our mom and Fish's parents are okay on Mahelmetan, keep an ear out for anything about Berk or the Berserkers, and make sure we do extra-far range patrols to make up for them not being here."

Boom looked at Maour. 'We'll make sure they remember.' While the twins' dragons could be as careless as they could be, protecting their home was the top priority for all of them. Maour was sure they wouldn't forget. That serious side Ruffnut and Tuffnut seemed to have developed had stuck around and showed itself every once in a while. Now was not one of those times, but it reassured Maour to know it still existed on occasion. Fishlegs, on the other hand, was always careful.

"Good luck with Dagur." Fishlegs seemed relieved to not be going on this particular trip. He had had bad experiences with the Berserker in question in the past and understandably seemed to have no desire for a reunion. Ruffnut and Tuffnut, upon being informed that they were totally sane a while ago, now disliked Dagur for 'insanity coming naturally'. They seemed annoyed he didn't have to work for his unhinged plans, instead just using his insanity. Maour didn't feel like questioning that logic.

'Good. We'll see you all in a few months.' Maour knew very well it would be a while. The trip to Berserker island was a bit over two weeks, and they needed to go to Berk afterward. All in all, for him and Toothless it would be at least a month and a half, probably more like two. Not that he minded.

"Try not to blow up the island." With that, Maour and Toothless left the twins and Myrkurs to their plotting. He wasn't worried, because under the Myrkurs' influence Ruffnut and Tuffnut had become far less likely to actually destroy things, instead focusing on shock and awe as a component to their pranks. It was an improvement on many levels.

Reason for Removal: We got a more subtle recap on how the Twins and Fishlegs have diverged from canon by this point in time back in an earlier chapter, and this felt redundant, especially given they don't come into play at all for a while. This is another case of 'this still happened, just offscreen'.

A Dangerous Lookalike (Chapter 11)

Things stayed tense for most of the rest of the trip. Maour had on previous journeys determined a set of uninhabited islands as stopover points, so they met no humans and almost no dragons on the entire journey. Ever since the Queen's defeat, the dragons of the archipelago had scattered, living in isolation as was natural. It almost made the archipelago feel abandoned. Dragons, once a common if dangerous sight the closer one got to the Nest, were now reclusive and mostly solitary creatures.

The only dragon they encountered was on the island they had landed on to rest near the end of the fourth night. Minutes after they landed, a small purple Deadly Nadder approached cautiously. Toothless spoke first, rumbling reassuringly. 'We are only here to rest for the day. We mean no harm.' As he said this, he slowly moved in between the Nadder and Maour, making sure the Nadder couldn't do anything underhanded.

The Nadder was not at all appeased by that. 'Leave now.' It raised its spines menacingly, brandishing its tail. 'Or I'll make you leave myself.'

Maour stared at the hostile dragon. Something was off here. Some dragons might be jerks, and most of them were territorial, but no Nadder would consider themself the equal of three Night Furies in a fight. But this one did, apparently. At least enough to threaten them.

Nóttreiði, of course, decided to take offense at that. 'Or maybe I'll make you leave, instead!' He continued the threat by snarling wordlessly, pacing forward towards the Nadder.

The Nadder jumped back, flaring its wings. It brandished its tail again, almost mockingly. 'You might try. But you wouldn't survive the attempt.'

Now Maour was sure something was seriously wrong here. He examined the Nadder closer. The dragon seemed normal, but its tail spikes were... dripping? Yes, they were. The tail spikes, a fluorescent green in contrast to the purple Nadder, were occasionally dripping something. They almost looked hollow-

And that was when he figured it out. "Nóttreiði, stop! It's poisonous!" He didn't know what kind of dragon this was, but it was not a Nadder. A close relative, maybe. Now that he looked, he saw small differences. A slightly different wing structure, a more elongated beak. They were subtle, but they were there.

The Nadder-like dragon laughed, seemingly unconcerned by all of this. 'Still want to fight?' It took a step towards Nóttreiði. 'Get off my island.' It armed its tail, spikes now ready to throw in an instant.

Einfari, seeing Nóttreiði not move, screamed at him. 'Nóttreiði, stop!' She didn't want her stubborn brother to risk his life for no reason, against a dragon with an unknown poison at its disposal.

Nóttreiði seemed conflicted. His obvious desire to fight was clashing with something. Maybe self-preservation, or maybe his focus on protecting Einfari. Whatever it was, he clearly wasn't quite ready to back down. His anger was driving him on.

Toothless wasn't having that. He had been informed by Nóttskarpur that Nóttreiði had promised to follow his orders on this journey, as a condition for coming. He hadn't intended to use that, but he also wasn't going to let Nóttreiði get himself and maybe others killed. 'Nóttreiði, back down.' When Nóttreiði turned slightly to glare at him, he continued. 'I am ordering you to back down.'

Nóttreiði faltered visibly. He clearly had forgotten about that. After a moment, he abruptly launched himself straight up, his powerful wings lifting him dozens of feet in seconds. He roared in frustration, and possibly humiliation, and forced himself onwards in the direction of the next island, a full night's travel away.

The not-Nadder chuckled darkly. 'Well, off you go. No one messes with poison, especially mine.'

Einfari and Heather immediately set off after Nóttreiði. Maour and Toothless stayed for a moment longer. Toothless snarled. 'We could kill you now. We aren't afraid of you. But we each have something more to protect than ourselves, so we can't risk anything. You got very lucky. Three Night Furies could obliterate you before you had the chance to flinch.' He punctuated that with a lightning-fast plasma blast to a rock a few feet away from the Nadder-like dragon, stunning it for the crucial seconds he needed to take off and get out of tail spike range.

Maour laughed nervously. "That was a bit risky."

Toothless growled, forcing himself to fly faster, to make up for the short head start Einfari and Nóttreiði had. 'That jerk needed to know how close to death he came.'

They caught up to Einfari and Nóttreiði and immediately saw that there was going to be a problem in the near future. They were all flying tired, and there was no way they would last the entire flight to the next island on the list. But Nóttreiði wasn't responding to anything Einfari was saying. He wouldn't even slow down.

Maour pulled out his map. After examining it for a few moments, he groaned. "Great. The only close island is inhabited. Not a big village, but it isn't a big island either." Because bringing Nóttreiði to an island with humans around was a great idea with him in this state.

'I don't think we have a choice. Which way?' Toothless sped up, getting to the front of the group, so he could lead the way.

Maour oriented himself. "Just a bit East of our current direction." He folded the map back up and put it away.

Einfari had heard this. 'Nóttreiði, please follow me.' She abruptly swung out in front of her brother, staying close to him. She edged him towards a somewhat Northeastern path and flew slightly above and in front of him.

Toothless dropped back behind Nóttreiði. 'Good. There's no way he'd follow me anyway.' There was frustration in that. 'Now that I've forced him to do something, he probably won't do anything unless I order him to.'

Maour understood. "Which is why you never did before. Like with the weapon, you could have made him back down then. But you didn't."

Toothless growled. 'For all the good it did. Every time one of us pushes him, he gets worse. And nothing seems to calm him down.' He could almost feel Nóttreiði's rage, barely contained. It really had only been growing this entire trip.

Reason for Removal: Actually, I quite liked this scene, though it could use some polishing. I had to drop it anyway, because its narrative purpose was preempted by the need to include the Skrill scene, which I realized needed to exist in order for Maour to understand, first hand, just how bad Skrill were, to set up giving Smith a weapon to use against them, which in turn catalyses the third book (and that's just the obvious reason you as readers have already seen play out, there might be others that have yet to develop). This Nadder-esque dragon is basically a poison-based Nadder subspecies. I chose poison because the dragon in this scene needed to be rightfully confident and subtly dangerous.

Thrashing Trees (Chapter 11-ish)

With no choice, they were forced to set down in the woods on the other side of the hill. The island really was tiny, and they were less than five minutes away from the village on foot. Not a safe distance at all.

Nóttreiði immediately tore into a few trees in frustration. They all watched silently as the enraged Fury turned several moderately large oaks into kindling in minutes, without using anything other than his claws and teeth. There was no real technique or method, just feral rage. It was slightly terrifying.

But through that entire process, he made almost no noise and never roared. He seemed aware that alerting the nearby village was a bad idea. When he was done...

Heather blinked in shock. She had never seen Nóttreiði do that before, and she was pretty sure he wasn't allowed to trash the forest at home, because she would have found the bare patches of forest by now, he was always so angry. But the surprising part was how much it calmed him down. She had only seen Nótthljóður have that much of a calming effect on him. It was downright strange. He seemed almost normal now. Well, normal for him.

After a few awkward minutes of silence, Toothless spoke. 'I am sorry for ordering you to back down. But I didn't want you dead because some stupid dragon decided killing you with poison was a good idea.' He approached Nóttreiði carefully. 'I promise not to do it again if you promise to listen to us, so it isn't necessary. Please, at least listen to Einfari, if no one else.'

That apparently struck a nerve in Nóttreiði. He recoiled. 'I do! She's the only one here I trust completely. Of course, I listen to her when her judgment isn't clouded!' He glared at Heather, but without much force.

Einfari spoke softly. 'You didn't back there.' She sounded worried. 'You were entirely ready to get yourself killed.' She snarled softly. 'And it isn't my judgment that's clouded, it's yours.'

Nóttreiði whined slightly, dropping his head.

Heather tried not to fall off of Einfari in shock. This was the most... normal... behavior she had ever seen from Nóttreiði. He wasn't angry, he wasn't furious, he wasn't constantly snarling and threatening. What had changed?

Without another word, Nóttreiði jumped into one of the other trees around them and perched carefully on a thick branch. He was facing the village, his back to the rest of them, clearly on watch. He might have seemed back to his normal self, but his tail hung limply, as opposed to the normal angry arch it usually had.

Einfari and Toothless settled in their own trees. On the flight here, they had decided that the dragons would sleep, while the humans kept watch. Maour had argued that he and Heather weren't the ones doing the work of flying, so they didn't need to be as rested. Although, unlike Heather, Maour couldn't sleep in the saddle later, as he had to be awake to operate the tailfin.

Maour stared at Nóttreiði for a while. Eventually, he decided that the dragon was asleep. He turned to Heather. "That was really weird."

Reason for Removal: I realized, looking at this, that Nóttreiði can't actually calm down yet. He needs to keep the anger simmering, visibly or not, until that fateful attack on a Berserker ship. Calming down isn't in the cards for him. Also, this entire segment was a bit out-of-date after I replaced the poison-Nadder with the whole Skrill chapter.

Blame the Twins for That (Chapter 14)

Heather had slowly been coming out of her shock as Dagur talked… and slowly losing any and all control of herself. By now, only the thinnest thread of self-control stopped her from throttling Dagur then and there. She didn't respond verbally, as she wouldn't be able to restrain herself if she did. Luckily, her hands were tied at the wrist, leaving gestures still an option.

Dagur frowned, looking at Heather's hands. "I feel like that means something." He listened as Savage whispered in his ear. "Oh. So that's a no. No big deal. You'll have plenty of time to reconsider." He turned his attention back to Maour. "So, Rider, what do you want for her?"

Reason for Removal: This one was actually rewritten, not removed, but I wanted to preserve the original. In this universe, in a fit of humor, I've decided that the twins invented the gesture one would otherwise rightfully call anachronistic, aka 'flipping the bird.' Really, the only reason I've removed this is because Heather hasn't had a chance to learn it from them in passing yet. So any further references or uses of 'Thorston-spiting gesture' as the twins named it, are their fault and their influence.

Explaining the Situation (Chapter 16)

Camicazi considered that. "Well, does it have to be war?" She stood. "Can we go somewhere I can see you? It stinks, talking to a blob of shadows."

"I can see you just fine. But yes, if you can stand riding Toothless for a few moments." Camicazi was pretty sure he was smirking, though she couldn't see it.

A minute later, they were out on top of a nearby sea stack. They must be really useful for anyone who could fly. Everywhere, safe from ships, and a good place to land. Cami jumped down and turned to face Maour.

"Much better." She thought about what he had said. "I swear on my life and Odin himself to keep everything I hear or learn here secret."

"Why?" Maour looked confused.

"Because I want to help. And I need to know more. First off, what exactly are you protecting?"

"Yes, I do." Maour saw her look of confusion. "Toothless was asking if I really trust you with this." He sat down and gestured for Cami to do the same. "Alright, here's the situation. We have an island. There are some twenty-odd Night Furies living there, and three new ones far too young to survive leaving the island in any way, for the next several years. Two are just eggs right now. There are five humans living there, counting me. Fishlegs, Ruffnut, Tuffnut, and Heather. Heather is a special case."

"How so?" Camicazi was feeling a wave of nostalgia, despite the insanity of what she was hearing. She and Hiccup used to do this when she visited. They'd set some ridiculous goal and plan how to achieve it just like this. The only difference was, now it was for real.

"She's Dagur's long-lost sister. Thing is, she doesn't care. He killed off her entire island in the process of finding her. Dagur knows she's with me, and his armada is already dangerously close to our island, still searching for her."

"Is she trustworthy?"

"As much as I am. She hates Dagur and Berserkers in general. I'm sure of that. Dagur offered her anything she wanted, and she rejected it out of hand, as offensively as possible."

"What's the military situation?"

"Twenty Furies battle-age. Subtract six, or in dire cases four, for the Furies caring for the young ones. Night Fury hatchlings are super-vulnerable. So, in all but the worst situations, fourteen battle-ready Night Furies, five with riders. Some have a lot of experience, and some none at all. An entire fourth of the pack is dedicated to knowledge, which includes tactics, and we have a few strategic planners among the others."

Camicazi whistled. "That's really scary to think about. Fourteen Night Furies." It sounded like something out of a very crazy story told to little kids.

Maour laughed. "Don't discount the riders. We develop certain... abilities over time. Near night-vision, enhanced hearing, sight, smell. Plus the ability to hear and eventually speak to any dragon, and the shared ability between rider and bonded dragon to access each other's senses at any time. To top it off, the dragon can speak to their human bond at any distance, instantly, and using the human's sense of hearing, the human can respond from any distance."

"Any weaknesses?"

"Besides the usual ones? Knocking either of us out cuts the link. We've never actually tested if that removes the enhancements on the human side, but it definitely cuts all the connections. It can be restored if the rider and dragon can touch each other, and make eye contact."

"That's not much of a weakness. How are the humans in combat?"

"Heather is moderately good with an ax. Fishlegs uses a hammer, Ruffnut a spear, and Tuffnut a mace. They're fairly good. And I use my scythe. I'm very good."

Camicazi laughed. "Right. Sorry, but I don't believe that." Hiccup had never been good with any weapon, or really anything that required coordination.

"Believe it." Maour handed the scythe over, in its unlocked position. "It takes skill to not kill yourself with this, let alone use it. I've beaten Fishlegs, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut. At the same time. Not to mention holding my own against Dagur recently, though that wasn't really a fair fight."

Camicazi examined it. He was right, this thing was stupidly dangerous to use, she could tell. "Fine. When I get a new set of knives, I'll test that. For now, I'll assume you're as good as you say. Any other new talents?"

Maour grinned. "Several, actually. I can run through forest faster than any other human I know, and I've gotten very good at being stealthy. Thanks to this guy over here, of course." He patted Toothless, who warbled in appreciation.

Camicazi considered what Maour had said about the abilities of linked dragons and humans. "He understands-"

"Everything. He isn't sure if I should be trusting you so readily, but he trusts me. He also wants you to know that he says not to get any funny ideas about burgling his saddlebags. He'll drag you through the ocean for a mile if you do. I've agreed to help him do that if necessary."

Toothless growled, and then smiled, as widely and disturbingly as possible. Disturbingly, because he deliberately kept his teeth unsheathed.

Camicazi gulped. "Got it. No stealing from the scary dragon. And what do you mean, help him?"

Maour frowned. "I guess that counts as a weakness. He's missing a tailfin, and the prosthetic needs me to work. So, Toothless can't fly unless I'm conscious in the saddle. But if I am, he can fly like normal."

Camicazi felt that there was something wrong with that. Then she got it. "Wait, how can you jump off and free fall then?"

"He falls with me, and we join back up in time to pull out."

"Oh. I still think that's crazy but cool. Anyway. So Dagur's snooping where he shouldn't and has it out for you. What about Astrid?"

"Astrid is fixated on finding our home. She's setting up a massive nest search fleet. But we don't know which direction she's going. Hopefully, not straight at us. But we might get unlucky."

"Wait, what happens if she goes the wrong way? Won't she just keep trying? She'll find you eventually."

Maour's face fell. "True, actually. I hadn't thought of that. So Dagur and Astrid are both imminent threats. And they both have fairly large fleets."

Camicazi stood, and began pacing. "Okay, that's the situation. Now we need a plan. Hiding isn't going to work for much longer. Both Astrid and Dagur hate you, I assume, so negotiating with them-"

"Not an option. I already tried to get both of them to stop at one time or another. Both times ended with me fighting the lunatic involved, and then leaving."

Camicazi smiled. "But what did you say? 'please stop trying to find and murder my people, we don't want to fight anyway?'." She frowned. "Wait, what am I saying. You live with dragons, of course, they want to fight."

Toothless surprised her by shaking his head. Maour translated. "We just want to live in peace. None of us want to fight at all."

Camicazi snapped her fingers. "There you go. That's the answer. You need to threaten Astrid and Dagur, and make them back down."

"Problem is, neither of them will back down. War with Night Furies is what Astrid wants to start with! Killing us is her goal. Dagur just wants to capture his sister, and force her to work with him, for whatever reason."

"So, you make it so they can't win." Camicazi gestured to Toothless. "Astrid wants to fight Furies, so you need human allies to back you. Make her aware that she'll lose her forces before she even sees a Night Fury."

"What about Dagur?"

Camicazi grimaced. "I'm not sure yet. But get a few allies, and the odds of him attacking you go way down."

"How does an island so secret no one knows it exists acquire allies?"

Camicazi frowned. "That's the part I'm still not sure of. You'd need to have something to offer in return. And alliances really only hold between..." She grinned. "Between chiefs. Does your island have a chief or a leader of some sort?" Every island did, surely dragons wouldn't be any-

"No, actually. We have something of a voting system. We make decisions together, all of us having a say. There's no chief or really authority at all apart from whatever the pack decides goes. Night Furies are way more laid back than Vikings, so we don't really need anything else. We don't even have a prison or jail, because there's never been a need for one. A chief wouldn't really get to do anything, apart from representing the pack as a whole. Like a figurehead, but one with no person behind it."

Camicazi was amazed at how well that ridiculous system apparently worked. "So, you would say that the chief of your island is the guy representing it to the outside world?" She had an idea now.

Maour nodded. "Yup."

Camicazi laughed. "Congratulations, chief Svarturfl-whatever. Apparently, you're chief without even knowing about it. Because I assume the ridiculous stories about a dragon rider are all you. You represent your island."

Maour shook his head. "Funny. And actually, no. Me, Fishlegs, Ruffnut, and Tuffnut. And now Heather, too."

"But mainly you, because you're the one who started all of this, somehow."

Toothless chuffed, and nudged Maour, almost knocking him over. He seemed amused.

Maour turned and spoke to his brother. "Not that funny, bud. And I am not trying to get out of being a chief, Camicazi is just pointing out that by my logic, I am one." He turned back around. "Which means I should be able to speak for our island. But I don't have that authority. No deal I agreed to would be official unless the pack agrees to it."

Camicazi rubbed her hands together. "But no one else knows that. As far as they know, you can make whatever deals you want. You can always agree to things as if you are capable of making the decisions, and get the pack to agree to it later if need be."

Maour slowly nodded. "Yes, I could. And I would make sure the deals were ones the pack would approve of. So I can negotiate with chiefs. If they believe I really have that power. It's going to be difficult to convince them that I'm really a chief of anything."

Camicazi laid down the final piece of the plan. "Usually, yes. But you only have to convince one person of that. The Order-keeper at the chief meeting in a few weeks. If he says you're one of them, none of them can argue. And you'll be right there, able to negotiate with anyone at the meeting."

Maour objected immediately. "Which includes Dagur, Snotlout, and Astrid. I'd be killed in seconds."

"Nope. No one can break the peace on the meeting island, in any way. You could even bring Toothless, and as long as the Order-keeper says he's part of your group, no one can lay a hand on him or you. It's a really big deal if anyone does anyway, and no one will risk it. The Order-keeper has pretty much unlimited power, and he uses it to keep the order, as his name implies. As long as he stays neutral, no one can argue with him, because they need him to get anything done. Those meeting would be a bloodbath without him. Plus, the meeting is conducted on sacred ground, just as added insurance. Any Viking who breaks their word there is condemned eternally. It's why so many big deals are made there." Camicazi frowned. "And why Astrid wanted to use my captivity to force Bertha into a terrible deal there. She wouldn't ever be able to break it, having agreed to it there."

Maour should really have already known all of that, being the son of a chief, but he seemed surprised. "So basically, it's a massive safe-zone. Got it."

Toothless had been listening intently and asked Maour something. Maour laughed. "Bud, I don't think we can get any Viking to believe that our entire island is sacred ground. That would be amazing though. And it is pretty much already violence-free, aside from the rare squabble or invading Berserkers who need to be knocked out."

Camicazi laughed at that. "Alright, we have a plan. Best case, Astrid and Dagur both back down. Worst case, you have allies to help you fight them off. And if I have anything to say about it, the Bog-Burglars will be on the allies list." They had just lost Berk, after all. An island of Night Furies allied with them would be a more than adequate replacement. She yawned. "We can leave in the morning."

Reason for Removal: Well, obviously Maour goes along with all of this way too easily. And where's the secrecy? Out the window the second an old friend shows up? I can't blame this on how long ago it was written, because unlike most of these entries, the flaw isn't outdated plot or outdated portrayals because personalities changed. No, this one and several of those that follow were plot laziness. I forced it to go where I wanted, and committed the sin of making people act out of character to get the plot in the right place. Rewriting to get where I wanted to go in a way that holds true to the characters involved was much harder, but it's better that way.

(As a side note, you may notice Camicazi has no problems with Maour in this scene. They didn't already argue, that simply didn't happen in this version of the story. Another improvement I made almost unintentionally when rewriting that chapter to go with who was involved, not with where I wanted to take it.)

Belated Revelation (Chapter 20)

Nóttreiði came back into consciousness slowly and reluctantly. He didn't want to wake up. The memories of what he had just done were already with him. He had been such an idiot. Hating humans, longing for the day he could finally let loose, kill and destroy the ones who had so tortured his father, and all dragons. But now he finally had, and he didn't feel better. He felt a thousand times worse.

He unwillingly relived the things he had just done. Each man he had killed, clumsily and without reason. Maybe if there had been some sort of purpose, it wouldn't have been so bad. But he was killing them only because he wanted to; because he had convinced his sister that it would help lure out one human that really did deserve all of this.

He groaned softly. Stupid. These weren't even the ones who had hurt his father. For all he knew, these particular soldiers had never spilled a drop of blood in their life, or only wanted to protect their home. Probably not, but he would never know. This was partly Heather and Maour's fault. They had broken down his conviction that all humans were merciless monsters. Now, when he remembered his victims, he couldn't see monsters. He could only see the looks of unrestrained fear on their faces. Fear of him, a merciless killer who attacked without reason, killing for fun. A monster.

But that wasn't even the worst part. Einfari had been watching. She had seen it all. And now, if he ever saw her again, he was sure he'd see the same fear in her eyes. He couldn't face her again, knowing what he'd see. Better not to wake up.

But he didn't have a choice. Hearing returned first, then smell. He could hear the Berserkers talking softly, and he could smell blood and seawater. More seawater than blood, now. They must be cleaning up after him. The thought made him feel sick. But he couldn't open his mouth to even gag. It was tied shut, along with the rest of him. He was swathed in ropes, unable to do more than twitch.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. He couldn't move his head, but he could see one Berserker in particular, who was staring at him. He didn't have the heart to growl, didn't have the heart to do anything but whine softly, inaudible to all but himself.

The Berserker walked up to him and abruptly kicked him in the head. "Devil. Five good men, gone because of you." He shook his head. "No idea why you spared Delarn."

Another Berserker called out to him. "We should just kill it."

The first Berserker shook his head. "No, we can't. Dagur wants all dragons captured kept alive. Especially a Night Fury." He still sounded extremely angry. "But it'll pay for killing them."

He pulled out a knife and knelt by Nóttreiði's head, whispering to the restrained dragon as he did. "Five men. Some soldiers keep a tally of their kills. I'm sure these are just five among thousands for you, so I'm going to make sure you don't forget."

Nóttreiði didn't even try to pull away. The words of this man, though said spitefully, were daggers to his heart now. Five men dead for no reason, by his claws.

The man carefully shifted a rope, exposing the side of Nóttreiði's head, just in front of the left ear. He slowly carved four moderately deep gashes into the soft scales and skin, and then a long horizontal stripe across them. "Five."

Nóttreiði couldn't even howl in pain, though it was excruciating. The ropes were too tight. His pained whine, however, was clearly audible across the entire ship. The other Berserkers turned to look at him, even the ones watching the skies.

"What did ya do?" The Berserkers were all gathered around now, observing the first man's handiwork. "Nice. Dagur might not like it though."

The first man laughed bitterly. "You kidding? He's going to love a dragon with a kill-tally. Probably try to ride the stupid thing if it doesn't kill him first." His face darkened, and he kicked Nóttreiði again, right where he had cut him. "Stupid dragon."

Reason for Removal: Actually, there were two reasons. The easier of the two was that I've pretty much established, though it's not at all obvious, that Raethi doesn't understand Norse at this point (he's not spent any time around Maour or the other teens, and Heather has not been around long enough). So obviously, he wouldn't be hearing the Berserker speaking to him. The other reason was that I wanted to redo his revelation, to make it less complete and more gradual (and to remove any OOC bits). Here, both the self-hatred and the realization that he was wrong come together. I decided to split them up a little in order to make it a more interesting event. So, while a very similar scene is present in the story, it's not this one. As a bonus fact, now you get to see exactly, word for word, what the Berserker was saying.

Change of Heart (Chapter 20)

'Nóttreiði, come on!' Einfari wasn't taking silence as an answer. 'Whatever your problem is, it can wait until we're off of this deathtrap.' She leaned over, and Heather jumped into the saddle.

Nóttreiði forced himself up and spread his wings. He didn't really care, but he didn't want Einfari to worry…. If she still would, after seeing what he had done. He weakly launched himself up, and dully winged towards the mountain. Once they landed in their normal spot near the summit of the mountain, he curled up into as small a circle as possible and made sure to cover his head with his tailfins. Heather and Einfari hadn't noticed the wound yet, probably because of everything else going on. He was sure it would be glaringly obvious once they weren't distracted, and he wasn't ready to face the questions yet.

He felt and heard Einfari landing beside him, and nosing his wings worriedly. He could tell Heather was walking around to his front, from the sound of her footsteps.

Heather spoke first. "That wasn't the best idea, in retrospect." She sounded sad, and a little angry. "We should have expected them to be better prepared."

Nóttreiði whined loudly, an entirely involuntary response. He knew that all too well. He flinched as Einfari nosed at his tailfins.

'Nóttreiði?' Einfari sounded extremely concerned. She had probably been expecting anger or indignation at being captured. His typical reactions to anything involving humans. Definitely not that pained whine. She inhaled, smelling him. 'Nóttreiði, you're bleeding somewhere.'

Nóttreiði growled ever so softly. 'Yes. And I deserve it.' He spat out the next words, for once only angry with himself. 'I'm a monster.'

Years of hating humans, not knowing any better, might have been excusable. He had been young and immature. Holding on to that hatred with Maour and now Heather, with everyone he knew telling him to let go, was not excusable at all. If he had given in at any point before now, it would have been okay. But he had held to his simple view of the world because it allowed him to hate. Allowed him to do this.

All of the lectures, disappointment, and sadness his own actions had brought to others over the years had finally broken through, and it was crushing him. Was this what growing up felt like? Maybe if one held on to childish views for far too long and accidentally did it all at once. If one woke up one day and discovered they were a terrible person. That was what this felt like.

Einfari barked in surprise, interrupting his wallowing. 'What? You're not a monster!' She clearly didn't like what he had done, or his unvarying hatred of all humans, but that was nowhere near him being a monster in her eyes... because she didn't expect any better of him.

'Yes, I am. Tonight just proved that. I saw the pure terror in their eyes, and I didn't care.' He still hadn't moved from his huddled position, hiding from their eyes. 'And you saw it.'

Heather spoke softly. "Not true. Or you would have killed the sixth Berserker. But you didn't. So clearly, you did care. Once you realized what you were doing, at least."

Nóttreiði spoke sadly, slowly shifting his tailfin to reveal the wound. 'I still killed them for no reason. One of them made sure I'll never be able to forget that. As if I ever could anyway.'

Einfari gasped as she saw the five deep cuts in her brother's head, slightly in front of the left ear, spanning from the base of it to an inch from his eye. They were oozing blood. She rushed over and began licking the wounds, frantically trying to seal them with her saliva, as Night Furies were capable of that. She took a step back after a moment and eyed the now treated wound. 'It will scar.' That was said almost angrily. 'I hope I got the Berserker who did that with my fire.'

Nóttreiði shrugged. 'Heather did. And it was supposed to scar. That was the point. To make sure I remember, and I quote 'just five more kills among thousands.' He still wasn't looking Einfari in the eye. 'To remember the day I became a monster, in front of my own sister.'

Einfari moved closer and forced her brother to look her in the eyes. 'Stop. You're not a monster. You've just realized what you did was wrong. If you liked it even now, that would make you a monster, someone who enjoys killing. You're better because of that, even if it did take a huge mistake to get you to see the truth.'

Nóttreiði moaned. 'You'll never be able to even look at me without remembering me killing them just because I wanted to.' He flicked his left ear, drawing her eyes to the wound. 'And everyone will ask.'

Einfari nodded. 'They will. And that's one of the consequences of this. But it isn't just your fault. Heather and I should have stopped you. We let you do something we knew was wrong because it might have helped us get to Dagur.' She growled. 'Want an example of what you aren't? Dagur kills for fun, or for any reason whatsoever. Do you?'

'Never again.' Nóttreiði was adamant about that. The very idea of killing anyone made him sick to his stomach now. It brought back those same memories.

'Then you aren't a bad person. You were angry, hateful, and unable to control yourself. But you can change that, and make sure you never get to this point again.' What she had all along been hoping he would do. Maybe with this horrible event, he would find a reason to change.

'I've done such a terrible thing.' Nóttreiði wanted to believe her, but it was difficult. 'And I'm not sure how to change anything.'

Heather spoke up. "I think you just have to want to change. And we'll help if we can." She put one hand on Einfari's wing, and the other on Nóttreiði's right ear, careful to avoid the wound on the other side of his head. "Together."

Nóttreiði whined sadly. 'And I've treated you both so badly. Heather, I hated, and I ignored Einfari every time she tried to get me to think past my own stupidity.' He recalled times on their journey when Einfari would lecture him in private, trying to get him to give Heather a chance. She did it in secret, to avoid embarrassing him in front of the others, but she still did it. He had resented it, and the fact that his own younger sister was lecturing him like he was a fledgling. He had just tuned her out.

Einfari nodded. 'You did. Now just try to do better.' She put a paw on his wing-shoulder. "I forgive you. For the way, you treated me, and everything else.'

There was that, at least. His sister did not hate him. He still had that.

Heather followed suit. "And I forgive you." She did. She thought she understood now. Nóttreiði had never seen war, never even seen much violence. So when he had been told of his father's past, he latched onto it, the only bad thing he knew of in his sheltered life. He built up his vision of the world around the idea of good versus evil, no blurred lines. All of his anger towards her was just the sheltered dragon inside trying to keep his black-and-white view of the world intact. But now that view had been destroyed. Hopefully, for the better, despite what it took to break it.

'I don't know why you do. I wouldn't even want to be around me if I was you.' Nóttreiði curled inward a little more.

Heather frowned. "You made a mistake. A big one, but still just a mistake. And no one is perfect. So why wouldn't we?" She felt some sort of gesture was needed. "And we aren't just going to let you crawl off and be miserable about this." She walked over to Einfari and whispered in her ear.

Einfari nodded and took off. Heather and Nóttreiði watched as she went down to the ocean, far from the ship or the village.

Heather had picked two things out of the saddlebags before Einfari had left. A cloth, and one of their water canisters. She moved over to Nóttreiði's head and sat within his range of vision. "I'm going to get the blood off of you. Hold still for a minute."

Nóttreiði sighed, closing his eyes. At least he didn't object either.

Heather smiled slightly as she carefully cleaned his face off, despite the nature of the task at hand. It would have been far more efficient to just have him dunk himself in the ocean, but that would have hurt his wound like crazy. Besides, she felt that a human cleaning off the blood might mean more to Nóttreiði than simply washing away the evidence himself. And he wasn't objecting at all. He really was trying to change. Or maybe he was just too depressed and sickened to object right now.

She didn't like the idea that he might be depressed. He might have a right to be, but she wouldn't let him slip into it. She cared too much about Einfari, and by extension Nóttreiði himself, to let him be depressed. So, once she had gotten the blood off, she ditched the cloth and just started gently scratching him, avoiding the injured area. She knew this felt good, from what she observed of Maour and Toothless, and with Einfari herself on occasion. It was one of those weird things that would feel awkward in the extreme with any human but was just a friendly gesture with a dragon.

After a few moments, Nóttreiði began to purr softly. His eyes were still closed, and he even leaned in slightly.

Heather grinned. That was definitely intentional on his part. She kept going, trying not to laugh. This was by far the most pleasant interaction she had ever had with Nóttreiði. She would have gotten her hand bitten off if she had tried this before.

As she scratched under his chin, she examined the bloody gashes. They had clearly been done by a blade, and not at all carefully. The four parallel lines were moderately uniform in size and length, with a diagonal line bisecting the middle one, and extending a few inches out past the outer lines. It was a brutal wound, especially given it was still open under Einfari's protective coating of saliva. It wasn't directly on top of his head, but it also wasn't on the side. It was right on the edge, visible from both an above and side view. Nóttreiði was right, it would be impossible to miss. There would be questions when they returned home.

'I'm so sorry.' Nóttreiði was still purring, and outwardly nothing had changed, but he was speaking now. 'I've been horrible to you.'

"I already forgave you. Stop thinking about that, and just keep doing whatever it is that's keeping you from hating me now."

'I am.' Nóttreiði was quiet for a moment and then spoke again. 'I want to let you call me by some short name, as friends and family do. But Nóttreiði doesn't really shorten into anything usable.'

"What does it mean?" Heather had actually been wondering that for a while.

Nóttreiði grimaced his face wrinkling. He let out a short bark of pain when the wound was disturbed by that movement. 'Night Rage.'

Heather winced. Yeah, that wasn't good. "Really. Dare I ask how you got that name? I thought Furies were named shortly after hatching?"

'We are. I tried to bite the crumbled bits of my eggshell a few minutes after hatching, when I stumbled on a piece, apparently.' His amused tone abruptly dropped back into sorrow. 'It has become far too close to the truth. I never want to be called Rage.'

"Understandable. So you can't shorten your name, and using the meaning is out. What does your family call you?" Skarpur had told her they had no official short name for him, but maybe there was a nickname she just hadn't heard yet.

'Nóttreiði. No one ever came up with anything less formal, and I didn't mind. Now I do. Even Nótthljóður calls me Nóttreiði.' There was definite sadness in that.

"Well..." Heather had no ideas, but this seemed important to Nóttreiði. "I'm not going to stop thinking until I come up with something. Maybe Einfari has some suggestions." She continued scratching Nóttreiði's head, as she had been doing. He never asked her to stop, and she figured it must be helping in some small way.

A few fish dropped by Heather, and Einfari laughed. 'What have we here?' She had apparently returned, silently enough that neither of them noticed.

Nóttreiði jerked his head up, looking straight at Einfari. His expression seemed to be a mixture of embarrassment and annoyance.

Einfari purred, nudging some of the fish towards him. 'Don't mind me. I see this as an improvement, remember?' She sat down right next to him.

Nóttreiði chuffed wearily. 'Right.' He slowly took one of the fish, still moving almost lethargically.

"Einfari, Nóttreiði wants a short name that we can use." Well, he had specifically mentioned her, but from the way he talked, Heather was pretty sure Nóttreiði wouldn't mind Einfari using it too.

Einfari eyed her brother, who was slowly eating the fish she had brought. 'Fine by me. Any suggestions so far?'

"No, actually. We were wondering if you had any ideas."

Einfari hummed thoughtfully, lashing her tail. 'That's hard...' She thought about it. 'Any general ideas of how to narrow it down?'

Heather nodded. "It should be something positive. Not rage, or anger, or anything like that. He's trying to leave all of that behind." She frowned. "But not something passive."

Nóttreiði stared at her questioningly.

She smiled. "You're still a dragon. And you will still fight to defend, or protect. I'm sure of that. It's right and natural. So nothing passive."

Nóttreiði purred softly. 'I like that. What is something that only protects, and never attacks?'

Heather grinned. "There we go. I think we should call you Shield. That fits those requirements perfectly."

'I like that. Shield. Are you okay with being called that?' Einfari nudged Nóttreiði with her paw. 'We won't use it if you don't like it.'

Nóttreiði spoke out loud, voicing his thoughts as they occurred. 'I like the sound of it... and I do still want to protect my family... even if it means fighting. But I'm never going to enjoy even the thought of fighting again. So Shield works.' He stretched and resettled into a less constricted position. His eyes started to drift shut of their own accord.

Einfari purred. 'Sleep. We'll keep watch, and see how Dagur reacts.' They did still have that goal.

Shield nodded. 'I'll try.'

Reason for Removal: Oh, so many reasons. This one was absolutely terrible; it hurts to read through. I'm not even going to go into detail; just how badly I neutered all that made Nóttreiði unique should be readily apparent. It is interesting to note, however, that this development is adapted and fixed in the final version of the story, spreading across several dozen chapters instead of half of one chapter. I fixed it, more or less. The idea was okay, but the execution here was absolutely awful.