I did not mean for this chapter to take so long. I've been having trouble writing chapters as of late. If anyone has any ideas or suggestions, please tell me in a review, I'm having serious trouble with the third act of the story.

Tannski stands before us, garbed in the same cape and kilt he wore during the meeting. "Great job, everyone. You've taken the first step on the road to peace." I resist the urge to roll my eyes. I told him not to try and sound profound or poetic. But did he listen? Nooooo.

It doesn't help that the twins start laughing. "Road to peace? Seriously?"

The black cloud that forms in front of the twins molds into an irritated Tannski. "I'm trying to give this moment the gravitas it deserves." His second pair of eyes look up at the dragons briefly before focusing on the twins again. I can see that he's struggling to find a way to explain things in a way that they will understand. "Just think, the pranks you pull now will be tame in comparison to the ones you can pull fused with a dragon." To demonstrate, Tannski makes his arm go smoky, reaches through Tuffnut's stomach, and pulls a sword from somewhere. "Even if you don't get anything like my shade, you'll probably learn or craft new and nefarious ways of keeping the villagers on their toes." Tannski flips the blade and hands it back to Tuffnut. "So long as you don't seriously hurt someone, do what you do best."

Ruffnut and Tuffnut exchange identical evil grins. Tannski's demonstration of mischief excites them more than any speech about peace.

Next to me, Snotlout is staring down the Monstrous Nightmare and I can't help but think I dodged a bullet by choosing Stormfly. Tannski doesn't so much walk as glide over to his cousin. "Any trouble here, Snotlout?"

The hormonal Viking breaks eye contact to look at Tannski. "There's no problem here, Hiccup."

The fins on Tannski's head twitch. "My name is Tannski. You will address me as such while I'm here." Snotlout opens his mouth for a scathing retort, but changes his mind when Tannski gives him a sideways glare. (Having more than two eyes helps in the intimidation factor, apparently.)

Snotlout scowls and lapses into sullen silence. Tannski looks to the dragon, Hookfang, I think, and engages the Monstrous Nightmare in a conversation. After a long moment he blinks and looks down at Snotlout. "It's quite ironic, you've been paired with a dragon nearly as stubborn as you are." By the subtle glow of his memory stone, I can tell he told the Monstrous Nightmare something similar. Dragon and Viking release almost identical snorts and turn away from each other.

'Strange, isn't it?' Stormfly asks me. I look up at her.

"The bonding? Or Tannski?" I ask Stormfly. She tilts her head, as though I should know what she meant.

'Tannski. Unnatural. Cross fusion uncomfortable. Cross-species fusion abominable.'

I send a reprimand across our link, making Stormfly flinch away. "Tannski may be new, but that does not make him an abomination."

Stormfly tilts her head. 'Tannski not first cross fusion.'

I shrug. "You mean the Queen?"

Stormfly projects a negative to me before continuing. 'Tannski not first two-leg dragon fusion.' She pauses long enough to gauge my reaction.

"You mean two-legs sharp-ears?" My interest piques. "What do you know of him?"

Stormfly tilts her head. I feel her thoughts swirling and sliding together. 'Two-legs sharp-ears fused with dragon, took memory stones of fallen, forged into deadly two-leg weapons with power of dragons.'

'You're wrong!' The Gronckle grumbles and interrupts our conversation. 'Two-legs sharp-ears gave dragons with unfinished business chance to fix problems. Only took willing memory stones. They only work for him.'

While Stormfly and the Gronckle argue about the stories of two-legs sharp-ears, Fishlegs walks over to my side. "What's Meatlug doing? He looks rather incensed with the Nadder."

I chuckle but Fishlegs frowns, not getting the joke. It occurs to me that until they lay eggs or unless you can talk to them, the sexes are almost impossible to tell apart. "You do realize the Gronckle is a girl, right?"

Fishlegs gapes at me like a—well, like a fish. "How do you know?"

"You can hear it in the thoughts they project. It's hard to explain if you have no prior experience." I take a moment to think about it. "I suppose it could be seen as a combination of one's voice and scent. While highly unique, there are certain quirks that can tell you things like the age and gender of an individual."

I return my attention to Stormfly when she gives me the mental equivalent of a nudge. 'Query, let me out? Want to fly.'

I shake my head sadly. "You can't, the village might attack you, plus you may just fly back to the Queen. You're clever enough to try and fool me."

Stormfly, slightly miffed, decides to just take it as a compliment and tries a different approach. 'Compromise, fly at night, you on my back.'

I suppose that will work, and if she does try to escape, I can project a distress signal to Tannski. Plus this could be a great trust exercise. "Very well, I'll sneak down here tonight so we can go flying."

The level of excitement Stormfly projects is enough to catch all the other dragons' attention. Tannski turns to us. "What was that?"

"Stormfly is just excited," I tell him. He narrows both sets of eyes ever so slightly, but returns to lecturing Fishlegs. "It's settled. I'll be back tonight. In the meantime, you need anything?"

Stormfly lowers her head. 'Query, scratch behind spines? Itchy, irritating.'

I chuckle as I scratch her behind her crown.

By the time the afternoon rolls around, my half-father has finished some quick construction on our house. (We have plenty of practice after all.)

As I make my way up to Hiccup's home, I can't help but feel the stares aimed at my back. But whenever I try to meet the accusing glares, they turn their eyes away. Some even squeak in fear and scuttle into their houses, especially if I look at them with my monocular set. I think it's because the Vikings associate my back set of eyes with Toothless and my front set with Hiccup. At least, I think that's why.

I'm brought out of my inner monologue when my half-father calls to me.

"Hey,… Son." I don't need a memory stone to sense he still has difficulty thinking of me as any sort of family member, much less his own progeny. "How was the class?"

I shrug in a very human manner to try and set him at ease. "So far nobody's attacking one another. I call that a win."

My half-father doesn't normally appreciate my wit, but he gives a weak chuckle in an attempt to bond. "Yup, I can attest to that. Vikings are horrible at trying anything new without attempting to kill it or each other."

I look up at the house, and its… new entrance. "It looks good." The new entrance in question is a door that's wider than it is tall. The way it operates should allow it to open up and give me somewhere to land. "Has it been properly tested? I'm not exactly a scrawny toothpick right now."

Stoick nods. "I had myself and three other… beefy Vikings stand on the platform. It should be able to hold your weight."

I nod and fly up until I'm hovering in front of the new door to my room. I pull a lever on the side, allowing the door to slide down like a drawbridge. But it stops when the back of the door lands on a beam next to the pivot that acts as a support that and prevents the door from going down any farther. Once it stops, I land on the ramp. It groans, but barely moves. I crouch down so I can squeeze into a room that, while able to accommodate me, still feels smaller than it used to.

I notice that next to my bed, there's a large, flat stone. I remember asking Stoick to find one, but I didn't think he'd find one so soon.

Stoick pulls a lever on the inside of the house, pulling the drawbridge up until it could just be one of the walls. "Nifty invention, I'm surprised you came up with it so quickly."

Has Stoic really not been paying attention to me all these years? I try to keep the hurt out of my voice when I reply. "I thought this up when I was a kid. It's just been collecting dust up until now."

Stoick raises an eyebrow. "Really? How long exactly?"

I blow a raspberry as I look back. "Years ago." I replay the memory, the gem doing its part to make it especially vivid. I see an eleven-year-old Hiccup sitting in his room to avoid Snotlout and the twins. In order to alleviate his boredom, he comes up with plans for a drawbridge that can be operated from both sides. It also has special cushions that prevent the bridge from slamming down and breaking. "Gobber and I made some adjustments but it has mostly stayed the same."

Stoick nods, but it's a terse one. I suspect he's trying to cope with all the new information. "How have I been so blind?"

He's just thinking out loud, but I answer him anyway. "Hiccup's talents aren't the sort appreciated by humans, but especially not by Vikings."

My half-father looks skeptical. "Why do you do that?"

I tilt my head. "Do what?" What's he asking?

"Why is it that you refer to Hiccup as though you're someone else? I understand there's also the dra- ahem, Toothless, but since Hiccup is part of who you are, why act like he's not you?"

I raise all four of my eyebrows at that statement. "I don't talk about Hiccup like he's someone else. He's simply a piece of who I am and not the whole." Something suddenly clicks in my mind and I realize why we are both acting this way. "Stoick, would you say you were a good father to Hiccup?"

Stoick deflates somewhat. "No. Absolutely not." Well, that was blunt. But it looks like half-dad's not done. "I was constantly putting the village first. No, that's the excuse I use." A film seems to cover Stoick's eyes. "I thought I failed. My wife was taken from me, and my son seemed too weak to make it in the world. I failed as a father before I got the chance to try, so I gave up." He clenches his head between his meaty hands, as though he's trying to not hear the truth. "I gave up, so I never even tried being a proper father to you." The large man I call my half-father falls to the ground, silently sobbing. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

I just stare at the puddle of a man as he lays out his sins for me to see. Part of me knows this is not entirely true. Memories flash in my mind of Stoick trying to bond with me in small ways, but they're few and far between.

"Dad?" When Stoick looks up at his unfused son, he simply freezes in place. "We've all got a lot on our minds and have been through much in the past few days. We should get some rest." I hold my human hand out and help my father to his feet. (Mind you he does most of the work.) "Dad, I am me, but I'm also part of Tannski. I know you're having trouble accepting this part of me, but the effort you're putting in makes me proud to call you my father."

Stoick stares at me and Toothless. "When this is all over, and the Queen is gone, how about we go on a fishing trip. Just the three of us? Two if you become Tannski, I suppose." We all chuckle, Toothless doing his hacking laugh with us.

"Let's do it." Dad smiles at me, but his joy is short-lived when the door downstairs is opened and we hear the footfalls of a water-logged Viking. A completely soaked Spitelout appears in the doorway to my room. I can hear the heavy downpour outside now. How did I not realize a storm this heavy blew in?

"We've got a problem!" Is he looking at me?

Stoick quickly puts on his raid face. "What is it? A raid?"

The black-haired Viking shakes his head. "I don't think so. I think the trainees went out for a flight. They're on dragonback in the middle of the storm!"

None of us immediately register what Spitelout says, but all three of us shout and/or project the same answer.

"Those idiots!"

So here's part one of act 2's ending. I hope it seemed realistic.

Ranger Wheatley: Glad I got at lease one review last chapter, hopefully this one will get more.

if you have any ideas for act 3 of Shade Fury: Tannski, I'd like to hear them. see you for the end of act 2.